#dress like romana

[sandymybeloved]

going through all the companion outfits is making me realise just how much i want a new who companion who does not dress with contemporary sensibilities at all. You have access to the TARDIS's massive wardrobe, wear something more interesting than jeans, a nice top, and the jacket you came aboard with

where are the crazy patterns, the wild combinations of colours, historical dress in the far future, clothes made out of bubble wrap, you're in a time machine, look like youre out of time

[thenotoriousscuttlecliff]

Time to clown again.

[peppermint-jade]

Thinking about him again...

(the K-9 bag from the official Doctor Who Pattern book from 1984)

[kinokoshoujoart]

the coolest kids in forgotten valley!!☆

(…it seems there may have been a stretch of time where rock and lumina were the only kids in forgotten valley…🥲)

poseref

[i-am-become-a-name]

For people who have cosplayed Narvin (penguin outfit), what fabric did you use for the white? I can’t think of anything that falls heavily enough. Want to be time war 1 boy when I meet Sophie.

[kitten4sannie]

dolce and gabbana

pairing: san x guest! reader (fem)

genre: pure smut with a tiddlywink of plot

summary: san can’t seem to get you off his mind after sitting next to you during the latest D&G showcase, so he has no choice but to get you on his dick instead.

w.c: 3.3k

warnings: some alcohol use, subby until he’s not! san, dommy mommy who folds instantly when san asserts himself! reader, both reader and san mutually go after one another despite knowing one of them is MARRIED (hoes will be hoes what can i say <3), reader’s husband is a dick ofc, misogyny (from said husband), cheating, seduction, exhibitionism, mommy/daddy kink….. (i’m weak okay,,), teasing, ITS BIG BTW AND CURVED……, only praise and pet names (omg who hacked k4s???), groping, fingering, kissing, dry humping on a couch in a very crowded room, one neck bite, san cums untouched, oral (receiving), squirting, one singular pussy slap, san puts reader into a mating press on her husband’s side of the bed just for funsies, manhandling, size kink, breeding kink, creampies (sannie cums a lotttt)

a/n: as a pudding since day 1 i am in absolute shambles thanks for asking <3 and YES im very aware i posted yesterday but the fic demons cannot be silenced!!! and just fyi i’m sure san was very grateful and absolutely brimming with excitement to be at the show!! the way i wrote him here does not reflect his actual feelings towards anything,, its just a silly fic and i wrote what i wanted lol. also i wish i could tell you how many times “dolce and gabbana that’s on my titties~” played in my head while i typed this out 😭😭 (also i did not proofread this whatsoever so forgive me if there are errors) but anyways, i hope you enjoy :33

song recs: la romana by bad bunny, rover by kai, planet goddamn by mac miller

San knew eyes would be on him. Why wouldn’t they be? He was dressed to the nines, his hair slicked back to showcase his alluring, feline-like eyes, his sharp, angular features that could give someone a fatal cut if they looked for too long, and most importantly, he was all decked out in a sleek black custom-made top that perfectly adorned his broad shoulders and chest, one that even cinched securely around his impossibly tiny waist. Of course it did. It had been custom fit and made just for his body. Even the tailor had jokingly mentioned that Michelangelo himself must’ve sculpted him to perfection in the heavens before San was born, but San wasn’t laughing. He perfected his body through his own sheer willpower and determination alone, to be the best that he could be for his own self — and if people just so happened to drool over the results of his hard work, then that was simply a perk.

Holding his hand up to shield his eyes from the many camera flashes, he continued to make his way down the walkway, offering many of the starstruck guests a courteous, though charming smile, wondering if their wandering gazes were due to his breathtaking ensemble or what was sitting just below it. The thought tickled him. It continued to amuse him throughout the afternoon, taking picture after picture with eager guests and wealthy tycoons alike, quite pleased with himself when neither man nor woman could seem to control themselves around him, their eyes always drifting downwards to look San up and down like he were next up in an auction, their mouths pressed to their champagne flutes in an effort to quell the thirst they felt, their free hands lingering just a little too long on the small of his back when they bid farewell to him.

San relished the fact that these poor starving individuals could never get a taste of him, no matter how incredibly rich or influential they were. None of them would get a bite of the forbidden fruit without permission from God.

It was then that the show started, various eye-catching models sashaying their way across the aisle to showcase the latest D&G collection, all displaying their own unique set of features and charm. All flawless and angelic in their own right, but they were almost predictable in that way — like mannequins made solely for the rich and beautiful to gawk at. San couldn’t help but look past them, only focusing on the expensive, tailor made clothes that were framing their perfect bodies. And after a while, he almost seemed to grow bored. Of what, exactly? He wasn’t sure. Maybe it was the sheer gaudiness of it all, the lack of self awareness for things that really mattered in the modern world, and the almost nauseating amount of self-sucking the rich individuals around him seemed to be fond of doing. San would’ve pondered it more when somebody near him gently patted his thigh, causing him to look down at the small manicured hand, the diamond ring around your finger glinting in the light like a warning sign.

“Are you bored like I am?” you whispered softly into his ear from beside him, giving him a quaint smile when he turned his head to face you.

San blushed, leaning slightly in your direction. “Am I that obvious?”

“No, don’t worry. None of these drones will be able to notice.” You motioned your head to the crowd around you, their phones in hand, all whispering to each other about how revolutionary the new collection was, despite it looking eerily similar to the fall one from the year before. “You could whip your cock out and no one would bat an eye.”

“Oh?” San studied your flirtatious smile, then looked down just to make sure his eyes hadn’t deceived him. Yep, the ring was still there — and it probably cost more than a starter house. Delighted by your forwardness, San took it upon himself to tease you, reaching down to slowly unbutton his slim-fitted pants. “Well, if that’s the case…”

Your cheeks turning bright red, you reached downwards to shield his crotch from view, looking up at him with wide eyes, your faces now impossibly close. “I-i was fucking with you! Don’t actually take out your dick…”

San’s sharpened eyes flitted from your gaze to your cherry red lips, letting go of his zipper to gently take your hand in his, pressing it firmly down onto his thigh. “Yet…?” he challenged huskily, wondering if you were like all the others and would yank your hand back, scoff in disgust, and pretend as if it had never happened. It was then that San felt you squeeze your warm hand into the meat of his thigh, your fingers just barely pressing into the inseam of his pants.

“You can be a good boy and wait till the after party, can’t you?” you asked in a lower, sultrier tone, pressing your lips to his cheek to leave your mark on him, your hand moving further up his thigh, only pulling away when you felt something hard press into your palm. Smiling sweetly, you leaned in again, this time allowing your lips to brush over his. “Good things come to those who wait.”

And just like that, you turned forward to focus on the models all gathering onto the stage at once along with the designers, clapping along with the rest of the crowd when they all took a bow. You blew a kiss to one of the designers who caught it and pretended to put it in his pocket.

Still breathless from your short encounter, San nudged your thigh with his own, biting into his lip and tasting the sweetness of your lipstick. You nudged him back, glancing at him through the corner of yours eyes, licking at your own lips, like a predator would before pouncing on their prey.

San couldn’t believe he had finally met someone like you. There was a serpent in his garden — and he couldn’t wait for it to swallow him up.

-

The after party was predictable as always — strangers binge drinking and snorting powder off of your previously pristine marble tabletops, others telling embellished stories about their latest trip to their private islands to various locked-in acquaintances, some off doing god knows what in your many empty guest rooms, and you could not, for the life of you, care about what your husband was currently cackling over with his close friends, focusing on the crackling wood sitting inside the fireplace you were all huddled near. When you inevitably ran out of champagne, you patted your husband’s leg so that he could remove his arm from your waist.

He looked down at you with indifference. “What is it?”

“I need more champagne, honey. I’m going to get some.”

Your husband’s face scrunched up. “Haven’t you had enough? If you drink anymore, you’re going to lose your nice figure.” He looked to his friends for validation who simply nodded along in agreement.

Your husband’s chauvinistic comments didn’t bother you anymore, just his persistent presence in your life. He was like a mosquito that was always trying to drain you, one that you could never seem to swat away. Well, nothing a little dick couldn’t fix. “That’s funny, because I seem to recall the tailor coming in this morning for an emergency visit to alter a certain suit,” you mentioned, this time pushing your husband’s arm away from you, surveying his now quiet friends with an unbothered look, before wandering off, not registering the insecurity driven ramblings that your husband was sending your way.

Once you made your way into the crowded loft, you searched your surroundings for what you were looking for, humming at the sight of the pretty boy from earlier sitting on the large plush couch in the corner, a half-empty champagne flute in hand, his attention on one of the models that had walked for your husband’s collection a few hours earlier. He was even more handsome now that you could study his captivating details, your eyes drifting over his bulky frame, from his large arms and shoulders, to his delicate waist, and down to his spread thighs, zeroing in on what was between them, knowing that the beautiful stranger was blessed in more ways than one based off what you had felt earlier.

Without hesitation, you slowly made your way across the room, your stiletto heels digging into the fur carpet below with each concentrated step, licking your red lips when the model placed one of her hands on San’s thighs and squeezed it, his suddenly submissive expression causing more knots to form within your core. You were going to make him yours.

San could barely hear the pretty model’s words over the loud music and the many overlapping voices inside the loft, not knowing what to say when she moved closer to him, clearly going in for the kill. It was then that someone stood over him, their heel nudging into his loafer. He looked up, his once hazy eyes opening wide at the sight of you standing above him with a bottle of champagne in one hand, your other hand already cradling his face. “M-miss…there you are…”

“Here I am,” you purred, running your fingers along his jaw, satisfied with the fact that your lipstick print was still visible on his tan skin.

San gulped, just about spilling the drink he was still holding onto, unknowingly spreading his thighs open further, as if he was giving you an unspoken invitation to climb onto his lap.

Humming, you lowered yourself into his lap, your plush thighs and ass pressing snuggly against his lower half. “Look at you,” you cooed softly into San’s ear, not caring to give the now fuming model any attention, lowering the cold champagne bottle in between your bodies, chuckling at the soft whimper he let out when it pressed into the exposed sections of his skin. “You’re such a good boy, saving a seat for Mommy like this. Aren’t you, baby?”

“Y-yes, I am, s-so good for you…”

“Then, be good and open your mouth,” you purred, lifting the almost empty bottle and pouring some into your mouth. San’s jaw slowly dropped, not knowing that he was already beginning to drool. You didn’t mind, clutching the sides of his heated face and pressing your parted lips onto his, transferring the sparkling alcohol to him, but not without running your tongue over his.

San brought his hands up near the sides of your ass, his fingers trembling, not knowing if he was allowed to touch you, whimpering into your mouth when you sucked the alcohol off of his tongue.

“You can touch, baby.” You reached for his wrists and brought his hands underneath the hem of your short dress, gasping when he squeezed the softness of your ass in between his ringed fingers and began to slowly guide your hips, your clothed cunt rubbing back and forth over his stiffening cock. “Mm, someone’s eager, hm? You’re a naughty one, making the main designer’s wife grind on your cock like this in front of everyone.”

“It’s…Mommy’s fault…” San murmured near your ear, rolling his own hips up into yours, making you feel every inch of his trapped throbbing cock each time he ground himself into you, biting into his lip at the sound of your breathless moans, swearing he saw your grimacing husband from over your shoulder.

“My fault, huh? Mommy should make up for it, shouldn’t she?” you sighed back onto his heated skin, pressing kiss after kiss onto his collarbones, dragging your tongue along the constellation of freckles he had on his neck, making him shudder underneath you.

“Uh-huh…” San moaned out, your hand suddenly squeezing into and sliding back and forth over his erection, your thumb repeatedly rubbing over the pronounced tip, knowing he was staining his expensive pants with sticky pre-cum. “F-fuck, I’ll cum if you keep doing that…”

“So sensitive, baby, you’re so cute…but you’re not the only one, you know? Look what you did to Mommy~” You gave his balls a gentle squeeze just to hear him whimper, before letting go, instead reaching for his hand again and leading it between your legs, moving your soaked panties to the side just in time for San to fill you up with two thick fingers.

“You’re so wet…” San groaned, unable to keep himself from adding another digit inside your slick hole, beginning to pump them in and out of you, allowing the both of you to listen to the obscene squelching sounds your cunt made each time he finger-fucked you. Something switched inside of San when you began to whine and whimper, and fuck yourself back on his fingers, your eyebrows screwed upwards, begging him for more with your teary, half-closed eyes. “So fucking wet just for me, huh? Hey, Miss, did you know your husband is standing just across the room? Think he’s hard knowing I just got his pretty little wife wetter than she’s been in her entire life?”

“B-baby, don’t tease me like that,” you whispered, not wanting the control you had over him to slip out of your grasp, grabbing onto his shoulders, accidentally causing pieces of his solid outfit to fall off and land onto the leather couch.

“It’s San, Miss, but you can call me Sannie if you wanna be a good girl for me,” he chuckled, shoving his fingers into you up to the knuckles, rolling your clit around underneath his heavy thumb. “And, I’m not teasing you, my love, he’s really watching us, and he looks like he wants to kill me.”

Just as you looked behind you to catch your husband’s displeased gaze, San began to ram his soaked digits into your spasming cunt, feeling his lips, tongue, and teeth on your neck. “O-oh my god, Sannie, oh, fuckkkk…”

Just as your warm arousal began to pour out onto his fingers and lap, San bit down into the area where your neck and collarbone connected, letting out a few stunted groans, his hips jolting up into yours, coating the insides of his designer pants with white.

“Did you just…?” you began, before San stuffed his fingers into your mouth, growing quiet and sucking your arousal off of them. He pulled them out with a pop, but you didn’t even get the chance to continue your question because you were suddenly being lifted up into the air, strong hands clutching your thighs, your legs hooked around San’s waist.

Your defeated, emasculated husband was just a blur when San carried you through the crowded room and up the stairs, not stopping until he got to the largest room at the end of the expansive hallway.

“Which side does your husband sleep on?” San asked, once he stood at the foot of the kingsized bed.

“On the right. Why do you–O-oh,” you gasped as he quickly laid you out on the right side of the bed and lifted your dress up, forcefully spreading your thighs open so that he could bury his face in your cunt, repeatedly lapping at your slit and clit over your soaked panties until he couldn’t take it, reaching up to tear your panties off with ease. “Sannie, baby boy, what’s gotten into you?”

San looked up at you with dark, dilated eyes, reaching up to his broad body to rip off the rest of his outfit, his solid muscles flexing as he closed his fingers around your waist, yanking you lower so that your cunt was closer to his face, looking like he was about to eat you alive. “Daddy’s hungry,” he simply replied, diving back into your cunt to lick and slurp up your juices, tonguing your hole just to feel you clench around him, his nose nudging your clit as he ate you out like a starved man.

Sooner or later, you began to shudder and pant, tugging at the ends of San’s sweaty hair, your thighs pressing into the sides of his head until he forcefully held them down, quickly moving his head up and down as he dragged his tongue roughly over your throbbing clit, his focused eyes never leaving yours. “S-sannie, I’m really, fuck– I’m gonna cum…!”

