#he would be so perfect for apex

[valsilverhand-archive]

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[itspileofgoodthings]

I don’t even fully know why but “what do I do when I miss you so much?” / “Just wait, and pray desperately” was a knife to my heart in the best way.

[tac-the-unseen]

Slapping Slasher's Ass and Running away!

Micheal Myers:

•He likes to believe he has complete control over his surroundings 

•He likes to imagine himself as a Jaguar; opportunistic, stealthy, adaptable, and an Apex predator

•And then there's you, here to snap them back to reality 

•If he's a Jaguar, you're an annoying bird that follows him 

•All this made clear when He's just standing in the kitchen and feels a hard smack on his Ass

•He whips his head around to see you, running at full speed and giggling 

•For a moment he's completely stunned 

•But only for a moment 

•He’s quick on your heels 

•In less than 10 seconds he's holding you in the air by your shirt, like holding a cat by its scruff

•You can immediately tell through the mask how pissed he is

•But for a few seconds he just leaves you suspended in the air, and soon enough he makes his decision. 

•He walks to your shared bedroom and drops you onto the bed

•You think you're in for some sexy-funtime

•That quickly washes away when Michael turns around and walk out the door 

•When you get up to follow you find that he's locks you in by putting a chair under the handle 

•This man is so sick of your shit, but loves you too much to actually harm you

•He just put you in time out while he waits for the stinging on his ass to go away

Billy loomis & Stu macher:

•When the school day ends you're walking towards the front door, you spot both of your boyfriends walking towards the door too

•With the coast clear of teachers and most other students you knew what you had to do

•You rub your hands together diabolically and begins to run towards them

•when you're finally in the perfect position, you wind your hands back and as hard as you can, you slap their ass

•They both tense up and freeze

•When they see you running past them and laughing, they are quick to give chase

•They Chase you down the field and into the parking lot

•Stu was the one to tackle you onto the grass, making sure to protect your head when you fall

•Stu pins you down while Billy catches up 

•When (a winded) Billy reaches you two he drops to his knees and starts tickling you

•Neither boy takes to seriously and think it's a playful invention to rough house and playfully fight

Thomas Hewitt:

•While he was meticulously cutting up some cow legs, you spotted a golden opportunity 

•Thom’s fat ass in perfect position 

•After circling him, carrying the same box of tools, you decide to go for the kill

•”Tommy!” You shout while running past him

•Your hand makes firm contact with the side of his rear 

•You leave a blazing trail up the stairs while Thom processes what happened

•Thom watches you run away while his ass stings 

•At most he's confused 

•He just goes back to work 

Bubba Sawyer:

•You were playing with him outside

•Running around, picking flowers, picking up pebbles, roughhousing

•While play fighting you slap is ass and run away hoping he would chase you

•instead he stands for confused 

•after an awkward couple seconds, you realize he's not going to chase you, So you walk back to him 

•You ask if He's okay and realize his eyes is watering 

•After a frantic apology and check over You managed to figure out that he's not hurt 

•Bubba Just associates spanking with being bad/bad behavior 

•He was upset because he thought you were punishing him for being too rough 

•You made it up to him by making him a flower crown 

Bo Sinclair:

•This could go one of two ways

•He could be really into it OR he could freak out

•It depends on what mood you catch him in

•One day he'll think it's sexy and want you to do it again 

•The next he'll have a PTSD attack remembering his childhood 

•It's honestly best if you keep your hands to yourself

Vincent Sinclair:

•He honestly thought you did it by accident 

•He didn't understand that you were trying to play 

•He didn't react at all 

•You have to tell him what you're trying to do 

•He gets very embarrassed about not understanding that he kind of shut down for the day 

•He remains hunched over on his desk for the rest of the day 

Lester Sinclair:

•It honestly doesn't matter what you do to Lester, He's just happy you're giving him attention 

•The man is the definition of a puppy 

•He's just happy to be here 

•So if you want to play a game of Chase, He’lll Chase

•As soon as you slap and run away he's hot on your heels 

•He chases you through a field and down the roads 

•When he catches you he's out of breath and takes a second to dry heave 

•Then he'll hug and kiss you while walking back to the Truck 

Billy Lenz:

•Billy is one of the characters you Can not hit

•You think he'd be into to quick slap, but he has the opposite reaction 

•He thinks you're planning on hurting him And will either attack you or hide 

•If he chooses to attack, You're likely going to have to hold him down until he calms 

•If he hides, leave him alone

•trying to find him would be like walking into a coyote's den

•eventually he'll come back out because you're the only person that still talks to him 

•He figures it's better to be physically abused than be lonely 

•Good luck explaining that it was just a joke 

Brahms Heelshire:

•He was acting up after you told him the grocery boy was coming today

•He was whining about how you don't need to interact with him and how the help shouldn't be seen or heard

•You remind them that you're technically ‘the help’ and he pouts on the couch 

•When the doorbell rings he immediately jumps up to try to stop you 

•You have a light bulb moment

•You get closer, reach around, and slap his ass

•You almost immediately push past him to run to the door 

•Brahms is quick to follow, but not quick enough

•You swing open the door before Brahms can reach you

•He hides just in time, and proceeds to stew behind the door.

Hannibal Lecter:

•While he was cooking up some breakfast you come up behind him and hug him

•He greets you and continues to cook 

•You two have a lazy conversation while you lean your head against his shoulders 

•Deciding he's not pay enough attention to you come up with a plan

•You steal one of his knives, slap his ass, and bolt out of the kitchen 

•He gives you about a 5-second Head start before he begins his hunt 

•In that time He turns off the stove and allows himself time to find you

•He slowly starts his prowl 

•Checking doors, behind furniture, around the stairs, and behind curtains 

•When he finds you, he pounces and pulls you into a pinning hug

•He forces the knife from your hand and kisses your forehead

•”Let me finish breakfast, then I'll spend time with you.”

Will Graham:

•While on the world's most boring fishing trip (Will Even admitted this trip sucked) You watch as no lines get tugged

•board out of your mind you decide to at least mess around 

•While Will was leaning over to check his lines you slap his ass as hard as to can, which throws him into the calm river

•You howl with laughter as Will get thrown overboard 

•When he resurfaces we comes back up with a scowls on his lips, but a playful look in his eyes

•”You suck” he chuckles while you help him back in

•As soon as he's on board, he throws you into the water and laughs

The Lost Boys:

•All the boys are up for a good chase, But they all have different reactions 

•David

-Slapping David's ass takes balls

-As soon as you try to run he has you by the arm 

-He smirks and pulls you towards him

-”Oh-ho-ho, where do you think you're going?”

-If you play your cards right he'll let you go to properly chase you 

-All’s well and good before he flies at you like a hawk

•Dwayne

-He'll let you run away But as soon as you're out of sight the game is on 

-It doesn't matter where you're at 

-The boardwalk, the cave, the forest, the beach 

-He sprints and tackles you to the floor 

-”Did you honestly believe you could outrun a vampire?” He muses

-could turn playful, could turn romantic 

•Paul

-as soon as your hand collides with his ass, he shrieks 

-He playful pretends he's wounded 

-He writhes on the ground, cries fake tears, hand over forehead

-”Why should you do this to me!” 

-”I thought you loved me!” 

-Walks around all day telling his brothers that you abuse him 

-gives you love bites while telling his tale of woe 

•Marko

-when you slap his ass he lets out a moan that causes both of you to freeze 

-after a few seconds Marko whips around 

-”Tell no one.” He says in a completely serious voice 

-You know for a fact the others would make fun of him for the rest of his unnatural life 

-Every time you're behind him, he turns around to face you So it never happens again

Thanks for reading <3

Sorry this took so long! I've had a busy week!

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[12:41 pm]

(cw: f!reader, a child, pregnancy complications, "Mommy" and "daddy")

"Mommy is tired?" dad!Jaehyun heard his little girl ask.

"A little bit, princess. The baby is getting bigger so Mommy just needs to lay down more, but she's not sleeping," Jaehyun explains in a sweet voice, pushing her unruly hair away from her face.

This was tough to explain to a 4 year old. Your first pregnancy had been a breeze compared to this one. Your first pregnancy almost five years ago came with some nausea that plagued you for the first few months, labor was long and arduous, but there was nothing that really hindered you from going about life as normal as possible. This pregnancy wasn't the same.

This time around you came down with gestational high blood pressure, which at your last appointment didn't look to be getting much better, so your doctor had put you on bed rest. You were doing your part by taking your medication daily and staying off your feet, but man was this a pain. You hated laying around and doing nothing, especially when your need to nest was nagging at you. You hated it, but you also knew that you wanted to avoid the induction being too early.

Jaehyun grabbed some food from the fridge and played it for you, lunch time. A healthy meal that he himself knew didn't sound super delicious, but he was being just as cautious as you were, if not more. "Let's take Mommy her lunch, princess," Jaehyun told his daughter.

She squealed excitedly, running to the bedroom with her Belle costume swishing around her legs. She pushed the door open and ran to the bed, climbing up onto the foot of the bed before settling beside you. Jaehyun smiled at the sight of his two girls. You were sat up against the headboard, folding laundry- which you had insisted on doing, Jaehyun didn't want you lifting a single finger, but you were stubborn.

"Lunch time, my love," Jaehyun smiled, walking over to you and handing you the plate. He tried not to laugh as your face scrunched up into a look of disappointment and smidge of disgust.

You stabbed the fork into the food and sighed before bringing the food to your mouth. If the bed rest worked, you'd be back on your feet in a week. Your doctor wanted to see if the bed rest would prove useful paired with the medication she'd put you on. You couldn't speak without the medical knowledge she'd possessed, but your blood pressure was going down and staying consistent. Your legs weren't as swollen and when Jaehyun took your blood pressure each morning it wasn't as high and remained consistent.

"I gave you your medication this morning right?" Jaehyun asked while holding up the pill bottle.

You hummed in agreement, swallowing your food, "as if you'd let me forget. I took it with a whole glass of water and ate it with my avocado toast. Hey, have you not been doing her hair? She looks like the brush hasn't touched her hair since I brushed it after her bath last night."

Jaehyun looked away, avoiding your gaze. Doing his daughter's hair wasn't a skill he had perfected yet. So yes, you were right, a brush hadn't touched her hair since last night. On the other hand, everything else had been taken care of. Your daughter didn't spend the whole day in her pajamas, she was dressed in real clothes, even if her Belle costume covered it up, she had brushed her teeth this morning, already eaten two meals today, and Jaehyun had her practice writing her name. On all levels, besides hair, he was killing it.

"Bring me the brush and some rubber bands please," you asked him sweetly, using your hand to tame the hair on the little girl's head.

He raised a brow, "finish your lunch and then I'll get you what you asked for."

You rolled your eyes, stabbing the fork into the food more harshly with a look that asked 'happy?' Your daughter turned her eyes away from the show on the TV and rubbed your belly, placing a small kiss on the apex. "Sister is making you tired, Mommy?" she asked, laying her head on your stomach.

You sighed tiredly, "yeah, princess. We don't want sister to get here too early so the doctor says I have to rest."

"But I want sister here already," she tells you with a pout.

Jaehyun takes the now empty plate from you while you brush your fingers gently brush through some of the tangles in her hair. "If the baby comes early, she won't be healthy, princess. We want her to be healthy right?"

"Yes," she sighs out, "Mommy, can you do my hair? Daddy doesn't know how."

Jaehyun rolls his eyes as he hands you the things you asked for, watches as his daughter willingly lets you comb the tangles from her hair gently, and watches as your fingers work deftly to braid it away from her face. He loves it.

He presses a kiss to your stomach, not trying very hard to keep the words that slip from his lips low and quiet, "if you want to give us a surprise and come out as a boy, that's fine. I'll still love you. Save me."

When two similar slaps to his arm come at the same time he can't help but laugh, if he's surrounded by girls that act like you and are the perfect mix of your genetics, he'd die a happy man.

[ellecdc]

Poly moonwater or marauders (up to you! I can see both being cute, though marauders would be interesting since theyre all gryffindors) x a partner who thinks snakes are the cutest, and has a really big python of her own? And she often takes it on “walks” (walking outside while the snake is lounging on her arms to get some sun) or chills in her room with the snake just resting on or beneath her robes (calmer snakes in my experience love to slither up sleeves and wrap around abdomens and collars)? My snake loves doing that, and sometimes it gives people a fright haha. My snake is quite large, but just the cutest and most curious thing, she’s helped many of my friends get over a minor phobia before. She also contracts her muscles (not enough to hurt) when wrapped around a hand, which feels like a little hug. LOL sorry for rambling, I love my sweet baby (5 foot long apex predator) so much. Bonus points if reader is very sweet and smiley, just the last person you’d expect to have a big “scary” snake.

this was such a cute and funny request. and, funnily enough, almost immediately after I received it I started seeing this creator with her snake on TikTok and was like "this is perfect!!!"

poly!marauders x whimsical!reader who apparently has a pet snake that her boyfriends didn't know about

CW: fem!reader, reader has hair she can put up in a bun, best friend Barty being a fucking menace, snakes?

Remus let out a breath of relief when he finally made out your form sitting contently under a tree on the castle grounds with your face shoved in a book.

He couldn’t help but worry about you a little bit; he worried about James and Sirius too, mind you, but something about you struck him as a little too pure, a little too lovely to be navigating this scary world on your own.

He knew you could, he just didn’t think you should have to.

It appeared Sirius and James were just as grateful at locating you when Sirius took off in a run to join your little makeshift picnic.

Remus almost felt bad for the interruption of what was likely a very peaceful sanctuary you had built for yourself. But knowing you, you’d be just as happy to have them join you.

Your smile at Sirius’ form as he made it to your blanket let Remus know he was quite right in his prediction.

“Hi Siri!” You greeted tranquilly, causing James to let out a small breath of awe as he all but dragged Remus the rest of the way over to you. 

“Hey Angel!” James called to you as Remus offered you an apologetic smile turned grimace. 

