#doing weird curve shots and shit

[toxicanonymity]

blow.

one shot PWP in night walks AU

2k, joel miller x f!reader. joel master list

SUMMARY: PWP. You do a line off his dick and he wants to bang, but you give him an amazing BJ instead. Then a little later, he does put it in you. A/N: This takes place between Harder (where the coke bender starts) and The Morning After, so you’re already nice and high. There was also an ask on this a while back. WARNINGS: I8+, drugs (coke), grinding, breeding kink, mildly dubcon via mutual drug use (established sexual partners), blow job (ball sucking, kinda cock worshippy), jacking off, mild somnophilia, brief p in v, creampie 🤍

Joel’s already fucked you, and he’s fucked you harder, and you’ve come hard as hell.  You’ve moved from the sofa to his bed and you’re both naked. The plan is to take a nap, then do it again. The darkness of his bedroom is welcome. It's minimalist, clean. Nothing on the walls. How weird that this will be your first time in his bed, or in any bed with him, for all the times you've hooked up. His bed is simple, but comfortable. So comfortable.  You settle into it on your back, and he lays an arm over you, face down on his stomach.  The arm is not ideal; you’re sweaty, and his body heat doesn’t help, but you can’t bring yourself to move.  You’ve just begun to drift off when he’s getting back on top of you. 

“C’mere, baby.”

He reaches between your legs and feels the remnants of his cum that’s trickled out between your thighs. “I’mma fill ya right back up.” 

He’s hard again, wedging his body between your legs, his ankles twisted up in sheets.  You’re kissing sloppily, groping each other’s bodies. You’re dying to have him inside you again.  By now he must suspect you’re on birth control, but the higher he is, the more he seems to think he can breed you. Or at least he wants to pretend. With his cock laid against your dripping heat, you're throbbing.

“Yeah,” he says and slides his arousal up and down against your clit. His eyes are wild, like he’s on another planet. “Gonna cum right in here,” he rests his hand on your lower belly then aggressively grabs your side as he grinds into you.   

“Hold on, pumpkin.” Joel reaches for his nightstand, and he sure as hell isn’t reaching for a condom. He turns on a lamp and it’s too bright.  “Shit,” he mutters as he puts it on the dimmest setting. He grabs the coke baggy and it’s almost empty.  “Let’s finish it.”

You ask, “Are you sure you want more?” It seemed minutes ago he was saying he got too high. Selfishly, you’d rather he fuck you first.  

“Not for me,” he mumbles. Then he opens the bag and groans as he lies back on two propped up pillows.  “Not much anyway.” You turn on your side to watch him.  You’re starting to come back down, but everything’s still vibrating.

He’s so sexy. You admire his profile, his dark eyes, his jawline, his scruff, his gorgeous head of dark hair. His muscular arms and chest. The light padding of his stomach, rising and falling. His happy trail, and then his gorgeous cock, near full mast.  And that’s where your eyes settle.  You can’t stop looking at the silhouette of his arousal in the dim, warm light. It’s fucking gorgeous, and it’s all for you. 

It better be all for you.  You never appreciated it before. Looking at it now, it’s so commanding.  No wonder he’s obsessed with it. Frankly, you are too.  It’s smooth, thick, and gets so stiff. It's curved upward just enough to hit that spot just right.  It’s perfect, and he fucks you so good with it. You’re salivating. Really, saliva is pooling at the corners of your mouth. 

Joel says, “here—“ he gets ready to dump the baggie on his fist, but he looks at you and stops talking when he sees the way you’re practically drooling over his dick.  You’re in a trance, mouth slightly open, saliva pooling at the corners, your breasts slowly heaving. 

“Mmmm. . . yeah, that’s for you, baby.” He wraps a hand around his cock. He holds the baggie up to his shaft and wiggles it as though to ask if you’d do a line off his dick, and you nod. He holds his cock flat and ungracefully dumps the rest of the white powder into a short, messy line. “Bad girl shit,” he murmurs and leans his head back against the wall, watching you through half lidded eyes.

You straddle his legs and your wet cunt grazes his knee as you get into position.  He moans softly when he feels it. You lower your head to his cock and look it right in the weeping eye. With the coke still on his shaft, you can’t help but reach your tongue out and take the precum. He gasps then mutters, “oh shit.” 

You look up and make brief eye contact. Then you bring your nose to his shaft and sniff off the white powder.  Some of it sticks to him. You tilt your head back and sniff a few times, feeling the bitter sting of the nasal drainage.

-------

“Attagirl. Now time for round 2.”  But you can’t pry yourself away.  You take the base of his cock in your hand and he encourages you, “Yeah, ride it, baby. . .Fuck, you’re hot.”

But with your mouth so close to his cock, with his musk filling your powder-caked nostrils, all you want to do is consume it. His hands try to urge you into his lap. “Lemme fill ya up, baby,” he lightly nudges your arms, but you hold firm and hover your mouth over his cock.  Most guys would be all about it, but he's got bigger things on his mind at the moment. Completely preoccupied with pumping you full of his cum.

“I gotta put my cum in ya,” he whispers. “Nice ‘n deep," his cock twitches. "Fuck it so it stays.” You take his tip into your mouth and he groans, then he mutters, “Ain’t gonna let me,.are ya?” 

Maybe later, but not until you’ve sucked this cock dry and swallowed every last drop.  Not until you’ve given him the best oral he’s ever had. If he ever thinks about another girl’s head in his lap or god forbid has one, you want him thinking about this.  

You suck the whole tip into your mouth, then bob your head on his cock, taking a little more of him into your mouth each time. The coke residue is bitter but quickly diluted by your ample saliva. His cock feels like heaven on your tongue. Warm and firm. The skin is smooth. You relax your jaw and suck from the back of your throat as you try to make his length disappear into your mouth, and you do. 

“Fuck yeah, baby,” he breathes as the silky tip slides down your throat. “Mmmm.” You curl your lips firmly around your teeth to protect his delicate skin.  Your head bobs, and you suck with all your might. You cradle his balls in one hand and hold the base firm with the other.  You lick him hard as you suck, massaging his shaft with your tongue. “Ohh, fuck,” he sighs.  You let saliva drip out of your mouth. You slobber all over his cock. “So fuckin hot.”   As you cradle his balls, you dip your middle finger against the harder skin behind them and he sucks air in through his teeth. “God damn.”  You’re throbbing and wet. You shift so you’re on top of one leg, and you can’t help but start to grind yourself on it. 

You let his length fall out of your mouth and down your chin, a string of spit falling to your chest. You lick up and down the shaft and around the tip, taking your time getting it nice and slobbery while making eye contact. Then you whisper “I fucking love this cock.”

"Ohh yeah " he moans. His eyes are already half closed.  Your hips move, seeking pressure on your sensitive place. 

“All yours, baby,” he whispers. “All this cock."  You lift the wet shaft out of your way and slowly stroke it while you turn your mouth’s attention to his balls. 

“Fucking love it,” you repeat directly to his cock this time, the breath of your words hitting the base of his shaft.  Then you lick from his shaft down the seam of his scrotum and back up before gently sucking one of his balls into your mouth. He gasps, then moans.   “Mmmm,” you hum as you gently suck his ball and stroke his shaft. You’re still moving on his leg, and tension is gathering in your deepest place. 

“Ohhh,” he moans.  You twirl your tongue around the ball and suck gently again before moving to the other one where you do the same. “Mmm,” these are the only sounds he can muster. No words, nothing intelligible. “Bay—ohhhh.”  You swirl your tongue around his balls and he’s breathing heavily, “mmmgh.” 

You try your best to get both balls in, stuffing your mouth full of them and he gasps, his breathing intensifying. You suck and gently tongue them, then you let them out, and you feel them twitch.  You get his dick wet with your slobber again, then return to his balls.  He watches you in a daze.  You’re getting closer and closer to the edge yourself. 

“God, I love this cock,” you repeat earnestly as you grind on him, and he grunts, “Mmm.” Your tongue sharpens and trails just below his balls, not quite to his anus, but close, and you tongue him as hard as you can while you stroke him with the new slobber and cradle his balls with the other hand.  You tongue him there and his balls tighten and you whisper, “Yeah, lemme swallow.”   He groans, wanting to put it in your cunt. 

“Won’t waste a drop” you say and suck his tip into your mouth.  You suck and make eye contact, and the next time your lower mound presses into his leg, you cum. You moan onto his cock, slowly moving on him as you throb against his leg, fuck.  At that point, he erupts in your mouth, and you feel his shaft pulse against your hand as he does.  He groans and you suck gently as his warm spend coats the roof of your mouth and the back of your throat. It takes him a minute to regain his speaking abilities. “God damn, pumpkin,” he sighs.  The look on his face tells you mission accomplished.

--------   

Having given it your all, you’re tired, too tired to think about getting that cock inside you.  You fall asleep in minutes.  In an hour or two, the bed is shaking rhythmically, Joel is breathing heavily and moaning.  His hot, sticky skin is pressed against your side, and his fist is grazing your hip as he strokes himself.  Then he begins to get on top of you.  

“Mmm,” you sigh as you stir awake. He uses his knees to spread your legs open. 

“You ready for it, baby?”

You blink awake and feel the tip of his cock at your clit.  He teases it rapidfire, slaping your clit with the tip. You’re so cock drunk, you just nod.  

“Hell yeah.”  He slides his hands under your thighs, preparing for an immediate mating press,  and lines himself up at your entrance.  “Mmm, yeah.” He shoves inside and his mouth falls open as he bottoms out with a sigh.  You moan as his girth spreads your insides. He grunts each time he thrusts, and then he presses your thighs back with his body. With your legs in the air, he thrusts into you a few more times. Then he plunges to the hilt with a grunt that becomes a long groan as he begins to pulse warmly against your cervix, his cock throbbing against your walls. He looks down at your body folded under him as he finishes coming. 

“God you’re fuckin’ hot,” he pants. He stays above you for a minute, then pulls out and lets your legs down.  

Maybe he never needs to know for sure that you’re on birth control. You’ll just be extra careful with your pills, and he’s welcome to keep trying. 

——

If you like this Joel, there's a lot more of him in night walks AU. You can pick and choose and skip around. Here's the whole bender this one shot is a part of:

Night Walks 5: Harder

✨BLOW (2k) - THIS FIC.

Night Walks 6: Morning After

⚠️ PLEASE FOLLOW TOXICFICS and subscribe to notifications in lieu of tag list since tags aren't working for many people ⚠️

Night Walks 7: Soaked

[pastorfutureletthembe]

Here we go again--

TRIP ABROAD TURNS INTO BUTTERFLY EFFECT

First thing worth mentioning is that the prime color in this artwork is pale blue. I feel like it's quite rare, most of INPLICK arts for Link Click have the same palette: burgundy red, shades of gray and black (except for the whole Surprise Beat thing which is splashed with flashy pink). All but this one:

(probably when they were 17 or sth)

For the sake of the argument, let's say it is a significant distinction to make. The reason is simple: the teaser taking place at the airport and the trailer prove that shit started three years ago, while CXS and LG's graduation trip. If this chronology is correct, then blue probably symbolizes Lu Guang's innocence or happiness. Blue used to paint Lu Guang but now he only sees the world in black, white and red. In the birthday official arts, blue is associated with his character. His flower is freaking Forget-Me-Not; Myosotis.

So yes, that's why I think the color palette here is relevant to the time period we're going to explore in the Yingdu Chapter.

The couch itself is blue when we're so used to the pair sitting on a brick sofa. The cakes and the flowers are the usual shade of red, though.

On the table: red roses in a vase. Petals are all over the place. Ominous. We actually see a roses bouquet in the PV of XETROverthink, held by Li Tianchen.

On the trolley: 1 bottle of wine, 2 CXS's feet, 3 glasses, 4 cakes, 5 individual desserts. The glass half full is Liu Xiao's, since it isn't on the trolley in the original artwork he is absent from. I said it in another post but the plate counts 4 portions, as in 4 antagonists, while the pudding might be Lu Guang's. The cakes are probably metaphors for timelines/curves, clocks dressed as desserts with a red fruit representing a dead Cheng Xiaoshi. V and VI are the only missing parts, just like Qiao Ling's one. CXS put his feet on the trail and I think it's both funny and tragic. I believe the correct saying is "put his foot in his mouth" but in french we say "mettre les pieds dans le plat", which literally translates "to put his feet in the plate" (to say something brutal with no tact or to do something stupid without thinking it through). He has both feet nearing timeline cakes and his head is five inches away from doomed flowers.

On the floor: 1 vintage phone. 1 camera. 2 envelopes, 3 pages of letters. 4 polaroids. Probably: 2 magazines and 3 pages of newspapers. The vintage phone could be relevant to THE TIDES, era-wise. The camera is taking polaroids and two of them are still dark, meaning they just took a shot and are yet to be revealed. The rest must be related to this chapter's plot. So much for holidays, guys (are they investigating CXS' missing parents?)

If you look closely, you'll see four different mentions of time:

Lu Guang's watch (hold this thought)

The polaroid: Big Ben

What looks like newspapers

The hourglass

We also have four mentions of information/communication

Letters

The polaroid: a public telephone box

Newspapers/magazines

Vintage phone (I was wondering why the phone had twelve numbers but after some research, I realized that some of them had # and *)

On another note, I don't know if their hands--

I mean, there's something definitely happening here but let's say for the sake of my sanity that what is supposed to be noticed are the sunglasses. If I'm being honest, this is the real oddity here and the teaser weirdly showed them off?? They're standing out because everything else is so blue for one thing.

They're pink-ish, which is close enough to magenta, so one of Lu Guang's colors (cf. Dive Back In Time). The color itself is weird for sunglasses. Lu Guang doesn't care about fashion, he wants practical. As a girl who loves pink sunglasses, I'll tell you: pink is shit at doing sunglasses' job. CXS told him to wear a cat hat, okay, but did he choose every other accessory?? My guess is that the pink served a purpose in connection with light.

And why is Lu Guang's watch on the other wrist in the artwork? I checked and LG wears it on his right wrist in the donghua and manhua. It can be the opposite for some artworks though... Or blocked from view for some reasons. It's almost as if we're not supposed to know which side is the actual reflection. 👀

Something else is reversed here, actually: the colors AND the pocket of Lu Guang's shirt. It could be a mistake, though.

>>>>> Basically, I think the artwork is telling us that the Yingdu Chapter is going to hurt and make us cry. If we're indeed about to see Lu Guang lose his humanity to try and save Cheng Xiaoshi for the first time therefore destroying worlds, I have no doubt it would be after Infinite Sadness™.