“Cum for Daddy,” he demanded gruffly, stuffing three fingers into your cunt and pounding them into your g-spot, lifting your ass up with his other hand so that he could catch the stream of arousal that suddenly squirted out of you, some of it inevitably soaking into the satin sheets below you. San licked your juices from his lips, going down to give your puffy cunt one last lick to savor your taste, before standing up from the bed and unbuckling his pants.

“Y-you….Did you get possessed by a demon?” you asked half-jokingly, unable to keep your thighs from trembling, wiping the sweat from your forehead with the back of your wrist.

“And if I did? You’d still let me fuck you, wouldn’t you?” San smiled devilishly, his dimples appearing, kicking off his pants and running his closed hand along his curved, dripping length. He pressed his thighs against the side of the bed, running the tip of his cock over your lips, watching fondly as you sucked and licked the beads of pre-cum that leaked from the slit.

“I would.” Lifting yourself up so that you could completely rid yourself of your disheveled dress, you reached up for the handsome stranger, licking the saltiness from your lips. “Now, come here and show Mommy just how much Daddy wants her.”

San wasted no time climbing back onto the bed and folding you up into a mating press, leaning back to send a few wads of spit onto your cunt, smacking his hand against the wetness for good measure, before he plunged himself deep inside you.

You just about screamed, not ready for San’s unusual size and shape, the curve of his cock rubbing deliciously along your tightening walls each time he pounded himself into you. “S–ann–ie…! It’s so big, fuck– so good!”

“Aww, poor baby’s never had a big cock stretching out her pretty pussy before, huh?” San cooed into your ear, pulling all the way out, just to slam himself back in, hitting your g-spot dead on, making you cry out deliriously. “You’ll never be able to go back to your husband after this. You’re gonna be begging for me to take care of you from now on….” San pressed his lips against yours, sucking on your tongue as you moaned out for him. “Want you to cum for me again, baby…Squirt on my cock, okay?”

“S-Sannie, it’s too much,” you whined out, dragging your nails down his broad back, your toes curling just as San punched your next orgasm out of you when his curved cock once again came in contact with your g-spot.

As you began to cry from the overwhelming pleasure, San licked your tears away, gently pressing his lips into your cheek and jaw, shushing you. “Don’t worry, baby. Daddy’s here for you.” He clutched you close, holding still inside you, as his cock began to twitch. “Here it comes, princess, just for you.” A hot, creamy stream of cum began to shoot out into you, completely drenching your insides with his load.

You could hardly speak at this point in time, solely concentrated on the pleasure that still had a hold on your sore body and the warmth that was filling you up to the brim, suddenly realizing that your husband really wasn’t going to be happy with you. “Y-you shouldn’t have…nnnngh….”

San continued to roll his hips into you, his eyelids fluttering, groans spilling from his throat, your cunt still milking his pulsing cock for all it had, which was a lot, to say the least. Once there was nothing left to give you, San leaned down, pressing one last kiss to your lips, not caring that you had left your lipstick all over him. “Can I ask you something, baby?”

“Y-yes, San?”

San smiled, his glossy brown eyes glistening in the light. “When you have my baby, will you have the heart to tell your poor husband that it’s actually mine?”

Panting heavily and trying to process what the handsome stranger just said, you finally came to the realization that you let someone who didn’t even know your name possibly impregnate you. Well, at least you had something to talk about over breakfast with your husband, rather than hear him go on and on about his latest collection.

“I’m not sure about that one…”

“Can I ask you one more question?”

“Hm?”

“Should I name our baby Dolce or Gabbana?”

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

© kitten4sannie, 2024.

[gaia-mix-nicolosi]

It is’nt going to be Tennant in the special

It’s going to be Ncuti in Tennant prostethics. 

This way you can do stuff like Leo Flanagan in John Woodnutt prostethics, the Master as he took Seron’s body.

[romanarose]

First and Last

Logan Howlett x fem!Reader x Wade Wilson

Join my taglist : Masterlist

Buy Me A Coffee : Kofi : Go Fund Me

Summery: You are inexperienced outside of Logan, so he lets you get fucked by his fwend!!!

Warnings: Threesome, mfm threesome, m/m dynamics here and there, Wade is menace. PIV sex, sharing reader, blowjob, balls <3, protective Logan, lots of explicit consent, oral f and m, cumming in pants too soon. Bisexuality <3 Similar themes as Awakening with Triple Frontier <3

Immersivity: Reader is fem, afab, dresses in dresses, has hair.

A/N: I'm so excited for this!!!! First Wade Wilson fic? So excited!!! I've been writing some logan mostly at my dark account @romana-after-dark. I hope I did okay!!!

Sorry for the repost, this wasn't showing up in the tags at all??? So I'll retag those who rebloged my first one that i remember. Im so sorry to those I didn't remember!!!

You were a virgin when you met Logan.

That didn’t last long.

Sure, Logan took his time, not taking your first kiss and virginity at the same time, but you were as desperate for him as he was for you. You loved your Wolverine. Your sweet, cuddly bear of a man who protected you with a ferocity you’d never seen before and loved you with a tenderness you’ve never felt. 

Still, some days you wondered…

Logan brought it up first. You certainly weren’t going to suggest sleeping with someone else, absolutely not. You loved, loved, loved your boyfriend and he never once left you sexually lacking. Logan learned everything your body liked, everything it didn’t, and brought you pleasure and comfort in one go. It was just that natural bit of curiosity in you that occasionally it flittered across you mind. Not that you thought anyone could be better than Logan; no one could. Even with a bigger cock or someone more eager tongue, the love you shared would always elevate sex. Still, it was more what other people felt like.

“Do you ever wonder what it’s like, having sex with other people?” Logan waited until after sex, when the room was filled with emotional intimacy, but after he cleaned you up. He ever put you in his green flannel. He always put clothes on you before talking about anything serious, and one day you asked him why. He said he wants an even playing field, and at first you think your tits are distracting, but then he continues. He doesn’t want you to feel vulnerable or emotionally naked when you talk.

Heat creeps up your neck. You don’t want to hurt his feelings, but you remain honest. “Sometimes it crosses my mind I guess… But really, not something I like, sit and ponder about. I promise.”

“Hm.” He grunts, playing with your hair and looking at your lips, and for a moment you think he didn’t like that answer. Then he adds. “Have you ever thought about Wade?”

That’s how you got here. After some gentle coaxing, you say no, you never thought about Logan’s friend sexually. You asked if he ever thought about Wade sexually, and he just smirked. ‘Thought about him with you.’

Now you were sat on Logan’s lap on the bed, Wade standing against the wall just watching as Logan explores your body.

“Prettiest fuck’n tits you ever seen…”

Wade has a big grin plastered across his face. ”So you keep saying.” He says with a little laughter, hand fidgeting near his crotch but not touching yet. Not until Logan gives him permission. “And yet, they are like Hugh Jackman in my first two movies.”

You don’t know what he’s talking about half the time.

Logan gives a tit a squeeze, and you stifle a whimper. “Need her to get comfortable, first.” Logan turns into your neck, and you can feel his facial hair tickling your skin. A warm reminder that you are safe, loved and protected. “You nervous, pumpkin?” He coos into the crop of your neck, and you nod shyly. “Do you wanna stop?” You quickly shake your head.

Wade speaks now, more sincere than you are used to from him but still that playful tone. “You sure about that?” He holds up his hand, palm out, and wiggles his fingers. “Nothing tighter than my right hand.”

This made you smile, and Logan continued to touch you. He hooks your legs over his knees, spreading his own legs wide and letting Wade get a good look up your skirt at the cute panties you picked out just for him.

Wade whistles, his cock clearly tenting in his sweats. “C’mon Logan, you’re fucking with me here. I did not consent to edging, we’d have to negotiate that contract.”

A low rumble against your back and Logan chuckles. “Go ahead and touch yourself, dumbass.” As Wade quickly goes to palm at himself, groaning obscenely loud, and Logan responds by dragging his fingers over your clothes clit and tickles the soaked material. 

“Mmmmm” You sign happily at the contact, but stifled from the noises Logan has pulled out of you again and again and again. “Still feeling shy?” He murmurs against your skin, even as he delivers a small slap to your pussy.

You jolt. “M’ sorry”

“Don’t be sorry, just tell me what you want to do. Cards are in your hands.”

And they were. You look at Wade touching himself, heat growing in your stomach at the idea of him between your legs. Nothing in you says stop, no alarm bells to ignore… Wade could be balls deep inside your pussy and if you said stop, he’d stop. You knew Wade enough for that, but you also knew Logan was going to protect you. You doubted you could get to that point without Logan reading your body. No, you trusted them. “Just nerves.” You tell him finally, locking eyes with Wade for a moment before turning away. The heat was too intense, too much sexual tension in the room, the three of you’s desire for each other. You just needed to cool off. “Don’t wanna stop just… I need to relax.” You tell Logan.

Ever attentive, his hands leave your dripping core and go to your shoulders, rubbing them. In a half-whisper, he says, “Would it help if I told you his middle name was Winston?”

A beat of silence.

Then, you giggle. The air is lighter in the room, but no less attraction. You felt better.

Two large hands slide up your middle to cup your breasts. “Are you ready, sweet girl?” 

You look at Wade grinning ear to ear. You can feel Logan’s comforting presence all around you.

“Yeah, I’m ready.” 

*

Logan had taken care of the communication, and everyone was clear on rules and boundaries between the three of you. Well, yours and Logans anyway. Wade was absulty down for anything, stating “Any appendage, any hole.” He said something about toes and urethas, but Logan said something along the lines of , “shut the fuck up, she hasn’t even done anal yet, don’t scare the poor girl.”

Anal play was a no. Logan and you had definitely messed around with some finger and tongue action, but his cock hadn’t gone in yet, and you certainly weren’t letting Wade get in on that action before your loving boyfriend. As for other anal play, you just didn’t feel comfortable with a man you weren’t dating up in that. What if you farted? Well, Wade might be into that actually. Second rule was you stayed in your dress. Maybe it’s silly considering he’ll be up inside your guts, but you weren’t totally confident enough to undress in front of another man. 

Logan’s rules were very clear and simple. Firstly, your comfort comes before everything. Wade can’t lose himself. That was his rule for Wade, but he had a request for you too. 

“First and last,” He asked of you. “Your first and last orgasms belong to me, because no matter what happens here, you’re still mine. His cum might be leaking out of you, but it’s mine that’s gonna get you pregnant one day, do you understand?” 

That idea alone made your stomach do flips… but for the time being, you were on birth control.

Once you told Logan you were ready, Logan stood with you in his arms like you were weightless, turning around to gently lay you down on the bed. He ate you out slower than usual, insisting he wanted to take him time, get you to relax. Wade was suddenly leaning over where Logan knelt on the floor, hands on his shoulders and humps his still-clothed erection onto Logan’s back.

“No fingers yet? Wolvie, baby, you know better than anyone you gotta open her up or this is gonna hurt.”

“Shut the hell up.” Logan growled, then kissed your inner thigh. “She can take it, can’t you baby?”

You scrambled to get a grip on his gentle waves, trying to pull him back into your cunt. “Yes, but Lo, please don’t stop!”

“Ohhhh poor baby…” Logan teases you with a striped licked up your soaked folds. “You need me? Does my girl need me?”

Wade gives a long, slow grind against Logan’s back. “Better give her your fingers soon or I’m gonna go klablewy in my pants.”

Only half listening, Logan looks up at you through his dark lashes, Logan asks you. “That what you need? Need me to open you up, bub?”

You nod furiously, pulling him into you. Not making any effort to tell Wade to fuck off, Logan slides two thick fingers into your dripping channel, causeing you to sigh in relief and Wade to whimper, rutting against Logan like a dog. Instead of pushing him off, Logan reached behind himself and grabbed Wade’s leg, gluing them together and encouraging him on. The sight causes you to chase your high against his face and fingers.

“That’s right, take what you need, go ahead and use me… there we go, feels good doesn’t it?” You didn’t know if he was talking to you or to Wade.

When Wade begins moaning, face twisting in pleasure, Logan picks up his pace. He could feel Wade cumming against him, and seconds later you were gushing out onto his mouth. Getting two people off at once was not something he’d ever thought about, but as he felt it happening Logan couldn’t help the swell of pride in his chest.

Your body goes limp under him, sighing contently the way he loves so much, and he feels Wade braced against him still.

“You gonna be ready to go again, or is your dick as fucked as the rest of you?” Logan teases, starting to stand and only just now shoving the other man back a little.

“Ooh hoo hoo, just give me a minute, Logey boo. There are 206 bones in the human body, 207 if I’m watching you touch this sweet little thing.”

You smile up at him, happy to see him happy, happy he’s here. “Would touching me speed up the process?”

Wade practically jumps on the bed.

*

Once Wade was hard again, you were put into position, handmaid's tale style. Logan sat against the padded bedpost, legs spread, with you in between them. You rest your head on his jeans covered cock as Wade lines himself up at your entrance. He’s longer than Logan but not as thick, cut while Logan isn’t.

He was perfect, just not as perfect as your loving boyfriend. Wade pushes into you quickly, forcing a sharp breath to exhale out of you, nails digging into Logan’s hands where he holds you.

“Wade! For fucks sake, go easy on the girl!”

But you surprise Logan by begging Wade for more. “Please, please, please, give it to me, give it to me Wade.” You look up at your lover. “Logan, please tell him, tell him to fuck me?” Your hips buck, begging for friction.

Logan chuckles. “You heard my girl, Wade-o, give it to her.”

Wade fucking woops, fucking your pussy with an energy you weren’t used to. Logan was an incredible lover, stamina and tenderness, he was not lacking in energy and passion during sex, but Wade? Whole other story. Wade fucked hard and fast, hands wandering all over every inch of your body, whether exposes skin or your pretty dress. Never once did he try to push aside any clothing or show him more than comfortable, simply told you how pretty you looked in this dress. 

“Jesus, how did you find a cute little doll like this?” Wade practically giggles with glee. “This is gonna be in my wet dreams for as long as I live, which, as it happens, is a long fucking time. God, I could just live in this sweet little pussy forever. If you were mine, you’d never be able to walk straight.”

Logan, never one to be shown up by Wad’s mouth, talks right back, fingertips trailing down your front. “Why do you think we canceled on drinks last week? Had to carry her to the bath she was fucked so raw.”

“You kept it up that long, old man?” 

“‘Till she was cry’n”

 “Looks like she’s about ready to start that again.”

Tears were blurring in your eyes, the heat inside you festering into your lower stomach as Wade ravaged your core. You could feel him inside you, your body shifting and making room for him to reach deep inside you than anyone or anything had before. The way he touched your body made you feel wonderfully desired, Wade’s ADHD mind jumping from part to part, giving attention to bits of you that could never have found sex, while Logan’s careful and precise minstrations massaged those erogenous zones. There were even a few sounds Wade pulled from you touching new places that Logan took note of, making sure to know exactly what makes his girl whimper and whine. 