“Do you mind if we join you?” Remus had the grace to ask.

“Of course not; I’d love it if you did.” You responded quickly, shifting over to make room for them all on your blanket.

“Of course you’d be so gracious; our sweet girl.” Sirius cooed at you, but as he went to pull you towards him by your shoulders, he let out an embarrassing shriek as he launched himself away from you. 

“Godric’s saggy balls, Pads; what is the problem?” James asked bemusedly as he took over Sirius’ now vacated spot beside you.

“She’s got a sodding snake in her hair!” Sirius screeched as he pointed at you.

James’ head whipped back towards you to see that, sure enough, there was a medium sized snake seemingly almost curled up in your messy bun.

“Don’t move, Angel.” James said seriously as he stood carefully and brandished his wand. “I’ll get it off of you.”

“Oh, there’s no need, James. She’s very docile.” You said simply as if you hadn’t just scared the living daylights out of your boyfriends.

“Docile!?” Sirius bellowed at the same time as James questioned “she?” 

Remus smirked at his boyfriends’ theatrics, though felt momentarily ashamed he hadn’t realised you owned a snake, or…had a snake friend.

“Is she your pet, dove?” He asked finally, fighting the urge to grimace as the snake curled further around your bun and moved its head to sit at your temple. 

“Yes; her name is Tinkerbell.”

“Tinkerbell?!” James and Sirius chorused.

Remus chuckled at the boys letting their Pureblood show. “Like the fairy from Peter Pan?”

He was rewarded with a pleased smile as you moved your eyes back towards him. “Exactly.”

“How long have you been living with a snake?” Sirius asked severely, causing Remus to nudge him with his knee warningly.

“Barty got her for me for my birthday.” You responded simply.

“You’ve had that thing for months?” James asked, finally earning a swat from Remus.

“She’s not a thing, Jamie.” You gently chided, offering the snake your finger who wrapped her head around it reminding Remus of a cat rubbing up against their owner's leg. “I’m surprised you haven’t seen her before; she’s almost always with me.”

Sirius just let out another horrified squawk as Remus fought the urge to let out a full body shiver.

“You carry… Tinkerbell around with you often?” He queried carefully.

You hummed in acknowledgement as your hand fell back to your book. “She usually wraps around my elbow under my robes, but lately she’s enjoyed nesting in my hair. I think maybe now that it’s getting warmer, she likes to sit in the sun.”

“We really need to talk to Junior about gifting our Angel with dangerous animals.” James muttered quietly to Remus and Sirius as your attention turned towards the devil your best friend himself.

“Hi Treasure! Hi Tink!” Barty called you you; his voice raising an octave when greeting your reptilian friend.

Remus winced when he noticed a slightly larger snake hung casually over Juniors shoulders that seemed to be considering the group as they approached.

“Introducing your sweet girl to the boys?” He asked as he sat beside you on the blanket; speaking about your three boyfriends as if they weren’t there.

“Yes. I don’t think it’s gone particularly well, admittedly.” You responded serenely, reaching out to gently boop Barty’s snake’s nose with your finger. 

“It’s going fine.” Sirius argued; never willing to show signs of weakness in front of a Slytherin. 

Unfortunately for Sirius, Barty seemed to call his bluff. “You’re not afraid of a little old snake, are you Black?”

Sirius scoffed derisively. “I go to school with enough of them, don’t I?”

“Okay, why don’t you pet Mr. Smee here then?” Barty taunted, holding out his large reptilian friend to Sirius. “He won’t bite.” He promised with a Cheshire cat smile.

Sirius looked at Barty sceptically before his eyes nervously darted towards you. 

“Mr. Smee is very friendly, Siri.” You encouraged.

Sirius tried to smile at you before he returned his stormy eyes to Barty. “I don’t make it a habit of petting slimy animals, Junior.”

Barty scoffed as he rolled his eyes. “He’s not slimy, Black; he’s scaley.”

Seemingly pacified, Sirius reached out a cautious hand towards Mr. Smee.

Sirius made a garbled heaving sound as he slowly pulled his hand away from the snake's body where strings of slime connected his fingers to the reptile.

“He is slimy!”

“That’s because I soaked him in slime!” Barty cackled. “You’re so easy, Black. Gods, I should spend more time with the lot of you; this was fun.”

And with that, Barty stood from the blanket, kissed Tinkerbell on the head and then pressed one to your head as well before he skipped off.

“He’s a real menace.” James grumbled as Sirius transfigured a piece of paper into a paper towel and wiped at the slime on his fingers.

“I thought that was very brave of you, Sirius.” You praised him, and almost all of the contempt colouring Sirius’ face faded away as he looked at you lovingly.

“Thanks dolly.”

Thankfully, Tinkerbell remained content in your hair, and the boys remained content pretending there wasn’t a snake on their girlfriend’s head for the rest of the afternoon.

[tomasweetheart]

FAVORITE ࿔*:･ﾟ

꒰ m. osamu x gn!reader ꒱

° sypnosis: what's osamu's favorite food?

° warning: SMUT 18+ MINORS DNI!!, post-timeskip, it's gender neutral but reader has a vagina, cursing, osamu calls reader: sweet thing, pretty & baby, oral (reader receiving), munch!osamu, cunnilingus, slight overstim at the end

° notes: DON'T LOOK AT MEEEEE!!!!!

Osamu swears up and down that he does not have a favorite food.

They are all equally delicious to him, every bite of every dish he tastes dances on his tongue with a new partner each time. Whether it be an elegant waltz from the caviar served at his brother's wedding, a playful jig from a bite from the plastic dish of dippin’ dots he got for nostalgia’s sake or the quick-paced two-step from the baked mac ‘nd cheese his Ma makes for every family picnic. It’s baffling that anyone would ever expect him to pick a favorite.

This is the socially acceptable answer. This is what he tells Atsumu when he asks for reference. This is what he tells his customers if they even suggest that onigiri is his favorite. This is his go to, but the truth?

Osamu’s favorite food is the one buried deep between the apex of your thighs. 

Just like every good dish, this one has to be prepared with love and care. It starts off tender, it always does with him. Slow, messy, desperate kisses with gentle nips at your bottom lip. His hands graze up and down your sides, before ultimately landing on your hips with a soft squeeze. Your skin feels so warm, so plush and right against the skin of his own hands. Rough from volleyball, fights with Tsumu and endless days molding his rice into perfect triangles. 

His lips move down, pressing messy open-mouth kisses against your jaw. Stopping at the junction that connects your jaw to your neck, sucking a deep hickey before continuing his journey. His hands travel up your shirt, but that’s as far as they go. He’s not wasting time, not tonight. That’s not what he’s hungry for. 

He’ll nip, and suck, and bite, and kiss until you’re writhing beneath him. Not even undressed yet, but somehow you can feel him on every inch of your bare skin. He’s got you right where he wants you. 

Your skin feels so hot, you’re pulsing, throbbing with need. Your whines only spur him further as he lets out a low chuckle and a quick: “Patience sweet thing, I’m gettin’ there.” 

He fumbles with your jeans, he’s too eager now. Too impatient, he won’t wait for his food to cool down. He pulls them off with one swift movement, your underwear catching on the denim and sliding down with them. 

“You smell so fuckin’ good baby,” he purrs, his now swollen lips making quick with the way they kiss along your thighs, “Ma always told me to blow on my food if it was too hot though…” he smirks up at you, “...and I don’t wanna burn my tongue.”

He stops just short of your heat, his hand reaching out tentatively. With two fingers, he collects your slick before spreading apart your lips, putting you on full display for him. He’s practically drooling now, blowing a stream of hot air directly on your throbbing cunt, chuckling at the way you squirm from his action.

You’re cooled down enough.

Eagerly, almost animalistically, he flattens his tongue against your slit. Careful to avoid the bundle of nerves that begs for his attention so desperately. He’ll get there. He laps every inch of your folds, relishing in the way his head burns from how tightly you’re gripping his dark brown locks. His hands hold your thighs firmly in place, fingernails digging in the supple fat while he continues to eat you like a starved man.

The noises he makes are absolutely sinful. Audible slurps fill the room, his own drool coating your cunt while you plead for him to at least ghost over your clit with his mouth. But he has other plans.

He catches the bundle of nerves between his lips, and he moans, fucking moans in sync with you from your taste alone. He sucks, laps, slurps, fucking devours you whole like you’re his last meal and he’s a man on death row.

His pace doesn’t relent, he’s moaning into your pussy, he’s not even focused on himself. He’s lost, you have him hooked. He feels your thighs clamp down against his head, his tongue moves quicker inside of your tight hole before he retracts it and licks another long strip the whole way to your clit, sending you over the edge.

He gives you a moment, only a moment for you to catch your breath before he dives back in again. Laughing hoarsely against your core as you whine and try to push his head away from the overstimulation, but he won’t budge.

“Now pretty, quit squirmin’,” he groans, “I’m tryin’ ta get seconds of my favorite food.”

[lassieposting]

Been thinkin about Astarion + vampire biology so have some headcanons and the bits of game lore they're based on

Dialogue establishes that Cazador has been successfully passing himself off as a regular noble for centuries, and Astarion confirms that while he's considered a bit reclusive, he does mingle with the upper class of Baldur's Gate and has a property specifically for hosting fancy events.

Vampires are camouflage predators, whose primary hunting strategy is to blend in with their prey until the perfect time to strike. Their ecological niche is not a particularly safe or stable one - they live hidden in plain sight, usually in sizeable cities, for easy access to prey, but they know that if they are discovered they will be rooted out and killed or driven away. They are rarely able to get away with attacking in public, where city guards might rush to the aid of a screaming victim - they have to isolate their target before killing it. The ability to blend in, to be overlooked by their target, until it is too late is essential.

Cazador is, as far as we know, the only true vampire in Baldur's Gate

This is because true vampires are aggressively territorial. Like most apex predators, they eat a lot, and need substantial territories to support them - even moreso if they have a partner or spawns. Ascendant!Astarion would need to hold onto the entire city, as Cazador did, to be able to feed himself and Tav without raising suspicion.

True vampires are relatively rare, but there are more of them than there are cities, so it's not uncommon for one to set up in an occupied city and try to oust the sitting resident. The challenger usually believes himself to be as strong or stronger than the current tenant: these territorial disputes usually end in at least one death, so they're not to be entered into lightly.

Astarion is very obviously a vampire: his fangs are visible, as are his bite scars; he's so pale multiple people comment on it; his eyes are red, etc.

Astarion is not a healthy vampire.

This is a man who has been kept on the knife's edge of starvation and tortured regularly for 200 years, and to another vampire, that would be clear from the state of him: Astarion is a camouflage predator who is so malnourished he is no longer able to blend in.

Tav will get an up-close look at his transformation over the course of the game and during the years afterwards: the more healthy and well-fed Astarion becomes, as his body catches up on its immense energy deficit and begins to recover, the better he will be able to mimic a living elf. His skin will be able to bleed, or blush, or bruise, none of which he's capable of while actively starving. Hia fangs will retract until he needs them, not invisible but less obvious - having them out all the time is a response to severe deprivation; he's so hungry his body can't risk losing prey to the split second it takes Cazador to snatch a rat back, so he's permanently in bite mode, hyperaware, ready to strike. Some body functions will come online that he didn't even know he had, the ones that are supposed to help him blend in - his eyes will start producing pigment to look darker, less scarlet and more burgundy, to be more easily mistaken for brown; his lungs will make him breathe automatically even though he doesn't need it, he'll start being able to eat normal food without getting sick again, though he still won't get any nourishment from it; he'll heal faster. He'll even be able to get drunk, though he'll burn through it very quickly. As it stands, all those extra systems have been shut down by his starving body - they're useful, but nonessential, and he needs every single bit of energy funnelled into just keeping him alive and functional.

There is probably an intentional bit of psychological warfare against the spawns on Cazador's part here - him starving them strips them of their natural defences, and every time he makes them leave the mansion to hunt, they have to do so knowing that they're poorly hidden and vulnerable. But it's established that true vampires treating their spawn poorly or outright abusing them is A Thing, so it's not the only reason - he sees them as property rather than people, he keeps them weak so they won't plot against him, he's acting out his own trauma from Vellioth on them, he just wants to - but it does feed into it.

Astarion can, at one point, identify old blood as belonging to the player character. He also gets excited at another point if an enemy character runs away, stating, "Now it's a hunt."

He says that "even stale, [he'd] recognise that bouquet anywhere." This confirms a few things for us:

He has a vastly superior sense of smell capable of identifying individuals by scent and - since he can tell who the blood belongs to even after some time has passed - following scent trails.

This confirms that although city-dwelling vampires may primarily hunt via luring a victim to a secondary location before killing it, they still have the "stalk down and chase" predator instinct. Since Astarion can't lure wildlife anywhere, this is almost certainly how he's been hunting to supplement his diet when he's not using the player as his personal caprisun.

The fact that he can scent out prey before killing it means he has this ability all the time - he can smell blood while it's still safely inside the owner's body.

So scent is probably relevant to how vampires process the world. The more time each companion spends with him, the more he gets used to their scent, starts associating it more with safety and camaraderie than with a potential meal, and so he becomes more relaxed around them. As he learns to link the player's scent with love and comfort and trust, the more likely he is to retreat to their tent over his own when he's injured or afraid or having a trauma moment. When he's fond of someone, something of theirs will go conveniently missing - he's moving their scent into his little safe space, it's comforting for him. He can tell when his lover is hurt or aroused or frightened - though not which of the three applies - from a distance, because his sense of smell can pick up the spike of adrenaline rushing into their bloodstream.