The real question this teaser isn't answering is either we'll go through the original timeline or a rewind. The last episode of season 2 makes me frown. How to be sure that the Lu Guang who dives exists before and not after the events we see unfold for two seasons? Is Yingdu Chapter a flash black or an actual dive itself? Lu Guang seems to be determinate and in a bad mood in the PV after all, could directly happen after one of CXS's deaths.

EDIT: someone mentioned that LG wears his watch on the left wrist when we get images of CXS getting stabbed. (It hurts right here in my meow meow)

[mayasaurusss]

Bites and kisses.

Contents: Misty (she's a warning herself), cuteness aggression, weird blonde woman, suggestive towards the end, short one-shot/blurb.

Requested by @fortheloveofaphroditesblessings! I am sorry, this is very short but I hope you will like it nonetheless!

Misty believes herself to be a woman of 'brain first, heart second'.

She's smart, calculating and cunning. Even in the most dire of situations, she tries to use her head and be as strategic as possible. That's why she got away with her... accidents over the years. But it all changes when she meets you.

You met Misty while taking care of your old auntie. Fate would have that you decided to take her in Misty's nursing home.

You caught her attention from the first moment. Ten minutes after seeing you for the first time, she already had a name and found information about you online. You know, like a normal person would.

With a little bit of planning, over the weeks, she managed to go on a date with you.

Of course, she already knew what would have happened. Either you would get bored with her, or she would have said some weird shit and warded you off. She had cronometrated that it would take aproximatley 13.42 minutes to end a date.

But when the minutes passes and nothing happens, she's a bit weirded out. Well, she is happy but this had never happened before. It takes all her willpower to try and be as 'un-misty' as possible and by the end of the night, another date is set.

Weeks pass and each one of them is filled with dates of any kind. By the time a month and a half has passed, Misty can proudly declare herself as taken.

As said, Misty believes herself to be a woman of 'brain first, heart second' but not when you are around her.

She'll come home after a long and strenous day, shoulders hard from fatigue. Her day has just been the worst but that all is washed away when she sees you, her cute lover, cuddled up in a blanket on her couch, waiting for her.

And you look just so cute, so adorable, all snuggled up for her. Misty, no kidding, will get a very bad attack of cuteness aggression. You wake up with your new found lover gripping at the couch's cushions, heavy breathing and blushing above you and for a moment you truly think she will murder you. Then, Misty reaches for your cheek, "You look just..." she gets in front of your face, "...so cute!!".

Your sleep is completly knocked out of you when she catapults herself on your lap, hands touching you everywhere.

"How can you be so cute?!" her cheeks are red and her eyes have somehow gotten darker and bigger. She looks postivley drunk out of her mind.

Her hands push at the muscles of your cheeks, pinching and kneading. To her you look just as a little helpless thing, tl be cherished and noursished. And yes, that is the exact same thought process of elephants.

Misty truly believes herself to be a woman of intellect, but she does aknowledge that sometimes, her body speaks before her mind does. Often she did things purely out of gain, simply because she wanted to.

"I just wanna...eat you!" and you remain completley motionless as she starts to bite down on your flesh. She gives a small but sure bite on your nose, then on your neck and jaw, leaving her marks on you, screming 'this is mine'. Her bites turn into tiny licks that follow the curve of your jaw and you try so hard to not get too turned on by her actions.

It doesn't seem she sees them as anything else than bonding, but as your breath starts to quicken and get heavier, so do her ministrations. Her kisses get heavier, slower and more sensual; you have to pray to any god there is out there to restrain yourself from jumping on her.

You ponder for a moment your life decisions as she's trailing up your neck towards your lips and ask to yourself ; Why am I attracted by this weird blondie?'.

[kairiscorner]

what if miguel and y/n switched bodies for a day bc of sum villain that put a spell on them or smth imagine how weirded out the hq would be to see miguel smiling and all cheerful just not being his usual self 💀💀 and y/n being grumpy and petty

HFIREOGHRJTNVEIFBBREUFI BOO, I ... you have awoken my younger self's love for freaky friday (yeah i liked that movie as a kid BWAHHAHAHAHAH) anyway, I LOVE THAT

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

being in your shoes. — miguel o'hara x reader

"wow... i'm a fucking statue come to life." said miguel's awestruck voice with a chuckle following his statement of disbelief. he admired his palms, then his knuckles and the backs of his hands and arms—every vein and every curve, groove, and bump of his muscular arms were just a sight to behold; and the way his fists looked when clenched, and the way his fingers unfolded like the blooming petals of a flower... it was too much for your heart to handle, which, in this case, was technically his heart—anatomically speaking. as he admired the beauty of, well, himself–you went up to him with widened eyes, which quickly morphed into a scowl. "this is... humiliating." your own voice muttered in a low voice, almost as a growl, but miguel chuckled and ruffled your hair. "ooh," the big man let out a soft sound of curiosity at the discovery that he was practically twice your size.

he pressed his elbow down onto your head, making you–rather, miguel–grumble at this act of degradation and disrespect upon shorter people. "wow, y'know, i wouldn't blame you for doing this to me if we ever got back to normal. hell, i don't even want to go back to normal! have you seen this body?" you asked him aloud with a chuckle, his own chuckle that was hardly ever heard, reverberating out into the atmosphere and making the you inside of his body swoon. "stop laughing, it's not funny, this is a cause for concern." he said with your voice as he folded your arms over your chest and glared at you, instinctively pouting despite his lips not appearing as pouty on purpose anymore.

"oh, shit, you do pout?" you asked him with a chuckle that made you giggle internally. miguel didn't appreciate how you abused his laugh so much that he grumbled and turned on his heel–in this scenario, it was your heel–and stormed out of his office as you remained there; admiring his wonderful body and flexing, asking lyla to take pictures of this rare moment when the photo shots of miguel are candid but also taken with such flare that you'd think he was crazy for agreeing to this–the miguel o'hara everyone knew was... nothing like this.

as you walked down the halls in a pink compression shirt and yoga volleyball shorts, as opposed to the usual spider suit miguel donned on every day–you smiled at everyone you met, even if they didn't greet you first–stunning and shocking everyone out of their minds. wide-eyed lenses and hung open mouths greeted you as you greeted them with a warm smile that nobody had ever witnessed before. it was like an silver lining had unexpectedly shown through as the eternal, dark and thunderous clouds tore the sky asunder and welcomed the first rays of sunshine that the spider society had sworn they saw before... on you. but that sunshine was replaced by a gray rainy day hovering over your head and furrowed eyebrows that didn't complement your soft, adorable, amicable face.

whenever anyone greeted you, with miguel in your body, he'd practically growl at them to a loud silence–he'd nod without even looking anybody's way, confusing everyone into thinking you woke up on the wrong side of the bed today or something really bad had happened to you. as everyone went over to you, patting your shoulder, asking you if you're okay–he's scream in your higher pitched voice that you were just peachy.

everyone was astonished at how boldly angry and furious you were being, and at how boldly sweet and darling miguel was being today–everyone kept referencing that a freaky friday situation must've happened to you two, with only miguel in your body explaining that was exactly the situation, but they all laughed it off as a joke, since it came out of your mouth. "yeah, pequeña–oh, fuck, that sounds sexy–yeah, uh, chiquita–you're acting out of your mind right now, darl." "darl?!" your voice snarled in an angry, squeaky voice, making miguel chuckle and ruffle your hair again. "so sweet for me, chiquita." you said in miguel's voice, teasing him in your body as he grumbled.

oh, this was not gonna be fun for him, at all... but it was gonna be way, way too much fun for you.

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @hearts4gabri @hisachuu @wreakingmarveloushavok @fictarian @yuridopted0 @simsrandomstuff @luvstarrstruck @popeheywardssecretgf @meeom @arachnoia @melovetitties @fable-library @ophanimgold @smokeywhalee @capnshtfce

[teecupangel]

Proposal: instead of Desmond sets up a bakery, he sets up a new bar. But specifically manages to pull off such weird drinks from the future that everyone is fully 100% convinced that he’s really a witch.

Baker Desmond AU in Third Crusades Levant, Renaissance Italy and Colonial America

“This is witchcraft! Sorcery! The work of the devil!”

Desmond wondered if he should just book it.

Sure, it had taken time to create this bar. So many long hours finding the cheapest most okay building in a busy street. So many times talking to people to get them to open up to him and finally give his drinks a shot.

Well… more than a shot.

He knew cocktails would prove to be his selling point.

He even made mocktails for those who do not partake but he made sure they were more expensive than the usual because… well… profit.

Could Desmond be doing something else in his new lease of life?

Absolutely.

Was he going to?

No.

This was Altaïr’s territory… sorta.

Desmond had complete faith that Altaïr do as history demanded.

So Desmond could retire.

But, in all honesty…

He wished Altaïr could just assassinate Garnier de Naplouse already so he wouldn’t have to deal with this crap.

He should have just opened his bar away from Levant.

Maybe he should?

“Desmond, if you can just prove to the Grand Master’s representative that you don’t make concoction of the devil-”

The knight was one of his regulars. He was just trying to help (and keep his favorite bar alive).

But Naplouse’s representative.

He could see the greed in the man’s eyes as he continued to hurl garbage at him.

Desmond was pretty sure Naplouse didn’t even order this.

Desmond made sure he was kept busy with not being able to have enough ‘patients’ after all.

(Just because he’s not actively assassinating Altaïr’s targets doesn’t mean he would just a turn a blind eye to the atrocities he knew was happening)

No.

This man wanted to learn his secrets.

He wanted to encroach on Desmond’s hard-earned monopoly.

Desmond’s lips curved into the smile he had perfected after years of having to deal with the lowest trashes as a bartender.

“I understand.”

The greed in that man’s eyes shone brighter.

… as Desmond’s smile grew colder.

“I will pack up and leave then.”

“WHAT?!”

The exclamation of surprise came not only from the man harassing him and the knight who was trying to help him but from the three other guards who were just standing behind them.

An intimidation tactics if Desmond ever saw one.

He was sure they would trash his place if they were ordered to.

Reluctantly, of course.

But trashing one’s place was better than being called insubordinate and punished for it.

If things go to shit, Desmond could just kick all their asses and book it.

Desmond clasped his hands together as he said lightly, “Actually, someone came before and offered me a job in Ḥalab. I refused, of course.”

Which was true.

“But considering how-” Desmond stressed the word, “… unappreciated I am here.”

Desmond continued to smile as he said, “I believe it’s time for me to leave this place. Ḥalab is filled with many merchants with different ingredients I can use for my…”

Desmond glared at the greedy man as he continued to politely smile, “… concoctions.”

“Tha-that’s-” The man spluttered before shouting, “That is an admission of guilt! By not showing how you make them, you are admitting to being a devil worshiper.”

Desmond could see that none of his guards were buying that crap.

But they were powerless as well.

Desmond’s smile fell as he said, “If you’re not going to let me leave in peace, then I’ll just have to take you all down and keep you silent until I have to leave.”

“I promise not to give any of you lasting damage except you…” Desmond stared at the greedy man who flinched, “I’ll hurt you in a way that will make you remember your stupidity every single day.”

Desmond stepped towards him, making the knights take a step towards the man to protect him, the nearest one whispering, “Desmond, wai-”

“I won’t kill you.” Desmond smiled once more, making everybody freeze as a cold shudder went up their spine, “But you will waste the rest of your life wishing I had.”

.

.

That afternoon, Desmond the bartender left Acre. When the people checked his bar later that night, they saw men unconscious on the floor with one of Naplouse’s men tied to a chair, conscious but barely coherent.

Carved on his forehead was the words “1 Timothy 6:9”.

.

Desmond did not, in fact, go to Ḥalab.

But he did start his next bar in one of the cities that is part of the Silk Road.

[talaok]

Good afternoon honey, I was wondering if you could write dark! Joel x plus size reader where the reader is suffering with body image and that night you go out to a club and meet Joel but smut? love the blog🥰

Pairing:Joel Miller x plus size!reader

Warnings: body image problems, negative talk of reader's body and self, smut| dub-con, unprotected p in v sex, a bit of degrading, and dark! Joel

A/n: ok ok ok I've never written a plus-size reader so if this is bad just tell me, honestly, I'll delete it, it's fine (yes I'm really nervous about this, I'm scared it's disrespectful) thank you so much for the ask tho babe💗

The dress looked absolutely horrendous on you. It was too tight and too loose in all the wrong places.

Your curves looked like they were stretching the fabric so much it was gonna tear the moment you took a step, and the makeup on your face now just looked like a pathetic attempt at driving people's attention away from it.

This was a mistake, you sighed, looking at the loser staring back at you from the other side of the mirror.

I should have never agreed to this, It's so fucking stupid.

You mumbled to yourself as you unsuccessfully tried fixing the dress in any way that wouldn't make it look so incredibly ridiculous.

Maybe I can pretend I'm sick or something, 

Maybe I got a really bad headache all the sudden,

Maybe I got fucking infected, I don't know, that would be believable. I can just start making some weird ass noises and I doubt she'd still want to go out with me.

"Hey, you ready?" Kora opened the door, causing all your plans to fall apart with one single action.

"yep" you forced a smile "all ready"

"Great, let's go!"

fuck my life man.

__ __ __

"Are you serious?" you asked, actually kind of mad

"I know, I know, I'm sorry"

"you've just met him" you pointed out, frustration and annoyance lacing your tone.

"I know" she repeated "but-" she sighed, glancing back at the man "he's so hot y/n, I mean-"

you rolled your eyes "Whatever, go have fun, I'm just gonna go home"

"no don't go home, you can have fun without me," she said "Maybe with someone else..." she raised her brows suggestively and you felt one breath away from punching her.

You shot her a look.

Yeah, like anyone would want to "have fun" with me

"what?" she asked, clueless

you stared at her, the same expression in your eyes.

"you know what"

"oh my god," she moaned "again with this thing? Y/n you're hot as fuck, anyone with half a brain cell can see that"

You remained silent.

You hated the pity party of having everyone constantly lie to you about how you looked.

Just tell me the truth. I look like shit.

It's fine, I know it, you know it, the whole world fucking knows it so stop talking to me like I'm a fucking baby and tell me the truth.

I can take it. Trust me, I've been telling it to myself since I was born.

"in fact..." A small smirk tugged at her lips as her eyes focused somewhere behind you " I think somebody definitely noticed" she grinned like an idiot as she stared at someone behind you.

"shut up" you stopped her "You know he's not," you said "He's probably looking at you"

"Oh no" she shook her head, that stupid smile still tugging at her lips "No he's definitely looking at you" She waved at him and you immediately grabbed her hand, forcing it down

"stop! what are you doing!?"