He’s not above learning a thing or two, even if he could make your cum untouched with just his voice. Logan knew how to make you feel adored and sexy and cum over and over again on his cock, but if there was a way to make it even better for you, he was gonna learn.

“It’s okay bub, let it out, we got you. Ooooohhh there we go, that’s my girl, crying on Wades cock like a good girl, my pretty wife letting my friend use her cute body to get his rocks off because he can’t find anyone to get his rocks off with”

“Hey now!”

Logan calling you his wife, hinting at what he had always promised you, a future together for the rest of your life.

“Logan!” You reach your hand back, and Logan takes it quickly, anchoring you. “Wade!” You pull Wade close to you, his body slimmer than Logan but covering you in comfort nonetheless. You feel his skin, mangled and beautiful and so uniquely him sliding against your sweat-slick skin, lips coming to kiss as the force of his thrusts rub your head against Logan's hard cock.

“You gonna cum, baby? Gonna cum on my dick while Logan watches? You know, generally I like to keep my cucks in a chair, but I’ll make an exception for my little peanut.” Wade boops Logan’s nose.

“Ignore him, pumpk’n” but you didn’t want to ignore Wade, not when he was making your legs shake, your climax crestinc as you whine. The hand that isn’t holding yours cradles your neck on his lap, grounding you into this bed where he’d shown you his love time and time again as you cum on his friend's cock. “That’s it, cum for me, sweet girl. Squeezing your cock so good isn’t she?”

“Like FUCKING HEAVEN!” Wade hollers in your ear, pumping his cum into your cunt against and again while you writhe in their arms, a full body orgasm having blossomed from your stomach and tingling down your toes and fingers. You’d never felt so desired, so sexy, so beautiful. 

Wade collapses on your body and you instinctively wrap your arms around him, whispering a thank you in his ear.

“Anything… for… my OTP!” Wade tries to quip between breathless wheezes, but he’s so tired he remains on your chest, eyes drooping.

Logan plays with your hair, tender touches on your face and down your neck where he caressed Wade’s head as well. You loved this, you loved them, and you especially loved your sweet Logan, the fearsome Wolverine only soft for you… and Wade Wilson, it seems. He start to get up after several minutes, still fully clothed and fully hard. Your head slides off his lap, and his hand guides in gentle down to the bed.

“I’m gonna get you guys cleaned up.”

You catch his hand, gazing up at him questioningly. “First and last, remember?” He wanted to give yoru first and last orgasm, but Logan just smiles down softly at you.

“You’re tired, bub. Let me take care of your guys.”

“I can do another!” You try to assert. This was Logan’s condition, and it’s not like you were in pain or pure exhausted. There was no reason you couldn’t do this for him.

From his place resting on your chest, Wade pipes up. “I see you’re still rocking a stiffy, gramps. I bet we could heat things up in here to the 60’s” He turns to a wall and winks. “The highest 60’s”

Logan shook his head. “Today wasn’t about me.”

But you don’t let go. “First and last. You are my first, and my last, okay?”

His soft smile grows into something more wicked.

*

You are placed on top of him, your sweet pussy dripping down onto his tongue, his thumb fucking your ass, and cock making your mouth gag. Wade, a tired wittle guy, laid down between Logan’s legs and under mouth, slobbering with Logan’s balls in his mouth. Gagging on your lover’s shaft, Wade is not put off by your saliva and Logan’s precum dripping down on him. Likewise, Logan was not bothered by swallowing down Wade’s cum. In fact, he ate you out with more vigor than he had earlier, humming contently at the taste of his friend.

Wade guided you, using your mouth like a toy to pleasure his friend. With fingers entangled in your locks he pulls your head off and pushes it back down, forcing your throat to take whatever it’s given. Still, somehow he listens to those little cues of yours and never pushes it too far. You gag and moan in delight as Logan devours your puffy pussy, your tight little ring of muscle squeezing down on his thumb. Finger nails dig into Logan’s thick thighs and he’s not sure who they belong to, you or Wade, and before he can draw it out any longer Logan is flooding your mouth with rope after rope of hot cum.

“Yeah, fuck, don’t fucking stop baby, keep gagging, want my cum spilling on Wade’s face.”

“FUCK YEAH!” Wade shouts, albeit muffled with Logans tightening balls still in his mouth. When Logan finishes pumping your mouth full, you pull off his dick and lean over Wade, mouth full. He leaves Logan and smiles, giving you permission for what you were both thinking. He opens his mouth and spit a blog of saliva and cum into his mouth, slowly letting it drip down before you encased his mouth in your, letting him lick the rest of Logan’s cum out as he watched.

*

Logan did as he promised and took care of you and Wade. The two of you were entangled yourself with each other, arms in arms, legs wrapped around waists as Logan got a warm wash of clothes and cleaned both of you up with a gentle touch you ’d never seen him give Wade, but you liked seeing it. Wade and you provided each other with that skin to skin as Logan handled the technical, praising you both.

While Logan made you and Wade drink water, he rummaged through his clothes, tossing Wade some sweats and looking at you as he pulled on boxers. “Can I take you to the bathroom so I can get you into something more comfortable?”

You consider his words for a minute. He was offering you privacy, not requiring you to undress in front of Wade nor stay in the dress. Wade mumbles something about leaving the room, but he was clearly half asleep. Thing was, you didn't feel embarrassed with Wade anymore.

“You can change me here.”

Logan smiles down at you, leaning over to press a sweet kiss to your dick-sucking-swollen lips, and grabs at the hem of your dress. Even though he’s tired, Wade helps lift up your hips, then torso, then neck with his strength and is nice and carefully laying you down again on your nice soft bed. When Logan finally joins you two, you’re surprised to find that inside of going to curl his arms around you at your side, he crawls up between you and Wade. For a second you think there’s jealousy, that he wants distance between you two and you fear he’s about to send Wade out. Spending the night was not in the plan, but neither was that intense sexual chemistry between all three of you. You didn’t love Wade, but you felt close to him. You wanted him to stay.

Instead of kicking Wade wraps his arms around both of you, pulling you close to him. He was warm, safe, strong as you laid your body down on top of his chest, Wade opting to curl in more and rest on Logan’s abs, muttering “Mmmmm my peanut” and for once Logan didn’t tell him to shut up. When Wade starts snoring, Logan continues to play with your hair as he speaks.

“Was everything okay, pumpkin? You feel good?”

“Yeah,” You confirm, nodding off to sleep in content happiness. “Are you okay that I kissed Wade? We didn’t really talk about that.”

“Don’t you worry your pretty little mind, beautiful girl. I know who you belong to.”

You kiss his left peck. “My first and last.”

I HOPE I DID OKAY!!!!!!

I love them you're honor ;-; WADE IS CANONICALLY QUEER SO DONT ERASE THATW HEN YOU WRITE HIM!!!

I love wolverine/ deadpool <3

I love my queer men

Thank you for reading! I have a/b/o Logan series coming after I finish up some Pedro Pascal fics!!!

@clawsandbullets @sunnyfranc @silversprings-mp3 @apizzacalledmel @marshmallow--3 @titanwind @sheepdogtrick3 @zooty-and-fruity @drunk-and-capable @xdaddysprincessxx

and thought @tightjeansjavi @multiversed-daydreamer and @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction may enjoy but no presure!!!!

[cuntdestroyer3000]

Godless

moodboard not meant to be a physical description of reader, just her vibes/clothes

western au! dark!outlaw!Joel Miller x f!prostitute!reader playlist part two here

My contribution to dead dove December hehehe. I love dead doves so I'm very happy to participate! @romana-after-dark

Summary: You work at a brothel that operates above a saloon in your town. Joel is the leader of a group of outlaws that come periodically to collect payment and wreak havoc. One visit, you catch Joel’s eye and he decides he has to have you.

word count: ~5.6k

DARK, dead dove: minors dni!! rough smut, prostitution, reader gets called a whore, sexual slavery, being bought/sold, angst, being owned and considered property, descriptions of men being violent with each other, Joel is possessive and very dominant, reader is very submissive, stockholm syndrome. dubcon, reader obeys but she doesn't have a choice. It's only gonna get darker from here mamas. Unprotected sex, STDs don’t exist in this universe, yeehaw. No use of y/n

A/N: Prepare for light old timey language. Yeehaw shit, in my heart I am a wild west man. Also I have no fucking idea what kind of money they used in the wild west so I just wrote gold coins lmao. Reader doesn't necessarily have a specific accent but she talks like an old timey western person, reader is just a girl in the world, god bless her. set in old west California LAWLESS LAND CALI WAS CRAZY BACK THEN BRUH

-

You tried to even your breathing as you hurriedly did your makeup, slapping your powder onto your face frantically. The other girls scurried around you, the collective energy was tense and you all shared a feeling of anxiety that was rising as the minutes ticked on.

The bar always went into a frenzy whenever Joel Miller and his men rode through town. You hadn’t been working here for that long but you’d already been here long enough for their visits. His men were animals, every girl dreaded it when they came to the brothel.

Joel and his men are shameless, getting drunk in the saloon and picking fights, riding through town and plundering all the folks living there, demanding "payments" in the form of money, food, jewelry, anything they could find that was worth taking. Payments that the people of your town made so that he would let them keep living there. He made it clear that we could wipe out the whole town if he wanted to, leaving you a people without anything. And that's if he left you all alive.

-

You hadn’t been living in the town that long. After your father died, you set off west with a man who you thought had loved you. Things had fallen out with him when you finally reached California, and he had left you all alone in this scary new world.

Luckily the people of the town had taken you in, but your shelter and safety came at a price. When you arrived, you had nowhere to live, no money, nothing.

The town brothel seemed like the only solution. You had a place to live, a job, a community. You made peace with having to let men defile you. Most of them were nice enough and your pimp took good care of all of you.

This world was cruel, you did what you needed to do to get by.

-

You adjusted your breasts where they sat in your low cut dress, pushed up by your corset. You fixed your hair and adjusted the garter on your stockings.

“Well at least we look nice.” A voice snapped you out of your deep thoughts.

You turned and tried to muster a smile for your friend, Anna-Leigh, who was pinning up her blonde curls.

She clocked your fear and reached out her hand to take yours. You couldn’t look at her because if you did you’d cry, and you couldn’t afford to smudge the black pigment you’d put on your eyelashes.

“I know you don’t want to, honey.” She said softly, “But we’ve gone through this before.” Her southern accent never failed to soothe you.

You nodded,

“Yeah.” You sniffled.

“They’re gonna do what they always do, we just gotta deal with it and then they leave.” She said firmly.

“And if they really give us trouble, Mr. Polk will put a stop to it right quick.” 

You nodded a little more confidently, remembering that your pimp, Mr. Polk kept a gun on his hip every hour of the day.

No longer able to delay the inevitable, you took a deep breath, and followed your friend and the other girls out of the vanity area and down to the saloon.

-

Walking down the stairs, you analyze the chaotic scene. You’ve managed to understand how to navigate it so as to not cause any trouble. Keep your head down, be a good girl, let them do what they want and then they leave. Your pimp paid you all extra whenever Joel's men came through. Sometimes he’d give you all new dresses, it does make you feel better but it does little to ease the aching between your legs that persists whenever he and his men visit.

You all disperse and walk among the crowd. Usually most girls will immediately go and talk a man up but now you all just stand around awkwardly, letting men approach you and take you upstairs, or just take you right down here.

You’re taken upstairs a few times by a few different men. And later on, you’re sitting in a very drunk man’s lap down in the saloon with your breasts out, smoking a cigarette. He's playing a poker game and slowly losing everything.

Your eyes scan your surroundings: men brawling, naked women bent over, their legs splayed open. The usual.

Through the clamor around you, you can feel his eyes on you.

Joel Miller.

You'd seen him before, and his cold gaze had made your skin crawl.

You knew he was dangerous and you’d heard the stories about him. You’d never talked to him, only seen him when he came by. After making his rounds through the town, he’d just sit at the bar and drink as his men ran wild. To your knowledge, he didn’t even have sex with any of the girls.

You tried to avoid his gaze but you could feel his eyes on you through the thick haze of smoke. It wasn't fair that he was so handsome, weathered from the desert sun. His soft brown hair was laced with gray, just like his short scruffy beard. He looked like could've been a man that was kind, if it wasn't for the dead stare in his eyes. Meeting his eyes you could see how cold blooded he was, how merciless.

After a while, Joel instructed his men to gather everything up. The barkeep and your pimp seemed like they couldn’t wait to get rid of them, their regulars bloodied and slumped over, the bar a mess.

You were pulling the top of your dress back over your breasts when you spotted Joel speaking to your pimp, who was looking distressed. Your stomach churned. That couldn’t be good.

You were on your way up the stairs when you heard your name being called, panic flooded your system.

You turned, frozen. Your heart was pounding as the other girls ran by you.

Anna-Leigh tugged your arm, "C'mon!"

You turned and the only thing you could do was shake your head.

"What's wrong?" She asked, confused.

Your pimp, growing impatient, walked up the stairs and grabbed your elbow, dragging you down.

"I know y'don't want to." He grumbled, "But I'm not bein' given much of'a choice."

Your feet dragged on the wood as you struggled to catch your footing. Did Joel suddenly decide he wanted to fuck you? Mr. Polk yanked you over to him.

Joel's broad form towered over you as you approached. You felt small under his gaze, you'd never been this close to him before. You took in his scent of desert dirt and sweat. His broad shoulders, hulking biceps and soft stomach stretched his stained white button down. The fringe on his cowhide jacket swayed as he took his hat off his head and ran a hand through his graying curls.

You stood looking up at him, eyes wide. He looked down at you without a hint of warmth and grabbed your arm roughly, spinning you around.

You gasped at his touch and anticipated to be bent over and have your skirt hiked up. Instead he just looked at you and turned you back to face him. He made an approving grunt and nodded his head.

"Yeah." His voice was deep and gruff, "This one."

He reached into his bag on the bar and pulled out a sack that he let fall open, gold coins falling out all over the counter.

You started to feel sick.

"Give you this for her." He said casually.

A spike of fear bolted through you.

"W-what?"

Your pimp sighed and turned to you,

"Go get y'things honey."

"What?" That felt like all you could say, "N-no."

You turned to see Anna-Leigh and the other girls staring at you. Your friend looked just as terrified as you felt. Tears freed themselves from your eyes.

"God damnit girl I said go get your fucking things." Mr. Polk yelled and gave you a shake. You looked at Joel who simply nodded his head up, as if telling you to go upstairs.

You sniffled and ran up the stairs, your sobs breaking through as you graced the landing and echoing as you flung yourself into your room.

-

You hiccuped as you threw your few belongings into a suitcase, everything blurred as you cried.

You were only able to get a few items packed before you broke down and sobbed uncontrollably.

You suddenly felt the arms of your friend wrapping around you as other girls gathered around you, all stroking and hugging you.

You blinked back tears and tried to speak but you couldn’t. They just held you as you all cried. There wasn’t really anything they could say to make things better anyway.

You gasped and shuddered, trying to catch your breath. Anna-Leigh took your face in her hands,

“It’s okay, baby, breathe.” She said, tears falling down her face as well. You shook your head and kept crying.

