#he looks like he's going to devour her
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LIKE HE'S SO FUCKING PATHETIC
#please know i mean pathetic affectionatly#he looks like he's going to devour her#like if he doesn't put his mouth on hers he will die on spot or jump off the nearest bridge#boy kissed her once and really went off the rails#fuck i love it#bridgerton#colin bridgerton#penelope featherington#colin x penelope#polin#ʚ laurs art ɞ#bridgerton spoilers
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Thinking about how Anthony Bridgerton’s forehead crease
The one that doesn’t even go away when he’s sleeping
Only fully disappears when he’s kissing Kate
#bridgerton season 3#anthony bridgerton#kate sharma#kate sharma x anthony bridgerton#kanthony#bridgerton analysis#bridgerton#😭😭😭#he gets clowned for devouring her with his kisses#but like look at their impact#outdoing botox#her kiss heals his soul extends his lifespan and erases his forehead crease#of course my man is going purple from a lack of air and doing the most#it’s the elixir of youth!!!#and he’s the only one lucky enough to obtain it
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Someone had asked me for one of my infamous MCs negative traits, so I decided to do pos/neut/neg traits for all five of them. According to me. Going for at least two-four in each category.
Ori Zhou
Pos
Even-tempered
Cheery
Organized.
Honest
Neut
Trusting
Creative
Childlike
Diligent
Neg
Low Self-Esteem
Self-Blaming
Reckless
Idealistic
Lala Sandoval
Pos
Accepting.
Loyal.
Perceptive.
Neut
Unbothered. Unruffled.
Teasing.
Independent
Neg
Sarcastic.
(Lowkey) Apathetic.
Hiyam Vinke
Pos
Dogged
Humorous
Neut
Self-sufficient
Hard-working
Deliberate (structured/pointed)
Flirty.
Neg
Unfriendly Hottie Aggressive
Unrepentant.
Bethany Josnel Coleman
Pos
Helpful.
Supportive
Neut
Shy
Responsible
Studious
Neg
Cuts ties sharply
Reserved/Introverted
Alana Carita
Pos
Loyal
Curious
The North Remembers
Kind
Neut
Romantic
Level-headed
Dramatic
Neg
Romantic
Rose-colored contacts (not even glasses, they’re on the eyeballs)
Clingy
The North Sometimes Draws Patterns From Past Experiences
#grapecase answers#my infamous mcs#meet my ocs#oc: ori zhou#oc: lala sandoval#oc: hiyam vinke#oc: josnel coleman#oc: alana carita#infamous if#ori is easiest bc i wrote an app for him before -- for a game#victoria and gigi are gonna DEVOUR him but he'll keep them steady#so it works out#when he told gigi to look up front during the demo. i knew it'd work out#ori is at times foolish (ie letting emotions make him a mess) and sometimes he doesnt GET beats. but he tries so hard to do the right thing#i love my fluffleluff#clearly i knowo some better than others#but im figuring them out as i go along#which is fun#like ive played alana before but there is a different exploration to playing her in an if like this one vs short otome vn#it is still so strange that people outside a couple of my moots care about mysilly little play people#ever so flattered <3
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Got told today by a friend that Roy looks like a cross between Grendel and Jesus Christ, which... I suppose is one way to describe him, but more notably marks the second time a friend of mine compared Roy to Jesus, which must mean something.
#Shut the heck your up mouth Roy#She refers to him strictly as Grendel - as in the descendant of Cain creature of darkness and devourer of mankind Grendel#not by physical description obviously just by the vibe alone#Other choice quotes from this friend though include 'that's disgusting--' 'he's my husband' '...but maybe he's got a lovely personality!'#I told her 'You know this is the second time someone said that to me' and she was like 'well he /looks/ like Jesus!'#The first time that comparison happened was when a friend told me Roy 'looks much better with hair cause he looks like stoner Jesus'#Unrelated but a teacher accidentally renamed me to Alexander recently (we don't even have an Alexander in class to mix us up??)#and I'm like this close to making a couple of MaxRoy adjacent OCs to go with the random renames lol#Wouldn't be the first people in the Roylore named after literary characters... that would be Stella and Stanley#I mean aside from being the terror of the Danes you gotta admit dude's got a really nice sounding name. I like it anyway.#Unrelated unrelated but Roy being the descendant of Cain in the literary sense sounds exactly like the sort of thing that'd give me ideas...
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I need reader who's shy/easily embarrassed, and Sukuna who just pops up whenever to say the most unhinged out of pocket shit on the side of Yuji's face just to see her go bright red.
read fic here
Sukuna who takes the opportunity to lick her face when Yuji tries to reach out and move some hair from her face. The gasp she let's out is choked, and Sukuna grins as Yuji is quick to pull away with a sound of disgust.
"That's not all I can do with my tongue. I'll show you one of these days, when the brat let's me out to play." It's a threat and a promise. Sukuna can't wait to take the drivers seat and devour her.
Sukuna who taunts the both of them for his own amusement, keeping her walking on eggshells whenever she's around Yuji
Who pops an eye open to watch as she bends over to pick something up, taking a moment to admire her ass before he opens his mouth. And when he finally does, "I cant see the swell of your cunt, bend some more for me." Yuji's quick to slap a hand over his cheek and ignore the sting, only for Sukuna to make his way to the back of his hand and cackle
Sukuna who isn't paying attention to what the brats are doing until he hears her moaning. Cracking an eye opened to see she's putting food in her mouth, eyes closed and a faint smile pulling at her lips.
"Do you always moan like that when you put things in your mouth? Or are you just showing off for me." She nearly chokes on the food, eyes going wide and cheeks burning red as she looks at him.
Sukuna who refuses to acknowledge the fact he enjoys her reactions for anything more than his own entertainment.
But who does start to notice the subtle change in Yuji's behavior towards her
Who makes it his new goal in life -to keep himself entertained of course, no other reason- to make the both of them so uncomfortable in each other's presence.
Because if he can't physically toy with his new (not favorite) human, he'll gladly do it from the passengers seat of his vessel and make everyone involved miserable.
@saiki-enthusiast here's the tag!! I hope you enjoy 😊 I have a fic that's like a follow up to this that I'm still working on, it's a little dark/ noncon though, if anyone was interested!
#jjk#sukuna jjk#sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#sukuna#sukuna ryomen#sukuna hcs#I did the thing ayee#sukuna smut#jjk x reader#jjk smut#yuji headcanons#jjk x you#sukuna ryoumen smut
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was just thinking of price punishing his younger gf, by having her naked body pressed to the floor, and her ass perched in the air, just a few feet in front of his desk. he nudges her knees apart, so he can get a better view of her pussy. and he just goes about doing whatever the fuck he does, and he has her there for hours-- her knees aching and back sore from the sharp arch that he's put her in.
john looks up from a piece of paperwork, and he can see the way her pussy flutters; see the way her stomach heaves softly, the soft pushing movement making her pussy leak; juices pooling from her hole, down her swollen folds, and then to her inner thighs. she's creamy and slick; literally dripping onto the carpet, and john is suddenly salivating. and she's been a good girl, no complaints and minimal whines and pleas-- that he can't help but push back from his chair, knocking it over in his haste to get to her.
she's too out of it to really comprehend what's happening before she's mewling out, thighs quivering almost violently as his tongue is suddenly thick and hot against her pussy. john swallows down her slick like a man starved, each curl and pull of his tongue full of her cream, and he rumbles deep in his chest like some kind of beast. his large, meaty hands grip the fat of her hips almost bruisingly as he devours her quivering cunt, her taste has him feral. she babbles mindlessly, her eyes rolled back; clit fat and stiff in his mouth.
and it takes him an hour or so to finally pull away from her pussy; she's a pile of overstimulated flesh, her plush little mouth parted and saliva dribbling down her chin, she looks like she's going to pass out but the only thing john does is push his thick, long cock into her pussy and fuck her into the carpet, her knees sliding and burning. this was a punishment after all.
#call of duty smut#captain john price#captain price#captain john price smut#captain price smut#john price x reader#writers on tumblr#call of duty#cod mw3#captain john price x reader#captain price x reader#call of duty modern warfare#cod modern warfare#DADDY PRICE#captain price x you#deunmiu dessie#bravo six#sloppy#messy writing#just girly thoughts#just girly things#john price smut#tw age gap#tw age difference
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His Sacrifice
Summary: Aemond makes the decision to save the one he loves over his brother.
Reader is Rhaenyra's daughter and is in a secret relationship with Aemond
WC: 1.5 K
Tumblr is a piece of shit that deleted the request but to whoever sent this, hope you enjoy xx
Part 2
~~
The screams of men below were almost inaudible over the roar of her dragon. She felt powerful, she felt vindictive, a smug satisfaction washing over her as she decimated the Green army below, the traitors who dared to usurp her mother.
Yet her heart was aching.
Her eyes scanned the skyline, nervously awaiting Vhagar’s presence, awaiting his presence.
Her throat tightened and she blinked rapidly to stave off the tears that threatened to fall. She’d cried enough tears over him, over the divide that wedged between them, threatening to break them apart completely. She had to be done.
A trill made her perk up, looking over her shoulder, her eyes wide, her chest aching, but as she caught sight of the smaller, gold dragon headed her way, her devastation soon turned to anger.
Aegon.
Her face shifted, her agony now hatred. Her teeth grit with effort as she pulled at the reins, swooping dangerously close to the soldiers below her, a smirk painting her lips at their cries of terror.
“Vermithor… attack.”
The dragon below her roared, a mighty sound that shook the bones of those who watched from below.
She distantly heard Aegon’s call and held onto the handles of the saddle in a white-knuckled grip as she swerved out of the way of the stream of fire Sunfyre spat at her. She winced, flinching away from the barrage of flames that met her too closely.
The dragons fought a vicious and bloody fight, Vermithor’s talons tearing Sunfyre across her belly, her cries echoing, shaking the ground below.
Over her dragon’s head that now had the other poor dragon’s neck in his jaws, she met Aegon’s eyes, her gaze alight with hateful glee as she noticed the fear in his eyes.
But suddenly, his expression shifted, a smile growing as he breathed out in relief.
Turning, she saw the enormous figure of Vhagar looming forward, like a killer stalking its prey, ready to devour her with ease.
Her heart dropped, the grip on the reins slipping from her hands, as if she already accepted her fate.
Swallowing against the lump in her throat that grew, she closed her eyes, refusing to see the look on her lover’s face as he ended her.
~~
They met in the dead of night, as they always had, meeting on a nondescript island halfway between Dragonstone and King’s Landing.
He was already waiting for her as she descended from the skies, landing Vermithor beside the hulking figure of Vhagar.
He was approaching her before she could unsaddle herself.
His hands were on her before her feet met the ground.
She was brought into his arms before she could say a word. She embraced him as she always did, desperately, as if it would be their last. With the state of their families, it might just be.
“Are you alright?” She asked worriedly as she pulled out of his arms, her eyes frantically searching for his face, finding only despair.
“You cannot go tomorrow.” He told her swiftly.
“What-”
“They commanded me to take Vhagar to Rook’s Rest.”
Her face remained impassive as she took in his words, though the storm that raged within her was devastating, shattering every ounce of hopeful excitement she’d felt when she received his raven to meet her that night.
“Aemond, I-”
“You cannot go. Please.” He begged her.
Her gaze met his and the frantic desperation she saw in his lone eye stirred sadness within her, the divide between their families that had slowly been tearing them apart delivering another fatal blow.
“I have to. You know I have to.” She answered quietly, mournfully, as if she was already accepting her fate. She couldn’t fight Vhagar, she couldn’t win against him.
He cursed and took a step away from her, placing his hand over his mouth as he tried hard to rein in his anger, his fear of what would happen to her, to them, as they met on the battlefield.
They always knew it would happen eventually, but it didn’t mean they were ready for it. They had been content to live in a fantasy together, as if they could pretend they weren’t living their reality, that they could’ve lived a happy life together.
He stepped towards her again, taking her face in his hands.
“Please, you cannot- I cannot-” He stammered and let out a shaking breath, his tortured gaze locked on hers. “Love, please, don’t go.”
“We always knew this would happen.”
His anger flared at the resolution he heard in her voice, at how quickly she was willing to accept this, that they were to meet on the battlefield, with only one of them returning victorious. He couldn’t accept it, he wouldn’t.
He shook his head wordlessly, his brows furrowed as if in pain. Her arms wrapped around him and he was quick to return the hug, holding her to him tightly. He let out a shaking breath, his eyes squeezing shut as he held her, silently praying it wouldn’t be for the last time.
“We should’ve left while we still had the chance.” She spoke with a small laugh that held nothing but sadness. Aemond nodded, his hands gripping her firmer, his thoughts a mirage of what their life would be if he had taken her up on her offer to escape to Essos all those years ago.
He desperately wished he had agreed.
“Whatever happens tomorrow-”
“Don’t.” He begged, his heart already aching at the thought of what they would face.
“Whatever happens,” She repeated more sternly as she looked at him intently. “It won’t change what we have. Nothing will change how I feel about you, even if I cannot feel anything at all.”
He practically shuddered at the thought, the mere notion of losing her too much to fathom and bowed his head until his forehead met hers, their shaking breaths shared.
“I’ll love you even after the end.”
He couldn’t hear any more. He kissed her firmly, pouring every bit of love he had for her and had felt for her for years into every caress of his lips, every tantalizing swipe of his tongue, every heated touch that he bestowed onto her beautiful body he had worshiped in secret.
~~
I’ll love you even after the end
The words echoed in his mind all night. As he left her side to return to King’s Landing before the sun rose, they wouldn’t leave his head, torturing him over and over again, until he felt as though he couldn’t take another breath.
Now, as he sat atop Vhagar, eyeing the battle in the skies above with bated breath, he knew he had only one choice to make.
A choice that came all too easily, a choice he would make again each and every time.