"I'm helping you out" she smirked "You'll thank me later," she said with a wink, turning to walk away but not before chuckling a taunting"Have fun"

Goddamnit

You could feel the heat rushing to your cheeks as you sneakily tried to catch a glimpse of whatever Kora was talking about.

She was probably bluffing, you thought as you slowly turned, but just then, you had to think again.

A man was looking at you, no, not looking, staring.

His eyes were pointed at you like a viewfinder in a gun. 

He was sat at a table alone, an empty beer bottle clutched in one hand, and the other one relaxed on his leg.

He looked focused, like a tiger watching a gazelle.

His salt and pepper beard suggested he was older, and so did the lines across his forehead.

But most of all... his eyes were the tell.

His deep brown eyes staring back at yo-

shit

You turned away.

Fuck

I was staring at him,

You clutched your purse to leave, but a voice stopped you in your tracks.

"hi sweetheart"

He sounded exactly how you'd imagined.

You turned to him, your eyes glimmering with shame

"hi" you breathed "Sorry if I bothered you"

He chuckled "A pretty thing like you could never bother me"

he sat down "Besides," he said "I was staring at you first"

You forced a chuckle as an awkward silence fell between you.

"I saw your friend left," he said, sitting down on the stool next to you,

"yeah" You nodded "She does that a lot"

"that's too bad" he cooed "well maybe not entirely" he considered, something switching in his tone.

"What's your name sweetheart?"

"I-I'm y/n"

"y/n" he let your name roll out his mouth with ease "pretty name for a pretty lady" he commented, "I'm Joel"

"nice to meet you" you mumbled, stumbling over your own words.

Was he coming onto you? 

"the pleasure's all mine darling"

He definitely was

But, like... why?

"I'm sorry-do you- do you know my friend?"

He grinned, his white teeth showing "no,"

"she didn't like, tell you to come here or anything?"

A small laugh fled his throat "no sweetheart"

"oh" you breathed "so you came here 'cause..." you trailed off, 

" 'cause you caught my eye from the moment you entered, and when I saw your friend leave you here all alone, I couldn't not offer a bit of company"

You felt a shy smile spill from your lips

" 'got a pretty smile angel" he smirked 

"t-thank you" 

He chuckled again "Why are you so nervous sweetheart?" he asked, his hand traveling to your thigh and stopping all oxygen from getting to your lungs "Is it me? Am I so scary?" his voice got lower as he inched closer "I don't bite y'know?" he joked "not unless you want me to"

A small gasp fled your throat, making him chuckle.

"what is it, angel?"

"I-I'm sorry I'm just not- used to this"

"Now I don't believe that" he murmured "A sweet thing like you?"

"I just-"

"What?"

"nevermind"

"If you want we could go back to my place, and you can tell me all about it with a little more privacy" he suggested, "what do you say?"

Your cheeks were as red as the fire burning in his eyes.

"I-" you stuttered

"I can show you a good time angel"

"I'm sorry" you breathed, leaning away "I'm-I'm sorry I have to go to the bathroom" You stumbled over your own words, clutching your purse and rushing off the stool and through the groups of people in the club.

You didn't even realize you were bumping and hitting every person in your trajectory as all you were focused on was that damn door right in the corner.

Oh my god, what felt like the first actual breath you'd taken in ten full minutes, finally left your mouth as you entered the bathroom.

"oh my god," you mumbled to yourself, walking to the sink to look at your reflection in the mirror.

"what the fuck was that?" you sighed 

Am I dreaming? Is that it?

If that's it this is not funny brain.

I'm so confused,

This is... I mean this is just-

What the fuck is this?

He's hot. Like hot hot and I'm... You looked at yourself, and I'm me.

You took a deep breath, looking around you.

The green stalls were empty, and the music was still blaring from the other side of the door.

You could still picture him, feel him. He was so close to you, and you could feel every molecule of your being dancing as his hand remained on your leg.

God, what the fuck

I don't even know how old he is.

And just then, the door opened.

You turned the faucet on to pretend to be washing your hands, but a voice startled you.

"there you are"

Your eyes snapped open

"T-This is the women's bathroom"

Joel smirked, "you thought you could get away from me that easily?" he asked, taking a step towards you.

"I-" you took a step back, but he followed.

"I was being nice there," he said "complimented you and shit" 

Your back was to a stall and he was right before you.

"and what did you do?" he asked "you ran"

"I didn't mean to, I was j-"

"what, angel?" he mocked "You got shy?"

"well don't you worry" His hand went to your chin, tilting it up "I'll fix that right up" He took another step, imprisoning you "I'll help you out sweetheart, mh?"

Your mouth gaped open to say something, but before you could, his lips were on yours, and his hands on your back were forcing you flush against him.

His tongue moved into your mouth as he quite literally shoved you into the stall behind you, pressing you against the closed door.

"thought you could get away from me?" he growled, kissing your neck as his hands roamed on your body, one of them roughly grabbing your ass "Thought I was just gonna let you go?" he asked, now looking at you.

"oh no angel" he kissed your mouth "I have to have you" he murmured "And I will" He kissed you again, and this time, you found yourself reciprocating.

This was wrong and scary and weird, and still... countless butterflies filled your belly.

"there you go" he praised you "That's a good girl" He moved some hair out of your face " 'knew you wanted this too," he said "knew you'd be good, angel" He smirked before you felt his hands go to your waist.

"turn around for me"

With a little push from him, you did, finding your cheek flush against the door.

"god baby" his hands took in every inch of you, adoration clear in his tone "Wanted to fuck this body of yours since I first saw you" he explained, as he slowly rolled your dress up to your waist until only your panties were left to cover you.

"it's what you wanted too, isn't it," he asked, suddenly grabbing your arms to force them together behind your back "You wanted to be fucked like a little slut didn't you?" he continued as his hand pulled your panties down, the cold hitting your core "didn't you angel?" he urged, his grip tightening as he kissed your neck again.

"I-" You didn't know what to say. you were feeling too many things at once.

"Tell me you want this" he breathed, and you heard his zipper being undone.

"tell me you want this angel," he asked again, his hot breath on the skin of your neck "C'mon, I know you do"

" I do" you admitted, and you felt him smirk.

"that's right" He nodded, positioning himself at your entrance "and you're gonna get it" he promised, pushing himself into you hard.

"fuck" Your moan resembled more of a scream as you tightened your fists on your back

"What angel, can't take it?" he taunted, speeding up " 's too big for you little slut?"

"y-yes" you begged, making him chuckle "I can't take it"

"yes you can" he groaned "You're gonna take it all in this little tight pussy and you're not gonna complain about it, understand?"

"understand?" he asked again, his threatening voice spilling in your ear.

"y-yes I'm sorry"

"good girl" he praised, resuming his violent pace, as a cry fled your mouth and tears filled your eyes.

He smacked your ass and you gasped, but before you could let out a moan, his hand covered your mouth.

The door had opened, and two women had walked in.

"we gotta be quiet, angel" he whispered to your ear

"can you be quiet for me?"

"can you be a good little girl and keep that pretty mouth shut for me?

"mh-mh" you nodded, your breathing made difficult by his hand on your mouth

"atta girl," he said, still fucking you, but much slower, and to your dismay, much deeper.

He was hitting undiscovered spots inside of you, and the mix of the pain from his cock stretching you with the pleasure of each thrust was making it really hard not to moan.

"fuck" he groaned softly in your ear "You've got the tightest little pussy angel," he said "Squeezing me so good" he breathed " like it's made for me"

You whined

"Like you were made to be my little slut" he whispered "and have this little cunt abused by my cock"

Your eyes were wide shut, your orgasm approaching as he kept hitting you so fucking well.

"you coming angel?" he asked and you nodded "We're gonna come together" he purred "I'm gonna fill you up real good" his breathing was ragged "and then you're gonna get out there and dance with my come leaking down your thighs"

"you understand?"

You nodded 

"no cleaning up," he said "I want everyone to know how much of a slut you are" 

The women's voices resumed. Or maybe they never stopped. You had no idea of what was happening beside your impending orgasm.

"fuck" he groaned "Such a good fucking slut" he whispered, his head falling in the crook of your neck, as the door opened again and the women finally got out.

His hand left your mouth

"you coming angel?"

"y-yes"

"then let it all out baby"

[justagalwhowrites]

hi hun! ❤️ send you this for the no outbreak joel haunted house/haunted hayride/haunted forest one shot. thank you so much again! you are the best. 😊

HI BESTIE!!!

Love this ask so much!! I felt like New in Town Joel was the best Joel for this one, so here's BFD!Joel taking Beautiful to a haunted house because he's the kind of guy who will do anything his woman wants. And we love that for us <3

Hope this is what you're looking for!

Haunted House

You've always loved haunted houses so your boyfriend, Joel Miller, takes you to one just before Halloween. Featuring New in Town Joel Miller and set between the chapters First Thanksgiving and Second New Year.

Pairing: Best Friend's Dad!Joel Miller from New in Town x Female Reader from New in Town

CW: Smut! No use of Y/N. Minors DNI, 18+ only

Length: 2.1k

“You’re kidding.” 

“Promise you, Beautiful, I’m really not.” 

You gaped at Joel as the two of you made your way from the makeshift dirt parking area to the ticket booth for the haunted manor. 

“Joel,” you laughed in disbelief. “You love horror movies! How have you never been to a haunted house?” 

“Haunted houses are very different things,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Movies are just in your living room or a theater, shit’s not actually there…” 

You stopped in your tracks and it took Joel a second to realize he’d lost you and come to a stop, too. 

“What?” He frowned. 

“You’re scared.” 

“No,” he scoffed a little too hard and a little too fast. “I’m not scared, I just…”

He trailed off. 

“Just what?” You teased, stepping up close to him so you were just inches away from him, smiling up at him. 

“Just not sure I’m gonna like feelin’ out of control,” he said, sounding a little sheepish as he tugged you against him, one hand on your waist the other cupping your cheek to tilt your head toward his.  

You frowned a little. He sounded more genuinely unsure than you’d expected. 

“We don’t have to go,” you said. “Really, I don’t need to do it…” 

“You like your haunted houses,” he smiled a little and kissed you gently. “Want to do it with you. Besides, who knows. Maybe I’ll like it.” 

 “OK,” you said, still a little uncertain but you kissed him quickly, anyway. “But if you change your mind, we go home.” 

He laughed a little. 

“Not changing my mind, Beautiful. Let’s go get the shit scared out of us by fake serial killers.” 

“Also probably clowns,” you smiled, taking his hand and leading him to the ticket booth. 

Joel felt antsy behind you as you stood in line, his arms draped over your shoulders, holding your back to his front, his lips occasionally finding your temple or your cheek or the curve of your ear. 

“Don’t worry, Baby,” you smiled back over your shoulder at him and gave his forearm a squeeze. “I’ll keep you safe.” 

“Gonna use you as a human shield at the clown part,” he teased. 

You laughed as the two of you were guided into the first room of the haunted house, wallpaper peeling and rotting wood exposed. A lamp flickered ominously from the corner and there was a creak from a shadowy spot near the hallway on the other side of the room. Your heart rate picked up and you squealed a little, too excited to hold it in. 

Joel laughed. 

“Really don’t understand you sometimes, Beautiful.” 

You smiled, taking his hand again. 

“Away we go!” 

You kept his hand tight in yours and crept across the room, watching and waiting for something to jump out at you. 

The two of you almost made it to the hallway when a woman leapt out of the darkest corner, screaming and reaching for you. You jumped and yelped and Joel tugged you against him before he laughed and relaxed his hold on you. 

“See?” You said as the woman snarled and reached but kept her distance. “It’s fun!” 

“Maybe,” he said, keeping an eye on the woman as you led the way to the hall. “Still think you’re weird.” 

In the hall, you were met with a tall, knife wielding man, making you yelp and making Joel jump between you and the would-be attacker as the pair of you ran past him and into the next room. 

“See, I can tell this isn’t an actual horror movie,” he said, a little breathless once there was a moment of quiet. 

“Yeah?” You asked, sticking close to him, on the look out for the next fright. “How?” 

“We fuck way too much to survive a slasher,” he said, pressing a quick kiss to your temple as you laughed. “It’s always the virgins who make it out alive.”

The next room you stumbled into was filled with sloppy, neon paint and ominous organ music. 

“Thought you were kidding about the damn clowns,” Joel muttered. You didn’t get a chance to reply before a clown jumped out at you, cackling as he reached and groped. 

You ran, too busy holding Joel’s hand and watching the first clown to fully watch where you were going and ended up running head first into another clown, his face paint streaked with blood and teeth sharpened to points. You screamed and jumped back into Joel, who caught you and held you close. You dodged the second clown, pulling Joel along with you as you ducked below the clown’s arm and ran for the next door. 

The zombie room freaked you out the most, skin hanging from his face as he scrambled across the floor for you in an eerie, inhuman way. It was so sudden and from such an unexpected place you shrieked and froze, Joel tucking you behind him and guiding you to the next room as you peered around his arm to the man snarling at the two of you. 

It had been years since you’d gone to a haunted house with a guy but you found yourself getting turned on, being so close to Joel when you were scared, watching him instinctively protect you - even though you knew there wasn’t anything to actually protect you from. 

The feeling got stronger the longer you were in the haunted house, almost a distraction by the time you reached the last room. Once you were headed back to the car, your panties were wet and you were trying to remember just how far of a drive it was back to the house. 

“That wasn’t too bad,” Joel said, his arm draped around your shoulders. “Some of the noises you make…” 

You smirked a little. 

“Bet you could make me make other noises.” 

“Oh yeah?” He asked, voice low. 

“Think there was an empty park few miles down the road,” you said, turning to face him, walking backwards and guiding his hands to your waist. “We could see if there are any serial killers looking for hapless, horny victims in cars.” 

“You seriously tryin’ to get me to fuck you in a parking lot?” He raised his eyebrows. 

“Are you arguing?” 

“Absolutely not,” he growled, pulling you into him and kissing you. “Never gonna argue with that.” 

You laughed and went alongside him again, tucked under his arm. 

“I will say, after that adventure, I feel confident in my zombie apocalypse plan,” you said, lacing your fingers with his that were dangling over your shoulder. 

“You have a zombie apocalypse plan?” He laughed. 

“You don’t?” You frowned at him, skeptical. “How many times have we watched Shaun of the Dead and you don’t have a zombie apocalypse plan?”  

“Apparently I don’t need one,” he teased. “You got it covered. Alright, fill me in, what’s the plan.” 