Your pimp appeared in the doorway, looking mournful as he held his hat in his hands.

“How dare you!” Anna-Leigh screamed at him from where she held you.

“I’m sorry.” He said, looking down, “It’s either her or they take all a’you. Destroy the bar, hell maybe even the whole town.”

You cried harder, realizing that there was truly no way out of this. If you didn’t go with Joel, you’d be damning your sisters. You let out a final anguished cry before you got up shakily and continued to pack your things. You went down to the bar which was quiet, the men all watching with bated breath.

Mr. Polk escorted you down and you walked over to Joel again, whose smirk made you nauseous. You looked down at the floor as one of his men took your bag from you.

“Alright sweetheart.” Your pimp murmured, “You be good for Mr. Miller now.”

You nodded as tears ran down your face silently.

“Move out.” Joel addressed his men.

It hit you again that you were really leaving and you started sobbing again.

“No please!” You begged your pimp, “Don’t let him take me please!”

Joel reached out and grabbed your arm,

“I ain’t got time for this girl!” He sneered and ripped you away.

“No…” you cried as he dragged you along.

Anna-Leigh ran up and hugged you one last time. Joel let her, but made an irritated noise and squeezed you painfully when she took too long.

She pulled away and grabbed your face in her hands.

“You can do this.” She said, her voice breaking, “You’re gonna be strong.”

You hiccuped and shook your head,

“Be strong ok?” She nodded at you as Joel finally wrenched you away.

“That’s enough!” He barked, “I’ve already been mighty patient with you folks. Stop fuckin’ testing me!”

Everyone stared at him, silent and full of fear.

You could only cry harder as he dragged you outside. He picked you up and set you on his horse, untying its reigns from the post. 

“Hey!” You heard a voice call out and turned on the horse to see one of your drunken regulars, stumbling towards you,

“Thas’ my favorite whore!” He slurred, “My favorite fuckin’ whore, y’can’t-“ he hiccuped and stumbled. The people of the town shuffled out of their houses to watch the action.

Joel smiled at the man coldly,

“That’s your favorite whore, huh?” He asked, standing over him. He rolled him over with the toe of his boot.

“M-my whore.” The man warbled.

Joel didn’t really know why but white hot rage shot through him. He inhaled sharply and stomped on the man’s face, hard. He heard you gasp from the back of his horse which only ignited him further.

“She’s my fuckin’ whore now!” He yelled and spat in his face.

Fueled by rage and power, he turned to his right hand with an idea.

“Get me the rope, John.”

The man writhed on the ground, moaning and clutching his face. Joel approached the back of his horse with the rope, making you shuffle back in fear.

“Relax darlin’ this ain’t for you.” He breathed and tied the end of it to the saddle. Then, he turned to the man and bent down, tying the rope around his hands above his head.

You watched in shock and heard people around you, whispering.

“Alright!” Joel said after he was done. He got up onto the horse in front of you.

“Hold on baby.” He said softly and you reluctantly wrapped your arms around his middle.

Adrenaline coursed through him at the thought of the freedom of the mountains, of riding out of this stupid town with a pretty girl on his horse and a worthless drunk at his mercy. He turned to see John, who was giving him a knowing smile, the one he always gave him before they rode.

“Let’s ride.” Joel said, his voice gravelly like the desert sand. Before you could blink, they urged their horses onward and took off at high speed. You couldn’t help but let out a little scream as you startled and grabbed at him.

Your noise of shock was substituted by the agonized screams of the man being pulled by Joel’s horse. Begging and crying just like you had earlier.

You turned and watched the town get smaller, Anna-Leigh stood at the front of the crowd and gave you a pitiful wave. You looked down and saw the bloody body of the man.

You squeezed your eyes shut and turned back around, whimpering as you buried your face in Joel’s broad back.

Your tears stained his jacket as you rode away from the place that you had made your home. Towards a terrifying, shackled future.

-

As you journeyed on, you sat behind Joel on his horse, your hands clinging to his weathered leather jacket. His silence only made you more uneasy.

You feared for what the future held, gone was the stability of the brothel, the protection of your pimp. You were in a lawless land with a man who answered to no one. You’d heard the stories about Joel Miller, about the things he’d done.

You didn’t know how he’d treat a woman, if he’d be rough or gentle. Or if he’d throw you to his men. That was what you were the most afraid of.

You traveled for hours, eventually setting up camp as the sun began to set. As the air grew colder, Joel passed you a thick blanket to wrap around yourself. You sat in front of the fire with him as his men kept themselves occupied.

You brooded as you stared into the fire. You were still kind of in shock. This man had taken you away from everything, your life was gone. You didn't know if you were ever going to see your friends again.

You didn't realize, when you'd started spreading your legs for men, that this could happen. That you could be bought and sold like cattle.

You were scared for life with this godless outlaw. You didn't even know where you'd be living. Would you just sleep out in the desert like this? Would you spend the rest of your days being pounded by vicious men into the hard, dry earth?

"Want ‘sum meat?" Joel's gruff voice broke you from your thoughts. You turned to him apprehensively. He held out a piece of dried meat, offering it to you.

"Go on."

You slowly took it from him and took a bite like a scared wild animal. It was pretty good.

"Thank you." You said softly.

Joel looked satisfied with your response, you were both quiet for a while longer until you finally couldn't help yourself.

“Is this uh…” You spoke and he looked over to you, the fire casting sharp shadows across his handsome features.

“Is this how you normally live?” You finally asked, hoping you weren’t being disrespectful.

Joel shook his head after a moment.

“We’re travelin’ now.” He said, “but we got a place, nice and comfortable for a lady.”

You smiled a little bit at that last part.

“Thank you sir.” You wished you didn’t sound so scared, “I was just curious.”

“S’alright.” He grumbled out and began focusing on whittling a piece of wood.

-

The journey was hard but you tried your best to keep up. Joel never raised his voice at you, he didn’t really talk to you all that much in general. He hadn’t even touched you yet either. It seemed he was focused on getting everyone home.

His strength and capability drew you to him, but he still scared you.

After days of traveling, you finally reached where he and his men lived; a small grouping of cabins a mile or so away from a small village. It was just as well, since the sun was beginning to set over the horizon.

You still weren't sure what to think. Joel has been gentlemanly towards you so far. He still scared you though. His smoldering silence made you more uneasy than any unsavory man you'd ever encountered. He kept all his cards concealed, barely spoke, only when he needed to. His calm felt like that which preceded a storm, he commanded respect.

You didn't know what to expect from him.

You entered one of the larger cabins with Joel. It was nice, modest, and smelled of carpentry and tobacco. He set down his lantern on one of the wooden tables and dropped your things down with a slight groan.

His men unloaded everything, then they all nodded at each other and all left, closing the door and leaving you with Joel.

He moved purposefully, picking up wood from a corner and moving to the fireplace.

"Need to get a fire goin'." You heard his deep voice in the near darkness. The shadows thrown on his broad back made him seem even larger than he already was.

You didn't move, unsure of what to do, not wanting to make him mad.

After a fire was crackling he moved towards you silently, the wood creaking under his heavy footsteps. You resisted the urge to shrink away from him.

He was so close to you now, right in front of you.

"You were a real good girl on that trip." He said, his gravelly voice soft, the sound immediately went to your cunt and you were shocked at how aroused you suddenly became. 

You weren't sure what to say, you kept your eyes down, your hands behind your back.

He held your jaw and tilted your face up to look at him.

"You need to keep bein' good." He said, his tone a warning, "You don't cause any fuckin' trouble, you do what I say."

You felt breathless, the feeling of his hand on your face setting you on fire.

"Yes sir." You said quickly.

He smiled softly, "Good girl." He said gently and, to your shock, leaned forward and kissed your forehead. You gasped a little.

"Remember," His voice was still soft and velvety, "I own you now." He gripped the back of your neck tightly, "That means you're mine and I decide what to do with you."

You swallowed the dry lump in your throat. You wanted to cry. You never liked being a prostitute, but at least at the brothel you were free, not a man's property. At least, you thought you'd been.

But Joel had paid for you fair and square. You were his now.

You whimpered a little at the thought and he grabbed your hair, yanking your head back,

"Answer me when I talk to you girl." He spat.

"Yes sir, I'm sorry!" you choked out.

Seeming satisfied, he let go and patted your cheek, then moved away. It felt like you could finally breathe.

"I'm gonna get us some supper ," He said, "You stay here, make yourself at home."

With that he was gone. You stood in the single room cabin, your heart rate finally slowing down.

You looked around, the place was big enough, it felt cozy. There were some old chairs by the fire with a small handcrafted table in front of them.

The other side of the room had a big soft looking bed, then there was an area to the right with pots, pans and other things for cooking. Besides a small room off to the side with a basin of water and a cracked mirror, that was it.

It wasn't much, but it was nice. It felt normal. There were blankets everywhere. Cotton, knitted, animal hide, what have you.

It all made you feel a little better, but not by that much.

Joel came back in and gathered fixings for dinner. He had you both sit in front of the fire outside along with his other men. You all sat on logs gathered round. His men were boisterous and shameless as usual, but they only did so much as leer at you.

The food was pretty good, and you appreciated the hot meal.

When you shivered a little bit, Joel slipped off his fringe jacket and put it around your shoulders. You looked up at him and couldn't help but smile a little. How sweet, how...considerate.

He looked down at you, and smiled back. The wrinkles around his brown eyes became more pronounced, making his normally dead piercing gaze softer, kinder. A warmth bloomed in your chest.

-

After dinner was done, you both returned to his cabin. He cleaned up as you got comfortable, changing into a long, off the shoulder white cotton dress that held your breasts nicely.

You settled into his bed. It smelled like wood, tobacco, whiskey, him. The blankets and pillows were soft and you tucked your legs up, opening your diary. Beginning a new entry, you didn't even know where to start. Your entries were definitely going to get more interesting.

You wrote for a while before you heard a man enter the cabin. Looking up, you saw Joel and began to stand up but he put up a hand, stopping you.

You watched him walk over to the fire, his knees creaking a little as he bent down and threw a fresh log in. 

He sighed and slumped back in one of the chairs, kicking off his boots, unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his shirt.

You observed him for a while, his beautiful hooked nose illuminated by the firelight, his hair looked soft, his tough expression relaxed a bit.

You finally lost interest and returned to your diary, desperately trying to explain to it how you came to be in this situation.

Joel took swigs from his flask and worked on his whittling as you wrote. He liked the peacefulness, he liked that there was a pretty girl in his bed. You had come with him so easily, been so obedient. Sure, you'd been upset initially, but he hadn’t expected you not to be.

You'd been good, so far. You followed his orders and you were thankful for all the things that he gave you.

Compliant little thing.

He suddenly got an idea.

-

You had already covered two pages in writing when he called your name.

You sat up quickly and set your diary on his bed, slid off and walked across the wooden floor until you were in front of him.

“Yes sir?” You asked, your heart pounding slightly.

“Take off your dress.” He said quietly.

The command caught you off guard and you froze for a moment.

“I-what?”

“Take off. Your dress.” He repeated flatly, “Wanna take a look at what’s mine.”

His words both made your stomach hurt and your pussy ache. It felt like your feet and hands were going numb.

You took him in, his hard stare, the yearning and darkness in his eyes. You realized you had been fooled earlier tonight by his chivalry.

You swallowed and nodded, you were used to this business. You took a deep breath and untied the top of your dress, letting the bodice fall loosely around your chest. You gathered the fabric and pulled it over your head. You weren't wearing any undergarments so as your white dress billowed to the ground, you were left completely naked for him.

You heard him make a noise of approval and he nodded, smiling.

"Knew you were a good girl."

He eyed you up and down. His gaze made goosebumps erupt on your skin, causing your nipples to harden as he examined you. He stayed in his chair, his legs spread. You could see his bulge straining against his jeans.

You could feel your heartbeat pounding in your cunt...maybe Joel Miller would be gentle with you?

He finally stood up. Looming over you, he ran his large, rough hands over your arms, then your stomach and finally, up to cup and squeeze your breasts.

You couldn't help but let out a soft moan, Joel chuckled softly,

"I know baby," He rasped, "You've been waitin’ so long, been so patient."

You nodded quickly, your eyes wide as you looked up at him. Your complete submissiveness to him was due to his power, but you couldn't help but feel a little excited for this strong, terrifying man to take you.

"Go get on the bed for me."

"Yes sir." You said softly and he let out an almost inaudible groan. You walked over to the bed and laid on your back, immediately spreading your legs.

Joel laughed a little and shook his head as though in disbelief,

"Damn, I picked the right fuckin’ girl didn't I?"

-

He sat on the bed beside you as you lay, your pussy still on display for him, your arms on either side of your head.

Completely his, ready to be taken by him. It kind of shocked you that you had surrendered and accepted this role so quickly. But then again, you didn't have much of a choice, this was the easy way.

"Damn." He sighed as he let his eyes fall over you. He took his time touching you, slowly playing with you. You let your eyes flutter shut as you let him explore you, taking in his newest possession.

He touched you everywhere, except where you needed him most. You squirmed and whimpered, moving your hips to get his fingers anywhere near your wet cunt.

Joel quickly landed a harsh spank on your pussy and you cried out.

"Cut that shit out." He growled, "You're gonn' take what I give you and be a grateful little whore."

You nodded quickly.

"Say it."

"I'm-I'm gonna be a grateful little whore."

"Thas' right."

His thick fingers dragged through your dripping cunt and you let out a moan. He drew closer to you, inhaling the dizzying scent of your arousal and spreading your slickness up to your clit.

"Joel..." You whined and rolled your hips against his fingers.

"Good girl," He said huskily, "Jus like that."

He moved his fingers faster and you moaned and arched your back. No man had ever taken his time with you in this way.

You felt the pleasure wash over you and you let your moans echo around the cabin freely. You'd learned it wasn't a bad thing to be loud, your old pimp had always told you it was good advertising.

After taking in your reaction to that, Joel shifted his focus and curiously buried two thick fingers into your cunt. You moaned and gasped at the way he stretched you, it felt fucking amazing.

"Joel!" You cried out and rocked your hips in time with his hand. Following his movements and somehow doing exactly what he wanted.

He liked how responsive you were, how obedient.

He pulled his fingers out of you without warning and you whined at the sudden emptiness.

Joel got on his knees on the bed, towering over you. He pulled his shirt off and undid his jeans, pulling them down just enough to free his cock.

You audibly gasped when you took in the sight of it and he laughed a little.

"What? Not expectin’ me to be this big?"

"I-no-sir I didn't-I mean-" You stuttered.

"S'alright sweetheart." He murmured, "You wanna touch me?"

You stared at his thick manhood. You had no idea how fucking big it was, you reached your hand out and wrapped it around him, your fingers just meeting each other around his girth.

Oh fuck.

You whined and pumped his length, spitting on it and letting it spread over him.

His cock was beautiful, powerful and imposing, resting rock hard and heavy between his strong thighs. His balls hung heavy, his dark hair running wild up to his round stomach.