He commanded Vhagar to fly, her large frame taking to the skies slowly, his eye locked onto Vermithor, his heart in his throat as he saw her small frame duck out of the way just in time before Sunfyre’s jaws locked onto her.
He felt nothing but relief as Vermithor trapped Aegon’s dragon in his jaws, he felt nothing as his brother’s dragon cried out in pain.
But the blinding rage he felt as he watched Sunfyre swiped her claws against Vermithor’s face, dangerously close to her, made his blood boil.
His hands clenched, his jaw tight, his lone eye dark with resolve as he soon accepted the consequences he would face, the judgment the Gods would place on him.
But he didn’t care. He would slay his brother if it meant she lived. He would slay millions to save her, without thought.
“Dracarys!” He yelled, his eye remaining on Aegon who tried to shield himself from the flames that descended upon him. He grunted as Vhagar crashed against Vermithor, harshly nudging the dragon out of the way, Vermithor growling menacingly at Vhagar, before jerking to the side, her command of the reins forcing her dragon not to engage.
He watched, his heart racing, as she flew away from the scene, away from Aegon as he fell alongside Sunfyre’s broken and burning body.
He paid little mind to anything else and followed after her. They flew for a few minutes, away from the chaos of battle, away from any prying eyes that would reveal their secret.
He descended just a second after her, landing Vhagar next to Vermithor, his hands shaking as he undid his ties, jumping down his dragon’s frame unsteadily.
“What the fuck was that?!” She yelled as she stomped towards him, tears in her eyes, unsure of what to make of the emotions overwhelming her. “Do you know what you have just done?”
He ignored her yells and grabbed her hands, pulling her to him, his arms wrapping around her tightly. She squirmed in his grip for a moment, her adrenaline still thrumming through her veins, before finally giving in as she felt him shaking against her.
She let out a trembling breath, her arms coming up to wind around him. She let her eyes fall closed as his hand rested on the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair.
“What did you do?” She asked wearily, her voice hoarse and weak with exhaustion.
“What I had to.”
#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen#house of the dragon#aemond targaryen fanfic#aemond targaryen fic#house of the dragon fic
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18+ mdni; fem!reader
knight!suguru is more than glad to drop to his knees for his beloved princess.
his rough hands bunch up the skirt of your dress with haste, his pruple eyes blown wide with lust as you try to grab onto his shoulders for support. your knees feel weak, your body shaking with a mixture of excitement and pure adrenaline – this is improper, you shouldn't be doing this.
but oh, how good does it feel.
how good the knight's fingers feel as they dance on your skin, the tips of them ghosting over the soft material of your soaking undergarments. with his face hidden under your skirt, you can only imagine the hungry look he's wearing as they prepare to eat their heart out after a long, tiring day.
you rest against a bookshelf in the dark library, letting the wooden planks press into your upper back, into your soft skin. candlelight flickers across your flustered face, it being the only audience you could ever possibly allow.
what you're doing is risky, it's dangerous – but neither of you can fight the need any longer.
a quiet gasp echoes through the empty library when suguru presses a gentle kiss your core, his fingers tugging on your underwear. he can feel your legs tremble, he can feel the goosebumps on your skin; just like you imagine his expression, suguru does the same – how dark and low your eyes would be, how swollen your pretty lips. he'll get to see it all later, the masterpiece that is your blissed out face after he're done devouring you.
as his tongue lays flat against your needy cunt, the room gets flooded with hushed mewls; taking a hand from suguru's shoulder, you slot it in front of your mouth but the palm does very little to contain the sounds of pleasure that suffocate you. alongside with those, the noises that emit from under your skirt - your body feels as if its on fire.
suguru's hands knead your thighs – the very same hands that have killed, that have taken lives, are now caressing your skin with the utmost care and tenderness the knight could ever possibly muster up. this is his job afterall – to take care and to proctect, in every way imaginable; whether it's him on his knees as they get a taste of the woman they have swore to protect, or it's him dying at the end of a blade for the woman they love – it's the suguru's desire to serve.
he sucks on your clit, he tongues at your folds, drowning in your scent as he pushes you closer to your high with his skilled mouth. your nails dig into his shoulder, with most of your weight now leant against him as your body threatens to go limp, your brain turning into a mush. cries of suguru's name fall from your lips like a waterfall, with the letters coated with sickly sweet honey that reel him deeper and deeper into her core.
the obscene sounds grow louder by the second with suguru now lapping at your cunt like a starved dog, his good manners long forgotten in his clouded mind. there's a whine on the tip of your tongue, a shy and embarrassed one, but suguru doesn't falter even a bit – instead, he moves to raise your thigh up onto his shoulder, the new angle making your eyes roll back into your head with a loud gasp.
with the other hand, suguru guides you to grind against his face, his nose catching your clit with every roll of your hips and all it takes for you to finally let go, is to hear your beloved knight moan into your sopping cunt.
the back of your head meets the wall behind you with a soft thud and your eyes screw themselves shut as your whole body tenses up; you try to close your legs by pressing your thigh into the suguru's face but it's of no use because he simply digs his fingers deeper into your plush flesh and forces them apart again, so he can keep burying his tongue inside you. suguru can't let any of it go to waste – not the moment, not the saccharine slick that fills his mouth.
you clutch onto your knight as he let you ride out the high, your mumbles of 'thank you's' not going unheard in his keen ears.
before he pull away, suguru places one last kiss to your clit, gentlly as ever; his calloused hands glide over your calves and thighs when he places your leg down onto the wooden floor. with his finger hooked under the material of your underwear, he tugs them down instead of up and taps on your foot for you to raise it.
finally poking his head out from under the skirt, both of you need a moment to collect yourselves; completely disheveled, sweaty and fucked out, panting and heaving – your eyes are still heavy with a flicker of something tender inside them.
you watch the knight pocket the ruined undergarments with a kind of sly grin.
for later.
suguru stays there down on his knees, staring up at you like you're the one that hung the stars in the sky. in his head, you did.
when you try to shove his face to escape the wave of embarrassment that's creeping up your throat but when your fingers meet the slick that's covering the entirety of suguru's lower half of his face, you can't help but cringe at yourself.
and suguru falls for you more. deeper, harder.
"can— can i kiss you?"
your words are but a mere whisper, afraid to see the light, but suguru welcomes them with open arms nonetheless. the corners of his lips tug upward, his hands itching to hold her.
"of course, sweetheart."
you hold each other's gaze as he stands, the rhythm of your chests rising and falling matching in pace.
delicate fingers play with the material of suguru's shirt, a certain nervousness flowing through you despite the fact that you've done this many times before. but you always get like this – a bit shy, a bit timid, wishing to nuzzle your face into the his chest to hide from his fond eyes, the attention suddenly too much. it's the effect he has on you. but you still wants the kiss, you still want the love.
so you push through.
suguru's hand raises to his mouth, his eyebrow quirks up when he sees your eyes grow wider. "don't you want me to wipe it off?"
burns, it burns.
your skin burns.
"no..."
and it burns even stronger, even brighter, at the sight of his wolfish grin, shis sharp canines glinting at you inthe soft candlelight.
"no?"
a tease.
a shake of your head.
a searing kiss. a touch of love.
#MEOWINGGGGGGGGGGGG#there might be typos in this actually i was kind of sleepy while writing it so forgive me..#wtf mickey can write#sugu#geto x reader#geto smut#geto suguru#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru smut#geto suguru drabble#geto#jjk geto#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen#mihime#hehe
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thinking about sugarbaby!reader batting her lashes when simon comes home. watching him come through the door, tossing his duffel onto the ground, grunting as he shuts the door behind him and cracks his neck from side-to-side as he eyes the pretty thing standing there waiting for him. (18+)
wearing that baby pink silk that he loves so much. the one that didn't put a dent in his wallet, even though it was outrageously expensive--but fuck was it worth it when he saw those gorgeous tits wrapped so delicately in it, fabric sitting soft and smooth like water. his mouth goes dry as his eyes focus on the skin there, knowing how you'll taste when he rips the thing off of you and puts his cock right back where it belongs.
your eyes meet. you smile, bright and sugary and sweet, and when he bends down to kiss you, he brings the weight of him down, too. he's vicious with it, teeth knocking against yours and tongue a little sloppy as he swallows the pretty sounds you make--simon-oh!
he watches with bated breath as you sink to your knees in front of him, your hands finding the laces of his boots and beginning to undo them. you tip your head back, looking up at him, and he lowers himself to look closer at you, pouty lips parted and waiting for him as he shoves two gloved fingers into your mouth and pries satisfaction from the gag that you choke down and settle with a soft suck.
a warm mouth. a pretty cunt. a gorgeous girl, all for him, waiting like the lovesick kitten that she is for him to come home, for him to devour, for him to indulge in.
and when you let his fingers go and kiss his blood-soaked palms with a whimpering, "thank you for your service," he knows this is the only place he will ever know the truth of it all.
#hi pay for me and ill be here baby#:D#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost mw2#ghost cod#ghost call of duty#ghost mwii#ghost x reader#cod#call of duty#simon thoughts
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novacane - ʟɴ⁴
in which, lando is completely and utterly obsessed with his girlfriend, and can't seem to keep his hands off of her - especially when she's in that dress.
contains: NSFW; smut, oral (f recieving), fingering, body worship, p in v, unprotected sex, squirting, cockwarming; tiny bit of fluff at the end.
lando norris x unnamed female character
...
...
lando thought he was actually going to die. there in rome, he was sure of it. they had been together for two years at this point, and don't get him wrong, she always looked good - but something about the air in rome was making him fall in love with her all over again, and he was going feral.
the couple had decided to spend a few days in italy together, first venice, second maranello, and last rome.
venice had been brilliant, spending a few days with max and pietra, exploring the city together, and many other late night activities. maranello had been nothing if not wholesome, that being where his beloved girlfriend's family lived - lando having rekindled his bromance with her dad and older brother, and not to mention seeing his favourite dog again.
"can you help me with my heels, baby?" her voice snapped him out of his trance.
fucking hell.
she had walked out of the bathroom, looking like a divine treat for him to devour. it was a sundress - her sundresses always did unholy things to him - of course, and her tanned skin looked particularly endearing against the flimsy white material.
his mouth hung agape, eyes flitting over her body rapidly. his mouth could have (and almost did) water at the sight of his girlfriend, looking oh-so-innocent with her pretty eyes and glossy lips.
again, lando thought he was actually going to die.
"yeah, come here." lando gestured with his fingers, getting up so she could perch on the edge of the bed.
he got to his knees before her, grabbing her ankle gently and delicately tightened the clasp until it clung to her skin snugly, repeating the same action on her other ankle.
"thankyou, sweetheart." she responded, running her fingers through his hair briefly.
yep, he was definitely going to die.
...
if he thought he was going to die earlier, he was dead now.
she was sat there, fiddling with the necklace he'd bought her a few months ago, blinking at him through her lashes as she spoke about their plans for the rest of the summer break.
he could have actually fall to his knees in the restaurant right there and then - she looked utterly and completely irresistible.
"can we go now, please?" lando pleaded for around the third time.
he had asked her after they had finished his main course, and then after they'd finished their desserts, and now when they were having another drink.
"god, what's gotten into you?" she laughed as she swallowed the remainder of her wine.
"nothing, i just want to go home." he shrugged, trying not to let her onto the fact he was planning every single thing he was going to do to her once that hotel room door was closed.
"okay, weirdo." she shook her head with another laugh, before politely asking for the bill.
technically, it was her turn to pay for dinner - but lando never let her pay anyway. his credit card was being swiped across the card machine before she could even get hers out of her purse.
"let's go, come on."
...
as soon as that hotel door had latched shut behind her, lando turned into some sort of rabid animal with no self control.
she found herself pinned up against the door very quickly, dress bunched up at her hips as he began his assault on her neck.
“god… needed you since i seen you earlier.” lando murmured, hoisting her legs up around his waist.
“yeah?” she nodded, arching her eyebrows as her eyes fluttered shut.
“mhm.” he hummed, his hand shifting to her lower back as she was then moved to her feet. “look so pretty — turn around for me?”
she spun her heel slowly, allowing lando to effortlessly pull on the delicate white bow, the thin straps loosening and falling below her shoulders. his hand trailed back down her arms, pulling the dress down and allowing it to fall to a puddle at their feet.
“so gorgeous.” he whispered, hot breath fanning the back of her shoulder — before his hands whipped her around to face him again.
"you think?" she responded quietly.
"of course, pretty girl." he pressed a kiss to the side of her neck, before spinning her round and walking her backwards to the bed - eye contact very, very intense.
a gentle shove rendered her flat on the bed, propped up on her elbows shortly after her back hit the soft mattress. just as he'd done earlier, lando dropped to his knees and now started to remove her heels.
god, she looked divine.
she was now only wearing the prettiest white lace underwear, but lando was trying not to focus on it - due to the fact that he was painfully hard, and that if he looked at her, all of his self-control would fly out of the hotel door (not that she would have minded that.)
a quick toss of the heels behind him made soft thuds in the room, but lando was already softly kissing up from her ankle to her inner thighs, rendering her unable to think about anything else.
"god..." she breathed out, tossing her head back as he skimmed his nose over the delicate fabric of her panties.
a soft chuckle reverberated through her from lando, he was literally laughing into her pussy - how hot could this man get?
"someone's needy." he whispered, lips brushing against the lace once again, resulting in her clenching around nothing.
"shut up." she whined. "just do something, please?"