“Well, first, we make sure we’re in the same place,” you said. “Because you’re clearly going to be my best hope at survival.” 

“Sure,” he said and you could tell he was fighting a smile. 

“Then we go get Sarah.” 

“Naturally.” 

“Then Tommy and Maria,” you continued. “Because I feel like between you and Tommy we’ll do pretty well.” 

“Feelin’ like you’ve got more confidence in my zombie fighting skills than is really appropriate,” he was fully smiling now. 

“Nah,” you waved him off. “You’d do great. Anyway, we haul ass to Galveston, steal a ship, ride it out on the water.” 

“See that part’s not bad,” he said. “You all wet in a swim suit all the time. I can get behind that. Alright, guess we can adopt your zombie plan as the official Miller zombie plan.” 

“A vital part of any household, truly,” you smiled as he opened your car door for you before getting in the driver’s seat himself. 

“You serious about the park?” He asked, brows raised. 

You just reached across to his lap, taking hold of his thick, half hard cock through his jeans, stroking him slowly, firmly. 

“Depends,” you said, voice darkening with want. “Think you can make it to the house?” 

 He groaned. 

“Park it is.” 

When you made it there, he didn’t even have a chance to turn the car off when you’d unbuckled your seatbelt and all but dove into his lap, taking his cock into your mouth with a satisfied moan. His hand flew to the back of your head as you took him into your throat, sucking him and working his shaft with the press of your tongue. 

“Christ, Beautiful,” he was already panting and you pressed your thighs together, looking for some kind of friction, some kind of relief from the needy ache inside you. “Didn’t know a haunted house would get you this hot n’ bothered…” 

You moaned around his cock and sucked hard, his fingers knotting in your hair as he guided you up and down his shaft, swallowing the salty taste of him that made your mouth water. 

“Not gonna last, you keep doin’ that,” his voice was strained, thick. You sucked him harder and his hips thrust up into your mouth. “Oh shit, Baby…” 

You could feel him stiffen and he yanked your head off him and you pouted at him, savoring the taste of him on your tongue. 

“Got another place I’d rather come if that’s alright with you,” he panted, looking at you with wide eyes in the moonlight. Even in the near total darkness you could tell his pupils were blown. 

“Fuck, please,” you said, kicking off your shoes and yanking down your leggings, Joel watching hungrily while stroking himself, still dripping with your spit as he did. 

“Goddamn, need inside you Baby,” he managed as you clambered over the center console and straddled him. You aligned him at your entrance and took him into yourself in one firm, swift motion and you both moaned in relief at it, the feeling of being joined. You sat still on top of him for a moment, adjusting to the size of him. It didn’t seem to matter how many times you’d fucked him, he was so thick and long he always stretched you in a way that was just on the pleasurable side of pain, the initial burn satisfying as he utterly filled you. As the burn faded, you started to ride him, his hands on your hips as you set a heady and needy pace over him. 

Joel brought a hand to your front, his thumb pressing into your clit, his fingers cupping your sex, spreading around where he was entering you, making you moan. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, the hand that was still on your hip lowering his seat back so he could see where you were joined before moving to your thigh. “Look so damn pretty taking this cock.” 

“Joel,” you moaned, your body getting tight around him. “I’m gonna come, I’m gonna fucking come…” 

“Good,” he thrust up into you. “Make me fucking feel it, Baby. Want to feel you come, want to feel you come all over me.” 

He pressed harder into your clit and it was like all the heat in your body suddenly centered on your core, everything going molten and tight before you came apart around him, your hips stilling over him as your pussy throbbed around him. 

“Fuck, there you go,” he fucked up into you through your orgasm, pressing deep, working your clit. “Gonna fill you up, leave myself so deep in you…” 

“Please,” you panted, still not able to control your body as you rode out the last of your climax. “Need it Joel, need you to come for me.” 

“Fuck!” He gasped and you felt him press deep and throb hard inside you, the heat of him pumping into you over and over as your pussy gave his thick cock a final milking squeeze. 

You slumped over onto his chest as he finished, his length still buried deep inside you, both of you panting for breath. 

“Alright,” he said after a minute, his hands going to your bare ass as he leaked out of your pussy. “Decided I love haunted houses.” 

You laughed. 

“Really?” You teased, kissing his neck. 

“Oh yeah,” he said, still breathless. “If it gets you to fuck me in the car like we’re damn teenagers, it’s my new favorite thing. Gonna have to do this every Halloween.” 

“Every Halloween?” You asked, lifting your head to look at him. 

“Every one,” he smiled. “As long as I spend them with you.”

You smiled back. 

“Think I like the sound of that.” 

He sat up just enough that his lips could reach yours. 

“You and me both, Beautiful.” 

[sensitiveheartless]

...Somethin' please!

Hiya, thanks for the ask! :D This is the fic which I started writing a while back and then completely forgot about (the non-descriptive title I gave it did not help lol) — but basically it's a very silly college AU where Albatross comes up with a very stupid plan for Chuuya to get kissed for the first time at a dorm party. (Dazai has known Chuuya since they were both fifteen and is internally Seething over the entire situation)

Here's a rather long snippet to give the proper vibe:

---

Chuuya sighed, and thumped his head back against the wall of the closet.

Worse than the indignity of it all was how boring it was. Time felt like it crawled by even slower when he couldn’t even check the time on his phone.

Like anyone was going to come in, anyway. What kind of weirdo would be desperate enough to kiss someone who was blindfolded? And to kiss Chuuya, no less. He wasn’t exactly known for his sunny disposition. They’d probably be too afraid of him kicking them.

Chuuya shifted restlessly. He could just leave, he knew. Ditch the entire party. It seemed pretty lame so far, and it wasn’t like Chuuya wanted to be kissed…

Much.

…Alright, maybe he was a little curious, just to see what all the fuss was about.

But only a little. It was just that he hadn't ever gotten a chance to fool around during his high school years, not with how quickly everything went to shit—and even after Adam found him and things began to look up, Chuuya had been far too busy trying to put his life back together to bother with dating.

Still, this seemed like a pretty stupid way to lose his first kiss. Why the hell had Albatross thought this was a good idea?

Ugh. Whatever. He would give it another couple of minutes, and then he’d leave. Yeah. No one was gonna come in, anyway.

Of course, at that exact moment, the closet door creaked open.

Chuuya stiffened, glowering even though the other person wouldn't be able to see it. Raucous sounds from the party outside filtered in with the mystery person, at least until the closet door latched shut once again with a gentle click.

…So there were people desperate and weird enough to do this?!

“Hey,” Chuuya said, just to break the silence. He could hear the other person breathing, hushed and a little fast. Were they nervous? “Come to take a shot at it? Honestly, I think this whole thing is stupid as hell, but I’m not gonna stop ya.”

The other person’s breathing did something funny, but they didn’t move. They had to be standing quite close to Chuuya, considering how small the closet was, but the two of them weren’t touching at all.

After a moment of expectant silence, Chuuya frowned. “Oi, are you really just gonna stand there?” he asked, blindly reaching forward. “Who are you, anyw—?”

Before he could get out the last word, Chuuya found himself pulled abruptly into the person’s arms. Contrary to his expectations, however, he was not kissed—instead, he was crushed against the other’s chest, his cheek squished against what he guessed to be their collar bone.

Chuuya blinked behind the darkness of his blindfold.

This person had snuck in here, just to…hug him?

If it could even be called a hug, because it certainly wasn’t like any embrace Chuuya had received before. Nothing like the brisk but warm hugs he got from Adam, or the awkward one-armed hugs from Shirase, or the enthusiastic bone-crushing squeezes from Albatross whenever his friend got overexcited.

If anything, this grip was possessive, and seemed almost desperate with the way the person’s fingers dug into the curve of Chuuya’s spine, keeping the two of them plastered together. They were quite a bit taller than Chuuya, and their embrace was so tight that he could barely keep his toes on the ground.

It was annoying, but also kind of…interesting.

Chuuya tried to focus on the feeling of the fabric pressed against his cheek. Knitted, slightly scratchy material—with cables? A wool sweater?

It was certainly warm. Chuuya felt like he was burning up.

…He had really never been held like this before. Like the other person couldn’t bear to let him go. For the life of him, Chuuya didn’t know what to make of it.

After a few stunned moments, Chuuya squirmed a little. The arms around him loosened at once, allowing him to move his own hands up between them and brace himself against the mystery person’s chest.

Chuuya raised his chin towards where the other person’s face must be, and cocked his head to the side challengingly. “What? Was this all you wanted?” he asked, tapping a finger against the person’s chest. “Maybe you misunderstood the game, hmm? I thought you were supposed to ki—”

[libraford]

I don't mean to keep talking about work shit but I'm back in that place where I like what I do and want to continue to do it, but there are parts of it that are starting to wear on me personally.

Work bitching under the cut.

We have a whole new crew this season except for me. And my boss is getting more stressed out because of her bosses, which means that when the new crew has questions it falls to me. Which is fine- the person who trained me was real knowledgeable and I'm decent at coming up with solutions to problems on my own.

The new people think I'm 'very chill.' But the truth is that most of the problems they're fussing over are things that I've encountered before and I know how to solve them or who to call if I can't. Sometimes my solutions aren't perfect and the overhead bosses notice that we had to rig something.

My immediate boss wants perfection. I told her that I can't promise that. She still thinks that I can do that, but I've never been a perfectionist. She will show you every hair out of place, every wrinkle in every collar, every misplaced crop.

Well?

Our subjects are children and children are imperfect. I didn't wash my hair for a year in fifth grade because I had constant earaches and didn't want to get my head wet. Sometimes kids are just funny looking- they make weird faces when you tell them to smile, they bug their eyes out, they don't sit still. Like I'm sorry, parents, that your kid doesn't sit with perfectly placed hands and a natural smile- but that's your goofy kid. Love and cherish their goofy years.

With most kids, I have a few tricks for getting them to fix their shirts and hair, get into the correct pose, and somewhat approaching a natural picture smile. But when you're doing 60 subjects a minute, some of them are not going to be perfect.

Yesterday I had a student who was special needs, did not like to be touched, and had specific wants for her photo. Her mother died last month and she wanted a photo of her holding the locket with her picture in it. Its the cutest photo ever.

They'll see that I went off-book. They'll see that her skirt isn't perfectly pleated. They'll see that she has some stray hairs.

I made an accommodation for this child. I accepted that we weren't going to get it perfect, but we were going to get a photo that her grandparents were going to cherish forever. Its truly an adorable photo. If I waited for perfect, I wasn't gonna get it.

Another kid was having a bad day. She was crying. I had to take her picture while she was crying, which is insult to injury for a kid who is having an internal crisis. We weren't going to get perfect.

I instruct the special needs teachers to send their kids to me because I'm very patient and I know some tricks and I know my equipment and I know how to make some adjustments to make it easier that some of my new photographers might not. I may not get perfect. I hope for happy, I hope for 'looking at the camera.' Its a win if I get both.

When I'm doing yearbook candids, I do fast and good. I have a system that allows me to take a rather high volume of decent photos that I know will look good in a yearbook without interrupting a class to get them. You literally can't get perfect here except on accident. They're kids in their natural environment.

When I'm doing sports candids I aim for volume. I know where to stand to get the best shots. If I take enough pictures, occasionally I get a really good one. But I don't look for perfect. I can't be like 'hey basketball dude, could you twist your hips a little bit to get that flattering curve of your spine?' Not happening.

I learned to work fast because I am being asked to do multiple things within a short time frame, so I learned how to process tasks in an efficient way: learning the typical building layout to minimize my workload and prepare for certain hiccups that happen often.

I mention them to the new people. I tell them that I am good and fast because I have done these things for three years and I am familiar with thinking on my feet. Often, I have to get things done quickly so that I can go help the new photographers who are struggling. If they prefer to go slow and focus on details first, that's fine. I will focus on volume and speed, I will pick up the slack while they are still learning.

I am told that I am going too fast. I need to slow down, focus on details, get things right instead of get them done.

But which would you prefer? That your kid was just a little messy for their photo or that I didn't take their photo at all because we ran out of time? Last season, one of our photographers had an emergency and I had to photograph nearly 800 students by myself.

The boss was shocked that they were good. Glad to hear we were expecting garbage.

Yesterday, while at a job, the boss was there to help one of the new photographers with one of the more complicated tasks. The new photographer felt that she was being pressed to go faster than her standards would allow. I told her afterwards that speed comes with time, there are some things you can't account for, and it wasn't necessary to push her that hard.

Our other new photographer is a 'perfectionist' and she takes so very much time getting every hair and every position and every expression, but she struggles to put up her equipment every time and if there's a problem she shuts down and can't think of a solution.

I have to be able to set up quickly so that I can make sure she has an extra hand to help her with issues. I have to photograph quickly to make sure that if she needs help I'm available.

And her photos are not really that much better. I'm often coaching her on cropping, on posture.

Slow does not equate perfection. Every person I've met that calls themselves a perfectionist is a perfectionist until it comes to the actual job.

She wants me to do class groups. Every time she trains me on class groups, there is some reason that I have to hop onto a solo unit. The first time it was because one of our photographers, another perfectionist, was taking too long and it created a bottleneck. Last time, it was because our other photographer went into labor and the remaining photographer was slower than hell.

So I'm learning that my speed and ease is an asset in these situations, but in situations where speed is not an asset then I should slow down- which experience tells me that if you slow down you're not guaranteed to do better.

Earlier in the week, I was showing one of the new girls how to do a dance backdrop setup. I had her look over my shoulder while I did the white balance and then exposure. I had shown her how to do it on a previous day and this was just reinforcement. Its also something that we do literally on every job, just in a different context- she should understand the concept and I gave her the option to raise any questions.

The boss told me that if I'm training someone how to do something I should show them how to do it, then mess up the settings on purpose for them, and then have them fix it. We were running behind schedule and I had actually been on schedule to leave like two hours prior but chose to stay so that we could work on this project together. I was not intending on training anyone.

She asks me why I don't want to become a trainer.

Its not usually like this. Usually, I can coast a little. But I'm filling the shoes of a couple people that had to sit this season out and now she's busting my chops to be perfect when 'perfect' was never my goal.

I dunno.

Its exhausting.

[darin-nidk]

I love You paparazzi Velvette x reader! Can you do a part 2 where Velvette finds out how the reader feels about her?

A/N.: Why, thank you! I am flattered. Let's see, it was a one-shot buuut I'll give it another go.

#Paparazzi • PT. II | Velvette x Reader.

Prev.|

Content: Manipulative behavior, stalking, obsessive Reader.