You sighed, contentedly.

Joel smirked, his large hand resting on the side of your head, cradling you as your hand worked him.

You looked up at him submissively, your eyelashes fluttering. Joel moaned at the way you pleaded for him without even saying anything. You were like a siren. He'd known you were the one the minute he saw you down in that saloon.

He suddenly pushed you back, roughly. Making you yelp out in surprise as your head hit the soft pillows. He looked at you hungrily and grabbed your hips, flipping you over so you landed on your stomach, bouncing up off the bed a little.

He yanked your hips up so you were on your knees, grunting and breathing heavily. You moaned and arched your back, spreading yourself for him.

You felt the head of his cock swipe through your folds and your heart raced with anticipation. He took a sharp inhale before slamming into your cunt with a snarl.

"FUCK!" You cried out, not expecting the sudden burn or stretch. Even with how wet you were, his massive cock split you open.

You gasped and whined as Joel kept himself buried in your pussy, groaning as he rocked his hips, getting harder and more forceful.

You let yourself become undone by him and he started sliding out and slamming into you more, getting faster and more enthusiastic.

He grunted and breathed heavily through gritted teeth as he pounded into you. He threw his head back, using his grip on your hips to move you and fuck your pussy. The way you moaned and screamed for him only spurred him further, abusing your cunt.

He was in control. He bought you, he owned you, you were his whore. Forever.

"Oh fuck!" He groaned, gasping as those thoughts brought him even closer, along with the squeeze of your cunt.

You couldn't even speak, your face was pressed into the pillow as you cried and drooled. You'd lost track of how many times you'd come, just letting yourself be used by him at this point. You couldn't deny that it felt amazing.

Joel leaned over and put a paw-like hand over the back of your head, crushing your face into the bed as he leaned over. Putting his weight on you, he used that to fuck you even harder.

Your cries were muffled and you almost couldn't breathe. Joel's thrusts became sloppier and you heard his breathing turn into desperate moaning. He finally came, thick ropes of cum shooting directly into you making you gasp and moan. The men at the brothel were never allowed to cum in you. If a girl got pregnant, she either got it taken care of or she was out.

But you were Joel's now. And Joel was the one who decided what happened to you.

He fucked his cum into you more, causing it to spurt out. Then he pulled back, you took a deep breath and relaxed onto the bed, his cock still keeping you plugged up.

"That's right baby." He murmured, "Good girl."

You let out a beautiful whine, your cunt tightening around his cock as he stroked your hair away from your face.

He sighed as he knelt over your limp form, his cock still keeping his seed in you.

You didn't move, When he finally eased out of you gently, you winced and cried out at the loss.

"I know, I know." He said softly, petting your hair.

He grabbed a cloth and wiped at your cunt, getting most of the mess cleaned up. When he decided that was good, he eased your hips down and turned you over.

You wriggled into a comfortable position, tucking your hair behind your ear and smiling up at him shyly.

He smiled at you again, the same one he'd given you at dinner. His normally cold eyes looked warm and safe.

You slipped your hands up around his neck, your eyes falling down to his lips under his scruffy beard.

He ran the rough pad of his thumb over your cheekbone,

"Such a good little whore." He said softly, then he leaned down and kissed you.

His lips weren't pressed against yours for that long but it still sparked electricity through you.

He pulled away and breathed out a laugh, "Alright, let's try an' get some sleep now."

"Yes sir." You said softly.

He put out the fire and the lantern and stripped off his pants before getting under the covers with you. His strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you into him, his softening cock pressing against your ass.

He buried his nose in your hair, each hand covering your tits, keeping them warm.

You nuzzled into his hold, you couldn't remember the last time you'd been held like this. You turned around and buried your face in his hairy chest. 

You had…liked that. You really liked it. You knew how wrong this all was. You knew that to him you were just a whore, his property, but…maybe you could make peace with that? Maybe Joel Miller would be a good owner.

You hated that you were even thinking that.

His large hand rested on your back, holding you close to him as your exhausted mind finally succumbed to sleep.

-

THANK YOU FOR READING I LOVE YOU

This is my first Joel fic AND my first dead dove fic which I didn’t think I’d be able to write but I had sm fun writing this!! Thank you to @toxicanonymity and @romana-after-dark and all the girlies with their scary Joels who inspired me🖤

YEEHAW LETS RIDE🐎🐎🐎

[unnamedmedicalprofessional]

Mrs Flood was dressed like Clara and Romana, not because she is Clara or Romana, but because she's cosplaying them because she's a big fucking nerd.

[vanajinn]

Time Ladies 

[ID: two digital drawings of Romana I and Romana II. The first depicts Romana I against a black backdrop lying down in a white dress with a feathered hood. She is gazing at the viewer with a look of superiority. Her white dress is flowing and iridescent. The second depicts Romana II from the shoulders-up, illuminated from the left by the light. She is dressed in a schoolgirl outfit with a dress over a white shirt and a red tie. Her hand is adjusting a straw hat and she is smiling with a knowing look. Both drawings are rendered with pencil, acrylic, and chalk-like brushes. end ID]

[darkuselesssomebody]

𝕧𝕒𝕝𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕖'𝕤 - dark!raider!joel miller x reader

complete masterlist

words || 𝟛𝕜

summary || in which the reader wants a valentine's gift, but Joel's not exactly her boyfriend

a/n || i'm so shocked i haven't written dark!joel before?? i love him, your honor. also, for the raider!joel concept, though overall popular for fanfic, i was personally super inspired by @toxicanonymity and @romana-after-dark. they both have fantastic raider!joel content, please check them out!!

➵ warnings for specific content before the divider, please heed them, this may be triggering content!

➵ technically ooc to joel in the show, but his dark past is hinted at so yeah

➵ not proofread

➵ comment/message if you'd have a request

warnings || smut/dark (dddne)

➵ !! reader is held captive and is experiencing stockholm syndrome. other women to which the same this is occurring are mentioned !!

➵ dubcon sex

➵ unprotected sex

➵ manhandling

➵ controlling dynamics

➵ slight degradation

“you have to do something for her.”

joel wonders how, as his younger brother, tommy always seemed to be nagging him, instead of the other way around. his face pinches in a scowl.

"the fuck i look like? cupid?" he growls back at his brother, rifle sagging on one of his shoulders, forcing him to readjust. tommy rolls his eyes.

"ya even have john and michael doin' somethin' special for their girls." he reminds joel how the other men in the group, with their own souvenirs, at least showed their consideration of the humanity of these girls on valentine's.

"she probably don't even know." joel grumbles, and tommy snorts.

"oh, she knows what valentine's is. the other girls told her. said she'd have liked some clothes."

"the fuck she need clothes for, ya sayin' i can't dress my girl?" joel, ever defensive, hates being talked down to by his little brother.

he hates more the fact that she seems to tell tommy so much more about herself than she does joel.

"y'can dress her, joel." tommy sighs. "but it won't hurt if she wears somethin' other than yer crusty flannels once in a while."

joel rolls his eyes, but he, luckily, doesn't have to entertain the rest of the conversation. a deer rustles the branches of a tree in the distance. joel's a better shot than his brother, always has been. but he's also less agile. as he's about to shoot, his foot crunches on a stick.

the shot still hits the deer's back, but it's a far cry from the headshot he was aiming for. he swears under his breath, but him and tommy are both already stalking the wounded prey, the same glow of determination and predation in their eyes.

they were still family, after all.

she used to never be able to sit still. pre-apocalypse, that meant she was always either fiddling with something, reading a book, or talking but... in the past few years, it meant a lot more silent stimulation. it was okay, she got by counting petals of flowers to herself or tracing the veins of leaves with her fingers to keep her mind occupied.

but the one thing she'd never given up was company. she'd had family, or friends, in every walk of this horrible turn of events, until 6 months ago.

when she was snatched away from her cruel life by an even crueler man. stripping her of autonomy and privacy were mild in comparison to her loss of company. the only other people in the house leered or jeered in her presence.

she was usually locked away from them anyways. in a tall tower she couldn't even use her hair to escape from; kept captive for the satisfaction and pleasure of a bad, bad man.

that's what made her head spin, though. because he wasn't always. yes, he was always sullen, and scowling, rough around the edges and calloused in his touch. but he wasn't always bad.

he'd fixed the bathtub of the house they were squatting in so she could revel in warmth if he wasn't around.

he risked his life for a new pack of cards and even a few books so she could keep her occupied.

and he would sometimes press gentle kisses to her forehead when he slept beside her, unbeknownst to himself, and without realizing the effect he had on her.

when the other men had started getting antsy about her being the only girl around (with her obvious off-limits status), joel relented and let them bring back their own. it was to avoid mutiny and maintain control, sure, but... it gave her company, too. and that was important to her.

the women would confide in her. first, of their fears and then, of their growing affections for their own men. it made her happy, vindicated.

she wasn't alone in her stockholm syndrome.

she's looking at the flowers that michael got for jessica. it's almost comical, with that kinda man and their kinda relationship. but jess liked it - really liked it - and that's all that mattered. john had promised anna something too, which she was talking about as the front door opened.

a dead deer was carried in by the miller brothers, and then some of the other men helped bring it out back to the shed, where they'd scavenge enough to feed the group for the week. as she always does, she approaches and stands in front of joel, greeting him in a low voice. he regards her with a once over, nodding, before his head tilts incrementally up, signalling to his bedroom.

she nods shyly, retreating to the room on the upper floor as joel delegates some tasks, before coming up to join her. she's looking out the window - barred, 'for her protection'- and he finally speaks up.

"what did ya do?" he asks gruffly, referring to the events in his absence.

"played some cards." she smiles softly as she faces him, "talked to anna and jessica." that makes him grimace a little, and she's confused.

"what about?" she shrugs.

"stuff. john and michael are gettin' them things, i guess?" she says it unsurely, "they say it's for 'valentines'?" she says the word curiously, as if wondering if it was something the 4 had made up, or if it was a real celebration. his grimace worsens: he hates when tommy's right. feigning innocence, he continues,

"what's that, then?" she looks at the floor shyly.

"like... a celebration? of... relationships, partners, that sorta thing." it's vague, but it's all she knows.

"huh." joel doesn't continue it further, and he goes silent, as he looks around the room to change out of his dirty clothes.

she sits on the bed, watching him move around, and with every passing moment of silence, her worry grows. did she say something wrong? was he mad? what happened?

when he finally goes to join her, he manhandles her to face away from him. that only makes her more upset, and she feels the prickle of tears in her eyes, as she lays down, and he joins her a moment later.

laying behind her as she feels a tear roll down her cheek, he doesn't realize how upset he's made her: he'd only asked her to turn around so he could fall asleep with the scent of her hair.

she wakes up after he's already left.

she sighs, rubbing her eyes, that always ended up a little inflamed after she cried. there's a little wetness on her pillow, and she flips it so joel doesn't see.

tommy's downstairs, having saved a fruit for her breakfast. she takes it gratefully, cutting it up and fiddling with the bite-sized pieces.

there's something on her mind - tommy, he notices these things. he wished his brother would, too.

"he's getting supplies." he assures her, knowing what was agitating her. she snaps out of it.

"hmm?" she pops a piece in her mouth, sweetness exploding on her tastebuds as she bites into it, "oh. right, yeah." she realizes what he's saying, "didn't he just get some?" tommy shrugs.

"he likes to go out to the abandoned mall - it clears his head." that makes her squirm.

"is he mad?" she mumbles, and tommy pats her shoulder.

"at you? never."

it wasn't exactly true, she thought. he's gotten mad before: if she talks too much to the others, when she doesn't listen to him, or when she finds herself in danger.

tommy knows joel's not mad in those moments. he's just terrified of what could possibly happen to his girl.

after finishing her fruit, she curls up under the blanket upstairs, wanting some time to herself. humming a melody - she thinks it's one that the guys will sing in an off-key fashion when they get particularly drunk - she tries to occupy herself by counting each of the little plaster bumps in the ceiling, and then all the small flowers on the dingy wallpaper of the room.

she gets to 78 when the door swings open. jolting awake, she makes eye contact with joel, who's looking down at her form under the covers.

"somethin' happen?" his voice is less gruff than usual, and she shakes her head.

"nope. just waiting." she gives him a weak, shaky smile. he doesn't return, but he doesn't click his tongue in annoyance, either. it's a win in her books.

he's got a backpack, and it looks pretty full. she wants to ask what's inside, but she knows he'll tell her if he wants to. he sighs, sitting on the edge of the bed. she scoots over so he has space.

"let me see you." he instructs, and she sits up, crawling out of the covers. sure enough, she's wearing one of his flannels for warmth, and had slipped into a pair of his boxers instead of her otherwise nonexistent pajama shorts. he's silent for a long moment, before he brings his fingers to examine the material. goddamn, was it old, frayed almost everywhere, and the chest pocket had a hole. he sighs, finally speaking, "comfy?"

she blinks, confused, "huh?"

"'re ya comf'rtable?" he repeats, voice gruffer. she lets out a nervous exhale. was it a trick?

"ye-yes. yeah, i'm comfy." she assure, and he hums.

"heard ya want somethin' new." he finally looks her in the eyes, something he doesn't do all that often. she shuts her eyes, cheeks heating in embarrassment and worry. dammit, tommy, she thinks, knowing the younger man had told joel about her offhand comment on clothes.

"it's fine, i'm happy with this." she splutters out quickly, hoping she won't upset him. he sees right though it though.

"yeah, yeah." he scoffs, waving a dismissive hand, as he gets up. her heart clenches, wondering if he was really angry, when he reaches for the backpack, throwing it at her.

it's not an aggressive throw, and lands on the mattress beside her.

"open it." he instructs, and she swallows thickly, unsure what to expect. the zipper is a little worn, but she eases it open... only to find not only clean but colorful clothes inside. she looks up at him in confusion.

"what...?" and for the first time in a while, there's just a hint of a smirk curling at his lips.

"go try 'em on." he encourages. giddily, she beams as she gets up, taking the bag of clothes into the cropped bedroom. he slumps back on the bed, trying to will away his fatigue. it'd been a hassle to collect all the clothes - more so, to find clean one he thought she'd like - so he leans back, waiting for her to return.

she lays out the clothes on the cramped sink counter space, starting with a simple pair of slightly flared jeans, pairing it with a light blue cropped cardigan. she goes out to show him, an obvious pep in her step.

he looks up as she enters, eyes trailing up and down her body, including the way the outfit fits her curves, and the slight glimpse of midriff.

"don't you look pretty?" he drawls, and, though it almost sounds sarcastic with his hard features, a light smile plays on her lips. she tries on 4 other outfits she could make out of the 10 articles of clothing he got her, and he seems to like each one even better. sure, he'd taken the initiative to ensure all of them were a little revealing - he deserved an eyeful for his hard work, after all - but she seemed genuinely happy, and the bright smile on her face almost rivals the cleavage that she shows off in some of the outfits.

when she shows him the final outfit, he pats the space on the bed next to him, and she obliges, sitting beside him.

"happy?" he finally murmurs, pulling her closer by the hem of her pants, and she nods excitedly.