"as you wish, baby." he mumbled, tugging her underwear down effortlessly and discarding them across the room.
he was like a man starved, denied of watching his girlfriend squirm underneath him for a mere few hours - that seemed to feel like years.
not that she needed any sort of lube, she was soaking wet by the time lando's thumb circled over her clit agonising slowly, but lando felt it necessary still to let a string of his saliva drip down on her aching cunt, spreading it adequately around with his tongue.
she was just about to beg, but he latched his lips onto her before the pleads could leave her lips. the noises made between his lips and hers were disgustingly hot, his fingers slowly beginning to prod at her entrance, teasing her tightness. his tongue drew shapes on her clit, he was spelling his fucking name, and she was seeing stars when a thick middle finger slid into her.
over and over again the same shapes danced over her heat, and lando slowly began to curl his finger to push against her g-spot. an almost pornographic moan left her lips as she felt the pressure of his index finger alongside his middle finger inside of her - whines and whimpers now a constant sound in the room.
they weren't just from her either, when her hips pushed into his face, lando wasn't ashamed to let a low groan out, the vibrations making her back arch up off of the bed - only for her to quickly be pushed back down by a veiny hand.
"fuck.. lando..." she moaned airly, a hand clutching onto his hair for dear life.
the soft bite to her clit was what sent her over the edge and into space. her legs shook around his head, the most lewd moans tumbling loudly from her lips. he pumped his fingers in and out of her and kitten-licked her through her orgasm, allowing her to float on her cloud of ecstasy for a little longer as she spasmed around him.
"you with me, pretty?" he softly spoke, now having moved his hands from her heat to her ribs, gently rubbing his thumbs up and down.
"yeah." she panted, nodding her head. "so fucking good."
he laughed airily, pressing soft kisses from her lower stomach up to her pillowy lips - swollen from how much she'd bitten down on them over the past few minutes.
their kiss was soft and gentle, she could taste herself on his lips, making her grow all-the-more wet again.
"take this off." she murmured into his lips, making a small noise resembling both a laugh and a whimper leave his lips as she tugged at his shirt.
he began to unbutton his shirt, while her hands frantically made their way down to his dress pants, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his trousers. both items of clothing were quickly a puddle on the floor, his boxers swiftly following.
lando's necklace dangled down and rested just below her chin, then sitting comfortably on the centre of her neck as he kissed her again - teeth clashing and tongues pushing against each other for dominance (lando won, obviously.)
the hand that wasn't holding his body up above her, made its way down to his erection, running it up and down her slit to lube it.
breaking the kiss, the look in his eyes asked her the inevitable, and a quick nod followed.
the tip of his cock pressed into her, still stretching her out. you would have thought that after almost three years of very frequent sex, both would get used to the other - but no, every time they felt each other, it was like the first time all over again.
she quite literally fluttered around him, eyes squeezing shut as he bottomed out a few moments later. a low groan escaped his lips, cut short when he realised her eyes were closed.
"hey, eyes open, baby." he whispered, tapping her cheek gently. "want to see the look in your eyes when you fall apart, yeah?"
pretty eyes met his once again as she blinked up at him, some form of a moan leaving her lips as he spoke to her - how could such dirty words come from a man who looked like a fucking angel?
"good girl." he nodded, pressing a small kiss to her nose as he began to slowly thrust in and out.
now, usually, rough sex was lando's thing - but there was something about the way she looked up at him, it made him want to fuck her nice and gentle, slow and deep - so he did.
his strokes were fucking delicious, taming the fire in her lower belly in just the right way - a way that was building the indescribably incredible knot thick and slow. something was different, it was overwhelmingly good - the softest yet neediest moans tumbling from her lips at an almost alarming rate.
maybe every other deep thrust, she'd clench around him, even more blood rushing to his throbbing cock - he wasn't really sure if it was her that was pulsing around him or it was himself, but either way, it felt fucking good.
his lips made their way to her boobs subconsciously, feeling as if he'd neglected them. swirling his tongue around one hard nipple, he slid two fingers inside of her mouth to wet his fingers - before returning them to the nub his mouth wasn't paying delicate attention to, pinching and pressing the pads of his fingers to them.
sensitive from her previous high, the next one was encroaching quickly, warmth spreading to her inner thighs and lower tummy. he could immediately tell she was close. there were tell-tale signs - loud moans would turn to quiet, short, sharp whimpers, she'd become grabby with her hands - needing something to clutch onto as she fell into the abyss of ecstasy - simultaneously clenching around him so tightly that sometimes she'd accidentally restrict his movement - and all were currently taking place.
"go on, pretty girl, cum for me."
she was so gone.
lando's back suffered as her nails scratched into it, leaving red lines painted across the muscles - his trainers wouldn't ask any questions, it's not as if they hadn't seen worse marks before anyway.
she tried so so hard to keep her eyes open, but it was just too hard. her eyes fluttered closed as her mouth hung agape, eyebrows arched as her nose scrunched up a little - lando wanted the image etched onto his retinas.
she gushed all over him, pretty liquid squirting from her cunt, painting his abdomen shiny as the juices splattered on him.
she thought she was going to die, and she would happily like this.
that was actually all it took for him. hot ropes of cum spilled deep into her, stuffed up against her cervix as he tried his hardest to keep thrusting into her - his hips stuttering as he started to get a little overstimulated.
slowly but surely, the two came down from their mind-blowing highs, lando rolling them over so she was laid on top of him, her walls still unconsciously clenching and fluttering around him.
"you good, baby?" he whispered, his hands rubbing up and down her back.
"think so, tired now." she smiled wearily, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, before letting her head roll down into the crook of his neck.
"want to sleep or clean up?" lando asked softly, running his fingers through her hair.
"sleep, definitely."
#formula one#fanfiction#f1 fanfic#formula 1#lando norris smut#lando norris one shot#lando norris#f1 2024#lando norris x oc#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#whorelandonorris
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Honey love, dark eyes
♡ Chapter one ♡
Summary: Joel Miller has been your best friend for four years, and your trust in him is as solid as ever. However, things go awry one night after a heated argument, and you find yourself in a position you never thought you'd be in: naked, underneath him, with his eyes devouring you like there's no tomorrow. And when you wake up the next morning, you know it right away, reality piercing your chest; things will never be the same again.
Word count: 9.4K
A/N: Okay, I was planning for the first chapter to be 4K words MAX, but my imagination went crazy with this lol I really hope you like it. I really enjoyed writing this <3 don't forget to leave feedback, tell me what you think!
If you want to be on the tag list, let me know too.
You met him on the night of your twenty-second birthday, at the small party Cassie had put together for you in her dimly lit apartment. You hadn’t wanted much of a celebration, nothing bigger than a few close friends, and certainly not a group of strangers. But when Brianna swept in, holding hands with a man you didn’t know, and introduced him as her boyfriend, you felt a vague flicker of annoyance, the kind that accompanies unmet expectations.
"I thought it was just going to be us," you mumbled to Cassie, catching her in the kitchen as she poured herself another glass of wine.
She looked at you, her cheeks already flushed, eyes bright. "They're a few of my friends, too; they’re nice—you’ll like them if you give it a chance." She smiled, urging you to relax, as though she could tease you out of your mood. "It’s your birthday; don’t be so sullen."
"I didn’t know Brianna was bringing her boyfriend," you said quietly, as Cassie started back to the living room.
She paused, giving you a half-smile over her shoulder. "Neither did I, actually," she admitted, lowering her voice. "Apparently, they've been together for about a month. She’s really into him."
And she was. Brianna clung to him all night, her laughter spilling out freely, unrestrained and buoyant from the wine. It wasn’t long before someone suggested karaoke, and as voices rang out in the next room, you slipped quietly back into the kitchen, craving a moment of solitude. You were surprised to find Brianna’s boyfriend there, leaning against the counter, scrolling absently through his phone with a glass of water in hand.
He looked up, straightened, and offered you a tentative smile. “Oh, hi. Happy birthday,” he said, his voice warm but reserved. “Sorry, I didn’t get a chance to say it earlier…”
“No worries,” you replied, your tone reassuring. “Thanks.”
He hesitated, as though weighing what to say next. “Are you having a good time?”
You gave a slight shrug. “It’s…” but before you could finish, he cut in with a knowing smile.
“It’s okay. I don’t love my birthday either.” His eyes glinted in the soft kitchen light, and you felt a small smile tugging at your own lips.
You looked at him then, really looked at him, allowing yourself the indulgence. “I didn’t want to admit it,” you said, feeling the faintest hint of heat rising to your cheeks. “What was your name again?”
“Joel,” he answered, his gaze drifting briefly back to his phone. “Sorry, I’m a little on edge tonight. Left my daughter with a new babysitter. I think she’s having a rough time.”
Your eyebrows rose in mild surprise; you hadn’t pegged him as a dad. You moved closer, pouring yourself a glass of orange juice and asked, “How old is she?”
“Four. Her name’s Sarah.” He ran a hand through his hair, and you could tell he was tense. “It’s only the second time she’s been with this sitter, and apparently, she’s been crying all evening.”
“Oh, poor thing,” you murmured sympathetically. “She’s little. Changes like that must be hard on her.”
He sighed, his gaze drifting to the side as he typed something quickly on his phone. “I should probably get going. Brianna won’t love that idea; we’d planned to stay out…” He paused, eyes flicking up to meet yours, worry etched across his face. “You think she’ll be too mad?”
“No,” you assured him, though you knew Brianna wouldn’t be pleased. “Go be with your daughter. She’s little; she needs you. Brianna will understand.”
A grateful smile spread across Joel’s face, and for the first time, you noticed the faint dimple on his cheek. For a fleeting second, you wanted to reach out, trace it with your thumb.
“Thanks,” he murmured, his eyes lingering on you in a way that felt unintentional, yet steady. “I hope your night gets better once karaoke is over,” he added with a quiet laugh. "Wish me luck."
You chuckled, meeting his gaze. “Good luck, Joel.”
He left with that same soft smile, and you watched him go, his warm brown eyes leaving an odd impression, like an unclaimed memory. And, as expected, Brianna didn’t understand. She spent the rest of the night sulking, casting sharp words at Joel through her bitterness.
“You knew he had a daughter when you got with him, this was bound to happen at some point,” Cassie told her, fed up with the other's complaints.
You didn't hear the answer, as you were distracted by watching the colorful pictures someone had put on the television.
You heard nothing more from Joel for a couple of weeks, until Cassie blurted out the gossip one morning while you were having lunch at her house.
“He broke up with her,” she began to tell you. “He told her she wasn't being empathetic and that he couldn't drop everything to party with her as if they had no responsibilities.”
It was no surprise. Brianna was a woman who lived at night; she was twenty-three years old and enjoyed it with the freedom that was rightfully hers. You couldn't blame her for wanting to have fun with her boyfriend. But Joel lived a very different reality than she did; at twenty-eight, he had a daughter to take care of, routines to follow, and a lot of work to do.
Although you thought it would take her longer to get over him, it wasn't long before she met a guy at her gym and got into it with him, outgrowing Joel in a matter of days. But for some reason, Joel’s warm, steady gaze stayed with you, like a whisper that hadn’t fully faded.
Years passed quietly, slipping through your fingers like sand until, suddenly, it was your twenty-sixth birthday. This time, the scene was different: you’d moved into your own place just two days earlier, and there was little thought of celebrating. Instead, the weekend found you alone, arranging your things and attempting to bring order to the chaos of a new home.
It was a crisp Saturday morning, and you stood in your front yard with a glass of fresh-squeezed orange juice in hand, humming along to some eighties tune drifting in from the living room. The song—one of those upbeat ones that made even housework feel light—had lifted your spirits, and you moved rhythmically as you pushed plastic flowers into the dirt along the front path, sending little puffs of air to make the petals flutter.
You were lost in your task when you heard soft footsteps behind you, instinctively making you turn.
“Oh, hello,” you said, quickly masking the slight surprise the girl’s sudden appearance had given you.
She looked at you with wide, curious eyes, seemingly unfazed by her solo adventure.
“Hi. What’s your name? Do you live here?” she asked, her gaze shifting from your face to the flowers in your hands.
Glancing around for any sign of her parents, you noted her relaxed stance, like she’d been coming here all her life. Smiling, you nodded and gave her your name. “Yep, I just moved in.”
She looked unimpressed. “This house was empty for a while. I didn’t like the kid who lived here before. He was a pain in the ass—”
“Sarah!” came a sharp voice from behind, making you jump slightly. Heavy footsteps approached, and you squinted against the sun to see a figure striding toward you, his features obscured by the bright morning light.
When he stepped closer, his face came into focus, and your breath caught. You knew him.
“Sarah, you can’t just leave the house like that,” he said sternly, a furrow in his brow, his tone more parental than reproachful.
He turned to you, and the scowl softened as recognition dawned.
“Joel,” you murmured, the name slipping out before you even meant to say it aloud.
His expression shifted into a surprised smile, and that was all it took to break the ice between you. You explained that you’d just moved in and were still settling. Joel offered to help with anything you needed, including taking a look around the house to ensure everything was in order. He formally introduced you to Sarah, now eight years old, who had nearly scared him to death by sneaking out. She had his same lively spark in her eyes, a brightness that seemed familiar.
That evening, Sarah invited you to dinner with them, leaving Joel with little choice but to agree. And one dinner became many, as evenings blurred into weekends, and you found Joel’s presence in your life weaving into something inseparable from your routine. He started popping by to help with small projects, fixing kitchen cabinets or adjusting the wobbly front steps, visits stretching into movie marathons or lazy conversations with cold beer in hand. Days flowed into evenings of chatting over the meals you cooked to share with Sarah, and sometimes her uncle Tommy. Though Joel claimed he was no cook, his barbecues were legendary, and you couldn’t deny you looked forward to them most of all. And soon enough, he was there for everything, from driving you to doctor’s appointments to accompanying you on those grocery runs he pretended to hate. He even started showing up early on days he knew you’d need a ride. Over time, he became the best friend you’d ever had, a safe place, someone who felt like family. With everyone else scattered—Cassie overseas, old friends moved away—Joel became your rock.
It wasn’t something you dared to admit to yourself often, but you couldn’t imagine your life without him. And maybe that’s why you never allowed yourself to voice those little fleeting thoughts, the ones that flitted through your mind every now and then: how safe you felt whenever he threw his arm around your shoulders, or how good he looked reclining on his couch after a long day. Or how perfect it felt when the three of you—Sarah dozing on his lap, you leaning into his shoulder—sat together in the warm silence of a Sunday afternoon. There was an ache, too, a quiet pang whenever he mentioned another woman. Thankfully, that was rare; Joel once told you, with a shrug, that he “wasn’t really looking for that sort of thing.”