But that also means that he can never feel like he's got any distance from Cazador while he's living in the mansion - even if the man isn't in the same room, the entire place reeks of him, and it makes Astarion feel like Cazador is breathing down his neck all the same. Ascendant Astarion would have a really, really hard time sticking it out in that mansion with stale Eau de Cazador all over the place. It means that he's put instantly on edge by the faint scent of one of his siblings as he walks through the lower city - when seven vicious, territorial apex predators are confined to a single small dormitory, several hours a day, seven days a week, 365 days a year, fights are going to be nasty and frequent, and although Cazador wouldn't allow them to kill each other, considering how many of his siblings refer to him as weak or a runt, Astarion probably didn't win them very often. So. Having a highkey advanced sense of smell is a mixed bag.

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

.⋆｡Take Care of Her for Me｡⋆.

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x plus size reader x Johnny ‘Soap’ MacTavish

Simon is a bad man. He’s rough and dark and his little bird is far too good for him, that’s why he gives Johnny her first

Warnings: virgin!reader, threesome, bit of soap x ghost, SMUT, size kink, voyeurism, grinding, literally ‘just the tip’, use of y/n, tiny bit of Simon being insecure, reader and Simon live together, drinking, some guilt, loss of virginity, birth control mention, m masturbation, unprotected sex, possibility for whole 141 fun WC: 5.2k

Minors DNI

A/N: I know it's my birthday but I hope you guys enjoy this gift for you!

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

“Oh.” The word escaped her swollen lips involuntarily and Simon bit back the urge to wince. Her eyes were as wide as dinner plates, her hands trembling as she sat back on her heels. “I didn’t…” She trailed off.

Simon cupped her full cheek, guiding her gaze back up to him. “I told you I wasn’t exactly small. We don’t have to, not if you aren’t ready.” She nodded absentmindedly then seemed to catch herself and shook her head.

“No, no I’m ready. It’s just- you’re so big, I don’t think you’ll fit.” Her head tilted cutely as she nuzzled into his naked palm, soaking up all the skin he let her feel. Her delicate hands moved away from the band of his black sweatpants and instead clung to his meaty thighs. His cock throbbed where it lay on his stomach, the tip already leaking just from his sweet little bird pulling him out.

Her thick body fit perfectly between his legs, her shoulders holding his knees apart as she knelt on the floor in front of their plush couch. Her sleep shirt had already been shed, leaving her in just a bra and panties that had Simon’s mind going fuzzy with arousal. “You’ve barely fit two fingers in me,” she muttered wistfully, her thick lashes fluttering, “this is.. a lot. But I wanna try, for you.”

Simon’s hold suddenly turned firm as an image of her sprawled out on their bed, whimpering and whining, tears rolling down her cheeks as he back arched desperately all while he forced himself into her tight cunt. He cleared his throat, forcing himself to keep a level head. “No birdie, not for me. This is all about you.” He released her cheek in favour of leaning forwards and wrapping his arms around her, pulling her into his lap.

He shuddered as her soft backside rubbed against his cock so he quickly readjusted his hips to tug his sweats back on properly. She watched him with a pout which he kissed away. “Can we at least try tonight? You already ate me out before dinner and played with me during the movie. Maybe I can suck you off? I might be able to fit you in my mouth.”

“Are you tryin ta fucking kill me?” He groaned, his self-control beginning to wane. 

She snuggled into his chest, her nails gently trailed down his front as she shrugged. “Want to make you feel good too, even if you can’t quite fuck me yet.” Simon sighed.

He knew how eager she was for him, her fuck-me eyes were almost constant whenever he was home from deployment. If it were any other circumstance, he would bully his cock into her perfect cunt without another thought but his birdie was a virgin and he had made a promise to himself a long time ago that he would never cause her pain in any way. Simon was not a good man but for her, he wanted to be better.

“Alright, we can try something.” Her yelp made him smirk as he stood up abruptly, keeping her firmly in his arms. 

“Simon!” Her arms flew around his neck, bouncing with each step he took up the stairs. 

Her laughs quickly turned into moans as he dropped her on the king size bed, his weight keeping her whole body pinned to the duvet, his lips descending on her neck. “Fuck Si.” This time, it was her legs that parted, allowing his body to slip between them. She could feel the warmth of his cock even through their clothes, throbbing and hot with the promise of what the apex of her thighs contained. 

His hand wormed its way between their bodies, thick fingers thrummed against her mound. This was normal, expected, the roughness and desperation of his touch a welcome salve to her overheated skin. A brief distraction from just how fucking horny he made her. He plucked at the band of her panties as his lips collided with hers. Their teeth clacked together with the force of his kiss, the muscles along his spine rippling beneath her fingers like he were a wolf, ready to take down his prey.

The fist planted by her head curled into the pillow as she nipped at his bottom lip all while her hips rolled into his hand, begging him to keep going, to finally give in to what he had been dangling in front of her for months. “Please,” she whined, nails digging into his back, “please I need more.” 

Electricity shot through her as his hips jerked forwards, his hard cock bumping against her neglected clit. “Fuck.” He growled, pulling back just enough to shuck the rest of their clothes off before he was right back on top of her, now nothing between them.

His cock early nestled against her folds, sliding up and down with every small movement he made. “Just the tip birdie, ‘m gonna give you just the tip.” But his promise rang hollow, his voice already dropped low and coated with his darkest desires. 

One of her legs wrapped around his thigh as he slowly pulled back, positioning his uncut head at her entrance. “Just the tip.” He spoke almost to himself and gently pressed forwards.

Y/N threw her head back, her mouth dropping open. A breath escaped her and Simon groaned. She was far tighter than he could have ever imagined, even with his head barely halfway in. Her leg squeezed around him as her back lifted from the bed. All Simon wanted to do was to keep going, force himself into her like he craved but he grabbed onto the frayed edges of his mind with the last of his restraint.

Just as the tip finally, finally breached her warmth, she found her words. “Too much, too much.” Suddenly her nails in his back, her face pressing into the pillow, her tensed legs were not her mounting desire but all blaring sirens that sent a shot of panic down his spine. 

A single tear rolled down her cheek before he came back into himself with a jolt. “Fuck, fuck.” He grabbed her thigh with a deathly grip, keeping her still as he dragged his hips back and regretfully left the heaven he had almost found. Her body relaxed into the bed spread as soon as she was empty again, her hold on his back waning but her touch remained on his tattooed skin. 

“Stay there.” Her whine of protest made his stomach drop but Simon still stood from the bed and made a b-line to the bathroom. He kept his eyes down, avoiding his own reflection as best he could while wetting one of the washcloths from the shelf next to the sink. He already knew exactly what he would see if he looked up and right now, he could pretend that monstrous reflection wasn’t him because she needed Simon, not Ghost.

By the time he slipped back into the room, she was already beneath the covers, the bedside lamp had been turned on, warding off the encroaching darkness. Her smile was hazy and small but it was genuine and Simon breathed a sigh of relief. She lifted the blanket for him to slip in beside her, an invitation he didn’t think he could ever refuse.

The smell of sweat and laundry detergent and something that was uniquely her enveloped him as he curled his massive body around her soft one, cradling her to his chest all while he wiped away the soreness from her. Her head fell to the crook of his neck, brushing her nose against his pulse. 

The washcloth landed in the hamper with a dull plop, sparking a small giggle from the woman before it was muffled as Simon pulled them both down onto their backs.

“I’m sorry I scared you Si.” 

“Can never scare me love, yer just a little puppy.” She lavished him with a glare but still sagged down onto his chest, letting out a little sigh.

“‘M scary.” Simon just scoffed and kissed the top of her head as he clicked off the lamp.

“Very scary.”

——————

The pub was mostly empty by now, leaving only the five of them in a booth in the back and a couple stragglers by the bar.  Y/N was wedged between Simon and Gaz, drunkenly giggling at a story she’s heard ten times before though Simon figured she was laughing at Johnny rather than with him, his accent almost too thick to even understand at this point. Price had just sat back down, delivering the last round of drinks for the night onto the sticky table.

“And then the nun fell off the bike.” John finished the story for him with a roll of his eyes. “Are you ever going to come up with anything new?” 

“My stories are great! Birdie thinks so, she laughs at them every time!” Johnny’s arm swung across the table, almost knocking over Gaz’s pint. 

“Steady on Soap.” He warned, making Y/N giggle again, undermining the Scot’s point entirely.

Simon hooked a broad arm over her shoulder, tugging her closer to his as he glowered at the younger man. “You don’t get to call her Birdie. ’Specially not after you destroyed the front lawn trying to show off on MY motorbike.” But Johnny just scoffed and sipped at his beer, shooting a wink in the woman’s direction. 

“I think I did ya a favour, those peonies were atrocious. Weren’t they lassie?” She turned her face into Simon’s arm in some vain attempt to keep back the heat that rose to her cheeks at the sudden attention from Johnny. Her fingers curled into the lapels of his jacket in a much too similar manner to how she would cling to him when Simon decided to torture her with his lips and words. 

His right eye twitched imperceptibly. 

“‘Sides they came with the house didn’t they? Ya needed a remodel.” Price snorted into his whiskey but it was Y/N who spoke up.

“I liked those flowers, they were the most ugly shade of orange.” Johnny’s smirk turned into something softer, something sappy and wholly foreign on the young soldier. His blue eyes, though dark with his drunkenness, sparkled under the dim lighting of the bar. Simon knew that look because it was the same one he held everyday since she had stumbled into his life and his heart. But where he expected jealousy, rage, at his lieutenant for even daring to look at his birdie like that, all he felt was a bubbling warmth deep in his stomach.

Gaz slipped from the booth, muttering something under his breath about a smoke, Price following quickly behind him, shooting a look at Simon before they disappeared through the front door. Without missing a beat, Johnny slithered his way into the now vacant seat beside Y/N, propping himself up far closer than would be considered friendly.

“Then how ‘bout I come over and plant ya some new ones.” Simon was sitting so close to her, he could feel the way her plush thighs clenched together as her breath hitched. “How bout it hen?” He purred, the alcohol on his breath strong but it was nothing compared to the weight of his gaze as it slowly trailed down her form, then turned to Simon. 

“Think you’ve had enough MacTavish.” Simon growled, suddenly breaking Johnny from his trance. The man reared back like he had been burnt, ripping himself from the booth with a stumble. His eyes were wide with panic, his voice and hands shaky.

“Sorry hen, think L.T.’s right, I should probably get home. G’night.” He was out the door before either of them could think to protest, even living behind his beloved leather jacket on the seat. 

Simon tucked Y/N closer to his side, laying a kiss on her head. “I’ll call us a cab.”

By the time the taxi had dropped them home, Simon and Y/N had almost completely sobered up though they were each still buzzing from the night. He had been quiet the entire ride, his eyes pensive and thoughtful but as soon as the cab vanished down the dark driveway, something inside him snapped. A strong arm was wrapped firmly around her thick waist, keeping her upright as he kissed along her exposed neck, the black medical mask he had been wearing for the night hanging over just one of his ears. Her keys rattled against the lock, quickly getting lost to the feeling of his lips on that one particular spot that made her body go fuzzy. 

“Si, you’re making this really hard for me.” He grunted against her skin and pushed his hips into her soft ass.

“And you’re makin’ me hard, seems fair to me.” She finally got the key in the lock just as he grabbed at the front of her jeans, his thick fingers going for the button. The door slammed against the wall but neither of them cared about a potential hole in the drywall at that moment. 

Simon grabbed her by the back of the neck and kissed her with so much force that she had to hold onto his forearms to keep from tumbling over backwards. They stumbled blindly to the couch, their lips firmly locked together all while Simon lifted her into his lap. Her thighs bracketed him as she buried her fingers into his cropped blond hair. 

“What’s gotten into you?” She gasped, pulling back just enough to fill her lungs before diving back into his embrace.

His hips bucked up into her as a hiss of words forced themselves from him. “Had a thought at the bar.” 

“Hmm?” This time, it was her lips on his throat, distracting the normally stoic man. He gripped at her ass for some semblance of control which was quickly slipping away.

“Johnny should have your first time.” All of her movements ceased. “You like him.”

“Si-“ She tried to pull herself from his arms, her cheeks heating with her shame. She couldn’t even look him in the eye.

“No. You do, it’s ok. I like em too, you aren’t special.” He teased, running his thumb along the apple of her cheek. Her breath caught. “He likes you, more than a little bit.” She shook her head firmly but Simon knew that she was thinking about it.

“You’re my boyfriend, not Soap. I want you.” His lopsided smile almost distracted her enough to kiss him again.

“I’m not gentle, not in the way you need for your first time and we both know that I’m too much for you to take. So-“

“You want me to fuck your best friend.”She finished for him. There was a beat of silence and then she pulled herself from his lap. “I don’t know about this.”

Simon stayed seated where he was but sat up fully, watching her every step as she paced around their living room. “I’ll be there too, not letting that mutt be alone with you so he can try to steal you away.” 

“Yet you’ll let him sleep with me.” His smile grew. Y/N shut her eyes and took a deep breath before a smile of her own began to bloom. “Ok, but I want you to fuck me right after.”

“That, Birdie, I can do.” With one swift movement, he yanked her back down to his lap and kissed her before he could run off and get Johnny to come over right that second. 

——————

Simon had been out of the house all day and for that, Y/N was grateful. She knew he was going to talk to Johnny today and knowing her boyfriend, that meant that tonight, she would be popping her cherry. He left with a tender albeit lust-filled kiss when he got up in the morning and a whispered promise that she should ‘get some rest’.

So she’d taken the day for herself; a long, luxurious bath in their massive tub, complete with shaving practically every inch of her body, then a nice coffee and breakfast and by lunchtime, she was deep in a book of poetry Gaz had recommended. The text arrived right when she had gotten up to make herself a cup of tea.

We’ll be home by 7.

A shiver of fear and excitement rolled up her back. This was it, after a year of taking it slow, all the angst of being with a man who was considered to be dead to everyone save for only those closest to him, and the anxiety of a multitude of ‘firsts’, finally they could take the next step. Even if they needed a bit of help.