"very." she assures, softening, "thank you." she doesn't need to clarify her sincerity, as it pours out in her tone. he caresses her cheek with his calloused thumb.

"good girl. you make sure to tell the girls." she almost laughs, knowing she'd show off the gift in the same way jess and anna have been with theirs. he wanted it to be known that fucking michael and john couldn't treat a better than he could, "got one more thing f'r you." he pulls her so she's standing, procuring two more pieces of small fabric from his pockets.

she inspects them, eyes widening a little when she realizes it's lingerie. he glances back at him, and he has a brazen and unashamed glint in his eyes. she's about to make a joke that this one seems more a gift for him than for her, but refrains, obliging with a small nod of her head, and taking it to the bathroom.

she strips out of her clothes, pulling up the lace fabric. the panties are practically a thong, shaping her ass nicely, while the bra enhances and perfects the curve of her tits, a small, red bow in between the cups, matching the bow on the hem of her panties.

she looks hot, and damn, is his taste good.

going back outside, a noise escapes his throat - like a guttural growl. he signals her to turn, and she does, giving her an ample view of her ass. he grabs her by the hips as she does, and she squeaks, as he pushes her down on the bed.

"oh!" she gasps, trying to sit up, but he's on top of her in a moment, mouthing at her neck roguishly, a sloppy trail left in his wake.

her skin erupts in goosebumps, but she knows better than to touch him when he gets like this - his need for dominance forbidding it. her hands grip the covers to ground herself, as his lips trail downwards, cheekily biting the bow of her bra, and taking a nip of her skin along with it. she moans, jolting, and he slaps her thigh - but gently. he's not meaning to hurt her - and trust her, she can tell when he is.

"stay still." he hisses, finally parting from her torso to marvel at her, "good lord, gonna fuck you in all this, sweetheart." he mumbles, more to himself than anything else, as his hands cup her breasts framed in the bra, squeezing softly so as to not damage the material.

usually, he'd revel in pushing her down to choke on his cock, and, when he was feeling more generous, he'd go down on her like a ravenous man.

but he was a simple man, who had been generous enough tonight. and he wasn't putting her in a position where he can't see her in the whole get-up, so the blowjob was out too.

fuck it, he thinks, reaching for the belt of his pants, i need her.

she gets up to help him undo his pants, but he forces her back into laying down, "wanna see you." he grumbles, finally undoing his pants. already hard, he palms his cock, eyes rolling back, "fuck."

he lowers again to shift the slit of the panties to the side, exposing her arousal, swiping his fingers through her mess, making her bite her lip. he wipes it gently on her cheek - a wholesome act, with a backdrop of degradation and depravity. he presses a soft hiss to the bow on her panties, making her shiver, before rising to his full length.

"you want it?" he grunts, as he strokes his cock, adjusting so it's lined up. she whimpers, as he's prolonging both of their suffering just to highlight her need for him. pathetically, she nods, and he laughs - barking and cold. "i can't hear you."

"yes!" she gasps out, unable to hold back anymore. he smirks in satisfaction, shifting his hips forward to bottom out in one stroke.

she cries out, eyes rolling back and head lolling onto the mattress, trying desperately to adjust to the stretch. he doesn't have that same decency, animalistically beginning to move his hips.

a squeal gets caught in her throat, and she cave to her instincts, gripping the wrist of the hand he's holding her waist with, squeezing as an indication of not her pain, but her pleasure.

thankfully, the adjustment was quick, and her surprised squeaks morph into pleasured moans, as he grunts on top of her, eyes raking the way that her tits try to bounce in the confinement of the bra. unusually, he's not annoyed by her touch, and it only makes him move more aggressively, as he can tell what makes her pleasure increase - as she'll squeeze his wrist harder.

"who's making ya feel this good?" he growls, "who takes care f'ya, sweetheart?" she chokes, garbled, broken moans escaping her.

"y-you!" she manages to gasp out, "o-only you, no one else, you - you take care of - of - oh, fuck!" she squeaks, feeling the pressure of her orgasm, "gonna - can i please - please-?!" she begs nonsensically, but he understands her - of course he does. she's his girl, after all.

"cum, sweetheart." he assures through gritted teeth, "who's making you cum?"

"y-you-" she cuts herself off with a cry as she cums, body stilling and legs trembling, as he continues to thrust and she rides out the orgasm.

he follows right after her, the squeeze of her cunt around sending his body into overdrive. collapsing on the bed beside her, the two remain silent for a minute to catch their breath.

finally, he clears his throat, getting up, and pulling her up, too. "go, clean up." he instructs, voice less gruff and softer, asking her to do something for her own good as opposed to his, "then change. don't think i can do another round right now." he knows that if he sees her in the outfit for longer, he'd get hard again.

with a woozy head, she does as he says. when she changes, though, she decides against the clothes that he bought her. she loves them, of course, but their either too coarse or flashy for night-time wear.

besides, they don't provide the precise comfort of stability that the flannel and boxers she puts on again does. though she tells herself she's not sure why joel's clothes seem more comforting than the new clothes, she's lying.

she feels more comfy in them because they smell and feel like him.

he's already knocked out when she exits, sleeping on his side, having evidently left the perfect amount of space for her to curl into his side, pulling his arm over to cradle her.

she knew he would always take care of her.

[cressida-jayoungr]

One Dress a Day Challenge

Anything Goes December

Dr. Who ("The Ribos Operation") / Mary Tamm as Romana (Romandvoratrelundar)

This is a very "wintry" episode, taking place on a snow-covered planet, and Romana looks both stylish and warm in her ostrich-feather-trimmed white cloak. It has capacious inner pockets, a hood, and slits for her arms. We catch just a glimpse of silver shoes as well.

The gown underneath looks like something Princess Leia might wear, which may not be a coincidence. This episode originally aired in September 1978, or about a year after the first Star Wars movie was in theaters.

[corazondebeskar-reads]

fic recs - Joel Miller (one-shots pt. 1)

fic recs for one-shots starring Joel Miller.

Key: 🏴 = dark, 💕 = fluff, ⛓ = rough/bdsm elements, 💀 = dead dove do not eat

Mind the warnings, and please read responsibly. you control your own media consumption.

All Fic Recs | TLOU Fic Recs | Joel series | one-shots pt. 2

dark!Joel

*note: if fics fit multiple categories but contain dark!Joel, they will go here only. Mind the warnings, and please read responsibly. you control your own media consumption.

🏴💀 Nightmare Before Christmas by @katiexpunk

Summary: As an escort, you’ve found yourself in some pretty fucked up situations before. Years of experience have taught you to navigate such situations with a combination of tact and assertiveness. Most of the time the men who exude an air of sleaze shrivel back into the corner, embarrassed and limp dicked.  Most of the time.  Tonight is not one of those times.

🏴⛓ truth or dare by @joelscruff

summary: a harmless game of truth or dare ends with you tied up in a certain mysterious neighbor's garage.

🏴His Protection by @absurdthirst

summary: When David's group takes you and Ellie to their settlement, you warn them that Joel will come for you. Knowing that he will do whatever it takes to get back those under his protection.

🏴 hostage by @atticrissfinch

summary: when you get lost in the woods, a stranger offers to help you get back to your camping site. when your gut tells you to run, you run--until he catches you.

🏴 ensnare by @ozarkthedog

summary: despite your reluctance, joel wants to fill you up.

🏴vicious by @sinsofsummers

summary: joel fucks you in his gas mask.

🏴 mothman fever by @beskarandblasters

summary: You and your friends head to Point Pleasant, West Virginia in late September for the Mothman Festival. And that’s where you meet Joel Miller, a fellow Mothman enthusiast. But once you spend some time alone with him you realize that he’s not who he says he is.

🏴 Joel Fucking Miller by @pedroshotwifey

summary: You and Joel Miller have been sworn enemies from the very start, both of you at each other’s other's throats since the first glance. What he can't know is that you have been harboring a stubborn crush on him this whole time---It’s not until he has you up against a wall that you realize he feels the same way.

🏴 Keep Cry'n & Cry Harder by @romana-after-dark

summary: Joel kidnaps you, but can't even wait long enough to put his dick inside you to cum.

🏴 keep on your mean side by @milla-frenchy and @aurorawritestoescape

summary: Joel takes you to Degradation Town

🏴💀 Mercy by @lokischocolatefountain

summary: Stranded alone in the woods and left to die, all you can ask of Joel Miller is the mercy of a quick death. He is willing to give it to you, but he needs something for himself as well.

🏴 Hurt and Protect by @lokischocolatefountain

summary: In a world where politeness wasn’t part of trade, it helped to have someone like Joel Miller as your protector. But to be his to protect also meant being his to hurt.

🏴down to the ankles by @atinylittlepain

summary: monsters are made of myths. in this story, two myths become one. two myths are in love. they are in wretched love.

🏴💀 no soul to sell by @atticrissfinch

summary: divorced joel is fucking his way through his newly acquired bachelor status, when he remembers you—the (recent) ex-girlfriend of his son—are now an option for him. 

bdsm

fics with explicitly d/s dynamics or play, not just rough sex/kinks, dom!Joel unless otherwise noted

⛓ Push & Pull by @javiscigarette

summary: Joel just realllyyy likes your dress

⛓ curled in by @bonezone44

summary: joel ties you up and makes you suck his toes and get off on his foot

⛓ something new by @atticrissfinch

*this is technically part of a series but it's a standalone piece.

summary: Joel wants to introduce you to a new kink (watersports).

⛓ spend all your love making time by @haylzcyon (sub!Joel)

summary: You're everything Joel never knew he needed.

⛓ slumber by @cool-iguana

summary: Joel needs you, but you’re asleep. Giving in to desperation, he can’t help himself from making you feel good.

⛓ what do you need? by @whatsnewalycat

summary: brat tamer!Joel and brat!reader in an exploration of a scene where reader is overwhelmed/stressed and needs Joel to help her find peace through submission.

⛓ kinktober day 30: free use by @softpascalito

summary: Joel comes home urgently needing some relief. Its a good thing youre there- and the first time Joel makes use of an ... interesting agreement.

jackson!Joel

observations by @ezrasbirdie

summary: You're not like the other girls, but it'd be easier if you were. Joel Miller doesn't see it that way.

One and Done by @moralesispunk

summary: Joel never leaves you wanting more, but sometimes you do like to tease him

old habits by @wheresarizona

summary: Back in Boston, Joel Miller was your favorite client who frequented your services, exchanging ration cards and other items deemed illegal for sex with you until he just disappeared one day. It’s years later, and now, by a stroke of dumb luck on your journey out west, you’ve found yourself in the town of Jackson and in close proximity to Joel once again, the two of you immediately falling back into old habits

⛓ cruel by @notjustjavierpena

summary: Joel and you never attend the rest of Jackson’s population when it’s movie night. Instead, you become one messy tangle of limbs and oh, how you love him being a meanie.

 

qz!Joel

Pistol by @cosmictheo

summary: during a stormy night at bill and frank's house, joel teaches you how to hold your gun, and this opens up the perfect opportunity for the two of you to finally release all the feelings of longing and lust you've been repressed for each other over the past few weeks.

What Happens Here, Stays Here by @fettuccin-e

summary: anonymous sex with qz!Joel

signs I don't read by @pascalisbaby

summary: joel likes things done his way, especially when he’s fucking you

⛓ kinktober day 28: cuckolding by @absurdthirst

summary: your boyfriend owes Joel and can't pay up, so Joel takes you as payment instead.

🏴 The Stranger by @nala2811

summary: You and a certain stranger are hurled away to somewhere else within the QZ, where you both are required to perform a very particular task…

angst

september by @cavillscurls

summary: Joel hates his birthday. You discover why.

born lucky, under a bad star by @softlyspector

summary: Joel has always been lucky, in the worst of ways.

nobody's son, nobody's daughter by @fragilefable

summary: When you and Joel get separated the night of the outbreak, you spend the next decade searching for him. Just when you've given up— a miracle occurs.

[gotyouanyway]

obviously mrs. flood dressing like clara and romana is bait but like slurp idfc

[totothewolff]

Season of Love (3/?)

+18 | Toto x reader fem!teamprincipal, romance, comedy, and some good drama.

Summary: One night on a pier in Monaco, while admiring the sea under the night skies, you tell Toto: "I came to the conclusion that love is simply not meant for me." That's the answer to a question you have been asking yourself for the longest time. But what if he proved you wrong? Author's note: This is a multichapter Toto Wolff x team principal reader fic set along a season of F1. It's a very immersive story full of drivers, team dynamics, races, mystery, and smut. You just bought the Williams team, but nobody really knows who you truly are.

< Previous chapter | Masterlist | Next chapter >

Dances with Wolff Arc Chapter 3: Can you feel the traction?

Emilia Romana

After spending days away in Monaco, you had enough time to clear your mind and go for a Toto detox. You felt you needed it after all those weeks of having him near you and being too fixated on him; it came to a point where all your mind did in its free time was wander to him, along was also that other bad habit you developed of texting him daily beside making dumb excuses to go to him in the paddock and spend time with him outside business environments; like some sort of loyal puppy following his owner everywhere begging for his attention and some pat. 

Of course, no one knew about this; you two preferred keeping it private.

No one knew about that one time you two went to grab dinner by the bay in Baku. He looked extra handsome that night while waiting for you, leaning against that ridiculous Mercedes vintage car that for sure gave his team a headache to get it there, making your heart skip when you saw him in that expensive-looking three-piece suit, wearing his reading glasses on and smiling fully at you as you approached him down at the entryway of the luxury hotel you were staying at, you looked gorgeous and elegant yourself too wearing a stunning Zuhair Murad golden sheer-embroidered dress. Toto couldn't contain himself from staring you down as you effortlessly went down the stairs and reached him, and you couldn't avoid sniffing him - as discretely as possible - when he hugged you hi; you loved his scent; that Paco Rabanne cologne of his was beginning to get impregnated in your mind. 

Or about those long walks on the beach in Miami in the early hours to enjoy the sunrise together before heading to work. One of those days, you walked by the sea in comfortable silence, hands touching, just enjoying the view and yourselves, feeling the warm sun on your skin. The following day, you acted all playful on the beach. You had the most fun time pushing him towards the ocean to get his bare feet wet and teasing him to get him to sink in, not expecting Toto to chase you on the sand, run after you, and pick you up to bring you inside the water with him. You tried to ignore the dirty thoughts you had when Toto manhandled you with such ease and when your bodies brushed and bumped against each other in the wave's movements. 

Toto did his very best to avoid getting aroused by the sight of your wet clothes tight on your skin, drawing your curves and muscles and how tiny your waist felt between his arms. You wanted so badly to take off his shirt and to draw the veins on his arms with your fingers while running a hand all over his bare chest, and Toto wanted so badly to run his hands up your thighs and ass, to make your beach dress go up and get it out of the way.

Your attention didn't seem to bother him since Toto didn't push you away, but neither pushed you closer, which confused you. It's like he wants you by his side, yet nothing ever happens at the end; this makes you feel needy and a bit desperate, which you hate. Both are falling into a grey area that could be potentially dangerous or hurtful, and action is needed: either you risk it or let it go.