Sometimes, you watched him carefully as you talked about your own dates, hoping to catch a glimmer of jealousy in his gaze, some subtle cue that maybe he felt the same way. But there was never anything you wanted to see, and you always felt silly for looking. So, you buried it all. The risk of ruining things with Joel wasn’t worth the confession.
One afternoon, however, your emotions almost escaped your eyes when, while preparing Joel's birthday cake, Sarah dropped a piece of news that caught you off guard. She told you, with her usual nonchalance, that Joel had gone out the night before with someone new.
“Yeah, it’s like… the third time they’ve gone out,” Sarah mentioned while spreading cream on the sponge cake. “I don’t know her name or anything, just that he met her in line at the bank,” a laugh choked in her throat, amused at imagining her father flirting with some woman in a public space.
You forced a smile, laughing along like it was funny.
"And who stayed with you last night?” you asked, trying to keep your tone casual.
Not that Sarah was necessarily a baby; she was already twelve and extremely independent. But Joel never left her alone if he went out for the night, he knew how much she loved spending time with you watching movies and eating junk food. Then, when he arrived, you would pester him with gossipy questions and he would pretend to get angry and then answer every one of them.
“Uncle Tommy," she said, eyeing her work with satisfaction. “We had fun, but I kinda wished you’d come too. Hey, what do you think?” she fingered the cream neatly arranged with the angled knife.
“It's perfect,” you smiled at her, not waiting too long to ask the question you wanted so badly. “Why didn't you call me then?”
Sarah started sprinkling colorful sprinkles on top of the cream and looked at you for a second when she noticed the tone in your voice at the last word. She didn't seem to think much of it.
“You were busy, weren't you? Dad said you had something to do.”
Her answer hit you like a small weight to the chest. Joel had purposefully left you out. He’d even made an excuse for Sarah’s benefit. So, there had been three dates—three times he’d kept this woman a secret. A small knot formed in your stomach as you forced yourself to smile, still watching Sarah as she concentrated on the last of the sprinkles.
In the kitchen, you were running your hand through the steam from the beef stew on the stove—Joel’s favorite—when the door opened. His footsteps grew louder, approaching, and you nervously adjusted the dress you’d chosen, one you knew he liked, though he’d never said it. It was your favorite too, a cream-colored sundress with delicate shoulder ties.
Sarah sprang forward, covering his eyes. “Don’t look, the table’s not ready.”
You hurried to set the glasses in their places, your hands a little shaky as you moved, hoping he wouldn’t notice the flush creeping up your cheeks.
“I don’t need to see it—I can smell it, and it smells incredible,” Joel grinned beneath Sarah’s tiny hands, which she’d plastered over his eyes, half to keep him from sneaking a glance, half just because she could.
“Too bad you don’t smell incredible,” Sarah retorted with a smirk, wrinkling her nose. "Go take a shower!"
You laughed, catching Joel’s raised brow at her.
“You’ve got five minutes,” you said, placing the lid on the simmering pot.
Joel snorted, brushing Sarah’s hands away from his face.
“That’s the smell of a hardworking man,” he replied, feigning offense as he turned for the stairs. “Y’all oughtta know.”
*
Later, the three of you sat around the table, and Joel took his first bite of the stew, eyes widening, a kind of bliss washing over his face. He tossed his head back and groaned.
“Sweet Glory,” he mumbled, closing his eyes. “Thank you for this.”
“Oh, come on,” you teased, though part of you couldn’t help but feel a pang of something between irritation and flattery. “You say that every time I cook for you.”
He shook his head, smiling as he chewed, then spoke softly, his gaze slipping downward.
“I’m not exaggerating—I love everything you do.” A pause, and then a quick, awkward clarification. “I mean, everything you cook.”
The clarification was like a line drawn in the sand, a boundary etched by his voice alone.
You smiled weakly and inwardly thankful when Sarah spoke, telling you about something that had happened at her school that week and distracting you from the question that was spellbinding your tongue. You were dying to ask it, to look him in the eye and ask: who did you go out with last night? Why didn't you tell me? Is it someone I know? Is that it?... But you didn't, you stayed quiet and participated in the pleasant conversation, celebrating his birthday as he deserved. After all, no matter how much it angered you that he kept things from you, it was still his special day.
After dinner, Sarah forced Joel to sit in front of his cake, two lit number candles glowing in front of him. You turned out the lights, watching as the light from the flames reflected beautifully in your best friend's dark pupils.
Joel was wearing a black T-shirt and dark jeans, his hair was still barely damp from the shower he'd taken before, and his sun-kissed tan face looked smooth, decorated by the beard and mustache you loved so much. Behind him, his shadow vibrated and spread across the wall with grandeur.
“Make a wish!” Sarah cheered, bouncing with excitement as she placed her small hands on his shoulders.
Joel smiled, closed his eyes, and blew out the candles. In the dimness, you leaned in and kissed his cheek softly.
“Happy birthday, old man,” you whispered, your hand resting gently on his neck.
He reached for your hand, pressing a warm, lingering kiss into your palm. ��I’m not that old,” he muttered with a mock frown.
Sarah giggled, holding a knife to cut the cake and licking a dab of frosting from her thumb. “You’ll be forty in four years,” she teased, catching your amused expression.
Joel scoffed, scratching his stomach as he stood back up, turning to you with a smile that made you forget, just for a moment, all the questions you were holding back. There was only Joel, his rumbling laugh, Sarah’s delighted giggles. It felt like home.
Sarah gave him his gift first: a copy of Curtis and Viper 2 with the deleted scenes and a mystery box. When he opened it, a smile formed on his lips.
He pulled out a weathered wristwatch, broken for months, now polished and repaired.
“I took it in to be fixed. Do you like it?” Sarah asked, eyes wide with anticipation.
Joel nodded, eyes softening as he extended his wrist for her to put it on. “It’s perfect, baby.”
“Let's watch the movie later,” Sarah said. “You can't fall asleep.”
“Let's see which one of us falls asleep first,” you joked, and you were right. Joel had been working all afternoon and Sarah had been yawning for hours.
You turned and picked up the box resting beside your feet, handing it to him. When he opened it, Joel pulled out a black cloth garment and a paper envelope. He tugged at the cloth, revealing a thick, soft jacket. He read the label and a smile appeared on his lips.
“I saw it and thought of you,” you said, mimicking his gesture.
“How much did you pay for this?”
“Don't worry about it, it had to be yours,” you noted as you stood up and took it from his hand. “Here, stand up. Let's see how it fits you.”
“And what if it doesn't fit? Do we have to travel to Rome to exchange it?”
You laughed, then helped him slide it over his shoulders, a comfortable, familiar movement.
“I know you by heart, I couldn't be wrong.”
“So?” he asked, smiling coquettishly. Your stomach tingled and you decided to ignore it.
“Lookin’ good, Dad,” Sarah chimed in, her innocent smile lighting up the moment. “Bet someone special will love it, too.”
Joel smiled weakly, as if he was trying to tell her something with his eyes, and for a second you hated the thought of your gift being enjoyed by someone else. You imagined him getting ready to go out with her -whoever she was-, running his hand through his hair and perfuming his neck as he did from time to time whenever he went out with someone. You knew that perfume perfectly, you'd recognize it anywhere, though you were sure it wouldn't smell the same on anyone else. Joel added his own scent to it, and you loved it.
“Okay, now, open the envelope,” you urged, your voice unintentionally sharper than you meant.
Joel sat back down and opened the blue paper envelope. He read the note carefully and when he looked up, you and Sarah were looking at him excitedly.
“Sunshine, did you pay for this?” he asked you, a soft disbelief in his tone.
Inside were three plane tickets. Sarah had helped you pick the destination—somewhere none of you had been but would love.
When you nodded, he let out a soft sigh. “Let me cover part of it.”
You groaned, rolling your eyes. “It’s my birthday gift to you, Joel. It’s all settled. You need a vacation, and we certainly do too, don't we?”
“That's right,” Sarah confirmed, smiling complicitly.
He sighed, shaking his head. “You’re too good to me.”
But he smiled, tucking the tickets back into the envelope.
Time with Joel and Sarah was easy. When you were with them, hours slipped away, and the heaviness of everything else seemed to dissolve. You felt at home, and sometimes it left you wondering about Sarah’s mother, about how anyone could have left them. Didn’t she see how extraordinary they were? Didn’t she realize what she’d lost?
You thought about this as you relaxed on the couch beside Joel, Sarah curled up with her head on your shoulder. Her breathing had slowed, and you smiled, realizing she’d fallen asleep. Three glasses sat on the coffee table: the wine Joel had opened just before dinner—a bottle you’d brought back from your last trip to Italy—and Sarah’s lemon soda. Joel snorted softly, glancing at his daughter with a smirk, then leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
“Fallen soldier,” he whispered, smiling.
You laughed, brushing a hand over Sarah’s hair. “She’s tired. She was up all afternoon making your cake, you know? Tried the cream three times before she got it right.”
Joel sighed, an apologetic note in his voice. “I know, sorry I was late. I know she wanted me here sooner.”
Curtis and Viper 2 was halfway through on the TV, forgotten in the background. Joel straightened, signaling he’d take Sarah to bed, and you shifted to make room as he lifted her, carrying her toward the stairs. You watched him disappear down the hallway, and as the house fell into a quiet lull, that familiar disappointment stirred in your chest. Now, without Sarah’s chatter, you’d have to keep pretending that nothing was wrong.
You took a long sip of your wine, finishing off the glass just as Joel returned. He sat down heavily beside you, causing the cushions to sink as he let out a sigh, rubbing a hand over his eyes before giving you a grateful look.
“Thanks for today, I had a great time. Sarah was very happy,” he said quietly, a warm smile appearing on his lips.
“I'm glad, hun. Although the credit goes to her, I just made dinner.”
“Doesn’t matter. You helped her, and I’m grateful. I mean that. For today, and for… all these years.” His voice softened, almost reverent.
“You don’t have to thank me,” you whispered, feeling your pulse pick up as he leaned closer, his brown eyes unreadable but soft. “You’re my family, both of you. Really, I’m the one who owes you thanks.”
He shook his head and leaned back, taking another sip of his wine.
“Not at all,” he replied, leaning back again.
You watched him for a moment, turning the weight of your question over in your mind. If you said something, he’d make an excuse. If you kept silent, the doubt would eat at you. You tried to fix your gaze on the TV, on anything other than his profile in the dim room. But the words slipped out of your mouth before you could stop yourself.
“So, what did you do last night?”
He tensed beside you, so subtly that only you could’ve noticed. “What?”
You tried to keep your tone even, hoping you didn’t sound like you’d spent all day thinking about it. “I just… didn’t see your truck out there, thought maybe you were gone or something.” It was a lie; you had fallen asleep on your couch last night, you hadn't even noticed Joel was gone.
Joel seemed to measure his words carefully. “Oh. Yeah… I just went out for a beer with Tommy,” he answered, his tone a little too casual.
Heat crept up your face, disbelief taking root. He really was holding out on you for some reason, wasn't he? The man was lying to you, and not very cleverly. Tommy had been with Sarah, what if you had seen him, hadn't he thought of that? Apparently not.
It took a moment before you could bring yourself to say anything, watching as he glanced at you with an uneasy smile, waiting for you to believe him.
“Joel,” you murmured, not quite able to keep the accusation out of your voice. “You’re lying to me.”
He gave a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck, but you didn’t let him off so easily. Before he could say anything, you spoke again.
“Tommy was with Sarah last night, here,” you pointed out, your voice firmer this time. His silence told you everything, his face drawn and uncertain as he realized you’d caught him.
After a long pause, he looked down, his voice unusually flat. “Alright, yeah. I know.”
The admission was so casual it took you by surprise, but you shook your head, feeling the ache of frustration and betrayal creep in.
“Why would you lie to me?” you pressed. “We’re friends. Why wouldn’t you tell me you’re seeing someone?”
Joel sighed, avoiding your gaze, his eyes instead locked somewhere in the distance. “It’s… it’s nothing serious,” he mumbled. “Just getting to know her. Don't make such a fuss out of it.”
“What? what you're saying doesn't make sense. You’ve kept it hidden, avoided every chance to be honest about it. Why?” you asked, trying not to let the hurt seep into your voice.
“It’s not like that,” he insisted, but his voice sounded unsure.
“So if I call Tommy right now, he’ll tell me the truth? Or did you ask him to keep this from me too?”
Finally, he met your gaze, his eyes scanning your face, reading the frustration and hurt you’d tried to keep buried. You could see it in his eyes, that familiar tug of defiance, a flash of something deeper than guilt or secrecy.
“What if I did?” His voice was almost philosophical, his gaze intense and challenging. “This is my private life. I don’t have to explain myself to anyone, not even you. Do I?”
You drew in a sharp breath. His words struck like a slap, but you steadied yourself. “You’re right, Joel. You don’t owe me explanations. But you don’t have to lie to me, either.” You looked down, feeling your voice start to waver. “You’ve never hidden your relationships from me before.”
He sighed, scrubbing his hands over his face and slumping back against the couch.
After a few seconds, he finally looked at you, a look of exasperation crossing his face.
“Because of this.” He gestured between you, his tone gentle but firm. “This reaction, right here, is exactly why I didn’t tell you.”
What Joel was saying didn’t make sense. Your frustration wasn’t over him seeing someone else; it was something else entirely, something more fundamental.
“Oh, just stop,” you snapped, voice sharp. “I’m not mad because you’re dating someone, Joel. I’m mad that you lied to me. They’re two completely different things.”
He took a breath, settling back on the couch, and turned to face you, a guarded expression crossing his face. “No, it’s always the same thing. Remember the last time I was seeing someone?”