And she certainly wasn’t opposed to the man helping her. Johnny was sweet and goofy in the best ways possible. Where Simon had been a solid wall of scars and fear, Johnny was a book that fell open the moment Simon had finally introduced them. He was easy to be around and Y/N couldn’t deny that she had gotten a small crush on the man when he tripped over himself to order her the most atrocious sounding cocktail just to get a smile out of her while she was having a terrible day. She also saw the way he made her Simon relax even through the thick shield of his mask.

She eyed the side table by the bed where she kept all her private toys but quickly dismissed that idea. Instead she wandered down the hall, intent on pouring herself a drink just to take the edge off. She could only imagine what would walk through that door.

“This punishment for flirting with your bird, Ghost?” Soap was doubled over, struggling to catch his breath with the full kit he donned plus the training dummy he had been forced to carry on his back. Ghost crossed his arms over his chest, remaining silent where he stood at the side of the field. “Look, had one too many. Can ya blame me for getting friendly with a pretty lass?” The sun was high in the sky, the temperature rising steadily but still, he had made his sergeant run laps while the newer recruits were posted with Price for the day.

The pack and dummy slid off his back, landing on the running track with a thud. “Alright, what’s really gone on? This is bigger than what happened the other night.” Ghost’s shoulders dropped as his chest heaved with a deep breath. He nodded towards the benches which Soap gladly collapsed onto. 

Silence descended on the two men as each sat with their thoughts. Johnny knew that Ghost would talk when he was ready, and he could only hope that he wouldn’t be murdered for finding his best friend’s girlfriend absolutely gorgeous.

“I want ya to fuck her.” Johnny’s neck popped with the force at which he snapped his head over to Ghost who was already looking at him. 

The rumble of a car’s engine sounded above the din of soft jazz from the speakers. Yet the house remained still, tensed for what was to come. The car door opened then slammed shut. Simon. 

The second door was much more cautious, barely making any noise when it closed, even the crickets hiding in the long grass along the drive were louder than his footsteps on the gravel. Johnny. 

Y/N smiled to herself and tugged at the silky nightgown she saved for special occasions. Already, she was trembling with excitement, arousal dripping onto her bare thighs (she thought it better to forgo panties entirely rather than have another obstacle in the way). 

“Birdie?” Simon’s voice was thick with his lust. Her fingers curled into the dress’s hem as she called back.

“‘M in the bedroom.” She hoped they heard her tone was sexy rather than the desperate whine it came out as. She readjusted herself so she sat up on her knees in the centre of the bed, a position she knew made Simon short circuit every time. There was a muffled conversation from downstairs then, the stairs creaked with the weight of both men. Y/N swallowed thickly as the footsteps paused right outside the door.

“Ghost-“

“No, hear me out. She’s-“ He scrubs a hand over his cheek, pushing his mask out of place. Johnny stays quiet. “She’s a virgin and I’m- we’ve tried but no matter what we try, it’ll just hurt her. I know how ya look at her. I know how she-“ There was a hidden ‘I’ in there as well, “looks at you. We both want this, we both want your help.” Soap folded over himself, his head falling into his hands.

“Christ Ghost.”

Simon groaned as soon as he saw her, his brown eyes almost rolling back into his skull. “You damn minx.” She half-expected him to jolt forward and sweep her into a kiss but instead, he stepped to the side, revealing a nervous Johnny who was still standing at the top of the stairs. 

“Johnny.” She smiled at him.

“Hi hen.” He took a tentative step forwards, blue eyes flicking from her to his superior, then back to her. Simon pulled the black balaclava off his head and tossed it onto the plush chair in the corner of the room. Johnny took a steadying breath before his knees brushed the side of the bed. He glanced at the larger man one more time and then he finally reached out, cupping her jaw more gently than either of them thought him capable of.

“God yer gorgeous.” Heat crawled up her neck as another drip of wetness rolled down her thigh.

“And she’s ok with this?” 

“More than you know.”

“And you?” Johnny flicked at the lighter in his hand, a nervous habit he could never quite break. Ghost eased himself back against the wall behind them, letting his eyes flutter shut.

“You know the answer to that already.”

Their first kiss was gentle, tender in a way that made her insides ache. Johnny’s lips were soft, a stark contrast to Simon’s but a welcome change nonetheless less. Y/N took his free hand into hers as she slid her fingers of her right into one of his belt loops. He made a desperate noise against her lips.

“I’ll be gentle.” He whispered, his thumb brushing the soft skin of her face. 

“I know.” The next kiss was more heated but just as caring. His touch travelled down from her face to the small of her back, the rough tips of his fingers tracing the length of her body before gently laying her down. Her nightgown slipped up her thighs as Johnny climbed between them.

The mattress by her head dipped making Y/N open her eyes. Simon sat half on the bed, his shirt already off. “Ya want Johnny ta take care of ya?” The smell of his cologne and Johnny’s sweat made her head spin. Simon tsked. “Words birdie.”

“Want him bad Si.” Johnny moaned into her neck as she ground her hips upwards, catching the bulge of his cock against her mound. He grabbed at her waist, encouraging her movement. Simon chuckled and reached between them, tugging the silky dress up and off.

Johnny’s eyes went wide. “Ya didn’t tell me just how pretty she was naked.” He cupped one of her tits, as if testing its weight in his palm. 

“I thought it should be a surprise. But you’ve imagined her like this before, haven't you MacTavish?” Instead of answering, Johnny buried his face between her tits, occupying his lips with memorising the taste of her skin. Y/N clutched at his back, her giggles interchanging with her moans. 

“Be nice Si.” She gasped as he took one of her nipples into his mouth

Simon just scoffed and leaned over, placing a kiss to her forehead before he stood up but not without a squeeze to Johnny’s shoulder. “You stop the moment she says.” He warned, earning an eye-roll from the sergeant.

“She’s in charge.” He confirmed before returning his attention back to the set of perfect tits laid out before him, this time he leaned his weight onto his right hand as his left brushed against where the ache he caused her continued to grow. He brushed her cunt with the tips of his fingers, gathering as much wetness as he could. “Shit, this really all for me?”

She bashfully turned her head into the pillow. “Don’t tease me Johnny.” So he didn’t. He caught her thrumming clit with his thumb as he eased his middle finger into her tightness. In and out, in and out, curl, in and out. 

Her whine was muffled by Simon’s groan from the other side of the room. She forced her gaze to him, only to be met with the sight of her huge boyfriend spread eagle in the chair facing the bed, his pants undone, huge cock in his hand. Already his face and chest were ruddy with a deep blush, his huge thighs tensing and intending with each upward stroke of his hand.

Johnny’s teeth sunk into the fat of her breast, distracting her from the stretch as he added a second and then a third finger. Y/N’s back arched from the bed. “Johnny-“ 

“Jus relax for me hen, let me make ya feel good.” His lips latched onto her throat, somehow finding that one spot that made her legs tremble. She grabbed at his shirt as her stomach grew tight and then, she fell.

“Fuuuuck, god please!” She moved her hips with his hand, chasing her orgasm until her cunt began to ache for something more. “Please Johnny, please I need you inside me now.” He followed her tugging hands up until he was firmly nestled against her, his shirt now off and his wet hand undoing his jeans. 

“Whatever you want hen, ‘m here for you.” Apparently Johnny had the same inclination against underwear as Simon did, his cock easily sprang free, bumping against his taut stomach. While not as big as Simon’s, Johnny was no less intimidating. Thick and cut, his head now almost a dark purple and throbbing with his eagerness to be inside her.

Something flashed in his eyes and he quickly glanced at Simon. “Condom?” Y/N pinched his chin and brought him back to face her.

“Birth control. I need you inside me. Now.” Goosebumps exploded along his arms.

“Yes ma’am.” He notched himself against her entrance and with one solid nod of consent, Johnny finally pushed into her. 

The pain was almost muted by the buzz of her orgasm but she could still feel the burn of the stretch and the small pinch at her tightest point. Her nails bit into the muscles of his shoulders but he never faltered for a second, only cooing soft words of encouragement into her ear as he rocked forwards until he was buried to the hilt. 

“Fuck.” She couldn’t even tell whose voice that was, too lost to the feeling of being so full for the first time in her life. As soon as she relaxed her grip, Johnny pulled out halfway and thrust back in as gently as he could. This feeling was so utterly foreign but so familiar, a burning heat that ignited her nerves. 

He slipped a hand beneath her raised back, letting him press in deeper, hitting a spot inside her that she never thought existed. “Thas it hen, just keep breathing. Doing so good fer me.” His accent grew thicker as he hissed, her cunt clamping down on him in a way that made his head spin.

“More.” She moaned, lifting her wide hips. Johnny obeyed immediately. 

The mattress springs groaned with each deep thrust, matching Y/N’s moaned cries. The burn had become a delicate pleasure that was quickly becoming all-consuming and it seems that the man inside her wasn’t faring much better, nor was Simon.

His head was thrown back against the top of the chair but his eyes remained on them, his eye-lids half-closed, revealing only the blackness of his pupil as he watched. His knuckles were white with how tight he held the base of his cock, trying to stave off his end until it was his turn. Johnny’s face was flushed, making his blue eyes shine even bluer. A vein on the right side of his neck pounded with his heartbeat and all Y/N wanted to do was to bite it. His abs flexed with each thrust, a rhythm that sent her up a spiral of ecstasy.

“Johnny, Johnny.” She chanted, her leg wrapping around his waist, heel against his perky ass. 

“Good girl. Takin it so good.” Suddenly, the fire burned brighter and she let it overwhelm her. “Fuck hen. Fuck, fuck, fuck!” She rippled around him, forcing his orgasm from him. 

As soon as Johnny’s body went lax above her, Simon grabbed him by the back of his neck and smashed their lips together in a borderline violent kiss. “Good lad.” He growled into his mouth as his fingers curled into his now dishevelled mohawk. He pulled Johnny backwards, his softening cock falling from her with a wet pop.

“Finally.” Y/N was suddenly flipped onto her front and before she could even get her bearings, Simon slammed into her. Even aided by her wetness and Johnny’s cum as lube, the stretch was still almost blinding. A shrill cry left her lips but it did nothing to hinder the man above her, she didn’t want it to.

He punched into her with a force that made the headboard slam into the wall, cracking the drywall. “So fuckin tight. Won’t last.” His hands clamped down on her hips, no doubt bruising them but he wouldn’t stop, not now, not when he could unleash every single drop of desire he had ever felt for her.

Warm lips kissed at her cheek and neck as Johnny’s hand pressed against her large stomach, slowly moving down to where she and Simon were connected. He strummed her overworked clit. “Fuck! Do that again.” And like the good soldier he was, Johnny obeyed his lieutenant’s orders, guiding her into yet another earth shattering orgasm.

Simon practically howled as he forced himself entirely into her before he finally filled her with everything he had. 

“Fuckin hell.” He groaned and crumbled onto the bed, a hazy smile on his face. Y/N rolled onto her side, fitting into Simon’s outstretched arms, her back to his front. 

Johnny stood at the side of the bed, still naked and awkwardly watching the couple hold each other as he was trapped feeling like an outsider even if they were only able to be like this because of him.

Without a word, she held her hand out to Johnny. He looked at it, then her, as if he were trying to defuse a bomb and not thinking about how his best friend’s girlfriend was inviting him into their bed to cuddle after he had just fucked away her virginity. Then, he took it. 

Her soft body easily moulded against him as he slipped under the covers beside her. Their legs tangled together and he rested his head on her pillow.

“Thank you for being here Johnny.” She whispered, placing a gentle kiss to his swollen lips.

“Y’know what they say, two’s a crowd, three’s company.” She rolled her eyes.

“We could always add more.” Simon teased, his arm wrapping around the sergeant’s back to draw him closer to them.

“Don’t ruin this Si.” 

“Yeah Si.” Johnny parroted.

“Watch it Soap.” He grumbled.

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[m0chisenpai]

Hi! Can you do a Armand x Fem!reader x Louis? She would be an assistant of Daniel’s. They have sorta a thing for her but are trying to ease up because she’s not as open to the whole camp thing or lowkey doesn’t believe them.

off the record

˚｡⋆ louis de pointe du lac x black!fem!reader x armand

in which Daniel neglected to coach you how to deal with the behind the scenes of the creative process

author note: I had too much fun writing this, I love the idea of this trio so much

There takes a certain level of thick skin to work for Daniel Molloy. He wasn't a terrible boss. Just a difficult old man with extremely particular needs and ways he worked. But when he found you, you were an intern with well regarded credentials and grades, but according to your counselor you were headstrong and outspoken.

He accepted your application instantly and by the next year you were his official, and most longstanding, assistant. You juggled his interviews and meetings with editors, and only recently have you begun to manage his doctors appointments.

You traveled with him, it was a non-negotiable that you were to come and expenses were covered, but Dubai was the last thing you'd expected. You’d been nearly to all the states, but for Daniel’s health anything out the country was once in a while and planned carefully.

The first night of the interview you aren’t present. Daniel can tell when he stops by your room, how your eyes droop. Your feet shuffle to greet him at the door and when you speak your words are mumbled.

He lets you sleep, but he won't say its out of care, that he's filled with guilt for dragging you into a penthouse of supernatural apex killers. "Get to sleep unless you wanna read through my mess of a notes kid." He raises a brow that you hum and nod at closing the door so you can return to the warm sheets of the bed. After that you are a fly on the wall just as he always instructed you to be.

Beside him, eyes down, fingers moving and taking notes when he mutters something to you.

Louis asks who you are on the third night, "I never took you for a man who needs help Daniel." You won't admit, but your heart picks up, but you keep yor eyes on the computer screen and let Daniel respond for you.

"Not an intern, she's one of the few ones who didn't run crying after a week working for me."

Your lips turn up at this, one of the few moments he would ever compliment you.

"She truly is like you." His eyes must be on you again, but a shiver washes dwn your spine. Like someones nail ghosts the skin on your back, trailing down your spine. And another hand, caresses the back of your neck.

"Stay out out my mind," you mumble.