So, you arrive at Imola with a new mindset; you will try to go cold turkey on him. It would be best for the two of you to go back to business only; the Hungary GP is near and will require all your mind and strength. It's vital for your plan's success; you will not fail! No, after years of waiting for this chance!

-

It's pouring rain. The cars don't even hit the track when all teams must leave the garages. The skies are all grey and full of clouds, and a gloomy mood sets in as everyone is taking shelter at their team's motorhomes and hospitalities, making you all feel isolated in a desert-looking paddock.

You observe, from high above, a few people rush to cross from one side to the other underneath their heavy jackets, taking cover from the cold heavy rain while trying to dodge slipping in the large puddles on the concrete lane, looking through the panoramic windows, inside your warm office on the second floor of the W building as you finish discussing safety with your team and drivers, waiting for the FIA updates on the direct line, free practice gets postponed till further notice. 

Then you notice your phone buzzing like crazy on your large black marble desk.

The interior design and architecture of your office and the Williams building combines brutalism and minimalism with industrial touches, light grey concrete walls, avant-garde furniture, dark wooden and polished concrete floors with very expensive-looking boucle tweed rugs strategically placed under fantastic lightning, creating several different but cohesive ambiances between spaces. "Rich people and their quirks," you used to say, till you developed yours, which was having artists design the lightning of your rooms, a refined and expensive acquired taste.

You pick up your phone to find out what's going on. It wasn't your personal one. Yes... You owned three iPhones: personal, business, and a secure line. It was the business one, so you rule out a real emergency.

Lando Norris added you to the group chat.

—"Get a grip, loca🏎!"? Really? —Charles asks.

—What's this? —George questions.

—We should have called ourselves "Silverstoned🚬" —Sam adds.

—Does Sebastian have a phone? Send number —Lando texts.

—Yes, he just got a smartphone, but I wonder if he knows how to use it —Lewis answers.

Toto Wolff left.

—Are you serious?! Get his ass back in! —Lando complains.

—I don't think it's a good idea! How did you get Toto's number?! —Sam replies, honestly impressed and a bit surprised.

—Guys, what's this for? —Carlos inquires.

—I'm a very talented and famous driver, Sam! Of course, Toto asked for my number years ago; he has been following me closely! JK, my manager got it. What's Millie's number? —Lando texts.

—There, I sent it to you —Mick answers.

—Why? Are you leaving too? —Lando finally replies to Carlos.

—No, you idiot! But you aren't telling us.

—Hi! Who is this? —Seb enters the chat.

—Well, with this weather, I'm not planning to go from building to building to ask you if we are going out this week. What's the plan?

—Is she in?! —Lewis questions. No need to write down your name.

—Of course she is! Lando made this group. Do you think she's not in?! —Sam jokes.

—YES, I'm reading you, guys! My phone was vibrating so hard on the surface of my desk that it made me feel jealous of the marble —you joke. —Lando deceived my assistant and got my number out of her. Let's gather after free practice, if weather permits, at that sad and forgotten table behind the hospital wing to plan. Game? —you enter the conversation.

—GAME! —lots of bubbles appear.

—Game, but who is this again?! —Sebastian asks once more.

—And what if the weather doesn't permit it? —Charles jokes.

—We get there by yacht! —Lewis adds.

—Should we invite anyone else? —Sam asks.

—Checo!

—Riccardo!

—Seriously, who is this?!!! —Seb texts, one last time, to everyone's amusement.

-

The weather improves. FP1 goes as plan, just an hour and a half later. Unfortunately for you, the press conference also goes ahead. So there you are, sitting in front of the cameras, microphones, journalists, other team principals, some team owners - more like Stroll and you - plus a couple of FIA's big names. 

You are placed in a sandwich between Horner and Michael; to Horner's right is Toto. Handsome as ever. You feel his eyes set on you but choose to ignore him, trying to stick to your plan.

Before opening the mic for in-person queries, the moderator starts the conversation and asks the preselected fan questions they received on the F1 official Twitter account. Not a single one has been address to you, thankfully, yet.

—This one is for Y/N —the bombshell moderator - a beautiful redhead - turns your way.

Oh God. You talked too soon.

—Kelly, age 7, from Kensington, UK, is asking if you could tell us a fun fact we don't know about each team principal now that you know them! She attached a draw she made of the Williams team; Millie looks quite square, and Mick has a Dorito face; you agree with Kelly that the uniform looks better with purple glitter and teddy bear tape.

You make a face that has the entire room laughing. —Well, let's see. I guess I will go in the order they are sitting —you smile and make an "I'm thinking" gesture.

—Play nice —Christian says. You wink at him.

—Well, Mattia sure loves Starbucks! Every time I cross him on the paddock with my venti in hand, he stops me to tell me how much of a fan he is —Mattia nods with his head smiling, knowing you are mocking him. He still doesn't get how you drink that most hideous thing regularly; Mattia even once invites you to drink real coffee, in his words, at the Ferrari hospitality because he couldn't bear it anymore. —Ah!... Gunther... Gunther... 

—Fuck sake...

—Just here between us —you say softly, covering the corner of your mouth with your hand and addressing the journalists. —I think Gunther is a bit unprofessional. He is always on the phone with this Gene guy, you know. Gene this, Gene that. It's a bit of a codependent relationship if you ask me. I mean, when is this man working?! Half of Hass's budget goes on his phone bill. Oh, wait! Gunther, wink if you are in an unhealthy relationship?! Is he controlling you?! Gunther!

He turns on his chair, giving you the shoulder.

—Who's next? Toto! Toto is a very sensitive guy.

Everyone laughs.

—A true softie, look at him —Christian adds while glancing at him. Toto shrugs his shoulders a little bit, smiling.

—Yes, a softie! He cries watching Cars; Toto loves reading us poems and always brings cake or cookies for everyone at the meetings; he bakes —you smirk at him.

—Christian. That guy is a menace —you let out a massive sigh. The room laughs. —I don't know what Paul (Pole) —you imitate his British accent and voice —Did to you and why you are always chasing him. If I were him, I would ask for a restriction order. He is so obsessed with this Pole guy!

—OH MY GOD —Gunther giggles.

—Fred NEVER shuts up! He is a man of many words. Please! If you see him around in the paddock, approach him; he loves talking to people! Make him a five or ten-minute conversation —Fred covers his face with his hand, not saying a single word.

—Michael never takes my calls. He is always busy signing photos of himself and rearranging his trophies; I don't know why he insists we travel those around. Poor Mick has to change in the hallway; those things take up all the room in the garage. Do I have to keep going or...?

-

When you join, the group is already gathered at the table behind the medical center. As you approach, you hear their laughs and chats; those sounds warm your once-cold heart.

—As the Titanic lady said, it's been 84 years! —Millie greets you.

—Apologies, apologies! That press conference took forever! I would revolt if I was forced to hear Zack one minute more. Any plans or ideas yet? —you start hugging everyone.

—You tell us! —Carlos and Lando agree with you.

—We all voted for the wine-tasting tour —Checo informs you.

—No clubbing after the Sunday race, this time! —Lando confirms.

—Count me in! Sounds great!

-

Toto is typing...

"I tried to reach you on your way out of the press conference. You really walk fast! You are faster than a Hass; in a second, you were gone. I had no luck at the paddock or pitlane, either. Cinque Terre is just a jet ride away. Let me know."

Toto feels you are acting more cold and distant towards him this time. He wonders if you, too, had given it a thought about your "friendship" during the short break. This triggers him and sets his alarms on. He will not lose your interest.

Be strong, be strong, don't fall for it! You keep repeating yourself. Oh god, this is so hard! You let yourself drop on the bulky mattress of your gilded-style bed, phone in hand. 

You are hiding in your vila at the five-star baroque Italian resort after spending hours also hiding at your office. Avoiding Toto is hard and sucks! 

You look out of the balcony window in your room; the sun is setting behind those tall cypress trees and old-timey stucco buildings. A natural bright orange light bathes the space.

Twenty minutes later, another text from Toto comes through.

"I see. Dinner at Cinque Terre is not convincing you. What about in Ristorante Grotta Palazzese? It's inside a natural cave with sea views; it sounds like our type of place."

"Our, our, did he really said our? Who am I kidding? I'm not strong enough. I want Toto."

"Sounds great," you text him back right away.

"There are you! The chauffeur will pick you up at 7.00 p.m. Is that good?"

More than good.

-

The chauffeur arrives on time; you board the silver Mercedes SUV, but Toto is not in there. The driver heads to a runway outside town. 

You cross many narrow and ancient red brick streets at speed. Your eyes observe the beautiful Romanesque, Baroque, and Gothic buildings on your way there. Magical moments like this make you feel blessed with your present. You can never avoid the sad thought of what would have been of you if things had stayed their course.

When you arrive at the destination, a jet awaits you. The chauffeur opens the car door for you and helps you up the jet stairs. Once inside, there is still no sight of Toto. 

When the stewardess closes the door behind you, you feel totally confused till you turn around, and Toto waves hello to you from the pilot's seat at the cabin.

—Should I have signed my will? I have many things to inherit to Sam —you poke fun at him, getting what is going on, and he laughs. —Hey! Where is your uniform?! 

Pilot Toto is a sensual idea.

-

You make it alive and well to the restaurant. Your night-out locations are getting progressively more romantic and unique each time. Toto wasn't kidding; the beautiful venue is on a scenic cliff overlooking the sea; a couple of candles light the small round table, and a gorgeous bouquet of flowers scents the place. The natural stone of the cave surrounds you; it doesn't feel cold or humid; the air is warm and a bit salty.

—Is all good between us? —Toto takes you by surprise; his voice is earnest and calm as you both get comfortable in your chairs.

—Yes. Why?

—We haven't spoken in a couple of weeks.

—Oh, that! Sorry, yeah, feel free to reach out whenever you want to. I just moved to Monaco, and you know it's being cra-

—Really!? Where in the city? I live in Monaco, too! —Toto seems so happy about the news.

—At Mareterra near the marina. 

—I'm not that far away!

—How is it that we didn't see each other? It's a small town!

—Yeah, it is! I was at Brackley. It's not much of a break for me. Usually, these weeks are full of stress and work.

—You're right; it's different for you guys. Sam says I have a fake job and that team owner shouldn't count as one. 

Toto laughs and agrees; you soft-puch his arm jokingly.

—Have you explored the city yet? I have so many places to show you.

—Yes! I have been enjoying the sun, sea, and the local cuisine; I love it there —And guess what? I live with Charles Leclerc now! That's something you don't dare to say.

—It's better than Wallonia's weather, for sure! —Toto lets out. Shit! Now you will know he gossips about you with Sam.

You let it slide, but you notice. Interesting.

-

A bottle of Petrus goes empty as you two share the night away; once more, you aren't sure if it's the wine or the Mediterranean breeze, but the atmosphere feels different. Until you notice Toto is acting differently; this time, he flirts back, and this time, he seeks your touch.

-

Sam was so right. You were all the things she described and more. 

She said great.

And you became this positive force in his life.

Strong.

And you earn your place against all expectations and comments. Leaving Toto in awe.

Intelligent.

And you give him the best advice; you make him feel his burden less heavy.

Kind.

And you always have encouraging words when he needs them.

Fun.

And you make him smile every day like it is your duty, and you make him feel life is in full color.

And so damn hot. 

And there you are, a step away in front of him, wearing that tight black Mugler mini dress, waiting for the elevator. Toto was a true gentleman and walked you to the elevators once back at your hotel. When the doors open, you turn to him, pushing the hold button. An open invitation for him to join.

That's all you need to know. And that's all I'm telling you.

And yes, that's all he needed. Toto takes action.

-

You two kiss, making up for all those minutes and moments you have held back since you met once the elevator doors of your hotel room open up. You are eating each other mouths while French kissing, tongues exploring every corner, biting each other lips; it feels hot, wet, and sexy. Hands caressing everywhere, exploring your bodies.

Toto picks you up and wraps your legs around his waist. Then he places his hands on your ass, securing you, as he takes you to the bedroom.

He places you on the bed slowly, rubbing your whole body against his as he drops you down. You are left on your knees on top of the mattress, almost at the corner of the bed. Then he pulls you closer by the waist as you are licking his lips; one of your hands is around his neck, and the other is on his chest, caressing it.

Toto's hands trail your thighs up to your ass, pulling your dress up as they pass by, revealing your tiny sheer black lace Brazilian thong. —Fuck —he lets out. And he squishes your ass tightly. You let out a moan and soon start unbuttoning his shirt. He moves to kiss your neck and finishes pulling off your dress, taking it over your head and tossing it to the side; it falls to the floor.

You also finish undoing his shirt, and you start kissing his naked chest. Biting skin as you get down. You reach his groin; he is getting hard. So you trail one of your hands - with two fingers in a V shape - from the middle to the tip of his cock, applying pressure as you trace his length. Making him grunt. You open the button of his pants with your mouth and bite down his zipper. He quickly finishes pulling his pants down and removes his shoes and socks.

Then Toto takes off your bra, releasing the girls, and takes a lustful look at them. He slowly lays you back against the mattress and starts kissing you down, stopping for a good while to lick and bite your nipples while massaging your breasts with his hands. You are getting wet. He continues his way down, kissing your belly as he passes by. Then, Toto takes his time to caress and kiss your inner thighs, making you moan more. He sucks on the sensitive skin and starts licking with his tongue all the way from your outer to your inner labia lips. You squint and tremble at the sweet contact; then, Toto focuses on massaging with the tip of his tongue, in small circles, every single spot of your pussy. He is eating you so good, having fun playing with your clit, and biting your popped-out lips. 

—Ougng, unff, ughhh —you moan out, fuck, he is good. With the palm of his hands, he pushes your legs up over his shoulders and pulls you closer towards him, burying his head and tongue even deeper into you; you orgasm. 

—You moan so beautifully —he lets you know with a rough voice. You feel weak in the knees. Toto stops eating you up to lick his right-hand thumb finger and, with it, pets your clit, in hoops, every lap adding more pressure. It feels heavenly. Then with his left-hand places two of his fingers inside your mouth for you to lick them; when he gets them wet and warm enough moves them to stroke your clit in oscillatory movements, every time faster. God, you feel so much pleasure.

Toto is so hard under his boxers, so you start caressing it. You couldn't wait to pull that fat cock out, so you get to it. You start incorporating, and he gives you the space to make the next move. You reach for his underwear and slowly pull it down; his dick wiggles a bit with the friction of the fabric before curving. Fucking lucky girl you are. 

—Umh —he moans as you wrap your hand around his length and start jerking him off, moving your hand from outside to inside movements and pulling from the balls to the tip. His moans get so guttural. Fucking hot.

You commence licking his dick before placing the tip of his cock inside your mouth, it is warm and firm, and you love the sensation of him on your tongue; after a couple of minutes of sucking him, he points you to the floor. Of course, that is a more comfortable position for the two than your current one; he offers you a hand to step down. You slowly get to your knees in front of him and start blowing him up deeper and harder, resting a hand on his muscular thigh. You are licking him nonstop like his dick is your favorite lollipop. He moans more.