And you did, briefly. A year ago, one of his friends had introduced him to his cousin—a woman who had just moved to town. She was polite enough, but her smiles had a brittle quality to them, and when she met Sarah, her warmth never extended beyond a single, dismissive greeting. The indifference was obvious, at least to you, and maybe you’d let that show a little too openly. Joel had caught on quickly, and after that, things with her fizzled out.
“That was different,” you argued, exasperated. “She wasn’t nice, Joel. She had zero interest in Sarah.”
He gave a bitter, half-smile. “Maybe, but it wasn’t your job to manage that. I can handle my own relationships. But you always—” he paused, thumping his chest with a finger, “you always step in. Always get defensive.”
“That’s not true!” Your voice rose as anger crept in, heating your face. “You’re just making excuses. Date whoever you want, Joel, I don’t care. But don’t lie to me, don’t insult me with these flimsy excuses. Or if you’re going to lie, at least make it convincing.”
He clenched his jaw, his gaze hardening, something fierce sparking in his eyes. “Are you sure about that?” he asked, his voice low and measured, the words hanging between you like a dare.
“Sure about what?” Your brow creased in confusion, the pulse in your chest picking up, a flurry of anger and… something else you couldn’t place, mingling with the haze of the wine.
His eyes narrowed, holding yours, unflinching. “That you don’t care. That’s what this is about, isn’t it? Because I know you, i know you to well to know you’re just jealous.”
Jealous. He thought you were jealous.
He had missed the point completely. Your feelings for him were complex, that much was true. But you had learned, or thought you had learned, to carry them quietly. Your friendship with him had come to feel like a sturdy house you could live inside without having to ask too much of it. Having him in your life was enough.
But now, you felt that house shift, cracks spreading through the walls. His inability to trust you hurt more deeply than you’d expected. The openness you’d once trusted was fracturing. You felt the sting of tears prick at your eyes, the words he’d thrown out so casually cutting to the quick.
“Fuck you, Joel,” you muttered, standing abruptly, storming to the door and slamming it shut behind you. You barely heard him call your name as you left, fury driving you down the front steps, the cool night air biting at your cheeks.
Honestly, he could go fuck himself.
Just as your hand reached your front door, his footsteps closed in behind you, his strides fast enough to catch up. You tried to close the door before he could reach you, but his hand caught it just in time, his voice heavy with irritation.
“Just go away, Joel,” you said, barely glancing at him. “I don’t want to see you again.”
“That’s not true, and you know it.” His voice was calm, almost pleading.
You stepped back, reluctantly letting him into the foyer. He’d have come in anyway.
“I mean it, God. Go home,” you insisted, your voice wavering, betraying the anger mixed with something else.
He shook his head, taking a few steps closer, his jaw tight. “Can we just talk?”
“Talk?” you repeated incredulously. “Talk about what? About how wrong you are?”
He didn’t flinch, but his eyes darkened. “Don’t act like what I said was crazy,” he said, voice steady but a little sharper now.
You scoffed, throwing your hands up. “Oh, so now I’m jealous, is that it? Then, by your logic, you must’ve been jealous too, right? Like last month, when Travis asked me out. Because if that’s the case, then we’re having the same conversation, aren’t we?”
Joel clicked his tongue, tilting his head with an exaggerated sigh. “No, Travis is just a jerk. And I don’t like him, plain and simple.”
Travis Dunn, your neighbor, had moved in a few months after you did. Handsome, tall, and friendly, everyone on the street adored him—everyone except Joel. He couldn’t seem to stand him, though Travis was always polite to him.
Last month, when Travis had asked you out, Joel had practically laughed in your face when you told him about it, muttering something dismissive as if the very idea was absurd. You’d told Travis you were busy, though deep down you knew the real reason you hadn’t accepted was because of Joel’s disapproval.
“Then everyone’s as much of an idiot as he is, sunshine.”
You shook your head, exasperated. “Travis isn’t a jerk, Joel, you just don’t like him. He’s nice, honestly, much nicer than some people, if we’re being honest here. Everyone loves him; you’re the only one who has a problem with him.”
“Oh, really? Or maybe… you’re jealous of him?” Your tone was teasing, but you felt the shift as soon as you said it.
Joel’s mouth twitched in a half-smile, but the humor didn’t reach his eyes. He ran his tongue over his lips, shaking his head slowly, twice.
“No?” you shot back, voice edged with challenge. “So if I go tomorrow and say yes to him, that wouldn’t bother you at all, right?”
“Don’t turn this on me,” he said. “This isn’t about Travis or me.”
He stepped closer to you, his eyes dark with something you’d never seen in him before. The air seemed to thicken, his presence so intense it felt as though it wrapped around you. He leaned in, his face close enough that his words brushed your skin.
“You can do whatever you want, baby. It’s your fucking life.”
“And you can do whatever you want too, Joel. That’s the fucking point!” you nearly shouted, hands pushing against his shoulders, shoving him away. “I don’t care what you do! It’s already clear you don’t get it, you don’t get anything, ANYTHING!”
Joel staggered back for a split second, but it wasn’t long before he closed the distance again, though he didn’t get as close this time.
His voice was lower, a thread of something hard in his tone. “If you’re so insulted by the idea of being jealous, maybe that’s something for you to think about. Ever thought of doing a little introspection?”
“Are you drunk, Joel?” you asked, eyes narrowed, softening your voice a fraction. The argument was exhausting you, and the anger left you feeling hollow.
He laughed, an odd, choked sound. “Oh, c'mon, you know one bottle of wine ain't enough to get me drunk.”
“Yeah, but you’re tired, and you’re not exactly young, Joel,” you said, brushing past him, his gaze glued to you the entire time. “Alcohol hits you differently now. Just go home, leave me alone.”
“Fine. I’ll leave you alone, and maybe then you can run across the street and fuck Travis Dunn, if you want it so badly,” he shot back, impatience tinging his voice as he turned toward the still-open door.
The words hit you like a slap. You froze for a moment, the anger washing over you in a wave. Before you could think twice, you rushed up to him, gripping his arm tightly to force him to turn and look at you.
“What the hell did you just say, Joel?” you hissed, grabbing his shirt, fingers bunching in the fabric as you backed him up until his shoulders hit the wall by the door. “Go on, say it again!”
Your breaths came fast, chest rising and falling as the rush of anger pushed tears to your eyes. You couldn’t believe he’d actually spoken to you like that, cutting right through to something raw and vulnerable. He’d never spoken to you like that before. Maybe he was a little drunk, or maybe he was losing his mind.
But there was no softness in his gaze, no hint of the Joel you knew. His stare was sharp, almost wild with something simmering underneath, something you didn’t understand. To you, this whole argument made no sense, at least not his reaction.
Joel’s grip on your wrist was firm, almost grounding, as he pulled you closer, pressing your palm against his chest. “I can’t stand that asshole, but go ahead and fuck him if you want,” he spat, voice laced with frustration. “Go fuck the whole neighborhood while you’re at it. I really don’t care anymore.”
His words were harsh, designed to cut, but they only drew a laugh from you—sharp and derisive. A tear slipped down your cheek, uninvited.
“What, did you ever care?” you asked, your voice trembling on the last syllable, thick with emotion.
But Joel didn’t respond, and the silence ignited a fire in you, something that swirled beneath the surface, ready to boil over.
“Do you know why we’re friends, Joel?” Your pulse quickened, each beat like a drum in your ears. “Because it just works between us. There are no ulterior motives. You know why? Because I don’t like you like that. You’re not even my type, and you never will be. And no, I’m not jealous that you’re dating some woman you’ll probably dump in less than a month, so get the fuck over it and leave me the fuck alone!”
You watched as his gaze flickered between your eyes, uncertainty warring with something darker. Suddenly, with an unexpected strength, Joel tightened his grip on your wrist and pushed you back hard against the wall. The impact knocked the breath from your lungs, leaving you gasping as your back hit the unforgiving surface.
His expression had transformed, those deep, dark eyes piercing you like arrows. His breath quickened, crashing against your face, and you could feel your lower lip tremble as he pressed even closer, pinning you against the wall.
“You don’t know how to lie,” he murmured, his lips almost brushing against your cheek.
The sensation was unbearable; his body pressed against yours, heat radiating off him and melting you inside. You could feel the edge of something primal, something that could tip either way. But suddenly, clarity surged through you. With a burst of strength, you pushed him away, breaking free from his grasp, forcing him to pull back just enough for you to gasp for air.
But the distance felt worse. In his eyes, you recognized something you’d never seen before—desire, raw and unfiltered. It clawed at you, igniting an inexplicable need. A sigh escaped your lips, and like a match struck in a dark room, it was enough to set off an explosion. In an instant, Joel lunged at you, and you found yourself wrapped around him, mouths colliding in a desperate kiss filled with moans and the urgency of your racing hearts.
With a loud thud, Joel kicked the front door shut, his hands moving feverishly down your body, fingers skimming your thighs, slipping beneath your dress. He caressed your skin before squeezing your ass hard, drawing a moan from your lips that echoed in the small space between you. You clung to him tighter, his hands fitting around you as if they were made for this very moment.
He pulled back for a breath, the sound wet and chaotic against the walls of your home, and then his lips descended down your neck, unraveling what little sanity you had left. A moan rumbled in his throat as your hands tangled in his hair, tugging gently to tilt your head back, giving him better access to the tender spot just below your ear, your blood pulsing beneath his hungry mouth.
Joel seemed to want to devour you whole; his hands roamed erratically, trembling as his mouth kissed and bit your jaw, pressing your bodies together in a way that felt impossibly intimate. When you lifted your right leg and wrapped it around his side, he was quick to respond, hands securing your thighs, lifting you effortlessly onto his hips, burying his face against your chest.
Another moan escaped you, and he pulled you down just enough to find your lips again. “Joel,” you whispered, breathless as you parted from him, pressing your forehead against his, eyes searching his.
“Tell me to stop and I will,” he said, his voice low, almost broken, each word laced with a vulnerability you’d never heard from him before. “Do you want me to stop?”
“No,” you replied in a small, desperate cry, feeling the heat radiating from him, the thin fabric of your underwear igniting a fire deep within you.
You were dying of thirst, and he had just asked you if you would refuse a sip of water. Was he mad? You wanted to drink it all.
No sooner had you answered than Joel pulled you off the wall, striding toward the stairs with a confident grace. You lowered your legs cautiously, meeting his lips again in a frantic, wet kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth with urgency.
You walked to your room with the agility of one who knows where to step, and once inside, you grabbed the shirt you had angrily grabbed earlier and lifted it up his body in a desperate attempt to rip it off. Joel raised his arms, letting the fabric pass over both of you and then fall to the floor, and as quickly as your hands returned to his chest, he kissed your neck again, desperate, pressing his fingers into the tender flesh of your waist, seeking a physically impossible closeness.
His hands found your thighs once more, fingers gripping and kneading with a measured intensity that sent electric shivers through you. As he moved lower, his fingertips brushed the thin fabric of your underwear, inching closer to where you ached for him, squeezing you tighter as if to draw you in.
In a single, decisive motion, he grasped the hem of your dress and pulled it upward, the fabric sliding along your skin as he lifted it away, tossing it aside with a casual disregard that only heightened the tension in the air. He took a step back, his gaze roaming over you, from the soft curve of your face down to the tips of your toes, a look of hunger that felt almost consuming.
You weren't wearing a bra (your dress didn't require it) and your breasts fell beautifully in front of him, hard nipples and soft skin. Your chest flushed with warmth, a rosy hue creeping into your cheeks as you swallowed hard, feeling vulnerable yet exhilarated when he stepped closer.
“I’ve always loved that dress,” he said, his voice trembling with an emotion that was both reverent and raw.
“I know,” you replied, a smile curling at the corners of your lips, the moment igniting an intimacy that made your heart race.
His eyes swept down your body again, glittering with an unmistakable lust, and when he closed the distance, standing right before you, your breath caught in your throat.
His hands slid around your waist, firm yet tender, pulling you into him with a deftness that sent a thrill coursing through you. In one seamless motion, he lifted you off the ground, your feet barely grazing the floor as you instinctively stood on your tiptoes, the world narrowing to just the two of you.
Joel’s eyes darkened with a hunger that left you breathless, and he leaned in, his lips finding one of your breasts with a soft kiss that felt both electrifying and reverent. The warmth of his mouth sent a rush of heat through your body, and before you could gather your thoughts, he nipped your nipple gently, a teasing bite that sent chills racing across your skin.
His teeth grazed you just enough to elicit a gasp, a shuddering reaction that echoed in the space between you. But he didn’t linger on the sharpness of that moment; he quickly replaced the sensation with the soothing warmth of his lips, enveloping you entirely.
He sank to one knee, lowering himself until his lips brushed your stomach, the warm sensation sending ripples of desire coursing through you. His face lingered dangerously close to where you needed him most.
Joel placed his hands on your hips, fingers gripping the elastic of your underwear, his gaze locking onto yours for a moment that stretched into eternity before he slowly began to lower it, the fabric sliding down your legs and pooling at your feet. You felt his breath hitch at the sight of your now bare center, the anticipation thickening the air between you as he inched closer, finally brushing his lips against your mons pubis.
“Precious,” he murmured, and the warmth of his breath washed over you like a caress, drawing a small, needy moan from your lips. His hands parted your legs slightly, his fingers digging into your thighs, holding you firmly in place.
You cupped his face gently, as if afraid you might break him, and then, without warning, Joel licked his lips and plunged forward, his mouth connecting with you in a surprise that made your eyes flutter shut. You tangled your fingers in his hair, tugging him closer as he devoured you, his tongue working its magic as he sucked and kissed you whole, with an urgency that left you breathless.
He growled into you, the sound reverberating through your body, and you felt weakness seep into your legs, trembling under the weight of his relentless attention. Joel was eating you like a hungry man, tasting you and soaking in your juices with a fervor that felt primal, kissing you as if his life depended on it.