"My apologies, just wanted to know about our surprise second guest." Now you dare to look up at him. Ghosts, goblins, vampires werewolves were for shows pandering toward a female audience that wanted to drool over men too beautiful and perfect to ever enter their mundane lives.

You scoff and return your focus to the notes in front of you. "Save the immortal hack for Daniel, Mr.Du Lac."

Your skin crawls at the way he tilts his head ever so slightly, and in that cocky drawl offers another apology.

"Mr Du Lac and his companion would like to dine with you."

You assume it's in regards to the interviews. You bring your computer and personal notepad along with Daniel's. But what you are met with are two wine glasses side by side paired with the men on the couch, one sits in front of them.

Their gazes are unblinking as you enter, setting your things and carefully crossing one leg over the other.

"I'm sorry we are meeting so late, or would it be early Mr.Du Lac."

"Call me Louis, the pleasure is mine. My companion Armand wanted to join our meeting this evening."

Armand creeps you out the moment your eyes lock, how his golden eyes stare you, analyzing you. He isn't as old as Louis. he actually seems to be the age of some of the TA's from school. Though you'd prefer it if it were just Louis and you. You can manage being alone with the latter.

"Daniel tells us you think none of this to be real." Ah, so it does speak.

"It's true. I find the supernatural charade boring," you pick up the yellow pad and pen. "But I'm not paid to to dig any deeper than he asks me to. I polish and prime what he asks, and he does all the writing."

"You weren't able to join the first interview because too were tired. I could hear your heart the entire time, you didn't sleep. Kept tossing and turning the entire night." Now you look at Louis, here he goes again.

"An easy observation, can we please focus on-"

"Thoughts were racing an awful lot too," Louis looks up in fake thought "is any of this worth it, why waste my time on a rich hack. I could be back home working on my portfolio."

Once again you cut him off. Pinching the bridge of your nose, "another keen observation please try and do better, now in session 2-"

"Your father took your mother here." Armand speaks up now and your heart stops, "those earrings she gifted you were from here. In fact in your dreams the previous evening you dreamt of taking them both here. You started planning it with the money that will come out of this interview."

Every word accelerates your heart, it makes Louis smile "Careful cher, your heart might beat out your chest."

Your hands shake as they swipe the glass of wine in front of you, you take two large gulps. Clutching it for comofrt.

"My apologies, I did not wish to cause any distress."

"I'm sorry, I need a moment." You leave your things behind and return to your room that night. You feel childish locking the door behind you and running to the bathroom where you stop for a moment closing that door behind you as well locking it and taking the hottest of showers. The next morning a letter from the two sits by breakfast along with your things in a neat pile.

Eerily it is exactly what you were thinking of yesterday morning, it is french toast made from the fluffiest brioche. With a side of bacon, turkey, you hated pork. Armand asks to speak to you while Daniel rests along with Louis.

Once you eat and shower quickly putting on a sweater to combat the chill you find him in the study.

He sits, almost like he knew you would come.

"It was not our intent to alarm you" his eyes follow you as you sit. "You did not rest last night because of us. Please use tonight to rest."

You refuse to look at him, favoring the thread on your sweaters sleeve.

"You are more than qualified to work for any other reporter on your own, yet you work for...him. Why?"

"He was the only one to look pass the observations of my advisor, I wasn't going to be just an errand girl. Not too many publishers cared for my opinions. I was too blunt and rough along the edges to be a writer."

"You didn't believe Mr.Molloy was interviewing a vampire yet you still followed him here."

"It's not my book. I'm a fly on the wall remember?"

"But if it were your story?"

You pause in thought, and now you look away into those unsettling eyes after a moment. "I would have interviewed Claudia had she survived. I feel her story needs to be heard."

You answer more of his prodding questions till you return to your room for lunch. A wrap of some sort with nuts and fruits on the side. And a pile of little girls diaries with white gloves and a note to handle with caution.

Armand won't voice his affinity for you as Louis does. You won't admit the way his eyes settle on you as you enter the room makes you preen, makes your heart fuzzy and your head feel like it wants to float away.

The interview goes on tonight with Armand joining. They once more talk about Lestat. You try and fight your eyes from rolling as you read through an email.

'If I hear his name one more time I might gouge my ears out.'

'Don't torture yourself like that cher.' Your eyes look to him, but he remains focused on Daniel, listening to Armand. How does one multitask like that? Two conversations at once must be hard.

'Years of practice.'

'And what's with all this chere nonsense?'

'Would you prefer your name instead?'

'No' your cheeks warm in embarassment "I...enjoy it."

"Get me some pictures of this theatre." Daniel's instructions get your attention, "and whatever memorabilia you can find." You nod typing that onto your list of many other things to do.

'I will help you with that tonight, after the session I've arranged for dinner tonight' Armand now stares at you and that damned feeling begins to creep back in 'no pork as per your request.' You hate how quick you are to forgive him. But he slowly is earning your trust again.

Daniel coughs obnoxiously getting the elder vampires attention. "You were saying?" This time when you look down, a smile only the pair can detect makes its way upon your lips.

They stare at you less, leave your mind alone as per your request. And indulge in your blunt questions. Each night you find yourself slowly feeling less discomfort. You almost wish you could stay, you think to yourself one night now dining with the two looking at pictures of Louis in his younger years.

He sits beside you, smiling as he watches your hands carefully hold the photos from their time in France.

"No fair, Paris is top of my bucket list."

"I'd be more than happy to take you," Louis gives you that smirk which you roll your eyes in playfulness at.

"Sure you will."

"We could take you anywhere you would like" Armand states.

"Ibizia?"

"Gladly."

"Bali."

"Sure."

Even though you still doubt their supernatural nature. You indulge them. Unknown that just as much as you have them wrapped around your finger, they have you caught in a web.

And they'll patiently wait for you to realize that there are some beings whose hearts you should never toy with. For the results afterwards, are eternal.

[dilftaroooo]

Request: True form Sukuna claiming his offering in front of her village.

im gonna write this as a drabble :3

★tags/tw: uhh implied cannibalism + cervix fucking + sukuna is pretty misogynistic + fem!reader + discrimination against humans(?) idfk + true form!sukuna + loss of virginity

You delicately sit in the middle of the stage, introducing yourself to the slew of men and women scattered about like spilled salt on a kitchen table. Your legs are spread to present to them your blooming flower--still pink and untouched. It twitches under the many watchful eyes of diverse emotions--horror, confusion, lust, envy. They all poured down on you amid a lethal storm, droplets pounding your skin and soaking you thoroughly. You turn your head to avoid the plethora of wicked gazes. The feeling is overwhelming.

Behind you lies a demon. A great being, an entity that holds more power than anyone close or far. His teeth are sharp, his eyes are beady, and his stomach is hungry for the innocence of a fresh maiden. The people of your village brought you here. They made sure your scent was pleasant and that you were garbed in the cleanest of silk--your uchikake was adorned in floral patterns reminiscent of the trees that bloomed near your home.

They knew you'd be deemed a perfect offering for Sukuna-sama, the King of Curses--you're a sweet girl with a pure body, your breasts are full and your thighs are plump. They were sure if their King ever grew bored of you, he could easily dispose of your youthful frame by savoring your flesh and keeping your skull as a precious souvenir. Innocents always taste sweeter than most.

Though your legs were spread, they weren't spread enough for Sukuna as he already gripped your thighs with a strict pressure you weren't unfamiliar with. The squelch that leaves your pussy parts as he further widens your limbs was a sound everyone managed to capture. You're wet and slimy and maybe somewhat aroused. Your King is an attractive beast with a chiseled chin and a beguiling grin. Intricate, onyx lines surface the apex of his taut muscles and the sight makes you clench around thin air. You ponder on what he'd look like if he were a mere human such as yourself.

"All of you!" He starts, his voice booms through the premises and you're surprised by how powerful the echo is despite not being in an enclosed space. As expected, everyone gears their eyes toward the four-armed monster in preparation for his next words. "I want you mortal freaks to watch me fuck this girl you were so kind to offer me. If it hadn't been for this young duckling I would've already slaughtered this putrid village and watched my militia of curses swallow you whole."

He's quick for his size as he brings you onto his hefty lap, and from there you already feel one of his cocks coat itself against your wet slit. He's huge and lingering at the back of your mind, you wonder if you would die at first thrust. His tip is an angry red, livid from the languid teasing performed by its heaving owner from rubbing it across the length of your weeping cunt. It isn't long before his playful ministrations are seduced into slamming inside you.

You weren't even spared a moment of reconsideration for your hymen was already snapped into two, disintegrating upon impact. It would have been a shame to experience your deflowering with a prominent tummy bulge if it wasn't for how much your mind and soul revere the beast overlapping your weak presence.

You were his and he was his own as he violently hammered himself down to the hilt. You bathed him in the blood of a former virgin while he hits that bruised cervix within you. Your back is against that sculpted chest you worship dearly and his sweat rubs off on you is strong with his pheromones.

"Sukuna-sama," You mewl because he's so deep in your pussy that you can't fight back the urge to call out his name. He responds with a finger to your clit and a hand on your breast, making it his duty to circle a thick finger around your nipple.

"I don't remember granting you permission to speak now, did I?" His tone is dark enough to make you believe you've done something utterly wrong but your apology comes out in a series of wanton moans. He chuckles at how the pathetic always act so miserably.

"But since you're clasping around me so tightly," Burgundy red orbs glare at the side of your left cheek, previously moistened with tears of pain and gratitude. "I'll let your sheer idiocracy go. I don't think any of the past wenches you humans throw at me grip my dick this hard. I assume they were used up til they were nothing but a gaping hole." Then he frowns.

"They must think poorly of me."

Sukuna cherishes the screams rushing out of your throat as you take him inch by overbearing inch, stretching you out to accommodate his length and girth. You're nothing but his plaything.

You practically forget the crowd casted in front of you once you hear subdued chattering coming from multiple voices, all laced with different tones with different perceptions. You feel like a common whore.

Throughout, Sukuna never kissed you. He believes he should not taste the lips of a revolting human for it'll taint his palate. He just fucks into you as you bounce like some ragdoll abandoned by a little girl. But if life has fated you with the opportunity to become Sukuna's, your King's, toy, then may you not change the inevitable.

[bisexualiteaa]

fem reader x ghoul where he’s talking about how small she is?

Fun Size

Cooper Howard x Smaller Fem Reader (SMUT!!)

CW: NSFW MDNI!! Size kink, p in v, unprotected sex, p0rn w/o plot, mentions of breeding kink, mentions of pregnancy, cursing, body worship, establish relationship.

AN: Hey anon! I couldn’t figure out any other way to write this than as a smut so I hope that’s alright! I hope I could do your ask justice and that you and all my other lovely readers will enjoy!

Synopsis: Cooper loved that you were smaller than him, whether it was height, stature, weight it didn’t matter, he loved it about you. He wanted to make sure you knew just how much he loves his fun size. ❤️

This one is slightly shorter than my other works but I hope it is just as enjoyable! I’m actually a smaller framed person so writing this comes from a slightly personal place, I hope it can still be enjoyable to those of all body types. Our cowboy doesn’t discriminate and neither do I, know that you are all loved! ❤️

When he called you his lil’ lady, he called you it for a lot of different reasons. One; he was southern at heart, so a few terms of endearment were standard practice for him. Two; was because you were little compared to him, and he absolutely adored that. When he stood near you, he nearly towered over you, and his stature was quite broad compared to you. He could lift more than you, drink more than you, but what you lacked in size, you more than made up for in attitude. He had never seen someone have so much fight and so much poison in their sweet voice. He knew it’s what you had to do, in a dog eat dog world like this, you really had no other options. As much as you may have held a dislike for your smaller stature, he always wanted to assure you that he enjoyed it, and it was in these more intimate moments like this one that he really enjoyed that size difference.

His larger hand came over yours as he took you from behind, his fingers intertwined with yours as he leaned his head into the crook of your neck. He placed kisses against the sensitive spots along your skin, enjoying the moans leaving your lips as his hips slapped against your ass. “Cooper…” you moaned sweetly, your head raising a little as your mouth fell open, his cock brushing your g-spot with each drag outwards and nudged the apex of your cervix with each thrust inwards. “Love this cute lil’ waist of yours” he said, his free hand traveling along your frame, grabbing at anything he could get his hands on. “These hands, look damn good holdin’ a gun in ‘em” he added, worshipping your body as it trembled beneath him, your whimpers and moans sounding like music to his ruined ears. “Everythin’ about you is perfect, darlin’” he finished, and you’d never felt so loved. You never really put much thought into your size before, knowing you were small put you at a slight disadvantage out in the wastelands because most people would take one look and consider you weak, but Cooper knew that was far from the truth. You were one hell of a woman, with firepower and attitude to put someone even taller than him to shame. You were stronger than most ever gave you credit for, and that was almost like a secret power for you. “In another life, I’d have put a baby in this lil’ tummy of yours. Watch you walk around all swollen where you gotta waddle” he said, groaning at the thought of having a child with you, he so dearly missed his baby girl from his past marriage but that was a thought for another time. He felt your walls squeeze around him at the thought, making him chuckle. “Ya like that thought, dontchya, sugar? Felt that pretty pussy tighten around me, you like the thought of me breedin’ you, sweetheart?” He asked with a perverted grin, making you whimper as your face and body fell hot. You’d be a liar if you said the dream hadn’t crossed your mind before but it was one you knew was impossible to think about, especially with how the world was now. You felt his fingers run down to rub tight circles against your clit, making your back arch and your head roll back against his shoulder. “That’s it, arch that back. Cum for me sweetheart, I gotchya” he coaxed, and it wasn’t long before you fell over the edge, the cry of his name leaving your lips like a prayer.