A moment later, Toto, with his left hand, starts caressing your chin, tracing it. And pulls his cock out of your mouth. Placing it instantly over your lips while you kiss it, giving him small kisses on the head, you two lock looks. From his perspective, it is a fantasy scene having you like this. God, what a view. With his other hand, he parts your mouth open and pushes himself back in and deeper down your throat this time. You hold him there for as long as you can. He pulls himself out again, making a soft pop sound, and does the same movement several times more. It turns you both so much.

You two can't wait a minute longer. Foreplay was so much fun, but you needed Toto inside you as soon as possible. And he wanted so badly to be inside you and to pound that pussy hard. He puts on a condom, offers you a hand to get you on your feet, and in a quick movement, he lifts you once again and takes you to the bed, this time placing you against the headboard and holding you over his hips. You instantly wrap yourself around him. You expect him to drop you down like before, but he doesn't. 

Toto adjusts himself and, in that position, slowly enters you. You let your head tilt back in pleasure. He starts fucking you like that, so you lean against the headboard while he slides you up and down on his cock, his fingernails burying in your ass, rocking you, both moaning every time his dick hits the spot. As the rhythm gets faster, he can't take off his eyes from your bouncing tits. He is so so hard you feel being impaled. You both are a mess of panting and moans. Fuck, you are so close to cum.

—Toto! ungh! fuck, fuck, fuck!

—A bit more, baby girl, fuck, hold it a bit more. I need you more.

—Toto, I can't, unf, baby.

—I don't want to stop, fuck, you are the best feeling in this world —he thrusts you hard. Skin hitting on skin very loudly. —You are so addictive.

You keep rhythm in that position a bit longer; you both are warm and sweaty till you orgasm loudly. You two stop for a second and go back to kissing each other. Toto tenderly places you on the bed. You take advantage of the movement and your upper position to slowly push him back against the mattress. Now, it's his turn. He lays there looking up at you; his eyes are full of lust, desire, adoration, and love; he knows you are about to ride the fuck out of him. 

You place yourself on top of him, one hand on his chest, the other sliding his cock inside you. You take him fully in; his dick is all the way inside you. You shift and adjust a bit, making him grunt. Then you start rocking your hips in semi-circles, slowly fucking him, making him moan for more. You could feel his hand grabbing your ass, caressing your thighs and your bend legs, then move to your neck and tits. You start bouncing on his cock, jumping on it several times before riding him harder, now in oscillatory strong movements for both your pleasure. Your pussy feels really warm. And you feel his body tensing up beneath you.

In a quick, solid move, Toto bends his legs, pushing them up, provoking you to tumble towards him, making you place both your hands on his chest to avoid falling over his upper body and face; he grabs you by the waist with a strong grip, his big hands cup your tiny waist, his fingers sink on your skin.

And he starts giving it to you so hard. He was rapt with the sensation of his thighs slapping against your ass and his balls slapping your pussy. You feel your body trembling and your tits bouncing violently.

—Toto, I'm so close, uuuughh —You can barely speak coherently. You feel like he is about to break you in two or that antique bed. —You are hitting it so good. Ugh, Toto, I'm about to, I, I-!

You cum all over your thighs and on his cock with a massive moan. 

—Fuckkkk —Toto lets out. You look like a hot mess.

In that position, he pulls you towards him, and you lay on his chest, burying your head on his neck; he can feel your hard nipples rubbing against his skin; you feel him fucking you a bit more with powerful deep strokes, slowing down, till he bursts out inside the condom among passionate kisses from you. The sound you provoke him when he comes fulfills you so much.

Even though you two are athletic, you are so out of breath and covered in sweat.

-

Yesterday, you two were at a fancy restaurant dining author's cuisine. Today, you were eating street pizza and sharing a massive 5-euro slice of Margherita on your way to the circuit entrance. 

Toto takes a big bite while you hold the pizza near his mouth as he rolls his shirt sleeves and adjusts his uniform. You are in a rush. 

It turns out Toto is the world's most comfortable pillow; you were all warm in his embrace that he had to drag you out of bed against your will and get you into the shower you two shared that day to wake you up. 

It was almost midday, and you two were running late for Qualy. Why can't you ever make it to Qualy on time?

-

Definitely, this week was one to remember, not only because of your private life. Also, because Millie finally fulfilled her dream of winning at Monza. She grew up a Ferrari fan, and this track meant so much to her. Another Grand Prix was in the bag, and Millie was closer to winning the driver's championship. She wanted to make HERstory.

You discretely caress Toto's hand as he watches the podium ceremony beside you. Amidst champagne rivers, screams, and jumps from the crews supporting their drivers, he looks at you and only you.

In that moment, you fall in love, true love.

-

Monaco

—Toto.

—Yes? —he turns his gaze away from the cool sculpture he is checking out in the gallery where you two are and looks your way. You had many errands to run that day, and he chose to join you as soon as he got free time.

—I need your help. Come, quick. —You tell him, and then you address the sales lady. —Are you sure the painting is two meters tall? Sweetie, stand there, please.

Toto moves near the Sterling Ruby painting exhibit on the wall.

You compare proportions and turn to nod the saleslady yes. Yeah, you are buying it! It was the perfect piece for the apartment foyer!

—Did you use me to measure?! —Toto complains to you. —Like a ruler?

You smile at him as big as possible, looking all silly and adorable.

—You will be the death of me. 

You come close to Toto to kiss him softly, standing on your tiptoes.

-

Day 23, and Charles still needs to learn how to park. His car is all crooked, invading, as usual, your parking slot, making it a whole task for you to park your brand-new grey Lamborghini Urus in its place.

—You brought the vinegar chips? —he asks you as you enter your apartment's living area, without even moving his eyes away from the screen before him. He is so into that PlayStation game. You have to admit, he is like your teenage son at this point and a very spoiled one.

You pull the bag of chips out of the paper grocery bag with one hand and up in the air for him to glimpse.

—YEIH! —he makes a happy sound and stands up to get them. Wincing and stretching, first. —I forgot I had legs! I tried pulling my Monster can closer with your stick, but I failed!

—You know it is a sculpture, right? —you are referring to the piece on the table next to the couch where Charles was melting in.

—One that looks like a stick and feels like a stick. Please don't tell me it is abstract and that I don't get it —Charles opens the bag of chips with a loud bang, bursting all the air out of it. He was doing all you usually found annoying, yet you were all smiley and happy. Uhm, very suspicious.

—You guys fucked —he figures it out as he places a chip into his mouth and crunches it very loudly.

—WHAT?! —you go all red.

—Yeah, you did! —Charles looks so ridiculous in those oversized pajamas; what did Lewis and Murakami think when designing that thing? —You have been all smiley and glowing lately. I mean, I'm really happy for you guys! Oh, come on, don't try to deny it! I know you have feelings for Toto. I'm a professional driver, with quick reflexes and good sight, you know.

—Is it way too obvious?! —you start to panic and ask helplessly.

—Not really. It is just that Sam and I know you too well —he pauses. —Well.. I kind of know you.

—Charles, I wish I could...

—I know, I know, no pressure —he rubs your arm.

—So is it official, then? You and Toto?

—I think so? We haven't spoken about it, really.

—As the king of toxic relationships, I must advise you to not pressure yourselves. Let things take their natural course.

Oh God... If that was the case, that course was full of rapids and rocks and was meant to crash.

-

Lewis invites you to dinner at his place. As you enter his apartment, you greet Angela and Roscoe while holding the tofu and plant-based charcuterie board you brought. Roscoe goes after you due to the smell of it. Lewis giggles.

—It's never enough food for him! —Hamilton adds.

—Help! He is giving me the eyes.

—Be strong! —he tells you with a commanding voice.

You follow Lewis to his entertaining kitchen area. Delicious vegan delicacies are on display on the marble island counter.

—All looks and smells so good! —you compliment.

—He cooked it all by himself —Angela jokes. You all laugh.

—It's a lot of food, isn't it? —Lewis shrugs his nose.

—I was thinking about texting Toto to join us. He is my neighbor, you know? He lives in the twin building —Lewis points out the window to an identical building in front of his, just on the other side of the large pool. —But Sussie is there with him. I think they need time alone for themselves. Things are rocky with those two, so I heard —he informs you.

Sussie is staying at his place?! He didn't mention you she was in town. Okay, that took you off guard, but you play it cool. —It must be weird having your boss next door —you smoothly switch topics; you are a pro at that art.

—I have an excellent relationship with him. We are not like close friends, but we make a great team; I owe him a lot and vice versa, so we are essential and supportive of one another —Lewis shares with you.

You are not the only one holding essential and sensitive information back. You don't know if this makes you feel better or worse.

Your friendship with Lewis is one that you weren't expecting to happen, but you felt so blessed it did.

—I need to know all about Shakira. Lewis, we can't fail this!

He laughs really hard.

-

Monaco is the only race you were hoping for your team to lose.

Only because you knew how important it was to Charles. So when he loses control of his car on the chicane and outs himself, you feel your soul leaving your body before grabbing it in the air and getting it back in. 

It's going to be a rough night, and he will need all your support.

-

Charles cries in silence as you two observe the vast sea on that cliff you went to weeks ago. It took you to drive Charles there this time.

Toto is nowhere to be seen after the race and on a radio silence on the phone. Now you knew why, but your problems seemed small when your dear friend was sorrowing next to you.

—This is so embarrassing —Charles says, wiping his tears. —There are countries at war, and I'm here crying because I broke my "vrum vrum" car at the races —he jokes.

—No problem is too small —you tenderly pat Charles's shoulder. —And the better way to heal is to cry. I know a thing or two about it —you say very frankly. He turns to you with red eyes still.

—You got really hurt. That's why you shelf yourself and avoid bringing the past to your present —Charles points out. Sometimes, it freaked you out how much he got you and how perceptive he was.

—Yes. I have been through a lot, enough for five lifetimes, I must admit. That's why I chose to build up walls millions of meters tall. But at the end of the day, violence hurt me way less than love did. I hope one day to be able to tell you all. And I hope one day to see you on that podium here. I'm really sorry for how it went —you two tightly hug.

—Is there any chance your walls are guarded by dragons or trolls, too? I ask for an Austrian guy who might like to know this information.

You laugh. Only by a Belgian ice knight in shiny armor, you think.

-

A phone call enters your secure line around 3 a.m. that night. You violently wake up, immediately recognizing the ringtone; you walk fast to the drawer where the iPhone is and pick it up, pulse-raising.

Moments later, Charles catches you trying to leave the apartment while attempting not to make a sound, holding a duffel bag in your left hand. It is very dark, and all the lights are turned off.

—What's going on? —he asks you, a bit sleepy, taking you by surprise.

—I have to leave —he notices how serious your voice sounds.

—You know you can trust me —Charles assures you, detecting this was different; this was deep.

 And you really, really wish you could.

—Are you in any danger? —He looks so truthfully concerned. 

If only he knew. You don't answer his question.

—I can go with you! —He offers you when he glimpses you moving towards the door; he is so pure. Of course, you don't want him near all this!

You deny with your head and start heading down the hallway; he follows you up close.

—Charles —you turn to stop him. He looks taken by how harshly you act. He has never seen you like this before. —Give me time, just trust me. I will let you know —you recover your composure. —Listen, I won't be around for a bit. Only Sam knows. Just don't mention anything of this to anyone, word? Can I trust you? Charles, can I trust you with this?

—Word, yes, yes, of course. Y/N, take care, please —he grabs your hand, and you squeeze his.

 —See you soon.

-

Canada and Spain

You miss the two following Grand Prix without notifying anyone. 

You just disappear, taking the entire group and Toto by surprise. Sure, he was pissed you weren't answering any of his texts and calls at first, but then he got really concerned as the days passed by, and he got no news from you. He was just a day away from visiting the Interpol offices himself.

Until an envelope with a statement arrives at the FIA offices, which they make public, claiming your absence was due to business trips that you couldn't reschedule. Michael gets a variant of the same letter, which everyone buys it.

Well, almost everyone.

—Is there any word on her? —Lewis asks, still concerned, sitting at the table where all you gather behind the medical center; it doesn't matter in which paddock or circuit; it's now your official meeting spot.

Lando shakes his head. —She's not answering my texts either.

—Well, that's not new! —George jokes, lighting up the mood.

Charles remains quiet.

—It sits weird with me. Why just vanish like that? —Sebastian adds. Making himself room next to Lewis, an inch away from sitting on his lap.

—Yeah, why not answer?! —Lewis agrees.

—She didn't mention anything to me —Sam lies as Carlos's eyes set on her.

—For sure she is very busy! It's just a pair of business trips, guys! Why are we all concerned about this? —Charles sells them the idea.

—Maybe, yeah —Millie enters the conversation, leaning against the building wall, arms crossed and slightly serious.

Sam looks directly at Charles, wondering if he knows.

Then Millie walks to Sam. —You are such a bad liar, auntie. Good thing they don't know you well enough —Millie whispers softly near her ear. —Whatever it's going on, I hope Y/N is okay. —Then she helps them change the subject. —SO, MICK'S BIRTHDAY PARTY? Strip club or what?!

-

Belgium

A very tired-looking you sip a cup of hot tea in a manor miles away, inside what once was a drawing room centuries ago, getting comfortable in that bulky armchair, rubbing your bare feet against the large hand-knotted rug on the floor.

Along with your bedroom, this is your favorite room; you never tire of looking up at the vaulted ceilings, painstakingly hand-painted with murals of the Wallonia flora, fauna, and bird life. A beautiful, old, large chandelier hangs at the center, sparkling on the walls.

A massive window overlooks the back garden and into the forest, currently hiding behind thick fog. You try to get warm with the crackling fire on the period-style fireplace handmade with the finest marble; the weather was brutally cold that morning, which didn't lift your mood. 

14-foot-high mirrors and wood panels cover the walls, and antiques and paintings give character to the room. You know every piece by heart and all its stories. They were your company most of the time.

All you wished at the moment was Toto's embrace to keep you from this cold and to chat with Charles instead of that bust of Ser Everard, which makes you sound more delulu than usual.

You miss the paddock buzz and your friends' laughs filling the air instead of this dead quietness.

-

He looks at you from afar, leaning his fit body against the big double door frame of the drawing room, with compassionate eyes, knowing quite well you wish you weren't there. 

You look sad, but there is little he could do. He was happy to have you back at the house where you once belonged, even if your heart and mind were elsewhere.

-

He kept this room as you left it and asked his staff not to move a single thing. When you entered it for the first time after a while, you felt like you had left yesterday. It was preserved in time like one of those time capsules or like a museum.

There has been so much going on that you two barely had time to talk. It was better that way. You don't lie to him, but you don't feel like letting him know about your place in Monaco; he still thinks you are staying at Sam's or sharing any details about your new life with him. 

Then you notice him standing there looking at you; that man has the skills of a cat.

—Ready, mon cher? —he asks you softly.

—YES! Super ready!

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