“Fuck,” you gasped, feeling every muscle in your body tighten as a building pressure coiled inside you.
He pulled away for just a moment, his eyes darkened with lust, a playful smile creeping onto his lips before he returned to you, closing his mouth around your clit, sucking and licking with a skill that made your head spin.
“Ah—Joel, I’m going to—I’m going to—” You struggled to articulate the intensity of what was building within you, your words stumbling over the tide of pleasure washing over you.
His voice vibrated through you, trailing off into a soft, “Mhm.”
You pulled at his hair, tugging harder as a wrenching moan escaped your throat. The world around you faded as his movements grew more frantic, his tongue flicking at you with a desperate fervor. One of his hands released your thigh, and a low groan escaped his lips as his finger found your entrance, sliding inside with an ease that made you gasp.
“Fuck me, you’re so wet,” he murmured, pausing for a moment to take in the sight of you—your cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling with lust. A satisfied smile broke across his face, and you thought he had never looked so gorgeous.
From your point of view, he looked beautiful. His bright eyes worshipped you intently, his mouth and mustache glistened bathed in you, his hair tossed by your hands mingled in all directions. Joel Miller had never looked so good.
Another finger joined the first, and you closed your eyes, surrendering to the sensation as he curled them just right, hitting that sweet spot that made you gasp for air. You gripped his hair again, pulling him closer, and he let out a throaty laugh, clearly reveling in the sight of you completely undone.
You felt his mouth on you again, the warmth of his lips kissing and sucking with an insatiable hunger that left you breathless. The sound of it was utterly obscene, echoing around the room like a carnal symphony, and it drove you to the brink of madness, your mind spinning in a dizzying haze of pleasure.
His movements grew more intense, a rhythm building that sent waves of ecstasy rippling through your body. You felt yourself teetering on the edge, your hips moving in desperate undulations, surrendering to the climax that Joel savored with unrelenting focus. Your fingers clenched around him, digging in perhaps a bit too hard, but he welcomed it, desperate to drink in every last drop of what you were offering, to savor you whole.
With a low grunt, he squeezed your hips before pulling away, the wet sound of his departure from you hanging heavy in the air. You barely registered his rise from the floor, lost in the aftershocks of pleasure, your eyes still closed as the vibrations coursed through you. It wasn’t until his hands gripped your waist that you finally blinked awake, lifting your eyelids to find him gazing down at you, his face mere inches from yours.
He leaned in, capturing your mouth again, a kiss that was both desperate and tender, igniting a fire deep within you. You could taste yourself on his tongue.
Your hands found their way around his neck, pulling him closer as you melted into the kiss. As the intensity built, you let your fingers drift down his chest, trailing lightly until they found the leather of his belt, the sensation sending shivers through you as you tugged him closer.
Joel vibrated against you, a low growl escaping as he nipped at your lower lip while you fumbled with his steel buckle, the sound of it being released becoming your new favorite melody. You unzipped his pants, your heart racing as you slipped your hand inside, finally touching him for the first time.
Your pulse quickened as you wrapped your fingers around him, feeling the heat radiating from his velvet soft skin; big, hot and throbbing in your palm. A rush of desire flooded you, and you pulled away from his lips, dropping to your knees before him, your eyes wide as you took in his form.
There he stood, beautiful and swollen with need, and your mouth watered at the sight. You cupped him gently, drawing him closer to your lips, placing a soft kiss on the tip. Joel closed his eyes at the sensation, surrendering to the moment completely, and you traced your tongue over him, tasting the salty sweetness of his pre cum that made your insides tighten with longing.
With a hint of effort, you attempted to take him fully into your mouth, but he was too large, stretching you in ways you hadn’t expected. Joel lowered his gaze to you, his fingers caressing your jaw as you struggled to adjust.
“Slow, baby,” he urged, his voice silky yet strained, and it sent another rush of need through you. "I know you can do it."
You matched your hand to your mouth, stroking him where you couldn’t quite reach, while your other hand gently caressed his balls, moving in a synchronized rhythm. Joel tensed beneath your touch, his fingers shifting from your face to tangle in your hair, guiding you as he reveled in the pleasure you were giving him.
The sounds in the room became a symphony of pleasure, every moan and gasp echoing off the walls, and you watched as Joel's pleasure climbed. The image was enough to drive him over the edge; your pink, swollen lips covered him and his cock glistened with your saliva, dripping from your chin with every move you made. Your teary eyes looked up at him desirously, and he could take no more; his gaze was filled with a primal hunger that threatened to unravel him. He finally withdrew from your mouth with great reluctance when he felt his stomach tighten, a low complaint escaping your throat in protest.
His breathing was heavy, and a flush colored his cheeks as he lifted you effortlessly, holding you at the waist, his lips finding yours in a heated kiss. In one swift motion, he laid you back onto the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight as he moved closer; Joel kneeling and settling between your legs which you instinctively opened for him.
You needed him, you needed him to fill you whole. You had never needed anything as much as you needed him at that moment. And as if he was reading your thoughts - or maybe he needed you as much as you needed him - he leaned in, taking your mouth with his once more, his moans blending with yours as he lost himself in you.
Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as he deepened the kiss, the taste of him igniting a fire in your veins. You felt him positioning himself at your entrance, his heat pulsing against you, and an intense sigh shot through your chest as Joel entered you in one thrust, burning and stretching you around him.
“Oh God,” he groaned, burying his face into the crook of your neck, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine. His right hand traveled to your left leg, lifting it and resting it high on his shoulder, while without hesitation, his other hand mirrored the movement with your right leg, bringing you into a position that felt both intimate and vulnerable. You were completely folded under him.
A cry escaped your lips as Joel began to move on top of you, his face hovering just inches above yours, the heat between you palpable. No one had ever penetrated you so deeply; it felt as though he was everywhere, filling you completely, every inch of you alive with sensation.
Joel's right hand gently squeezed your neck, seeking your mouth for a kiss as his movements took on a more urgent pace. The rhythmic collision of his hips against your buttocks created a beautiful sound that echoed off the walls, each thrust punctuated by the soft, desperate gasps that slipped from his mouth. Your own cries mingled with his as your body tightened again, your hands moving frantically up and down his back, your nails digging into his flesh, leaving little marks that he would surely wear like badges of pleasure.
A broken sound escaped from Joel, raw and primal, as he sank his face into the crook of your neck once more, increasing his thrusts with a fervor that felt animalistic, as if the world outside had fallen away and this moment was all that mattered. He fucked you into the mattress with an intensity that left you breathless, as though he were trying to ground you both in this fleeting reality, where nothing else existed except for the two of you entwined together.
You melted around him, your juices mixing with his as you enveloped him completely, and just when you thought you couldn’t take any more, he lifted his head, your forehead resting against yours, his wide eyes locking into yours. You had never seen them so dark, so filled with intensity and strength.
And then it hit you: It was Joel, your Joel, the one who had been your best friend for four years, and here he was, fucking the life out of you like no one ever had before. What could possibly come after an experience like this?
“I thought you didn't like me,” he said, his voice choppy, strained with effort. A smirk played at the corners of his swollen lips. “Such a bad liar, baby, look at you.”
You growled in response, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him towards you with a mix of force and anger. Your lips found his in a kiss that was anything but patient, igniting a spark between you. You felt him tense above you, one of his hands quickly moving to your center, exerting immense pressure as he leaned his weight on his other arm, holding you captive beneath him.
His fingers found your clit, tracing gentle circles that made your back arch involuntarily, another wave of pleasure building inside you. Your mouth was still on his, consuming him completely, when your second orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave. You felt your insides tighten around him, squeezing him with a ferocity that pulled him closer to his own climax.
Joel gasped into your mouth, and the intensity of it sent your vision spiraling into darkness for a brief moment, the sensation so strong it felt as if the world had collapsed around you. When your breathing finally steadied, you found his hot body pressed against yours, moving in tiny tremors, quickened breaths brushing against your jaw.
He stayed inside you for a few moments longer, savoring the closeness, your hands continuing to caress his back, each touch a silent promise. Then, slowly, he pulled out of you, leaving you feeling achingly empty, his cum trickling from your entrance.
He fell limply beside you, his body slick with sweat, and pulled you close to him, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. His breaths, still heaving, crashed against your damp skin, wrapping you in warmth. Unable to muster the energy to move, you let your eyes flutter closed, surrendering to a deep, exhausted sleep that you would not remember when you woke up...
No, you didn't remember any dream, Because when you opened your eyes the next morning, you stirred in place and your muscles ached pleasantly, reminding you of the night before. And as you stretched your arms across the bed, your fingers grazed the sheets, feeling an emptiness beside you.
When you looked to your sides, the realization hit you hard.
Joel was gone.
taglist: @orcasoul
#joel miller#joel miller fanfic#joel miller smut#joel miller x you#joel miller fic#tlou fic#tlou hbo#tlou joel#capuccinodoll#joel miller is your best friend#joel x reader#joel tlou#joel the last of us#pedro pascal fic#pedro pascal joel#dbf!joel
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All I’ve Ever Wanted
Season 4!Five Hargreeves x fem!reader
! Spoilers ahead !
Summary: six years of travelling to different timelines, and Five isn’t sure how much longer he can go on for. Until he stumbles upon a greenhouse, full of strawberries. And you.
Word count: 4212
A/N: so season 4 was a… thing that happened. This story is basically my own idea of how things should’ve gone in ep 5. Instead of the weird Lila/Five situation, it’s just Five, and his chance of living a normal life with someone new. Hope you all enjoy, and feedback is appreciated :)
Number Five was never one to back down from a challenge. Having been through a series of different apocalyptic events, transporting to a timeline where he spent 40 years alone, and dealing with a misfit group consisting of his exhausting siblings, Five was up for anything. But the current situation he was dealing with? For the first time in his life, he was at breaking point.
After another wasted day spending hour after hour searching for any clues or information on how to get back to the correct timeline, Five returns to the subway, entering one of the compartments and slumping down in the first chair he sees. He rubs his eyes and lets out a visceral sigh, wanting nothing more than to go to sleep. He reaches into his pockets, pulling out a small pack of dried fruits. He rips it open and devours every last piece. He can’t remember the last time he had a proper meal. He was becoming more desperate, rummaging through trash cans and foraging in bushes, hoping anything he picks isn’t poisonous.
The compartment jolts and begins to move, making its way to the next timeline. Five wipes his hands on his already dirty pants, standing up and walking slowly to the door. He wonders whether his apocalypse counterpart will be waiting for him this time.
After several minutes, and Five almost falling over from his lack of sleep, he finally arrives, the doors opening. He steps out, immediately making his way up the stairs. No time to waste. He cautiously pokes his head out, looking around for any signs of, well, himself. Before he can move out more, something wizzes past his head. A bullet. He ducks, as more shots are fired directly at him.
“Give me a fuckin’ break,” Five mumbles, as he finally takes notices of the other him in the distance.
He sticks up his middle finger, and no soon after closes his fists, blinking as quick as he possibly could.
The Five with a gun disappears along with the destroyed world around him. Five drops his arms to his sides, turning around and admiring the new environment. Luscious, greenery surrounds him, with an array of different flowers sprouting from the ground beneath him. A small pond with fish glimmers in the sunshine, lily pads floating on top. He continues turning, finding himself standing next to a tall greenhouse. The glass was slightly foggy, making it difficult to see what’s inside. Five leans in closer, squinting as if that would help. He can barely make out what appears to be pots of fruit and vegetables, some fully sprouted and others not yet ripe. His stomach rumbles, the feeling of hunger consuming him.
A rustle sounds from behind him. He turns quickly, coming face to face with a pair of shears. Five jumps back slightly. He then spots the person wielding said ‘weapon’. A young woman, probably early twenties, wearing a light yellow dress and a pair of brown sandals. Five can’t help but admire her beauty, if it wasn’t for the fact she had a face like fury and didn’t seem afraid of cutting him in half.
“Can I help you?” Her words are kind, but her harsh tone says otherwise.
Five can’t exactly tell this young woman the truth. Showing up randomly in her back yard, covered in grime, gawking at her crops through the window. He raises his hands up in the air, trying to convey that he meant no harm.
“I’m so sorry,” he says, his throat sore having not spoken to anyone in quite some time. “I don’t really know how I got here.” That’s not exactly true. “I’ve been travelling for a few days now.” Try six years. “And I could really do with a hot shower and something to eat.”
The woman doesn’t say anything, just staring, with the shears still held out in front of her.
Five puts his arms down, shrugging in defeat. “I’ll just go. I truly am sorry, I didn’t mean to freak you out.” He looks down. “Or step all over your rose garden.” He gingerly moves away from the destroyed flowers.
He turns and begins to walk away, hoping to find an exit as quick as possible. Blinking in front of this woman probably wouldn’t help his cause. A warm hand grabs hold of his wrist, forcing him to stop and look back. She has the shears loosely hanging by her side, as her eyes pierce into Five’s. She seems hesitant, words forming in her mind. At last, she speaks again.
“You’re telling the truth?”
Five nods incessantly, feeling like a child.
“And if I let you in and make you something to eat, you won’t try and kill me?”
Five holds back a laugh, knowing she’s being deadly serious. “I wouldn’t dare.”
The woman waits a beat, then huffs. “Come on, I was just about to start dinner.”
She moves past Five, walking into three greenhouse. He takes this as a sign to follow after her.
***
The young woman allows Five to use her shower, and he’s thankful for the change of clothes she provides for him too. The home is small and cosy, playing into the stereotypical cottage core of living. The lighting is soft, and the smell of pumpkin seems to waft through into every room. It’s calming, it’s peaceful, it’s something that makes Five feel on edge. He isn’t used to the domestic life, away from the terror and destruction, trying to save the world over and over. He knows he can’t stay here long, but he won’t miss the opportunity of a proper cooked meal.