You gasped for air as you panted beneath him, your smaller frame trembling beneath him once more as the feeling rushed over you in pleasurable waves. You whined, feeling him quickly pull out and finish over your back, needing to conserve your resources of RadAway for just a little bit longer before using it again. As you collapsed on the bed, waiting for him to return with a damp rag to clean you, you had a great idea on how to really play with his liking of the size difference. You smirked to yourself as you watched him dispose of the rag after cleaning you up then himself, sneaking his shirt from off the floor and putting it over your tiny frame. His shirt pooled over you like a night dress, all baggy around the middle, sleeves coming over your hands as they almost seemed to disappear beneath the pool of fabric. The bottom of the shirt came to rest just around your mid-thighs, it was perfect. He looked up, giving a mix between a chuckle and a groan at the sight, feeling his dick twitch in his briefs as you stood before him in nothing more than his beaten up, bloodstained shirt. “Careful sugar, don’t start somethin’ you ain’t able to finish” he warned, seeing the mischievous glint in your eyes and grin stretched to your lips. “Not sure I catch your meanin’ there, honey” you replied teasingly as he scooped you up with ease, soon plopping you back down on the bed with him as he all but pounced on you, making you yelp playfully before giggling as he buried his face into your neck. “Ya look damn good in my clothes” he said, making you smile. “It’s a sight you can have every day if ya’d like t’ keep me ‘round” you responded, knowing exactly what his answer would be to that. “Think I’d ever get rid a you? You’re all mine, fun size” he said, making you giggle at the bad pun-based nickname he called you. “Wouldn’t want it any other way” you replied, wrapping your arms around him and kissing his bald head before falling peacefully asleep.

[ln4bub]

hii i love your five so much omfg i was wondering if you could do 11 and 83 with lando or daniel w a bit of a breeding kink i’ve got major baby fever rn😭🫶

A/N i wasn't planning on writing this one yet, but the dr3 breeding kink was voted for in my last poll and so this one had to be done so i could tag it properly for the anon that requested it <3

DR3 Request

---------------------------------------------

Lando was always in control; being the deciding voice in what needs to be changed with the McLaren he had to drive week in, week out. So when the MCL-60 wasn't performing, leaving him stranded out in P17 or scraping points in P9, you could see it was starting to get to him. You'd bore the brunt of his frustration, traumatising poor Oscar after every bad result. But it was wearing Lando down, and so when he dragged you back to the hotel after the Canadian GP you were half expecting him to break.

So when his lips greedily meshed with yours you were surprised, you thought for sure this would be the final straw for him. His tongue clashed with yours, tasting the fruity soda you had consumed during the race. The groan he lets out into your mouth makes your body tingle, pulling at the hairs at the nape of his neck. Lando pulls you on top of him, collapsing on the bed you shared. He pulls his lips away from yours with a smack, heavy breaths now filling the space between you.

"I want you to take control tonight."

Your stomach clenches at his words, images of a flushed and desperate Lando writhing underneath you fill your mind. "Are you sure?" You mutter back, brushing that one loose curl from his forehead. His eyes close at your soft touch before fluttering open, glazed over and wide staring at you. "So sure baby, just don't want to think right now." He practically whispers, voice nervous and slightly shaky.

You press your lips to his forehead, leaving a faint glossy sheen behind. He smiles softly up at you, his tongue poking out to wet his lips in nervousness, waiting for your response. "Whatever you need," you tell him, mirroring his own smile. He leans forward to kiss you, lips hovering over your own before he feels a sharp tug in his hair. His mouth stays parted, eyes closing as you brush your lips gently over his own. You feel the way he tries to capture your lips, the barely there brush leaving behind a thin layer of spit to add to your lip-gloss.

Your tongue peaks out, running over his lower lip before capturing it between your teeth and pulling gently. Lando whimpers at the sting, large hands encompassing your face to pull you towards his own. Your lips move in sync with his, practiced and perfected over time. You adjust your position, straddling him as you continue to kiss. He whines at the weight of you against his cock, straining now against his black jeans.

Your soft hands slide underneath his shirt, pushing it up to expose his tanned skin. Lando takes the hint and removes his team merch, throwing it on the floor with a thud. His large hands slide up your back, kissing along your jaw as your nails begin lightly scratching his back. "Take it off, please, wanna see you baby." Lando whispers against your skin, the movement of his lips against your neck making you moan softly. You heed his request, pulling your dress off and leaving you in your matching set. It was Lando's favourite, all black with custom fluoro yellow piping around the edges.

He groans at the sight of you, leaning back into the pillows when you gently shove his chest. Your lips connect with his own once more, sloppily coating them in the last of your lip gloss. Lando chases your lips as you pull away but you simply smirk at him, dipping your head to suck at the apex of his jaw. A loud moan leaves Lando's mouth at the action, his head tilting back to give you more access to his thick neck; access that you happily utilise.

Your lips are everywhere, overwhelming Lando in every sense, nibbling and sucking before swiping your tongue over the fresh marks left behind. Normally you'd avoid giving him hickeys but the next race wasn't until July so they had time to fade, and Lando loved the feeling of you claiming him in this way. His cock was starting to throb in his jeans with each press of your lips against his skin, especially when you migrated further south.

You kissed every inch of his skin, tracing every mole across his chest and stomach with your lips. His body erupted in goosebumps with each touch, squirming underneath you at the teasing. You slide your pinkies underneath the waistband of his jeans before undoing the button and sliding down the zipper. You hear Lando breathe a sigh of relief at the release of pressure, lifting his hips to allow you to slide his jeans down.

You kiss his length of his underwear, feeling it twitch with the first touch of your lips. "Y/N, babe, come here." Lando mutters, pulling at your arm. You hover over his bulge, the heat from between your legs radiating for Lando to feel. "What is it baby?" You ask, looking into Lando's glossy eyes. His pupils are blown wide, lips red and bitten as a consequence of your teasing. "Just want to feel you, is that okay?" He asks, eyes pleading.

"Of course it is Lan, but you're gonna have to beg for it, can you do that for me?" You question, dragging your nails down his chest as he smiles shyly with a nod. You remove your remaining underwear as Lando does the same before hovering over his hard cock, the tip bumping your clit as you position yourself.

"Please baby, need to feel you." Lando mutters as you glide your pussy over his cock, coating him in your wetness. He stutters out a groan at the feeling of your slick covering him, "Oh god, so fucking wet. Please, god please, let me feel you baby." He continues, hands squeezing your hips in an effort not to buck his hips into you. You slide his tip into your pussy, moaning at the stretch. Lando echoes the same moan, cock twitching at the feeling of your warmth.

"Fuck, feels s'good baby, more, please, give me more please, wanna be buried inside you s'bad." Lando hurries out, voice strained with restraint as he tries not to slam himself inside you. You heed his request, slamming yourself down onto his length before riding him at a wild pace, your legs immediately starting to burn.

"Holy shit, oh my god, love you, love being inside you, so good to me, yes baby, don't stop." Streams of praise and whines leave Lando's mouth, his body falling slack at the pleasure rippling over him. Moans spill out of the both of you, the burning pain of your legs adding to your pleasure as his cock hits you at the perfect angle. "Fuck Lan, made for me weren't you baby?" You mutter, hand resting on the side of his flushed face.

He nods with a whine, "Yeah baby, all yours, no-one else's, fuck yes. Use me just like that, my cock's all for you." His mouth drops open in a loud moan of your name, "So close, wanna feel you cum, please cum, need it." He slurs, hairline beginning to stick to his forehead with sweat. Your hand slips down from his face, your other hand joining it to wrap around his thick neck as you continue to fuck yourself on his dick.

His thumb reaches over from where his hand has sat on your hips, rubbing against your clit with every bounce you make. It sends you flying over the edge, your walls clenching around Lando's cock and pulling his own orgasm from him. He releases with a loud groan, your hands tightening around his neck. His cum fills you, beginning to spill out from where you remained connected. You ease the pressure on his neck, collapsing forward on top of him.

You lift yourself on shaky legs, allowing Lando to slip out of you. You crawl up the bed before swinging your legs over Lando's face, his large hands cupping your ass. "Clean up your mess Lan." You tell him and he wastes no time, pulling you against his face as his tongue delves between your folds. He flicks and swirls like a madman, shaking his face in-between your legs, his nose bumping your clit with each movement as he cleans the combination of your cum that spills out. It doesn't take long for you to cum on his tongue, sensitive from your first orgasm.

Lando lifts you off his face, cuddling himself into you but not before kissing you sweetly, allowing you to taste the both of you on his tongue. "Thank you." He mutters, a sentiment repeated at the next race when Lando gets P4, and the next race when Lando gets his first home podium, and the week after when he secures another P2.

Oscar stands next to you in the garage as Lando gives his interviews after the race, "Whatever you did to him in that hotel room after Canada must have worked miracles, are you a witch?" He asks, laughing at the blush that coats your face. "Shut up pastry, unless you're only asking because you want some help getting those podiums too?" You retort. Oscar blushes fiercely, causing you to laugh this time before Lando joins you both, "What's so funny?"

[pinkanonwrites]

HANDS-ON LEARNING

Read 'Handle With Care' here!

Rodimus/Human Reader, NSFW, First Contact AU, AFAB Reader, GN Pronouns, G/T, Experimental Sex, Fingering, Oral (Receiving)

Since this is a First Contact fic, dialogue that is both bold and italicized are words that both the reader and Rodimus understand.

NSFW UNDER THE CUT!

Of all the ideas you'd had over the course of your life, this had to be one of the worst.

Granted, it wasn't as bad as trying to follow the blinking light into the woods after your car broke down, only to end up abducted by aliens. But it was pretty high up there.

But between said abduction and your ensuing rescue by the gigantic alien robots and the spaceship they called home, you hadn't exactly had a lot of time to yourself. And after days melted into weeks and you eventually began to lose track of how long it had been since you had been plucked from Earth, you were starting to get a little… wound up.

Most days were spent in between the massive metal fingers of a robot that you were pretty sure was named Rodimus as he shuttled you from room to room and presented you to his fellow crew members like a first-grader showing off their new pet hamster. But despite the glaring communication barrier and the ever-present threat of being squashed under foot, Rodimus was very careful with you. He made sure you were safe and comfortable, never picked you up without letting you know ahead of time, and did his best to communicate simple thoughts and ideas with you through hilarious, size-difference charades. It could be a little awkward sometimes, but he was nice! It was nice.

And then, about a week ago, Rodimus accidentally made you cum so hard you almost blacked out. And you couldn't stop thinking about it.

But honestly, how were you supposed to stop thinking about it? Sure, it was an accident, (or you were pretty sure it was, at least. Giant robot charades isn't always a perfect system) but it was an accident that refused to leave your mind. When Rodimus would lay on his big slab of metal to sleep, or recharge his batteries, or whatever it was that giant robots did at bedtime, you'd be lying awake in the little habitat he'd built for you out of his desk craving the sensation of sitting on the world's best and most attentive washing machine and letting the vibrations spark stars behind your eyelids.

So maybe it was a bit stupid, and horny, and frankly desperate to search out that feeling again from a guy four times your size who could crush you in his hand like a grape if he ever wanted to. But God damn if it wouldn't be worth it.

So that's how you found yourself in the position you are now. Naked, sprawled back against the surface of the desk with one of Rodimus's massive hands cradling your upper body, and a giant finger from the other tracing up the inner curve of your thigh. He seemed almost enchanted by the way your goosebumps rippled to the surface beneath his touch, letting out a pleased, mechanical warble.

He seemed to adore your softness compared to the rigid metal of his own skin, as Rodimus liked to squish you quite a bit. Never enough to hurt, just enough to feel the warm press of your skin between the joints of his fingers and hands, or to drag a curious fingertip down your cheek. But there was a particular meekness with the way he touched you right now, like he was only just realizing how easy it would be for him to hurt you. It was painfully sweet, and if you weren't absolutely aching for something more right now you may have been content to let him continue his gentle fondling.

"C'mon, big guy." You murmured instead, resting your hand around his wrist and pulling him up closer to the apex of your thighs. He let out a soft, surprised revving sound at your boldness, glancing at your face a few times before finally pressing the top of his finger up between your thighs, lying flush against your folds. If you had to compare the sensation, you'd say the feeling of leaning a little too far forward on a motorcycle seat was similar. It was warm, rumbling, pressing up against all the right places, but not quite enough to get you anywhere you really wanted. Still, you couldn't stifle your shaky moan, and that seemed to really get him going.

"Yes?..." He all but purred, one of the few words you had actually managed to learn between the two of you. The pointed chevron of his brow seemed to quirk up a bit on one side as he glanced down at his thick finger between your legs before back up to your gaze.

"Yes. It's good, I just… want more." You knew he couldn't understand your words, but the slow roll of your hips and the slick coating of your arousal over his knuckle seemed to get the message across just fine. He rocked his finger up against you, wet with your drooling heat as the jut of the joint slid up and over your clit again, and again, and again. Still slow, yes, but almost painfully good. Your hips jerked towards the sensation and he cooed, engine rumbling louder to course vibrations up through your aching cunt.

He murmured your name, or the best that he could approximate in his echoey, mechanical trill. From the hand cradling your upper body his massive thumb slid forward, dragging along the curve of your jaw and down to the jut of your collarbone with a delicate curiosity. Panting, you let yourself melt into his touch, rolling your hips against his other hand and shuddering at every other press that seemed to hit just the right spot. Fuck, this was good. Better than good, you felt like your brain was going to melt out of your ears, molten heat pooling low in your stomach as a pleasant buzz of arousal seemed to crawl through your muscles and out to the tips of your fingers and toes. It was probably way too early to be cumming, but you'd been pent-up for far too long already and the relentless vibrations only pushed you higher and higher, a rubber band threatening to snap as you gasped and shuddered and tossed your head back against Rodimus's enormous metal palm.

It was all you could do to keep your feet from kicking out as your orgasm washed over you, the aching clench of your cunt around nothing making you whine as his fingers slowed to a lazy, comfortable stroking. You blinked blearily up at him, a look of incredibly sly pride on his face as you went limp and content in his palm.