Velvette wasn't opposed to blinding loyalty, in fact, the young overlord felt incredibly proud and cheeky whenever someone offered (Y/N), —one of her most beautiful models, scouted on one of her 'free' days—, a better work proposal which her ever so stoic model rejected in the blink of an eye.

But this was... disturbing. Hell, Velvette felt fucking weirded out by this. A pit in her stomach, body trembling with disgust and yet... a breathless 'hah!' left past her lips which soon curved into an amused smile, a manicured hand running her fingers through her hair.

HOURS AGO.

(Y/N) was sick, bedridden even. And they claimed they'd be fine by the following day but Velvette worried since they were the face for her upcoming product and frankly, needed (Y/N) at the studio.

"Couldn't pick a better fuckin' time?!", Velvette yelled at her phone, the contact name being Dollface since (Y/N) was a quiet, obedient (to the point it was boring) — they let Velvette manhandle them, making them pose as if they were an articulated doll.

"Sorry", (Y/N) voice was raspy, clearly struggling to talk. Although a part of them was feeling excited (aroused), a twisted enjoyment upon being scolded in their weakest moment. Hot, fucking hot, getting Velvette's whole attention on them even if it was to get scolded. Shit. If they weren't already trembling from the fever, they'd be trembling with excitement. "I ah, tomorrow... I'll try to be there tomorrow".

"No", Velvette said, short and simple. "I'll drop by your place to give you some meds, did you even eat today?", a silence, the overlord groaned in annoyance. "(Y/N), doll, I need you to be healthy and pretty, not pretty and looking fuckin' sick, you think I need you to look like you died again? Fuck no".

Normally, Velvette would use the emergency contact or someone else instead of going herself but (Y/N) hadn't ever given a contact, only their adress.

Well, she could spare some time to make sure the face of her newest product was fine.

NOW.

Unlocking the door with a key (Y/N) had provided long ago, Velvette made her way inside. The place lacked personality, it was stylish but it was spotless as if no one was even living here. The overlord sighed, a small paperbag in her hands as she called for (Y/N) and followed the sounds of misery (poor model was puking).

But Velvette hadn't expected to walk into a room with dim lights that showed a shrine with her face plastered all over the place.

"The fuck is this?", her voice barely above a whisper as a reflex to take out her phone and take pictures yet she didn't upload it anywhere. This was some sort of... evidence, for what? She didn't know yet.

"Wait! Hngh, I ah, I can explain...", (Y/N) opened the door of the bathroom of their room, they looked miserable. Sweaty, drooling, unfocused eyes, shivering...

"You do need some explaining to do".

A reaction of... amusement. Curiosity. Disgust but not exactly showing signs of being repulsed.

Now this was entertainment.

[trampstampbrbie]

The Right to Serve

'A tale in which Bucky Barnes was the best service top you could ever ask for.'

dom!fem x sub!bucky (4.6k words) tags: bdsm, one shot, minors dni, blindfolds, praise, training summary: as a professional dom, you never thought you'd have to work this hard to train a sub. but he was new and, oh, he was so delicious when he begged nice...

masterlist

You told him to kneel for you. You told him to get on his pathetic knees and crawl towards you on all fours, like some filthy mutt.

It must’ve been his first time; his cheeks were too red and it seemed there was no way in hell that he’d make eye contact with you any time soon. The other men you’ve had were all good; shiny eyes and eager souls. They were obedient without lip, without guidance, and without embarrassment.

Bucky on the other hand, was going to need a bit of work.

You should’ve known from his profile that he was new to it all, this lifestyle. His bio was weird, like someone’s grandpa was typing for them; perfect grammar, but strange wording and a lack of any sort of emoticons. He seemed from a different time. Weird, but you sure did love the way he looked; long hair tied into a loose ponytail with a tight shirt and some low pants. You were hungry to break him in.

“You ever take orders from a woman before?” you asked, bare against the leather armchair in your study, watching him move towards you.

“No,” he mumbled, stopping at your parted ankles.

“Oh? No, what?” you coo, frowning and trying to glimpse at him through low lashes.

“No… miss.”

You watched as he awkwardly knelt, gloved fingers fumbling through one another.

That was his one and only request of you: that he kept his shirt and gloves on. It was okay with you. Some of your clients had their icks and quirks and you were more than open with making them comfortable in this environment. However, there was a selfish part of you that so badly wanted to know what lay underneath; the curves and bulges were clear to see through the material of Bucky’s clothes. He was huge.

You had an agreement that this first meeting wouldn’t be as intense, just something to introduce him to the sort of mindset he should have, and to see what you both liked. He mentioned that he enjoyed giving head.

It was obvious, too. From the minute you peeled yourself from the dress you were once wearing, his icy gaze had been eagerly glancing at your mound from time to time. You chuckled, seeing him do it once more up close, licking his lips.

“You want a taste?” you grinned and watched him somehow flush deeper. He nodded.

Not much of a talker.

His mouth twitched while lowering his head, and before he could even get started, your palm slid along his forehead to yank back that smug look at the roots.

Teeth slightly gritted, you sat up and pulled him just the same.

“What a shit eating grin you’re wearing…” you frowned at him, “...like you deserve this–do you think you deserve to eat my pussy?”

He was groaned.

“That’s right, you don’t. And I’m letting you do it anyway, what do you say?” you let go of his hair and laid back down, shuffling your legs a bit wider for him against the leather.

“T-Thank you,” Bucky’s voice barely broke a whisper, gaze still at your lips.

“What was that?” you were quick to follow, throwing a leg over the side and revealing yourself to him further. He nearly drooled at the sight.

“Thank you, miss.”

“That’s right. Remember your manners,” you nodded and soothed the hair you had just abused.

Bucky sat up and leaned a bit into your touch, lashes fluttering and a held breath finally escaping from his chest.

Your nails began to massage his head, loosening the ponytail even more and allowing for some shorter strands to fall in front of his face. Another small, yet louder hum of appreciation left Bucky’s throat.

“Now this time, you’re going to ask permission, right?” your mocking tone didn’t pair well with how you gently stroked his jaw. Your voice was mean–bullying even, but your touch was maternal.

Bucky finally made eye contact with you and you were filled with lustful ardor.

His eyes were seaglass, framed with the longest and prettiest lashes you’d ever seen on a man. His hair was like a fresh brew of coffee; so deep and dark and soft to the touch. Your lips fell in awe at how beautiful he was. Bucky probably looked so pretty when he was riddled with tears and--

“I–I don’t” Bucky finally fumbled over his words and you lost his gaze.

“Let me help you,” You planted both feet back on the floor and leaned forward, capturing his face in both hands.Your tongue pressed against your molars to suppress a smile, finding it cute that he looked so feeble beneath you. A six-foot tall man, so small and helpless in front of your much tinier frame. You let the smile grow.

“Please let me taste that pussy, miss,” you pouted and mocked how all of your other clients would speak to you. Bucky’s throat bobbed, watching your lips with each syllable. His own pink flesh was licked over and parted.

“P-Please,” he stuttered and your mouth opened in a small sigh, nodding and encouraging him to go on.

Bucky was a mess, cheeks prickled with embarrassment, eyes glistening and threatening to shower with overwhelm. You comforted the side of his face, nodding once more.

“Please let me taste that–that pussy,” the words were a tangled mess–rough and quick and although you held the man’s head up, his lashes walled off his gaze as it returned to the carpet below.

“No, no,” you frowned in disappointment.

You could see the way his large frame tensed up while you shifted to get closer to him, both hands now anchored on his shoulders, rubbing soothing circles with your thumbs. Normally, you’d have no issue with an immediate teaching and discipline, but Bucky looked almost sad with himself. Sad that he couldn’t follow these simple commands. Pleasure and enjoyment were all you wanted as an outcome in relationships like this. He needed to relax.

“Switch spots with me, pet.”

His deep gaze flashed up to you as you stood, not gaining much more height in comparison to him on the floor. You smiled and gestured to the chair, a flat hand now at his back, giving him a gentle push.

Bucky took up much more of the leather armchair than you had. His thick thighs fell off the side and his hard shoulders completely swallowed the mahogany material. Bucky was strained within the confines of his jeans–so hard already and you had only just begun.

Your legs slipped past one another as you circled the furniture, eager yourself to just sit right on his lap.

“I want you to relax,” your tone softened, sauntering once more around Bucky.

Once you came back around to face one another, you tucked a stray piece of hair behind his ear.

Bucky watched you, as always. It was something else you noticed about him. Those eyes would pierce you and just study, like you were a piece at a museum. They were trained too, or maybe hesitant? Worried? Though he might’ve not made eye contact with you prior, he always paid close attention to your movements. Always knew where you were and what you were grabbing. Perhaps that’s why he was so tense…

“And most importantly, I want you to trust me,” you now assumed the kneeling position that Bucky was once in. Fingers splayed over his thighs, you rubbed them affectionately. He felt as hard as metal.

Bucky chewed his lip at your word and flinched at the end. It took him a second, but he finally nodded at you.

From the small coffee table to your right, there was a display of all your tools. Some plugs, vibrators, some rope and cuffs. A pink, satin ribbon is what you picked from the lot. You reassured him that you wouldn’t use any of that other stuff today.

You opened his palm and let the soft material flow over his skin, letting him feel how gentle it was.

“Are you okay with me blindfolding you?”

Patterns were traced onto his thigh by you as you asked for his permission.

Bucky’s chest puffed far with a deep intake of breath, looking over the small ribbon in his lap.

“Yeah–yes. Yes, miss.”

A small, delighted hum met his words, and you squeezed the flesh of his legs in agreement.

“I can take it off at any time, okay? Do you remember the word you chose?”

Awaiting for him to recall, you rounded to the back of the armchair, hands gathering his hair off of the back of his neck. You tied his locks into a neater ponytail and let the satin sit at his collarbone.

“Winter.”

You placed an encouraging kiss to his temple from behind before pulling the ribbon up and over his eyes.

“Good,” the material was tightened into a bow at the back of his head and he gave a short nod when you asked if he was comfortable.

“Thank you, miss.”

So he was learning.

“Good boy,” you breathe and the lump in his pants shifted at your words.

The leather squeaked a bit as you attempted to straddle Bucky’s lap, but found that there’d be little to no room for you unless he pinched his knees together.

“Now I have one rule for this: no touching unless I give you permission, do you hear me?”

Bucky, now squished in the chair, arms gripping the sides, nodded eagerly.

He was quick to fix the silence–leaving a poor ‘yes miss’ mumbling its way through pink lips. His breathing had grown louder at your weight pressing on him.

You caressed his face, fingers grazing the stubble that poked from his jaw and chin. A hum left your mouth as it traced along his ear, some red lip gloss trailing in its wake.

Finally, you kissed Bucky’s skin, right where his neck met his shoulder and he was shuttering–fully taken over and whimpering and panting like the little impatient whore he was. You place one more at his jaw, then his cheek until finally–finally you lace both of your mouths together.

He tasted earthy and bitter–like he had the strongest coffee in the world right before he came here. You watched as he licked his lips once you pulled away.

“Fuck,” Bucky exhaled, bottom lip trembling.

You heard the leather of the chair crunch underneath his iron grip.

Lost in your own pleasure, you pulled him back in for another kiss. However this time, your tongue peeked out, running along his bottom lip to deepen the kiss. Naturally, your hips grinded down into him.

But before you let him get too comfortable and knowing, you stepped back, away from him. His chest jumped with a stuttered breath.

You stood there and watched him for a moment, strained against his pants and sweating through his shirt. His fingers twitched and shifted over the arms of the chair, waiting with something stuck in his unmoving throat.

Once more, you assume the position in front of him: on your knees and in between his legs. But you didn't let him know that. You didn’t allow your hands on his thighs as a signal. You had him sit there, untouched and lost.

The noise that left him once you finally thrummed your fingers along his stiffened mound was gorgeous. It was a whine–choked and paired with a sniffle. You wondered if his eyes were all red.

The belt and button to his pants were easy enough to maneuver open, but there was a small struggle in getting him to lift his hips. They got caught on the curve of his ass.

"Take these off," you breathed and shuffled back, so he wouldn't feel where you were once he stood. And boy did he rocket up and out of that seat.

Bucky fumbled a bit with where to grab at the material, but eventually kicked off the denim.

"Good boy."

"Thank you, miss."

He was still panting and the slick between your legs had only grown and spread further down your thighs. You took a moment to swipe two fingers between your folds.

You moaned softly and Bucky's hips notably flinched upwards.

Your hands found his thighs once more–naked and covered with thick, dark hair. You raked your hands up and down them–groping his well trained muscles in awe.

"Now take your cock out," you hummed, words sounding sarcastic–like he should've known to do that.

His cheeks flushed behind the ribbon as he uttered out another, "Yes, miss.".

Bucky was more than you imagined–thick and long, red and purple all over with the most beautiful glisten of precum already running down his length.

Your mouth watered and you couldn't help the way your nails dug into his thighs, running down ratherly harshly as you let out a small pant.

Bucky's knees tried their best to knock together, but your torso just got in the way, letting your body be squeezed by his legs in the process. Fuck, he was strong.

"S-Sorry, miss," he says, taking his entire bottom lip into his mouth in embarrassment. You shushed him and soothed the skin you had just engraved.

Your hand doesn't take kindness in gripping his cock at its base–which was sticky and warm from its confines. He bucks gently against you and lets out another, beautiful whine.

One pump from your small hand sent him sliding his hips towards you, eager for more. You merely raised your other hand and whacked his cock along its head.

Bucky lets a drawled, "Fuck," at your punishment–falling back against the chair in defeat.

"You're trying to get off without my permission?" you asked, a brow raised to pair with your insinuating tone.

He frantically shakes his head.

"That's what it looked like to me," you squeeze him tightly–but briefly, enticing another whimper from him.

"I-I'm sorry, miss. I'm so sorry."

You purse your lips together, before giving the tip another quick slap–not as harsh this time.

"Don't let it happen again."

He nodded quickly at your warning words, now white knuckling the furniture he sat in.

Your hand lets up and was now gentle around him–stroking slowly and short along his length. Bucky visibly relaxes against the leather, arms falling soft along the arms of the chair. His moans become more frequent–more erotic and the color of his cock flushes along with it.

The pace quickens and your hand moves to cover his whole length, squeezing a bit more at the base and driving him to chase that light that seems to be approaching closer and closer.

Bucky results in a blubbering mess–begging and huffing words like "Oh, please," and "Yes," and your personal favorite, "Fuck you're so good,".