After putting on the change of clothes, Five makes his way down the hall and into the kitchen, a small buffet waiting for him. He finds it hard not to drool, the potatoes and fresh pie, along with the fruit and vegetables he’d spotted earlier. It looks incredible. He takes a seat, as the woman places down a final plate of tomatoes, sitting down opposite Five.
They dish out the food, filling their plates as high as they can, especially Five. He tries not to look like a slob in front of the pretty girl, but finds it hard not to drop some things down his top. She doesn’t seem to notice, or pretends not to.
The woman takes a sip of her drink, clearing her throat. “So,” her soft voice makes Five look up from his plate. “Do you have a name or is that one of the many mysteries of the man shovelling food down his throat like he hasn’t eaten in several years?”
The woman isn’t afraid of being upfront. Five admires that. Although, it’s not surprising considering he’s a complete stranger she’s trusted in her home. He puts down his knife and fork, grabbing a napkin to wipe his mouth.
“No, I have a name. It’s Fi-,” he catches himself, unsure if his ‘name’ would just create more confusion, and unwanted questions. “Jerome. Just, Jerome.”
The woman squints her eyes, but doesn’t push further, seeming to move past his stumble. “Okay. I wouldn’t have pegged you for a Jerome.”
Five shrugs, not knowing what else to say.
“My names Y/N.”
Five nods. “Okay. We’re closer already.”
“Don’t push it,” Y/N says, a small smile gracing her face. Five can’t help but pull the same expression.
***
After a hearty dinner, and some obvious awkward silences, Five insists on helping Y/N do the washing up. The sun was beginning to set, and Five knows he’ll have to leave soon, but something stops him from doing so. He doesn’t want to admit it, but this was the most relaxed he’d felt in a long time. The fear or worry of something bad happening wasn’t there, and as he stands close to the woman he had barely met 2 hours ago, he realises what he’d been missing in his 60 something years. A place to live, with a person who makes him feel safe.
“Jerome,” the voice breaks through his thoughts, as Five almost forgets the name he’d given to this woman. “I feel like we’ve skirted around the topic enough. Is there any reason you were in the state you were in, taking refuge behind my greenhouse?”
Five places down the plate he was cleaning, turning to face her fully. Her expression is calm, and her voice shows no sign of interrogation. It’s a first for Five, as he’s become accustomed to people prodding him for information only for their own benefit. No one’s ever shown true interest in him.
He shrugs. “It’s been a tough couple of years. More than that I guess.” Fives eyes glaze over. “I haven’t seen my family in a long time, and I don’t know if I ever will. And if I do, I’m terrified of the state that I’ll find them in.”
Y/N stops what she’s doing, also turning to look at Five, a look of worry taking over her face. He knows he’s said more than he should have, but he couldn’t help it. He’s not good at sharing his feelings, and when he does, he’s scared of what will happen once the flood gates are opened. He isn’t sure if he’ll ever be able to close them.
“What d’you mean? Are they in some kind of trouble?” She asks, a slight shake in her voice. “Are you in trouble?”
Five shakes his head, not wanting to stress out this poor woman who’s been nothing but doting to him. “No! No, I just,” he sighs, knowing he’s really put his foot in it. “I just care about them, a lot. Too much. And I don’t even want to think about not seeing them again.”
A soft hand brushes against Five’s cheek, as he glances at Y/N wiping a tear away from his face. He didn’t even realise he’d started crying. He sniffles, moving away and rubbing at his eyes, fearing how red they may look. He sucks in a deep breath, calming his beating heart. Whether it’s from talking about his family, or the touch from the woman next to him, he isn’t sure. But he fears he’s overstayed his welcome.
Five moves away from the kitchen counter. “I guess I should probably go. Don’t wanna miss my train.” Although he knows they’ll always be one there waiting for him.
He heads for the door, remembering to go upstairs and collect his dirty clothes before he leaves. Footsteps are heard from behind him.
“Uh,” Five swivels back around, as Y/N hesitates over her words. “This may seem kinda forward, and a dangerous move on my part, but, I wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight knowing you were out there in the middle of the night, traveling by yourself.”
Five holds his breath, not wanting to jump the gun, but already anticipating the next sentence out of her mouth.
“I have extra pillows, and blankets.” Y/N shrugs. “It’s not the most comfortable couch but I’d say it’s more comfortable than the chairs on the train.”
Neither of them speak for a while. Five ponders her offer over and over, wondering if this is something he wants to decline. He needs to get back to his family. He needs to get back to help them. But so far, every option has been a bust. He’s not sure how much longer he can go on for. It could be the apocalypse all over again. Stuck for 40 years, traveling none stop, unsure if he’ll ever see his loved ones again. Could a good nights sleep really be such a bad thing?
He thinks the risk is worth it. “As long as it’s not too much trouble for you.”
***
That one good nights sleep turned into three months, staying at Y/N’s home, crashing on her couch. It didn’t stop Five from going out, back to the subway, trying to find the possible solution to his six year problem. But the more time he spent with the woman, the less time he wanted to spend away from her. They grew closer, making meals together, gardening together, watching silly romcoms together. While Y/N taught Five how to bake, Five taught her how to fight. A young woman living by herself? It didn’t hurt knowing some basic defence skills.
Five didn’t want to admit it, but his family hadn’t crossed his mind as often as it usually did before he met Y/N. He’d become soft, wanting to be around her all the time, not wanting to visit the subway as often as he should be. He’s lucky enough to call her a friend. He hopes she calls him that too.
***
It’s late, and Y/N is sat on the couch, crocheting a few pairs of gloves and a long overdue jumper. People used to make fun of her for it, calling her an old lady, but she finds it soothing. And making your own clothes is a big bonus too. Five, or Jerome as she knew him, had been out most of the day. She never questioned what he was up to, only that he returned safe, ready for whatever she’d cooked up for him during the day. She wasn’t completely naive in thinking ‘Jerome’ has involved himself in shady business. But unless he plans on telling her, then she won’t bother pushing him on the matter.
A bang echos from the back of the house, specifically inside the geeenhouse. It makes Y/N jump up from her seated position, quickly rushing out to the source of the noise. It can only be one person, or that’s what she hopes. Either way, she grabs for her shears before entering the warm glass room.
“Jerome?” She whispers, watching her step, the only light in the room coming from the moon through the windows.
A muffled groaning reaches her ears, as Y/N blindly moves her hands over the walls, trying to find the light switch. She finally does, and flicks it on. A sharp gasp comes out of her mouth, as the brightness finally reveals her new friend curled in a ball on the floor, rolling in pain.
“Shit.”
She quickly makes her way over to him, delicately wrapping her arms around his waist and slowly helping him off the floor. He stumbles, knocking into a few pots, almost making them fall off the table.
“Sorry,” he mumbles, the word slurring under his breath.
“Don’t apologise,” she says, making sure he’s steady on his feet. “Let’s just get you inside and onto the couch.”
They make their way through into the living room, Five dropping haphazardly onto the soft cushions, while Y/N finally gets a proper look at him. His clothes are ripped, the once pristine suit (one she bought for him as a gift) now in tatters. His hair is sticking up in all different directions, and he’s clutching to his side like his life depends on it. She reaches for his arm, prying it away to reveal an array of bullet wounds, still bleeding.
“You should see the other guy,” Five jokes, tilting his head back and trying to forget about the burning pain running across his body. Funnily enough, if Y/N saw the other guy, he’d look exactly like him, considering this all happened due to an unfortunate run in with apocalypse Five.
Y/N stares at him with wide eyes. “Really? Look, I don’t bother asking where you go or what you’re up to when you leave this house, but I think now’s the time you tell me the truth.”
Five moves his head back down, looking her in the eyes. She’s terrified. And he hates that. He breathes in deep, taking her hand in his.
“If you can help me patch this shit up,” he briefly motions to his wounds, “then I’ll tell you who I really am.”
So that’s what they do. Y/N retrieves the first aid kit from her bathroom, while Five opens up about his life before he met her, and how he’s not from this timeline. He isn’t sure if she’s believing what he says, as she remains quiet the entire time, only occasionally looking up at him and quickly returning to removing the bullets lodged in his side. But she listens. And allows him to pour his heart out to her.
“The past six years were torture. Somehow worse than the forty I spent in the apocalypse.” Five turns his head and stares at the woman next to him, as she finishes up her work. “But these last few months with you. I could finally be normal. I could live a life most guys would kill to have. And I’m so sorry I lied to you this long.”
They fall into silence, the pair somehow closer together than they were a few minutes ago. Both emotionally, and physically. Y/N moves her hand and takes his, squeezing tightly. Five’s heartbeat picks up speed, only now noticing their close proximity.
“So your real name is ‘Five’?” He nods at her words. She nods back. “Hmm. It suits you a lot better than Jerome.”
They both laugh half heartedly, as they stare deeply into each other’s eyes. She moves her hand up to his hair, moving it out of his face, trying to calm it down slightly.
She carries on talking. “I can’t even begin to imagine what you’ve been through.” Five rolls his eyes. She doesn’t even know the half of it. “But if I can be the person to keep you grounded, for however long you’re here for, then I’m happy to do just that.”
Five smiles, glancing quickly at her lips.
She does the same. “And I hope you’re here for a long time.”
They both lean in, softly pressing their lips against each other’s. Five cups her face, deepening the kiss as Y/N rests her arms atop his shoulders. They move in sync, careful not to cause any more damage to Five’s wounds, as she somehow moves closer, one of her legs wrapping itself around his waist.
They don’t stop, clothes discarded, bodies intertwined, as their growing tension is finally broken. Five isn’t sure if he’ll ever get back to his timeline, but for now, he’s happy to call this place home.
***
Another four months, and still no sign of a way back. Although, Five can’t deny he hasn’t been trying as hard as usual. The peace and tranquillity has consumed him whole, falling into a proper routine with the woman he…
Is it love? Could he truly fall for someone like this? Someone who isn’t involved in the shit show he’s grown accustomed to? Someone who wants that quiet life, watering flowers and baking pies, with him? Maybe it’s what he needs.
Five stands in the greenhouse, picking some fresh strawberries, and trying a few to see if they were ripe. He’s already found the perfect recipe to use them in. Something he knows she’ll love.
As if reading his thoughts, a pair of arms slip around his waist. Y/N rests her chin on his shoulder, peaking over to see the basket full of fresh fruit. She picks one up, moving away and popping it in her mouth. Five turns and looks at her, smiling wide.
“They taste perfect,” she says.
Five takes her wrists, pulling her towards him and kissing her lightly. “So do you.”
She laughs, holding him close and breathing him in. “The cheesy lines don’t work on me, bub.”
“I think they do.” He mumbles, bringing her in for another kiss, sliding his hands up and down her back.
They stay like this for a while, holding each other in the warm glass room. The sun starts to set, as Five looks out and realises what time it is.
“Damn.”
She looks at him, confusion on her face. “What’s up?”
He shakes his head. “Nothing, I just need to do a double check of the subway before dinner.”
Y/N tries not to show her anxiousness, but some of it seeps through. After Five explained to her what the subway is and why he goes there every day, she’s terrified at the thought of him leaving and never coming back. But she knows he wouldn’t do that to her. Not without saying goodbye.
She steps back. “Right. Promise you’ll be safe?”
He kisses her on the cheek. “I promise.”
***
Five spends some time looking around the platform in the subway, checking the lights, checking the maps, even poking his head into the tunnels to see if anything has changed. But nothing. It all remains the same. No sign of his past life waiting for him. Was that such a bad thing?
Holding a small flashlight, he shines it up and down, left and right, hoping his eyes will catch something new. A sudden pop from above startles him, the grip he had on the flashlight loosening. It falls and rolls onto the tracks. Five looks up, noticing one of the bulbs now flickering. He huffs, moving to the edge of the platform and jumping down. He retrieves the flashlight, hitting it a few times to try and get it to work again. It comes to life, flashing in front of him. That’s when he spots something.
“That’s new.”
Five walks over, grabbing the mystery object and holding it up. It’s a plain notepad. He flips it open, scanning over the messy handwriting inside. His messy handwriting. He can’t help but let out a tiny gasp, as he figures out what it all means.
“This is it.” Tears form in his eyes. “This is my way back home.”
He’s shocked. He’s elated. He’s emotionally drained. This is his chance to rejoin his timeline. To see his family after so long. To fix the mess they’ve created. But all he can think about in this moment is Y/N. How the hell is he supposed to break the news to her?
***
After another hour spent pondering this new found information, Five slowly makes his way back home. His home. Where the life he’d built was waiting for him.
He enters the house and walks into the kitchen, where Y/N stands by the stove, boiling something sweet and caramelly. Five just stares at her; humming a random tune, wiping her messy hands on the apron he bought for her when her old one accidentally caught fire. That was the most stress he’d felt since coming here. And if that was the only stress he had to deal with, he’d take it every single day.
She finally turns and spots him, smiling wide. “Oh hey! I was worried for a sec, you were taking longer than expected.”
She moves closer to him, pulling him into a tight embrace. He holds her, not wanting to let go. Y/N can tell something isn’t right.
She leans back. “You okay?”
Five doesn’t reply, only holding the notepad out for her to take. She does so, flipping through the pages just like he did, her expression perplexed.
“I don’t understand-”
“It’s the way back to my timeline.”
She looks up at him, mouth slightly open, as her words fall short. Five can swear he hears her heartbeat speed up, as her breathing becomes erratic. Five isn’t sure what to do, waiting for an explosion of emotions to rain down on him. But nothing comes. Neither of them do or say anything.
Five chooses to break the silence. “I don’t wanna lose you. I can’t. I don’t think I could live the way I used to live. Not after living this life with you.”
Y/N bites her lip, suppressing a sob. “You have to go.”
Five furrows his brow, hoping he heard her wrong. He tilts her head up to stare into her eyes, seeing the tears forming.
“No,” he whispers. “You’ve become the most important thing in my life. The thought of never seeing you again, I can’t do that.”
A tear falls down her cheek, as Five reaches out to wipe it away.