"Fuck, Rodimus." You groaned. It startled you, the sheer volume of his engine's snarl in response to your simple, fucked-out sigh of his name. But more surprising was the sudden press of two blunt fingers against your messy hole, slippery with your own arousal as they tried to work their way into you. "W-Wait! Rodimus, fuck, it's not gonna fi-MMGH!?"

With a wet pop, the tips of his two massive fingers slipped into your still-twitching cunt, stretching you wider than you'd ever been before. Even one of his fingers was more than big enough for you, but he somehow fit two? Your entire body trembled as you flopped back, slave to the impossible stretch and press of unrelenting metal against your most sensitive spots. Whimpers and groans were forced from your body with each minute flex and press of his fingers deeper, deeper, scraping spots you could never reach with your own two hands and stuffing you so full you felt like you couldn't breathe in properly. The heat that had only just receded was building again, impossibly quick, a tingling jolt underneath your skin that made the muscles of your legs twitch and kick outside of your own control as your mind struggled between spearing yourself further on this impossible stretch or wriggling helplessly away.

He was talking again, an incomprehensible clutter of mechanized boops and whirrs that you only barely managed to process in your pleasure-drunk mind. Then, with a sudden rush of motion and swoop of your stomach with the G-force, you were cradled off of the table with his free hand and held up to his face. There was a glow to his cheeks, a bead of liquid trailing down the side of his helmet as he gazed down at you. Robots could blush? And sweat? Apparently this one could, a gush of warm heat rolling over your body as he huffed, mouth hanging slightly open. Behind his giant teeth you could see a peek of a silver-grey tongue, a rippling smooth expanse of rubber and metal-mesh that crept towards you until Rodimus dragged it oh-so-carefully up the length of your cunt.

"FUCK!" You wailed, hands scrabbling for purchase against the joints and bends of Rodimus's hand as he swept his massive tongue between your folds. He let out a low, growling groan at the taste, burying his face between your thighs as he stroked and massaged your pulsing clit with the tip of his tongue. His fingers kept working, curling up towards your stomach on each thrust as you sobbed, abandoning your grip on his hand to clutch to the yellow chevron on his brow like your life depended on it. Your head was swimming, buzzing so intensely with heat that you could barely form a thought beyond the deep, impending well of your next orgasm. It pulsed from so deeply within you, a relentless wall of pleasure rushing towards you faster than you could prepare yourself for. All you could do was cling desperately to Rodimus's brow and hold on for the ride, sobbing and gasping and shivering as it crept ever higher, warmth blossoming out from your cunt and crawling across your shaky frame as pleasure exploded behind your eyelids. You wailed his name again, barely comprehensible, as each press of his fingers forced a gush of slick from your quivering hole and spattered into his giant palm. As quickly as it came his tongue swept it gently away, fingers slowing and letting out a low, melodic hum as your wails and moans trailed off into soft, sniffly whimpers. Finally, finally, after what felt like an eternity but couldn't have been more than a minute at most, he began to lower you carefully back down onto the desk, thumb rubbing a tear from your cheek as he pulled his fingers from your puffy, overworked cunt.

He cooed your name again, cradling your body in both palms. "Good?" He murmured, warmth from his metal palms seeping directly into your sweaty skin and aching muscles. You heaved another shaky breath, unable to form words so you instead shot the giant mech a wavering thumbs-up. In any other scenario that may have been a cripplingly embarrassing response to what was possibly the best orgasm of your life, but it pulled a beaming smile to Rodimus's face regardless.

In a few minutes the tacky feel of slick and sweat and robot saliva drying on your skin would begin to border on intolerable, and you knew you'd eventually have to rise to fawn-like legs and stumble to clean yourself up. But for now you were more than happy to lay sprawled in your giant companion's grasp.

Hell, maybe he'd even help you take a bath, too. After all, it's not like you had anything left to hide.

[fayes-fics]

Audacious

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: Sequel to Impertinent. After your engagement party, Anthony asks you to rendezvous in his office to continue where you left off.

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, innocence/corruption kink, sex education, mutual masturbation, orgasms.

Word Count: 2.2k

Authors Note: Sequel request fill for @cleopatraathene to continue the story from Impertinent (ask HERE). Sorry, it's taken so long, my dear. Err, this could well turn into a series at this rate. Thanks to @colettebronte for betaing. Enjoy! <3

The bejewelled band feels weighty around your left ring finger as you rap your knuckles quietly upon his study door. It's late, and the last thing you want is for anyone to know what you are doing.

After a pause, the hinges creak, and a hand snakes out and grabs your arm.

Before you know it, you are dragged through the door, and it closes with you pressed against the other side, the room heady with the scent of recently smoked cigars and expensive brandy. Anthony is casual in just a white shirt, sleeves rolled up around his elbows, braces slung around his hips.

“Fiancée,” he rumbles, his nose trailing up your neck as he leans in, the wood of the door panels digging into your bottom through the thin layer of your silk robe. “Did you enjoy our engagement party?” he queries, teasing your throat with soft kisses.

“Yes,” you answer breathily. “A-And I did as you asked.”

He pauses in his ministrations; you can feel the curve of a smile over your skin. “What did I ask you to do?” he knows the answer; he just wants to hear you say it.

“To return this evening exactly as I was last night.” 

He tuts softly, his nose trailing up the cord of your neck. “But you are wearing something, so you are not as you were.”

“I could hardly walk through the halls of your home naked, my lord!” you gasp.

He chuckles richly, his breath hot in your ear. “On the contrary. This is soon to be all yours. As Viscountess, you can do exactly as you wish. Or as I wish. And sometimes, I may wish you to be naked at my bidding,” he straightens up and looks down at you, dark eyes glittering. “Would you do that for me? Would you walk naked where I told you?“

Again, as last night, you feel under a spell. “Yes, my lord,” you whisper truthfully.

“Audacious,” he rasps approvingly, “just how I like it,” the last few words muttered over your lips before capturing them with his.

Your stomach quivers at his praise, then vaults at the first brush of his mouth, knowing that now you are betrothed, he has promised so much more. His lips are warm and soft as he slowly parts your lips, his tongue rolling, requesting entry. Instinctively, you open, a wave of luscious wet heat as his tongue lathes over yours, a dance that has you inside melting and a throb at the apex of your thighs that is entirely foreign but enthralling. As he breaks away, you chase his lips, eyes still closed, wanting more of his heady kisses. He grabs both of your hands and pulls you to the centre of the room, the fire warming the backs of your calves as he releases his hold.

“Take off your robe,” his order soft.

Your trembling hands scramble to obey, making quick work of the knot at your belly, pushing the material off your shoulders so it flutters onto the rug behind you so you are naked. There is a throaty noise and he takes a step back as if to better drink in the view of your body. His lush bottom lips curling under his upper teeth, his eyes covetous, roaming your skin.

“You should never wear clothes,” he opines, backing further away, grabbing a wingback chair and scraping it across the carpet until it is behind him. He takes a seat, his eyes never leaving your form.

“Spin for me.”

Heart beating fast, you rock onto the balls of your feet and rotate away so you face the blazing fire, your back towards him. Then you slowly complete the circle until you are facing him again, his expression ravenous.

“A perfect specimen. Now touch yourself,” the order is gruff.

You frown at him. “Where, my lord?”

“Are you to tell me you have never put your fingers between your legs?” he scoffs, disbelieving.

“N-no, my lord? Should I?’ 

The dancing flames of the fire are almost too hot on your bottom, as he answers in a cool register. “Yes, you should. But perhaps I should be the one to instruct you as your future husband.”

With that, he stands from his seat, walking purposely towards you, his boots heavy on the rug as you take a deep breath. He grabs your right wrist, bringing your fingers up to his lips and engulfing them in his hot mouth, his tongue questing against the pads of your fingers, the suckle of his lips sensual and damp.

With a salacious pop, he pulls off your fingers, his lips quirking into a knowing smile as he guides your wetted fingers to your chest.

“Touch your nipples,” he instructs quietly.

You gasp as his cooling saliva meets your flushed, puffy areola, puckering instantly under the pad of your fingers. 

“That feels good, does it not?” he dusks, wrapping his hand over yours to direct your caressing of yourself, his fingers never touching your nipple but directing your movement like a puppeteer, taking the fingers of your left hand and repeating the suckling action, guiding your fingers to your other nipple.

All you can do is nod and bite your lip, pushing up into your own hands, squirming slightly from foot to foot, feeling a dampness smear on your inner thighs as you do, your tummy replete with butterflies under his heavy gaze.

He guides your fingers over the swell of your lower breast and down over your stomach, chuckling as the teasing trail of your own fingers makes you giggle lightly, your belly rippling. His eyes flash as his hand guides yours lower, trailing into the patch of hair at the apex of your thighs, something thronging between your legs at the molten look on his face.

Two of his fingers curl over the back of yours, turning your middle and pointer fingers into a hook before he pushes your hand lower. Again, you gasp as your fingers slide at his insistence into some folds of skin between your legs, damp and sticky. His face is dashingly mischievous as he places those hooked fingers over a certain swollen nub and swirls them slowly in an anticlockwise motion. You startle at the spike of pleasure that rushes through your body, the epicentre under your attentions.

“How does that feel, fiancée?” he murmurs, tone like velvet.

All you can do is stutter his name on a shaky exhale, your other hand shooting out to grab his muscular forearm where it presses your belly, the dark hairs there tickling your palm as you grip around him, needing the anchor, your knees feeling oddly weak.

“Oh, you like that…” he huffs, amused, as he crowds into you, his hand covering yours between your legs, dictating your movements, a shiver running down your spine at the fizzles of pleasure sparking around your body. “Do not stop,” his voice low, resonant, his lips hot on your temple, you moaning lightly and leaning into him.

A sweet-tart scent fills the air, your fingers coated in a slick, viscous substance that can only be from your own body, a soft, wet noise emanating from where you touch yourself.

“That is my favourite sound in the world,” Anthony sighs into your ear, “so ripe and ready for me…just wait until we are married.”

“What will happen?” you inhale, trying your best to concentrate even as you feel your body swelling under your own touch, engorged, hot, craving more friction.

“All in good time…” he answers enigmatically, his breath a touch uneven.

The slightly rough texture of his cotton shirt snags delightfully against your nipples as you writhe, riding your own fingers and his, wishing it were his skin touching yours. There is something hard in his britches that rubs your stomach with each move you make.

“Do not stop,” he gruffs.

You whine as he steps away, craving his heat, his toned body glorious to rub yourself against, akin to a cat.

“My lord…” you mewl, appealing for him to return, swaying unsteadily on your feet even as you continue to touch yourself as instructed.

“That is it, keep going up,” he encourages, retaking the seat and staring at you covetously, one of his hands falling to his lap, palming a swelling there.

“What are you doing, my lord?” 

You are intrigued by his soft panting as he roughly tugs at the buttons on his trousers.

“I am doing as you are,” he groans, “I am touching myself, My cock.”

With that, he fishes something out from his white underwear that makes you inhale sharply. A red, almost angry looking rod of flesh that stands proud of his body from a dark thatch of hair. The slight is intriguing and makes you pulse heavily between your legs as if innately knowing it belongs there.

You feel yourself moving towards him, like a magnetic pull, your fingers still sliding over that hardened pearl between your legs as you get closer, hypnotised by the sight of his hand, now in a fist, moving up and down his swollen cock.

“Cock…” it falls from your lips reflexively as you stare.

He groans loudly at your utterance, a shiny pearl of wetness pooling at his tip as he does so.

You feel feverish, not just because of the roaring fire in the hearth, but a blaze inside, a flush running through you that makes your mind feel both fuzzy and sharp, singular in pursuit of pleasure, your fingers moving faster now between your legs, varying your speed and motion.

He hisses his approval as your knees buckle, sinking to a kneel on the rug, your knees splaying wide, your fingers freer to move, but your eyes never leave his hand, his motion a quick twisting tug now.

“Does that not hurt?” you blurt out breathily, not pausing, chasing a high you can feel hovering so tantalisingly close, a tingle over your lips and the back of your scalp.

“No, it feels just as good as your fingers do on you,” he assures, broken, huffing now. “I will teach you,” he adds, meeting your gaze heatedly when your eyes ping to his face briefly.

Something about this feels so decadent and luxurious, the same as his velvet jacket was on your skin last night, the garment that catalysed this whole tumultuous journey.

“Swap hands,” he commands, cutting into your wayward tangent, and you find yourself obeying on instinct. “Give me that other,” he rejoins. Before you know it, the fingers that were between your legs are in his mouth, his tongue curling and sucking wantonly, feeling the vibration of his groan over your fingertips as he cleans all your juices from your fingers, his hand a frenzy on his cock now.

Your other hand feels different; something about the catch of your blunt fingernails between your legs has you hurtling towards some crescendo, your skin feeling almost too tight over your bones, a pressure behind your ribs as your heart thunders, almost like you are trying so hard to chase and hold in something explosive.

“Oh, you are there, aren't you?” Anthony growls around your fingers still in his mouth, sounding wild, his motions untamed, gusting deep breaths out of his nose as he leans forward, eyes intense and glassy.

All you can do is nod, almost frantic, as if seeking permission to break, circling an abyss. Your fingers fall from his mouth as he groans loudly.

“Come for me, fiancée,” he grits out.

Unsure what that means, you just keep moving, feeling something snap inside that has you calling out and curling over, a scream escaping your lungs as your body seems to retract and explode outwards, your mind scattered to the wind as an ecstatic wave fans out from your core around your body, your muscles twitching.

You are brought back to the room by a noise he makes—hungry, gravelly, all male. As your breath returns, your eyes reopen to see him in the throes of ecstasy: an arresting sight. One curl of hair flopped over his dewy forehead, his lower lip caught under his upper teeth, eyes wild and unfocused, then screwing shut as he roars, his hand a frenzy on his cock which seems to pulse in his fist before spurting a substance in an arc part of which splashes warm across your chest, taking you by surprise.