But once you got the indication that he was ready to cum–and so willingly, too. His tanned skin was flushed all the way up–covering the thick veins that poked through his neck, his knees were jittery and his entire person was gleaming with dew. You stopped. You stopped right when he was stuttering the way you became so familiar with, when it came to men. The frantic strokes stopped, the pressure and pleasure stopped and you completely–utterly fucked up his orgasm, tightening the hold around the base of him.

The whole length wobbled, twitched and grew even more flushed. You left him stuttering and confused, pulling back off of him completely to watch his reaction.

"W-Why? Why did you do that?"

You could've sworn he was about to pout. Bucky's chest still chased for air and his thighs quivered with an absent orgasm.

"You never asked if you could cum," you breathe–and it was a simple answer, too. He needed to learn.

"B-But I–"

"–No "but"'s. You know the rules and you know that you should have manners," both of your hands come to rest against your own legs–albeit a bit sore from kneeling for all that time.

You watched as his cock relaxed against his stomach–nearly reaching his belly button, before softening back to a relaxed state.

"Plus," you stand on shaky legs to place a hand over one of his own. "I've been waiting for far too long."

His lips part–like he had something to retaliate with, but you had your own to beat him.

"Up."

Bucky stands from the chair, with legs much weaker than they appeared. He nearly collapsed to his knees once you told him to do so–before removing his boxers (like you also had asked).

You slouched in the chair, slick pussy only a mere inches from his face. He could smell it, too. His nostrils flared and he, once more, licked his lips.

"C'mon," your hand danced to the back of his head, anchoring in at the locks–you waited to see if he'd ask. And boy, did he do it so pretty.

"Can I taste you, miss? Please?" Bucky's voice was so pathetic. So quiet and wanting, like he'd die if it didn't happen.

"Aw," you mocked him and frowned playfully at his expression. "Yes, you may," you finally gave in.

Bucky leans forward, blindly, and paused right at your lips.

"Go on," you coo, seeing his hesitation.

When his lips attach to your own, below, your eyes nearly roll out of your head. That pink mouth felt so good as it just barely–amazingly, suctioned onto your clit.

He pulled back with a small pop. The ghost of a smirk played at the corner of his mouth.

Bucky leaned forward once more, tongue moving up and down your slit, tasting all that had been wanting him from the minute he stepped into your home. Small circles and torturous strokes were pressed against your most sensitive bud–which was flinching and trembling on its own.

You wouldn't hide how good he made you feel. You wanted him to know he was doing a good job.

For a while, you retreated your gaze to the carved, wooden ceiling of your study–moaning and mewling with each lap and suck from Bucky's beautiful mouth.

You were lost; stuck in the clouds of pleasure and the endless river of wanting to just come all over Bucky's face.

His hand at your thigh is what pulled you from this dream-like trance you were in.

Yours flew down onto the back of his, smacking it.

"What did I say?" you grit, watching as his mouth fell open.

"No touching unless you give permission."

Boy, did he sound defeated, nearly letting his head fall in just the same fashion. Both of your hands soothe the one you had hit, bringing it back to your thigh. It felt just too damn good to keep his touch at bay.

"Lemme hear you ask nicely, Bucky."

"Please, miss. Can I touch you?" you found that his lips were trembling once more–pulled down and flushed a shade that nearly looked fuschia.

"You may."

And he was back again–this time, with more fervour.

Bucky's leather-bound hands were at your thighs, holding them open so gently–not pushing them any further than you had originally opened them. His mouth was hungry–kissing your soaked pussy and licking it like it was your pretty face that had done the same to him, prior. He was fucking good at it, too. He knew exactly what he was doing and never had you been brought so close to edge, so fast before.

He placed one of your legs over his shoulder as he was pressed so close against you–that his nose was buried within your folds.

You were a shaking mess against the chair, chanting his name, curses, and just the most pleasured nonsense that you could ever think of.

You looked down to see that the ribbon was coming loose. It drooped down from one eye, but you were so surprised to see that his eye was closed. He wasn't peeking.

"Bucky," you mewled, trying your best in an awkward position to grind against his lips.

Both of his arms flew around you, landing at your torso. He pulled you in closer and began his attack directly at your clit. He wanted you to cum.

For a moment, his lashes fluttered, but you were far too gone to even care if he looked at this point.

Your legs were jelly, your stomach was tense and your pussy–well, it was pulsing and clenching and wanted nothing but to turn Bucky's face into an utter mess.

When you fell, you fell into your orgasm hard. Repetitions of "fuck" and "shit" filled the air–feeling so good, that your body naturally was trying to get away from it. Your fingers dug into the chair, trying to push itself from Bucky, but he knew to keep you grounded. His grip on you hardened, slowly flattening his tongue to hold against you as you rode it out.

He pulled back with a grin that you were happy he didn't hide. Crooked, wet, and triumphant.

Despite being slightly taken from breath, you let out a small giggle and shakily cupped his cheek.

"Good… good…"

You couldn't even form any further compliment or praise, for that was the best skyrocket into an orgasm that you had in a long ass time.

It took an extra moment, but you eventually sat up and rid Bucky of his blindfold.

You met one another wanton, blushed and eager to touch one another in any way that you could.

The two of you crashed into a heated kiss, groping at one another as he slowly stood–laying you back on the chair.

"Please, please…" Bucky's hair fell into random swirls at your breast, while his sticky forehead lay at your sternum.

"...Please let me fuck you, please," he whispered it over and over again, gripping your waist so tight that it almost hurt.

You were overwhelmed, nodding and moving his hands so you could sit up to kneel on the armchair with your back facing him.

He looked at you with twinkling eyes and hesitant hands–like there was a pot of gold before him that he didn't know what to do with.

"Go on," your voice was liquid fire in his veins, causing a redness to spread over his upper half.

Between his legs, his length had grown and pulsed back to its wanting state. Red, swollen, dripping.

Wanting.

One long arm passed you, his fingers gripping the back of the chair.

"Fuck me, Bucky," you slur, arching your back and wiggling your hips.

You felt his free hand grab your hip, pressure points where his fingertips would be. The leather was hot against your skin.

And when he eased into you, you melted. He pressed his way within you and didn't stop until his hips met your ass–and to that, he squeezed the flashy mound before shortly thrusting as a test.

You were moaning and arching more, pushing back against him and wanting him as deep as he'd go.

The leather before you creaked as he began to fuck you from behind–grunting and whining like this was hurting him.

Was it?

You turned around to see his blue eyes now darkened–zeroing in on you and your figure from behind like a meal. His mouth however, bitten against his lips with cheeks so harshly red, it looked like he had been burned from the sun.

Those cheeks. They were stained and streaked with tears. Getting hard so quick after denial hurt. You knew that. And to hear how it hurt, made you moan and mewl even more.

"Yeah?" you breathe, a sly grin tugging at your lips.

"Hurts so good, doesn't it?"

He frowned and nodded slowly, picking up the pace in which his hips slapped against you.

He groaned longingly.

"Maybe I'll let you cum this time," you say and Bucky stutters.

You laugh and fuck back against his cock as he takes a second to stop.

"Don't you dare fucking stop," you pant, throwing another glance back at him before rolling your eyes in pure lust.

Bucky started again, thrusting into your hot and clenching walls–a complete and utter mess of filthy moans leaving his mouth.

His hand leaves the chair and now holds you instead, evening out the pressure at your hips.

You both roar in moans, sputters and screams of pleasure–harmonizing with how fast or slow Bucky would fuck you.

Bucky placed a foot on the chair, right next to your knee, and when you thought he couldn't rock into you any harder, or faster–he anchored into your shoulders and railed the soul from your body.

The collisions sent equally paced, hiccuping moans from you–clenching and wailing and becoming puddy, faced pressed against the back of the chair.

"Fuck, oh my god, fuck," he grunted, almost angry.

The intense heat wave coming from behind you, paired with his hips stopping against you for a brief period told you all that you needed to know.

Large, gloved hands came to grab around your neck, tilting your head all the way back to view Bucky upside down.

"You wanna cum?" you try your best to ask coherently, but the skin on skin noise was almost overbearing.

Bucky's upper lip curled up in a snarl–teeth gritted and deep growls leaving his throat, like he was fighting to breathe.

"Hm?" you smile, seeing his eyes roll and a big swallow bobbing at his throat.

"Yes-" Bucky grunts again, "Please," a few small droplets of spit sputter over your face as he speaks through his teeth.

"Please, please, please, please-"

You merely nodded your head, throwing another moan his way–completely incapable of giving him a wordy go ahead.

Bucky's hips became erratic and nearly too much stimulation for you.

Your legs were buzzing–mouth, pussy, arms, back. Everything.

You were ready for a release, too.

Just as you reached yours–choking back your screams of its arrival, Bucky pulled out of you.

Long, exhaling groans left him and you felt hotness paint your ass.

You squatted in your spot and let it jet across your back as well.

Bucky curses in the smallest of breaths, leaning forward and kissing your shoulder with a brief, "Thank you," that absolutely did not go unnoticed.

You sat there, cheek pressed against the back of your chair, still panting. A blind arm flies behind you, reaching and searching for Bucky. But he was nowhere to be found.

Just as you were able to collect yourself, you felt another damp thing touch your skin. It was a cloth. Bucky had gone and wetted a towel to clean up after himself. Something you did not expect.

"Oh, I can do that after-" you go to protest and instead, feel a soothing hand at your back.

"You take care of me so, let me take care of you." His words were husky, dark, and quiet, but the smile at his lips was kind and gentle.

"Thank you," you hum and let him finish.

The two of you settled down and caught your breath before retiring to a much more comfortable couch across the room. Bucky's eyes were studying the floor, as always.

And that's all you knew for now. And for the most part, that was your relationship with Bucky for a while–quiet, intimate and knowing without saying much. You just knew that Bucky Barnes… was the best damn service top you'd ever had.

[writtenjewels]

Horny Brain

[some PWP for Jason on his birthday]

Jason sucked in a breath, his whole body going rigid. He blinked and looked again just to make sure he hadn't imagined it. But no, the most gorgeous man he'd ever seen was just a few feet in front of him. The man was wearing a fishnet halter top held in place by straps, and black suspenders that hooked into his tight boxer-briefs. Such an outfit was pretty common in this club, but damn did it help accent every angle and curve of the man's body.

He was broad-chested, built solid and... sweet Jesus, that was chest hair curling a happy trail to his waistline. The man's legs were hairy, too, nice and thick. The boxer-briefs hugged him tight enough to assure Jason's thirsty gaze that the man's ass was just as thick.

It took every ounce of Jason's willpower to not walk over and start climbing the man like a goddamn tree. But he should probably tap the brakes a bit on his horny brain. At least get his fucking name! He took a breath and approached.

“Uh, hi.” The words came out as a breathy squeak. Enough for the man to turn at his voice.

“Hello,” he rumbled, his voice a pleasant low tone. Fuck, his face was so pretty. Slightly rounded cheeks, warm brown eyes, dark curly hair. The man smiled, his features softening. Jason started to rethink things. There was no way such an insanely hot guy was single.

“Nevermind,” Jason gulped.

“Are you sure?” The man's gaze did a slow sweep over Jason's body. He squirmed a little at the scrutiny. He had chosen a blue sleeveless shirt that showed off his abs and a pair of camo shorts. He kept on his dog tags, thinking being military might catch interest. Too bad it would've been weird to wear his hat indoors; he could've used the brim to hide right about now.

“Uh.” Why wouldn't his brain work? Maybe if he stopped staring at the man's tits and imagining faceplanting into them!

“My mistake.” The man's face fell a little and he took a step back.

“Hang on.” Jason's hand shot out and he grabbed onto one of the suspenders. “I'm Jason,” he blurted out. The man's expression shifted back into a smile.

“My name is Salim.” He wet his lips, eyes sweeping over Jason again. “Tell me, Jason,” he continued. “Are you as strong as those muscles make you look?”

There was a breathless quality to his voice. Jason recognized it and it made him swallow. He slid his hand along the suspender until he got to Salim's waist. He grabbed the man's side, nearly moaning at the feel of him. Jason lifted his hand to sink into Salim's other side. Holy shit, this man's body was perfect, just soft enough for Jason to dig his hands in.

“That strong enough for ya?”

“I...” Salim wet his lips, letting out a shaky breath. “Can you... go lower?”

“You got no idea how bad I wanna do that. But we better go find a room first.”

Jason knew that everyone came to this club for a similar reason, but what were the odds he would find the perfect guy and have that same guy be equally into him? He couldn't find a room fast enough. He slammed the door closed once they were inside and reached to sink his fingers into Salim's generous ass.

“Ah!” Salim leaned against the wall, mouth dropping open. “Y-yes, you're... very strong. A-are you going to... spread me open and... f-fuck me?”

“Jesus Christ,” Jason gulped, flushing at the words. “You're just as horny as me.” But he did like that idea. He pictured Salim on his back, his glorious body spread out, those thick legs open nice and wide...

“Jason,” Salim gasped. “Your hands... so good.”

“Cause you got such a fucking hot body,” Jason huffed back. He slid his hands around to squeeze into Salim's thighs, shaping and massaging the flesh before making his way up to the man's stomach. “How the hell are you single? You are single, right?” he checked.

“Yes.” Salim looked a little startled by the question. Then uncertainty flickered over his face. “Aren't you?”

“Yep.” He unclipped the suspenders so they wouldn't get in the way of him kneading into Salim's torso. He made it to the man's pecs, cupping one in each hand and squeezing. “Fuck! Salim...” The fishnet was sexy as hell, but it was getting in the way. Jason grunted, sliding his fingers into it. “Can I take this off?”

“Only if you take off your shirt, too.” Salim leaned in to whisper in Jason's ear. “I want to see your muscles flexing when you fuck me.”

If there was no lube or condoms in here, Jason might actually kill someone.

Once he made sure no one had to die senselessly, Jason grabbed at the halter top and nearly tore it off Salim's body. His own shirt was thrown to the floor, and then his hands were back to Salim, slipping under the waistband of those tight boxer-briefs. They were both already panting hard and eager. Jason tugged down, and nearly choked at what he revealed.

It wasn't really that much of a surprise that the man's dick was as big and thick as the rest of him. Jason might have to take it for a ride later. At the moment, he was far more interested in getting his hands on those thick thighs and spreading Salim open. He tossed his camo shorts onto the pile of clothes, then guided Salim over to the bed and pushed him down into the mattress. The man gasped, eyes fluttering.

“You like that?” Jason asked him.

“I do.” Salim reached up, sliding his hands over Jason's shoulders and down his chest. He squeezed into Jason's pecs. Jason twitched at the touch. He wasn't expecting to like being manhandled. “So firm and strong,” Salim purred. He ran his hands down lower to trace the lines of Jason's abdominal muscles. “I like fighters, warriors...”

“Soldiers?” Jason suggested.

“Are you a soldier?” Salim smirked and flicked Jason's dog tags. “I couldn't tell.”

“A smart-ass, huh?” Jason huffed, unable to hide his smile. Fuck, now this guy was funny, too? Jason had already decided to fuck him; now it felt a lot more urgent. He reached for the lube and condoms. “Why don't you give your mouth some rest?”

He sank his hands into Salim's thighs and gently pried him open. Salim let his legs go slack so Jason could open him as much as needed. Jason kept pushing more and more, Salim's face going more red the more he was spread. By the time Jason was satisfied, Salim had started to tremble.

“You good?” Jason wondered.

“It's... a little embarrassing,” Salim answered, “how turned on I am right now.”

“If it helps, my stupid horny brain has been turned on from the moment I saw you.”

“Hmm.” Salim let out a soft laugh, smiling as more red spread over his face. “That does help.”

Jason grinned back at him. He was starting to like this guy. He slicked up a finger and rubbed at Salim's opening before pushing in. He made sure to anchor one hand on Salim's thigh to keep him spread. Salim let out a hiss and tensed a little at the intrusion. Jason waited until he relaxed before pushing the finger in a little deeper.

“So how long you been comin' to this club?”

“Not long.” He twitched a little as Jason's finger pressed in to the second knuckle. “But then... what did you call it? My horny brain? It kicked in, and I decided to give this a try.”

“Remind me to thank your horny brain,” Jason said with a twinkle in his eyes. He slid his finger almost completely out before pushing in again. “Makes sense, though, why I haven't seen you around.”

“Oh?” Salim shifted, lifting his hips just a little. Jason pushed in a second finger and started working into a rhythm. The man felt nice and tight, his inner walls pulsing against Jason's digits. “So you come here often?”

“Just because I come here don't mean I cum, if you know what I mean.”

Salim let out a soft laugh. “That was a terrible joke.”

“Serves you right for bein' a smart-ass earlier.” Jason was pumping his fingers in steadily, trying to get Salim nice and loose. He dared to fold in a third finger. Salim gasped, nearly rising off the bed. “Too much?” Jason asked him.

“No.” Salim shuddered and lifted his hips. “Please, I... I want your cock... so you can go back to touching me.”

“Lemme put on a condom first.”

Fuck, he was shaking. Jason tried to keep steady so he could roll the condom on and slick up with some lube. All the while Salim lay there looking gorgeous, keeping himself spread open. Jason wrapped an arm around one thigh and bent it back as he got into position. Salim immediately hiked up the other thigh.

“Fuck,” Jason breathed. “Fuck, Salim, wanna be inside you so bad.”

“Please,” Salim answered.

Jason pushed in, Salim jerking at the sensation. Jason measured the first thrust slowly so they could get used to each other. He stopped when he was fully buried in, letting his head drop to Salim's chest. He felt the chest hair tickling his face and nuzzled into it. His hands went to Salim's hips, sinking his fingers in as he started to rock.

“Ahh!” Salim cried out under him. “Jason! Y-you feel... so good.” His hands swept along Jason's back. “Mm, so strong,” Salim purred.

“Bet you're strong, too,” Jason grunted. “You're so fuckin' built.” He squeezed, one hand moving along Salim's thigh. “You could crush my fuckin' head. Shit.” He shuddered at the thought of his head trapped between those thighs. “Oh, fuck, yeah... Like a goddamn MMA fighter or a fuckin' boxer. God, you're so fuckin' gorgeous.”

He was already starting to lose it. His hands on Salim's body, feeling the man's legs hooked around him, and his tight passage sucking Jason's cock in with every thrust. He didn't want to cum already. But fucking Salim felt so good, the man's body so responsive to Jason's touch, and those hands were moving across his back, pressing into the muscle.

“Fuck,” he cursed. “Oh, fuck, shit! Salim... Salim, I... fuck, I'm gonna...”

“Jason,” Salim panted back. “Jason, please, I... I need...”

Shit, was Salim about to cum, too? Jason got a hand between them to wrap around the man's erection. He pumped a few times, trying to match with his thrusts.

“That good, Salim? That what you need?”

“Yes,” Salim gasped, arching toward his touch. “Yes, please, Jason.”

Damn, if Salim kept saying his name like that, it might be enough. Every damn thing about this man was driving him insane. Jason lifted Salim's hips up, bending him as far back as he could, and thrust faster. Salim cried out, throwing his head back. Jason trembled; he must have hit the prostate. He kept going, stroking Salim with one hand and groping the man's body with the other.

When he came, he spilled himself out with a cry. He kept his hips and hands moving until he felt Salim's cum splash against his stomach.

“Holy shit,” Jason gasped, blinking away the spots in his vision.

“Wow,” Salim agreed dazedly.

Jason pulled out to take off the used condom. Then he flopped back on top of Salim, nuzzling into his chest. He could not get over the feel of this man's body. He would give them both time to recover, and then see if Salim wanted to go again.

This time the desire wasn't fueled by a horny brain. Jason just really, really wanted to fuck Salim.

[harlowsbby]

Obvious

“Is he still over there? talking with Y/N.” Urban and Ace looked over to where you were seated and saw some random dude talking to you.

“I mean yeah he’s still over there? is he not allowed to be talking to her or something.” Ace was confused and so was Urban. “I mean he can talk to her but she’s been acting like she’s single or some shit all night.”

Jack huffed and slouched down into the booth a bit more. “But I mean technically she’s single but she isn’t single the two of you haven’t came out publicly yet so she really can’t say anything to the man.” Ace was right Jack wasn’t ready to confirm his relationship with you yet only because everything else in his life was so public he wanted to keep his love life a secret for as long as he could.

“So if it’s an issue why don’t you just make shit public or better yet go over there and get your women.” It wasn’t that easy mainly because Jack was just now getting more recognition and Neelam and Drama didn’t want your relationship being his downfall.

“I can’t all I can do is sit here and watch her.” Ace rolled his eyes and sat next to Jack and looked over at you, he noticed how the random man was now caressing your shoulder and whispering something in your ear, you giggled nervously and moved away from his touch. “All I’m saying is if that was my women I’d definitely be running over there I wouldn’t care what anybody says.”

Maybe Ace was right Jack shouldn’t care what anybody had to say about your relationship with him, but he knew tonight wasn’t the night to start anything considering it was the party for his first ever movie role for White Men Can’t Jump, he decided to just sit back and watch you with all this jealousy and rage building up inside of him.

————————————————————————

“Is he looking over here?” Ken looked back up and noticed Jack was indeed watching the two of you, Ken has been your best friend since forever and he loved you dearly but he wasn’t into women.

It was your idea to come up with this plan to make Jack jealous so he’d come storming over to Ken and You but your plan sadly wasn’t working. “He was looking babe but now he’s just on his phone.” Rolling your eyes you huffed and drowned the shot of vodka Ken bought.

“I just don’t get it honestly.” Ken frowned, “You don’t get what baby?” You tossed your hands up in frustration. “I’m talking about Jack I hate the way he’s always saying he’s going to go public with us soon and when the time is right but you’d think if he saw a man talking to me that he’d come running over but no.”

Ken felt sorry for you but at the same time this is what you signed up for, you pouted and just scrolled through all the apps on your phone just trying to completely forget about the situation that just happened.

Ken looked around for a few minutes wondering what sort of kinda or plan he’d be able to come up with before his lips curved up into a grin. “Get up Y/N.” Looking up from your phone you gave Ken a weird look. “For what? where are we going now.”

He stood up and put his hand out waiting on you to grab it. “Do you trust me?” You were hesitant at first but nodded your head. “I trust you.. it depends on what you’re going.” You slowly spoke. “Just come on and follow my lead.”

Ken somehow managed to lead you both to the dance floor and right in the middle to where Jack had a perfect view of the two of you.

“How is dancing with me going to make him jealous?” You asked Ken, “Well I haven’t even done what I was about to do because he’s already got his eyes on us and by the redness in his face I’m pretty sure he’s pissed.”

Your eyes widened but this type or thrill of excitement shot up your legs, jealous Jack was your favorite type of Jack.

“All I’m saying is you better go out there and put an end to this right now or else you’re gonna be single for the rest of this year.” Urban joked, everyone that was sitting at the booth with Jack were now paying attention to Ken and You.

“Yeah man and by the way Y/N is laughing it looks like he might be taking her home tonight.” 2fo laughed but stopped when Jack glared his way.

“Trust me he isn’t taking anyone home especially if I have a say so.” Ace chucked. “How do you plan on doing that? You know Neelam isn’t going to let that happen.”

Jack knew he’d get shit for what he was about to do but it was either save what the two of you had or he lonely and miserable. “I’m about to go over there.”

Nemo choked on the drink that he was sipping on. “What about Neelam or Drama? You know they are going to freak out, this place is filled with the latest and newest news reporters just waiting to snap a picture.” Jack shrugged his shoulders. “At this point I don’t care anymore.”

You were so lost into the song that was playing that you completely forgot about the prank you were doing on Jack until Ken said something “Guess who’s heading over here.” Ken whispered in your ear.

“Who?” Ken grinned. “Lover boy and he doesn’t really look too thrilled.” You gulped but kept dancing with Ken until eventually you were ripped away from his grasp and placed behind Jack.

“Jack what are you doing over here.” He ignored you and glared at Ken. “What do you think you’re doing with my girl?” Ken wasn’t a fighter at all but it was funny watching him shake. “I don’t want any issues man I was just dancing with her.” Jack placed his finger on Ken’s chest. “She didn’t tell you she had a man.”

You bit your lip trying to stop the smile from forming on your face. “No I didn’t know she had a man I swear if I did I wouldn’t have tried anything.” “Whatever just leave her alone alright?” Ken nodded his head quickly and collected his things and left.

Jack turned back around and was now facing you. You smiled sweetly at him but this time he wasn’t falling for it. “So what was that all about? You’re out here dancing with random men now.”

You scoffed and removed yourself from Jack’s hold. “I don’t know why you care, I did it to make you jealous and clearly it worked.” He raised his eyebrows, “Why would you wanna make me jealous.” “To see if you actually cared about us.”

“Why wouldn’t I care about us Y/N.” You knew now wasn’t the proper time to be talking about this but you had to get this off your chest. “I just feel as if you’re embarrassed of me or something I mean I hate the way whenever we go out I’m always far in the back somewhere.”

“How about I make things official? Seeing you dancing with that guy made me realize I didn’t like keeping us a secret I’d rather the world know about us.”

“You really mean it Jack?” The hope in your eyes beamed he smiled and nodded and pulled you into him. “I mean it baby now smile for the camera.” You smiled as he took a picture of him kissing your cheek and you watched him post it and then shove his phone back into his pocket.

“So what do we do now?” You asked him. “I mean we can get out of here and go back to my place and you know do a few things that you love.” He wiggled his eyebrows making you snort. “Hmm I guess that sounds like a plan.”

He grinned and took your hand and led you out of the club. “So how much y’all wanna bet we’ll be uncles by the end of tonight?” Urban asked everyone and they all raised their hands agreeing with Urban.

Jack knew he’d be in a lot of shit later with Neelam and Drama but he didn’t care, he was completely and truly in love with you and he wanted to make that known.

[writingshushf1]

Hey! Can you do one with mick and Brazilian reader in which they meet in Rio de Janeiro because mick is there spending carnival with his friends and it gets spicy maybe smutty!! 🥵🥵

Devagarinho

Summary:  "We catch fire, we give yourself up without thinking. You kiss my neck, makes me goosebumps. Your hand all over my body, you love to lose yourself. No one does it better than you"

Rating: +18

Warnings: shameless smut, p!rn with a little bit of plot, fingering, unprotected (wrap it before you tap it!!!)

Word count: 1.6k

Note: this one- HONESTLY YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEES, SO GOOD AND HOT???

masterlist

February. Thirty-three degrees, the sun was high in the sky, a crowd of people were strolling from one side to the other, the music was blasting. Some were dancing, many were drinking and others were kissing in the corners. You were holding a glass of strawberry caipirinha, trying not to dirty the accessories you wore on your arms.

It was a different situation from other years, after you found a better job and met different people, you were invited to celebrate carnival in a more exclusive place - so much so that you got to see a lot of famous people outside the trios elétricos. Sobriety was a thing of the past, you were drunk and having a lot of fun, this time of the year was all about party after party, staying up all night watching the samba schools parade in Sapucaí and drinking until your liver asked for help.

Mick Schumacher had never been to Carnival in Brazil before. So when he was coerced by some friends into wearing only gold shorts too short for his liking, going shirtless and being smeared with glitter, he was getting weirded out. Until he got to the street and saw that people didn't give a shit, they just wanted to have fun, he let loose a bit. The German felt a hand on his shoulder and as he turned, Lewis had a smile on his face, handing him a shot of jambu cachaça.

"Drink up. It makes your lips numb." The Brit laughed softly. "And it'll help give you some spunk."

He stared at the older pilot, a little fearfully, however he turned the shot over and grimaced - it wasn't light drink, let alone to be taken like that. Meanwhile, you noticed from afar the movement with the cachaça - as you were not sober, the courage hit you and you approached the two strangers.

"Ei! Onde ‘cê conseguiu isso?” (Hey, where did you get this?)

"Sorry? We don't speak Portuguese." Lewis replied.

"Porra, okay! Hm, where did you guys get the jambu cachaça?"

When Mick looked at you, his cheeks turned red just like your costume. He clearly wasn't paying attention to the conversation as his eyes were elsewhere on your body. The costume fitted your body so well, letting your curves exposed and the deep red colour matched your skin tone.

"Schumacher!" Hamilton brought his attention back. "Show the Brazilian girl where the hooch is." He then pointed at one of his friends, slapping him twice on the shoulder. "Good carnival." The Brit cracked a sneaky smile and walked away from the two of you.

"Uhm... So, it's there, come on." He took your hand and pulled you in, as you signalled to your friend that he was a tremendous hottie.

"How am I supposed to know if I should trust you?"

"Because I've had one shot, so if something happens, it happens to me too. Besides the numbness on my lips and my name is Mick."

"You've never had jambu cachaça before, have you?" You also said your name to him.

"No. It was the first time and wow. First time at carnaval too."

"Losing your carnival virginity, how cute."

"It's obvious, isn't it?"

"Yeah. It's pretty cute, though."

"Really?" He cracked a smile, taking the shot for you. Without even waiting, you turned the small glass over and let the liquid burn in your throat. "I'd like to have another one, but I don't know if that's a good idea."