That seems to signal he has reached a peak, too, his body wracked by a few aftershocks before he slumps back into the chair, panting, his hand slackening as he stares transfixed at the sticky streak of his cum over the upper swell of your breast.

“Are you well, husband?” you check, fascinated but concerned.

He doesn't correct the title you bestow upon him. “More than,” is his laconic, sated response, an easy smile claiming his face as he unfurls a sleeve to tenderly clean your breasts of his seed. “This is only the beginning,” he promises, cupping your cheek affectionately. “Run along and get some rest; we shall meet here again tomorrow.”

You cannot wait.

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[maxarchive]

Listen to the full interview here.

Now, just as the championship was starting to get to a really tense point around Austin, there was this big controversy about driving ethics between you and Lando. The drivers had a big conversation with the FIA after that race about the guidelines and it felt in some ways that it was a consequence of what had happened in Austin. How did you feel about that? Did you ever feel like they were singling you out?

You know, honestly, I don't, even if they would have done or did, I, first of all, I don't care because I drive to what I think is possible and what is allowed in the rules. And if the rules are written like that, I will use the rules. I'm just not the type of person that I think, if that would have happened to me the other way around, you know. There is then other people commenting on, other drivers commenting on that were not involved in that whatever incident or whatever you call it. I don't think I would have been the person then to complain so hard because I would just think to myself that, okay, if that's the rules, that's how we do it instead of screaming that we need to change the rules. Because the problem is, if you make less rules and then something happens, then they will start screaming for more rules. Now we have the rules, maybe not perfect, but it will never be perfect. Because if we get to a certain rule set, there will be another incident where someone is not happy about and then they start screaming that the rules are not correct again. It's the same in football. If there's a foul and there are some clear rules about certain things, it's not always that the right decision is made on it, or is it a penalty given or not? Or was it offside or not? That's why you can never, at the end of the day, do it right. Do I think that consistency in the penalties can be better? Yes, for sure. But that only comes with, I think, stewards that are paid, you know, professional stewards. Not that I think that the stewards that we have right now, you know, they're doing their very best to what they have, you know, but I do think that, you know, in a sport like this, like you see in other sports as well, that when you have a paid board of stewards, I think it just works way better.

You said something very interesting there about the rules that you were always driving to the rules. And that's the fundamental point. I think no one said in Austin or thought that you'd done anything against the rules. But there was this particular kind of defense, you know, the kind of race to the apex, trying to be ahead and all the rest of it that people are talking about now. Do you think that just taking a step back from that particular incident, do you feel that that's the right way to go racing? Would you choose to do it that way if those weren't the rules? How would you like to do it?

Like I grew up with go-karting, where it's not about who is ahead of the apex or not. I think every driver is anyway a little bit different. I remember from go-karting as well with some, you just knew that if you went around the outside, you could hang it around the outside. And with some others, you couldn't because they would push you off. And I think you need a little bit more freedom on that. Because when... When it's that clear rule that you need to be ahead or alongside fully to the apex, you will create other issues with that, right?

So would you naturally want to give someone room on the outside on the exit if you were racing?

Well, me personally, I don't race like that.

You don't... What, sorry, what do you mean?

Well, it's like when I... So when I race with someone, I would... Well, he will not be able to overtake me around the outside.

Okay. Why?

Because that's how I grew up racing.

Okay. So you always think it's okay to go to the edge of the track and force someone off?

Yes, but I've raced against other people in go-karting that would give me space. You know, it's like, it's just a driver-related thing, that some drivers are just a bit more passive, you know, in racing. And that's just how they are. And some I know that even in F1 I can't hang it around the outside because they will push me off. It's just, it's like a bit more of like a racing, I would say, instinct.

So I think if you were to play the devil's advocate, how would someone ever overtake you? Because you will always go to the inside to defend.

It depends on the track layout. I think the main problem is that when you have so much tarmac on the outside, you, even if you lock up a little bit, you just run a little bit wide. But on old-school tracks, you normally never really have these kind of issues because it just doesn't happen because people are a little bit more tentative on the brakes. Also, the guy that is trying to overtake knows that if he makes a mistake and locks up, he's in the gravel and his race is done. You know, so that's what I think is the problem is the track layout is letting us do these kind of, like, you then have questions with some moves. Where if you go to, like, Suzuka or even Red Bull Ring in turn four, the downhill right-hander, where sometimes, you know, it's very rare that there is any, like, question mark move that has been done there because if you make a mistake and you brake too late, you go off in the gravel and you're penalized anyway. And I think we have to try and go back to these kind of things that when a driver goes off the track, there's a harsher penalty with just natural, like, track limits.

So you would never give someone in the outside room on the exit of the corner if you were racing?

Well, that's just normally the case, yeah.

Yeah, okay, cool.

And, of course, when the track is naturally the limit with the gravel being there, then no one even want to go around the outside because they know that. So you then try to go for a cutback or, you know, set yourself up in a different way.

[honeyedmiller]

Nobody Does It Like You Do | Joel Miller

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

rating: explicit – 18+, minors do not interact

warnings: this is literally just filthy smut. consensual relations, soft dom joel???, m oral receiving, face fucking, praise, reader has a praise kink, daddy issues, unprotected piv, dacryphilia, comparing joel to drugs, pet names (sweetheart, little girl, baby, baby girl), use of ‘daddy’, brief mentions of aftercare, no use of y/n. if there’s anything at all that i missed or mistagged, please let me know so i can tag correctly.

word count: 1.6k

synopsis: good girls always get rewarded.

ty to my love @party-hearses for beta reading. thousands of smooches for you always 🖤

a/n: this is based off of the song ‘daddy issues’ by the neighbourhood. go figure. i told myself i’d never write anything with the ‘daddy’ trope in it, but y’know… just this once. i’ve never written anything this “intense” (it’s not that bad tbh), so please feel free to let me know how i did. hope you enjoy ~

-

Mascara tears run down your cheeks as you try your best to look up at the man standing above you.

 Your eyelashes are weighed down by the salty tears that threaten to spill over once more, knees aching from how long you’ve been on them. 

You try to catch your breath as you pant heavily, saliva spilling from your bottom lip as it remains connected to the swollen, weeping cock in front of you. 

“Go ahead, little girl. You can take it. Take it like the good girl I know you are.” Joel’s hand comes down to cradle your face, smearing the tip of his cock against your swollen lips. You nod, parting your lips again as you slowly take his spit-slick cock into your mouth, inch by inch until he’s reaching the back of your throat. 

Joel’s groan rumbles through his sturdy chest as your nose meets the dark, tuft curls at his base. “Nobody does it like you do, baby. Fuck.”

The praise made you clench your thighs together, aching core throbbing and begging to be touched. You could feel your arousal dripping down the inner apex of your thighs.  

God, you’d hoped Joel would lick it all up and tell you how fucking good you tasted. 

You thrived off of his praise, his words that you were obsessed with hearing always igniting something deep within your very core. 

You looked back up at him, hollowing out your cheeks as you dragged your mouth slowly to his tip once more, eliciting a hiss from him. He moved his hand to cradle the back of your head, more tears spilling from your eyes as he guided your head back and forth. 

Joel’s cock twitched at the sight of the tears glistening off of your cheeks, a twisted grin adorning his lips. He always thought you were so fucking pretty like this, just for him. 

You continued moving your head at a steady pace with only one goal in mind: pleasing Joel. Pleasing him meant he’d call you a good girl again, and good girls always got rewarded. 

“Fuckin’ gorgeous with your mouth wrapped around my cock like this, sweetheart. Y’gonna let me ruin that throat?” His tone was promising, sending chills down your spine as you hummed against him. He smirked down at you, nodding. “Relax for me, baby girl. Tap my leg twice if you need me to stop. Got it?” You nod as best as you can, and Joel doesn’t waste another second before he’s pounding himself into your mouth.

You try your hardest to breathe through your nose, gagging not an option to you at this point. 

You wanted to be a good girl for Joel. 

He fucks your throat relentlessly, his silky flesh sliding against your tongue with ease. The sounds of his movements reverberated filthily off of the four walls of his bedroom. 

Your jaw was aching and the tears seemed endless at this point, but it wasn’t long before his thrusts were getting sloppy as his hips stuttered. 

“Good fuckin’ girl, takin’ daddy’s cock down your throat like this. So perfect, baby.” 

You whine around him, eyebrows threading together as your hands move to the back of his thighs. You grip onto him, coaxing him to come undone for you. 

“Shit–fuckin’ hell–fuck,” Joel groans the words, voice strained as he suddenly stills, his warm spend spilling onto your tongue. You swallow everything he gives you, and he slowly pulls his cock out of your mouth with a huff. 

You try to catch your breath, chest heaving as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. Joel gently pulls you up by the elbow, encircling your waist within his arms as he pulls your naked body flush against his own. 

His skin is hot and a few stray curls stuck to his sweat-coated forehead. He looked at you with pure pride in his eyes. 

You did good. 

He cradles the back of your head once more before pulling you into a gentle, needy kiss. He pulls apart from you, wiping his thumbs over the tears that were near-dried on the apples of your cheeks. 

“Did so good for me, baby. You gonna let daddy take care of you now?” His voice is drastically different this time, much more timid. You nod and bite your lip in anticipation. “Words, sweet girl.” 

“Yes.” Your voice is hoarse, throat absolutely fucking wrecked from the very man wishing to take care of you.

“Yes what, little girl?” 

“Yes, daddy.” 

“Good girl. On your back.” Joel nods his head toward the bed, and you instantly comply. 

Joel stands at the end of the bed, admiring you from above. You look like something the Greek gods themselves would’ve carved out into marble stone. He sees the want in your eyes. So desperate. Something carnal that tries to claw its way to the surface. 

What his baby wants, she gets. 

His eyes roamed down to the slick that’d made its way down your thighs. His tongue darted out to wet his lips as he leaned forward, slotting a knee between your legs. He swiped his middle finger up your glistening folds, causing you to sharply inhale as your hips bucked up involuntarily. 

“Poor baby’s all wet, hm? This just from sucking daddy’s cock?” 

You nod frantically, practically begging him silently for him to touch you, lick you, fuck you—anything at this fucking point. He brings his middle finger back down to collect more of your arousal, moving his finger to gently circle your clit. 

Joel brought his middle finger up to his mouth to suck on it, indulging in the taste of you. He could’ve easily gone down on you and ate you like a starved man, but he was selfish with his needs. He needed to be inside of you, wrapped in your warmth, taking care of you the way he knew you liked it. You’d been such a good girl for him, after all. 

He dragged you to the edge of the bed, folding your legs up to your chest. He took his cock and swiped it against your slick folds, causing you to gasp. His gaze met your face for a second before flicking back down to see the moment he pushed himself into you. 

You whine at the stretch, becoming completely engulfed in the man that is Joel Miller. The heaviness of him inside you, his scent on his comforter surrounding you, his taste, his voice, the feeling of his thick forearms as you grabbed onto them for support—the man was all-consuming, and you fucking loved it.

 He was like a fucking drug. Addicting, leaving you wanting more, and hard to let go of. You felt so euphoric with every push and pull, every heavy drag, every sharp thrust. There was just something about this man that mystified you. He drew you in like a magnet. Opposites that attracted. 

Joel was very aware of your need for validation, and truthfully, he got off on seeing you so happy to receive his praise. Just like he was your drug, you were his. He thrived off of your reactions to him, and he couldn’t get enough. He couldn’t get enough of you. 

His eyes shifted to your scrunched up face as you gladly took the slight pain that was easily overpowered by the pleasure. 

“Perfect pussy feels so fuckin’ good around me, baby girl. Fuck,” Joel picked up his pace, rhythmically pounding into you. The slap of skin on skin and the wet squelch of your overwhelming arousal filled the room, the sounds nearly pornographic. “Open your mouth, baby.” He instructs, and once again, you oblige. 

He spits directly into your mouth, and you swallow exactly what he gives you. Your pussy throbbed at the action, feeling every ridge and vein he had. 

“Daddy’s so—so fuckin’ big,” You hiccup, pussy clenching tightly as you felt your release slowly building within your core. 

“Yeah? You like when I take care of you like this baby?” 

You nod once more without hesitation. 

“Dirty fuckin’ girl. Fuckin’ love it. For me and only me, baby. My good fuckin’ girl.” His calloused hands move down to your breasts as he  easily kneads the soft flesh, flicking his thumb over your pebbled nipples. He leaned down to take one in his mouth, giving it a slight nip. 

You hissed in pain, but it went straight to your core. Another rush of arousal pooled within you, gritting your teeth down to prevent yourself from screaming. The coil that built up in your core was dangerously close to snapping, and Joel felt it. 

“That’s it, my sweet girl. Cum for me. Wanna feel you.” Joel’s voice was strained once more, teetering on the edge himself. You cried out as your orgasm washed over your body, tingling from the strong waves of pure sensation that struck you. 

His name fell from your lips repeatedly like a chant, and it was only then when you clenched around him once more that he spiraled and lost all control. He stilled, thrusting into you sporadically as he released everything he had into you. 

You sucked in a sharp breath as Joel pulled out of you, plopping next to you on the bed. He pulled you into him and kissed the crown of your head, smiling down at you. 

“Did so good for me, baby.” Joel murmured, rubbing your arm up and down. 

“Thank you.” You say quietly, nuzzling right into his warm body. 

“Told you daddy would always take care of you, didn’t I sweetheart?” He coos, brushing your mascara-tear stained cheek with his thumb. 

“Mhm.” 

Joel chuckles at your completely fucked-out state, sighing as he sits up. He goes to get a washcloth to clean you up, and looks down at you with a sickening smirk after he throws the washcloth in his hamper.

“Which flavor of tea for today, sweetheart? I know that throat is going to be sore by tomorrow.” 

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tags: @ilovepedro ; @tinygarbage ; @bastardmandennis ; @nostalxgic ; @joelmillers-whore ; @janaispunk ; @joelscurls ; @kajashe ; @hyzer34 ; @littlegrungegirlaf ; @amanitacowboy