"You don't need to have another one, Schumacher." You said his last name in a Brazilian Portuguese accent before holding his face and bringing your face closer against his. "May I?"

He didn't answer, just let his lips join yours, starting a hot kiss. Your tongue quickly went to meet his as your free hand landed on his glitter filled chest, cracking a smile in between as you felt his teeth tugging on your bottom lip lightly. His hands indiscreetly went to your thighs, pulling your body against his. When air was needed, you chuckled softly, running kisses down his jaw, smearing the red lipstick you were wearing on his lips. His silly grin was one of the cutest things you'd ever seen.

"Well Lewis said you guys were really good kissers."

"So does that mean you want a replay, gringo?"

"Hey!"

"Come on, just a nickname, blondie."

"If you kiss me again, I might be able to let it go."

What no one had warned Mick - which you knew all too well, was that jambu cachaça was an aphrodisiac.

A few hours later you were inside an uber, heading to the mansion he was spending with his friends - in the Leblon neighbourhood. You held your chin up so it wouldn't fall off when you saw the beautiful house inside a chic condominium. As soon as you entered, he pressed your body against the door.

"No one's home?" You asked.

"All enjoying the carnival. We're going against the flow."

You watched the pool from afar, holding his hand and pulling him to the back of the house. When you got there, you removed your shoes and other accessories, throwing yourself against the water. Then you felt that he was also in the pool. Mick came close to you, pulling your legs around his waist, pressing your back against the pool wall.

"Gostoso."

"What?"

"It means you're a hottie."

"Well... You're... Gostosa? That’s how you say it?”

“Yeah, gostosa.”

You passed your thumb against his chin, smiling and leaving small kisses around his jaw and ear. He closed his eyes, groaning at the feeling of your wet lips against his feverish skin.

“I need you so bad…” He murmured, holding your body closer and getting into the steps of the pool, going out with you still holding his body.

Mick laid you in a sunbed, letting his hands roam your body while you watched with a mischievous smile plastered on your face. Maybe it was the alcohol, but the heat wasn’t bothering you at all, the only thing you wanted was him inside of you.

He started a rough kiss, grabbing your hips and colliding against his - in reaction, you grabbed his shoulders, pulling so that your chest was pressed into his. Slowly, your bodies were grinding and you could feel his hardness, so big and thick it made you wet just from the thought. 

“Can I?” The blonde was holding your trousers and you made a positive signal, so he pulled them down.

His fingers travelled your body for a few seconds until they found its place: against your clit. They were a bit calloused, but gently torturing - and he knew it, going slow on your sensitive bud was the best teasing. You moaned, closing your eyes and panting for more, so he put his index finger inside of you, pumping in and out while his thumb made quicker movements on top of your clit.

“Meu Deus, Mick…” Your hand went towards his shorts, groping his erection through the fabric. (Oh God, Mick…)

“What do you want, baby?” He quickened his pace and you let whimpers escape your lips, knowing you’re close.

“Tu.” (You)

“You already have me.”

“Inside of me.”

“Already inside.” The curved tip of his fingers were getting into your G point, which was overwhelming at its best.

“Fucking… Me… With…” You couldn’t finish the phrase, letting moans through your lips while you had your orgasm.

You were recovering from your high and he had the biggest drunk smile, getting naked and taking your top out. Mick bit his lip when he saw your breasts, lowering his head to kiss you, however he kept going down until his lips were against one of your nipples, giving the attention it needed while the other was being pinched - and he didn’t forget to invert the situation, because both of them deserved the same attention. 

Schumacher let you sit on his lap, straddling him, holding your hips and slowly lowering your body for him to be inside of you. He was big so you grabbed his back, hiding your head into the crook of his neck. The German saw your reaction, stopping moving and making you look at him.

“Move only and if you feel comfortable, okay?”

“Okay.”

Then he started a hot and slow kiss, taking the time with you, letting your tongues move together, enjoying the moment between you two. After a few minutes with your body getting used to his size, you looked at him, starting to move your hips against his.

The pace was calm, letting you feel him properly - it felt like your body was going to split from his size. He couldn’t hold his moans, you were so tight and small around him, it made the blonde even hornier.

Gradually, the pace was getting quicker because you were getting more used to it, so he understood as a green sign for him to move his body against yours - fast and rough, that’s when your moans couldn’t be stopped, it was such a pleasurable moment. When his hand lowered to your clit, you knew that you wouldn’t be able to resist for too long, the mix of feeling filled up by his dick and hitting the good spots, besides the good pressure on top of your sensitive bud. 

Schumacher also wouldn’t be able to keep going for much longer, with a fast pace, the tightness, your body moving against him to give even more pleasure and the kisses you started to distribute around his neck. He was groaning and becoming a mess just like you already wore, so his thrusts were messier and deeper, causing you to whimper. 

“I’m… Going to…”

“Okay, okay…”

He came inside of you, holding your body against him with one hand while the free one made sure you were going to have pleasure - and you sure did it, after feeling him filling you up, you moaned loud and he kept moving, bringing you to orgasm.

[thesimulationswarm]

Double Shot, Part 3

Joel Miller x f!reader x Tommy Miller

Pairing: pre-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!AFAB!reader x Tommy Miller Rating: explicit, 18+ MDNI Summary: A gorgeous man walks into your coffee shop and introduces himself as Tommy Miller. Then his equally gorgeous brother shows up. You can't decide which you like better... but maybe you don't have to. A/N: This will be in four parts, building up to the smut. Hopefully released daily. It's dumb filthy shit I couldn't get out of my head, okay? Then I'll be back to my ongoing serious series. Word count: 2k warnings/tags: drinking, dancing, insecure!Joel followed by dom!Joel, threesome, shameless flirting, sibling rivalry, pwp

This is Part 3 of Double Shot; here are Part 1, Part 2, and Part 4.

Your thigh was pressed tight against Joel’s. It was tantalizing, nearly naked below the hem of your very short dress, rubbing on the denim of his jeans. He would’ve loved to slide his hand along that silky expanse of skin.

But he was sitting in the passenger side of the cab of Tommy’s truck, and your other thigh was pressed just as tightly against Tommy’s.

And the whole situation was fucking weird.

He clearly hadn’t thought things through very carefully when he’d invited himself along on this night out. At the time, his first priority had been screwing with Tommy, throwing him off his game— which he had been quite successful at, he had to say.

His second priority had been getting you into his arms, preferably during a slow song when he could hold you close against his body.

It was only after you’d said yes and he was driving home with an apoplectic Tommy that he started to wonder what the fuck they were doing. Had you really thought this was a neighborly get-together? And how the hell would this three-legged date play out?

He knew it would’ve been a kinder thing if either Tommy or he had brought a date. It would’ve balanced things out, given you a woman to talk to and probably set you at ease. But he damn sure wasn’t going to give in and ask someone else along, and Tommy wasn’t about to either. So here they were, two guys on a date with one girl.

“I can’t believe you’ve never been to the Broken Spoke.” Tommy shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips as he spun the steering wheel lightly. “It’s a bonafide Austin institution.”

You laughed lightly. “I know, I know. I guess I’ve never really been a country kind of gal. But maybe I just needed the right guide.” You turned to look at Tommy as you spoke, your voice husky and playful.

Joel worked his jaw back and forth. He was only too aware of the effect his little brother could have on women. All boyish, easygoing charm. The kind of guy you wanted to just have fun with. And he’d been laying it on thick tonight, goddamnit.

He knew he was being unfair, but he couldn’t help himself— he wanted Tommy to back the fuck off. His brother had no real responsibilities, nothing holding him down. He had every night of the week to hit the town, get plastered, and pick up some pretty young thing. And he did. He didn’t need this the way Joel did.

How long had it been since he’d gotten laid? Too fucking long, he knew that. When you needed to hire a babysitter for every hook-up, sometimes it just didn’t seem worth the trouble.

He knew he should try and jump into the conversation, steer things his way. But he couldn’t bring himself to. He stayed silent, brooding. Watching you smile at Tommy. Watching your beautiful thighs bouncing between the two of them as Tommy took the curves a little too fast.

He was fucking pissed off.

But he was afraid it wasn’t stopping him from getting hard right now. If anything, it was making it worse. He looked out the window, took some deep breaths, and willed his body to behave itself. Last thing he needed was for you to notice the growing bulge in his jeans— or worse, for Tommy to notice.

When Tommy pulled into the parking lot, Joel jumped out of the door and held out a hand to help you down. He was secretly pleased when your high heels wobbled on the crushed granite and you had to grab his arm for balance.

You paused a second, standing with him, and he paused, too. He allowed himself a quick glance, up and down your figure. You were a vision there in the hot Texas night, lit up by sodium lights and red neon, in that slinky little nothing of a dress.

He wanted to strip it off you right there, back you against the truck and tell you exactly what he thought about all your shameless flirting.

But instead he swallowed and laid a steadying hand on the small of your back. “Y’alright there, darlin’?”

You nodded and he guided you into the building, Tommy on your heels.

Joel pushed his way up to the bar. He leaned in front an older guy in fancy cowboy boots and signaled the bartender impatiently. He knew he was probably coming off like an asshole, but he didn’t care. He needed a drink.

What the fuck was going on?

The evening had actually been going pretty good, all things considered. They’d set up at a table and Tommy had fetched everybody beers, and they’d sat watching the dancers and shooting the shit. After a few drinks, Joel felt himself loosening up. Breathing easier, laughing easier. Less worried about this dumb pissing contest with Tommy.

It was strange, but he’d started to actually enjoy himself. He liked hanging out with Tommy, at least most of the time. And he liked hanging out with you, he was learning. You were telling them your best horror stories about trying to get your business off the ground— the rat infestation when you’d first moved into the place, your business partner who never showed up on time for her shifts, the good ol’ boy landlord who doubted two “little ladies” could run a shop without a man around.

Joel joined in with some crazy tales of his own from the contractor world. His story of the time a commune of nudists hired him to build a fenced-in porch had you doubled over in laughter, tears squeezing out of the corners of your eyes.

Then the music had picked up, and Tommy’d asked you for a dance. Joel had sat at the table, nursing another beer, as you whirled in and out of view. You’d warned them you had no idea what you were doing, but Tommy was a strong lead and he was handling you just fine. Joel told himself he didn’t mind, but he was counting down the minutes until he’d get his turn to twirl you around out there.

A few songs later, the two of you stumbled back to take a breather. You all had another round of drinks, and Joel’d had a nice buzz going when he’d pulled you back out on the dance floor. The first song was lively and he made you laugh as he spun you in fast circles. Then the next song was nice and slow, and he slotted you tightly into his arms at last.

Your arms reached up to drape around his neck, the brush of your skin against his electric, and he held his hands against the small of your back. You arched under his touch, closing what little space was left between the two of you and pressing your hips forward into him. Jesus, you were practically grinding on him. He looked down at you, your face flushed from the exertion and the alcohol, chest rising and falling against his.

He leaned his head toward yours, ducking to whisper into your ear. “I can’t stop looking at you, darlin.’ You’re driving me wild.” As the words registered he felt a shiver go through your body. 

“Is that right?” You murmured, voice low and sultry. You laid your head against him, resting your cheek on the soft flannel of his shirt, and he closed his eyes for a minute. He inhaled the delicious scent of your hair.

Then Joel’s eyes drifted open, and he saw something. 

You were still leaning against him, still pressing every inch of your body into his. But you were looking somewhere else, off of the dance floor to where the tables were clustered.

You were staring at Tommy, who was locking eyes with you. 

Tommy was watching you intently, one corner of his mouth curled up suggestively, practically undressing you with his eyes. And you weren’t looking away— not at all.

Joel felt his blood run cold and his body stiffen. When the song ended, he tugged you roughly to the edge of the dance floor, depositing you at the table with Tommy. If he wanted you, he could have you. 

Then he’d stalked off to the bar.

He finally got his whiskey, and threw a handful of bills down for the bartender. He’d already downed half before making it back to the table, finding it empty— you and Tommy no doubt back out dancing. Christ.

He slumped against the hard wood chair, looking down at his hands. In quick succession, he’d felt shocked, humiliated, then angry. And now the wind seemed to have gone out of him. It was what it was, he supposed— he couldn’t control who you liked. But he’d thought for sure there was something going on between him and you…

He sipped at the rest of his whiskey, eyes scanning the honky tonk. There were plenty of other pretty girls in the place tonight, although none caught his attention in quite the same way you did. Against his better judgement, he found himself searching the crowd for you again.

There you were. Dancing with Tommy, just as he’d thought. You were angled away from Joel so that he couldn’t see your face, but he could see Tommy looking down at you, that damn smirk on his face. He could see Tommy’s arms on your back, and he watched as one hand slid down along the silky fabric of your dress, until it rested across the curve of your ass. That cheeky fucking bastard.

You didn’t pull away. In fact, you gave your hips an extra little swish along with the beat, pressing your flesh harder against Tommy’s grasp.

Then you turned your head, craning your neck as though looking for something. Your eyes scanned the tables, and Joel looked up, heart in his throat. He met your eyes, as you swayed there with Tommy’s hands all over you. You looked right at him— and you winked. 

You fucking winked.

Joel felt a deep flush rising and blooming across his face, his chest. He could hear blood rushing in his ears.

He stood, setting his glass down on the table. Barely aware of what he was doing, as he strode resolutely onto the dance floor. As he walked right over to where you stood with Tommy, and laid a firm hand on his brother’s shoulder.

“We gotta problem, Tommy.”

Tommy turned his head to look at Joel, but kept his hands on you. Annoyance flickered across his face. “What’s your problem, Joel?” He snapped back.

“This slutty little thing here,” Joel growled, “was rubbin’ all over me just a few minutes ago. And then I realized, the whole time she was doing it, she’s makin’ eyes at you.” Joel stared at you, his eyes dark and flinty. “And now I see her out here, lettin’ you put your hands all over her body. And you know what she’s doin’? She’s winking at me.”

Tommy’s eyes widened as Joel’s words sunk in. His stare cut from you to Joel and back again, as you looked up at him through your eyelashes, all faux-innocence.

“You know what I think?” Joel still had one hand on Tommy; now he reached down and cupped your face with the other, tilting your jaw upward.

“What’s that, Joel?” Tommy’s voice was low and rough.

“I think you and I are gonna need to teach this naughty girl a lesson.”

A slow smile spread across Tommy’s face. “I think you’re right.” His hands, still wrapped around your body, pulled you even more tightly against him. “As a matter of fact, I think we better get this little freak outta here. Take her someplace we can really get to the bottom of this.”