“I’d love nothing more than to stay in this little bubble we’ve created,” she replies, finding it hard to keep her voice steady. “But your family, your timeline, all those people? They need you more than I do. And I know deep down, you can’t bear the thought of letting them die, knowing you could’ve helped.”
Five wants to ask her to come with him. Become apart of his family. He knows she’d get on with them all. And they’d all love her, possibly more than they love him. But he knows it’s cruel to ask her to leave her life behind. The house, the garden, the home that she’s worked so hard on. And the thought of throwing her into the thick of it all. Putting her at danger? No chance.
He pulls her into his embrace, kissing her hard. They hold each other tight, their lips bruising as neither of them can stop the tears from falling.
Y/N is the first to pull away. “If you ever get the chance to come back to this timeline, you know where to find me.”
Five smiles, not wanting to let her go. He kisses her once more. “In the greenhouse, tasting just as sweet as the strawberries.”
#the umbrella academy#number five#five hargreeves x reader#x reader#five hargreeves#tua s4#tua s4 spoilers
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The Olive Theory
Luke Castellan x Reader
word count: 641
summary: Strawberries are your favorite thing in the whole world, luckily for you Luke seems to “hate them”
a/n: based on the olive theory from himym
@repostingmyfavs
There are two things you truly love in this world: Luke and Strawberries.
You often find yourself helping the Demeter and Dionysus kids in the strawberry fields, despite your actual job being at the infirmary. Miranda often scolded you for taking strawberries for yourself during the day, you didn’t mind though. The sweet yet tart berry was worth it.
Your obsession with the fruit grew even further. You begged the dryads for extra portions during dinner, pairing them with yogurt and melted chocolate. Your least favorite part was having to sacrifice the berry to your godly father. You debated giving something else to him but everyone at camp and above knew your love for them, there was no running from it.
Luke was well aware of your passion for strawberries. Going as far as joking that you love them more than him. You both aren’t quite sure if it’s a joke or not.
You sit at a picnic table near the Hermes cabin with luke. You had just sat down with Percy and three shortcakes for each of you. Luke leans over and presses a soft kiss against your temple as you sit down. Percy notices that you can barely acknowledge it since your focus is on the cake.
Both Luke and Percy stare at you in wonder as you eye the desert, they can’t seem to figure out why you haven’t eaten it yet. Impatient, you look over and luke with a wanting gaze.
“Oh- right,” he says understandingly.
Percy is clearly confused by the seemingly telepathic communication. His eyes dart between you and Luke, your gaze once again set on your plate. Luke picks off the strawberries from his cake and places them on your plate. As soon as the first two strawberries are there you start devouring the cake like a ravenous hyena. Percy starts to wonder if you’re even chewing. Luke starts to eat some of his until he stops halfway. He puts the remaining piece of cake on your plate for you. You eat it immediately as if it was there the whole time.
“Are you gonna have that?” You ask politely, eyeing a large, red strawberry on Percy’s plate.
His eyes shift down to where your gaze is settled, “No, go ahead.”
You smile and take it with your fork, biting into it quickly. Percy’s eyes shift back to Luke, who’s been staring at you since the moment you sat down. His face held a small smile as he admired you. You smiled as you licked the whipped cream off your fork.
“I think I'm gonna get another slice!” You exclaim happily, standing up and nearly skipping to where the dryads are.
Luke watches as you leave, eyes falling on your figure.
“I never realized she liked strawberries that much,” Percy said.
“Yeah, I'm kinda surprised she hasn’t turned into one yet,” he laughs quietly.
“I assume you don’t like them that much? I mean- you gave her all of yours and half of the cake,” Percy explains.
“Strawberries? no way, they’re great. But she loves them so much, and I'd do anything to make her happy,” Luke smiles as he nibbles on the remains of one of your eaten berries.
You come back with a widest smile on your face. You hold another cake alongside a cup of strawberries. You sit down, happily eating more of the cake and strawberries.
“Isn’t it so great that Luke doesn’t like them? I get them all to myself!” You say, beaming.
“Yeah,,, perfect,” Percy says slowly, remembering the new found information.
“Mhm; I’d give my girl all the strawberries in the world if I could,” Luke mumbles.
Luke has a single mission in life, making you happy. Even if that means giving up his favorite fruit for you. Your smile is worth much more than a simple strawberry.
#pjo series#luke castellan#luke pjo#luke castellan x reader#percy jackon and the olympians#percy jackson#luke castellan x you#luke pjo x reader#pjo x reader#pjo x you#pjo tv show#percy jackson x reader
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Sweet dreams - LN
Summary: Lando wanted to suprise his girlfriend but got suprised
Warnings: SMUT, somnophilia, horny!Lando, sleepy!reader, slight overstimulation(?), pet names, oral (f!receiving), penetrative sex (i think that’s it let me know if i missed any)
Side notes: English is not my first language so sorry if anything sounds weird. Hopes you guys enjoy❤️🔥
_________________________________________________
Y/n went to sleep wearing one of Lando’s button-ups with nothing underneath. She doesn’t usually go to sleep full commando but since her boyfriend isn’t home, why not? Lando was out for the triple header, he just finished Barcelona and was supposed to go straight to Austria, but Lando decided to give his girlfriend a surprise.
Lando opened the door to his apartment slightly, tiptoeing his way through the dark room, careful not to wake her up. He cracks the door to their bedroom quietly, guessing she was asleep since it was pretty late at night. He made his way to where she was lying, looking down at y/n’s peaceful face…until something caught his attention.
Y/n was letting out some incoherent mumbling and panting but was still pretty much fast asleep. She was straddling a pillow, that’s what caught Lando’s eyes. He reached for the pillow between her legs to remove it and to his surprise, there was a damp spot on the pillow. Lando’s eyes widen as he looks down at his girlfriend, who is now rubbing her legs together from the loss of the pillow. He parted her legs slightly, staring at the glistening wetness and leaning down, placing kisses on both sides of her thigh. Meanwhile, Y/n was still very deep asleep.
“P-please, Lando” Y/n mumbled in a quiet tone but enough for Lando to hear
He looks up from between her legs to see that she’s still sleeping. She’s having a wet dream. This is a perfect opportunity for Lando to try out something they talked about for a while but never got the chance to try.
He moved his finger up and down collecting the wetness and then bringing them up to his mouth to taste. He’s pretty sure if y/n was awake and watching him doing that right now, she would be too embarrassed and try to cover her red face. However, she was still fast asleep right now, stirred a little but nothing else, allowing Lando to do everything he wanted to her.
Lando leaned down and lick a stripe from her hole up to her clit, making her breath hitch in her sleep. He starts doing kitten licks and placing kisses on y/n’s clit, teeth glazing it sending shivers down her body
“L-Lan?” She woke up and tried to close her leg in confusion, unsure what was happening.
“I’m here princess, go back to sleep and lemme take care of you yeah?” Lando shushed y/n and pecked her lip before lowering himself again to finish what he started.
Lando started to eat you out like crazy. If anybody sees how he is right now they would think that he was starved for days. The combination of y/n’s arousal and his saliva glistening on her soaked cunt as he continues to devour her. Sucking and practically “making out” with her clit as two of his fingers enter her and immediately start to move at a brutal pace, as his other hand moves up to toy with y/n’s tits. It was too much for her, hands desperately trying to find something to grab onto when they found Lando’s hair.
“I-I’m close Lan”
Her boyfriend didn’t reply but hummed into her soaked cunt, sending vibration to y/n’s already sensitive clit, adding up to the knot building up in her lower abdomen, pushing her over the edge. She grabbed onto Lando’s hair tightly as she cum, moaning out loud.
“That’s it sweetheart, good girl” Lando coos as he plants kisses all over her face. Just when Y/n was about to doze off again, she felt Lando’s tip squeezing into her tight cunt.
“N-no, I want to sleep” Y/n whines, closing her legs and trying to push Lando away
“C’mon, just one more for me ok?”. Lando coos as he grabs her hands and pins them above her head. With one thrust, he bottomed out in her. Lando let out a groan feeling her warm, tight cunt wrapping around his hard member.
“So good f’me huh baby” He whispers in her ear, feeling her clenching extra hard down on him. Lando started with slow but deep strokes, hitting y/n’s G-spot with every thrust making her moan out loud.
“M-more”
“I thought you wanted to sleep, no?” Lando jokes as y/n gives him a death stare.
“Your wish is my command, princess” He chuckled slightly as he increased his pace, hips snapping into her at brutal speed. The sound of skin slapping and wet noises from the combination of her arousal and his pre-cum fills the room.
“I’m close-“
“Cum for me baby” Lando’s hand sneaks down to rub her clit in a circular motion, adding more pleasure, and pushing her over the edge. Y/n let out a loud moan as she comes, clenching around and milking his cock. Lando pulls out and shoots his cum on her stomach.
“Did so well for me, gorgeous” Lando says as he pecks her lip quickly then runs to grab a towel to clean both of them up. After he’s done with the cleaning, Lando climbs onto the bed to cuddle up with Y/n.
“So what were you dreaming about earlier” Lando asks as Y/n hits his chest playfully with her palm.
“Some handsome guy teasing me”
#f1 fic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 x you#lando imagine#lando norris#lando x you#lando x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 smut#lando smut#ln4 x y/n#ln4 imagine#ln4 fic#ln4 x reader
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Thinkin about a DCxDP where Danny’s helping ghosts find peace while he’s laying low in Gotham.
Like, he moved away from Amity for whatever reason. Maybe the reveal went badly, maybe he just couldn’t stand staying any longer. For whatever reason, he’s in Gotham, because the rent is cheap and he’s nowhere near the strangest thing there so no one looks at him twice.
However, this city is cursed. Like, cursed beyond cursed. It’s actively alive with how many curses there are, and the ghosts there are extremely unhappy about it.
(Of course, that’s not a problem for Danny. His ghost side filters out the toxic smog and the chemicals in the water, and his human side gives a resistance to the rank ecto and the hexes that are actively trying to devour him.)
He doesn’t really want to do anything about it, to be honest.
He’s sick of playing hero, considering how it went last time, and he’s busy working at Waffle House or Walmart or whatever other store doesn’t bother doing a background check (in Gotham, that’s probably all of them), and maybe trying to find a way to get highschool credits that don’t immediately disqualify him from every college in existence.
Still, the ghosts know he can hear them. They know, and they keep coming for help.
So, hey, why not? He definitely can’t put this as experience in any sort of job application, but he really doesn’t have much else to do.
So, he becomes errand boy for a bunch of ghosts.
Sometimes he’s finding objects that are important to them, sometimes he’s giving evidence they collected together of their murders to the police, sometimes he’s getting them the last meal they never had, sometimes he’s just spending time with them like they’re not dead.
The ghosts don’t always move on, but they’re always more at peace. Occasionally they pay him back in charms and blessings and the locations of valuables that he can keep or pawn for cash.
Eventually, a new ghost shows up.
She looks like a shadow, like all the ghosts of Gotham, but she seems stronger than usual. She asks him for a favor that those who came before him were never able to fulfill.
She asks him to find her engagement ring, and give it to her son.
Easy enough, he thinks. It’s a bit of a pain to buy the ring from the seedy pawn shop it’s in (he would usually just steal it, but he doesn’t want to implicate her kid in anything, which she seems grateful for), but everything’s going mostly alright.
Then, she tells him who her son is, and wow, no wonder no one’s helped her yet.
He’s Red Hood. The guy who is(/was) the crime lord in charge of crime alley. The title sounds a bit stupid to Danny, but he’s still a genuine threat to a living person.
Good thing he’s not one of those.
And so, the next time he sees Red Hood out and about, he goes right up to him. The man seems mostly unbothered, but Danny does notice how his hand slightly drifts towards one of his many weapons.
He tells Red Hood outright that he’s there on behalf of the man’s mother, then just holds out his hand with the ring inside, dropping it into Red Hood’s open palm.
Then he leaves, not waiting for a response.
—
Jason has a mystery on his hands, and he might just cash in some favors from Babs and Tim to figure it out.
He’s got to find the guy who gave him his mother’s ring, and find out everything he knows.
#dcxdp#dc x dp#dp x dc#dpxdc#dp x dc crossover#dead on main#MAYBE ship maybe not you decide lol#also a fun idea for this would be Danny (scrawny blue eyed black haired guy of indeterminate age)#giving Bruce something that one of his parents wanted him to have#maybe a family artifact that was lost like a necklace with a photo inside or something#and he gives it. to batman#utterly unaware of the absolute fucking chaos he just caused#but yea not specifying the age so you can go ship route or adoption route
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hide and seek
summary: your best friend chan finds you've been fantasizing about him and decides to turn those ideas into reality... pairing: chan x reader genre: smut, best friends to ??? warnings: *cracks knuckles* cnc/primal play, wolf/bunny roleplay, mention of safewords, traffic lights system (yellow used), hide and seek, mentions of pee, chasing scenario, blowjob mouthfucking, hair-grabbing, degradation, leg cramping, knees hurting, kinda realistic, unprotected sex, missionary but he holds reader down, pet names, daddy kink (like once), breeding kink, creampie, aftercare, discussion of future scenario 👀 author's note: this will be the first part in a series, i haven't decided yet how many parts, maybe three? stay tuned if you're interested 🤍 part two & part three word count: 2.5k
Chan simply asks you if he can use your laptop while you’re having a shower since his battery died and he really needs to check something work-related real quick. After doing so, he can’t help but notice the recently opened pages. He doesn’t mean to pry, really. But it’s right there. And a quick look into his best friend’s mind couldn’t hurt…could it?
He is immediately captivated by this story you’ve apparently written and keep hidden in the drafts of your blog. It’s so…sexy and unlike anything you’ve ever talked to him about.
“Dumb little bunny, thinking you can get away from me,” the big bad wolf growls in the bunny’s ear.
The bunny whimpers helplessly, trying to escape the wolf’s strong grasp but to no avail.
The wolf takes the bunny from behind mercilessly, biting her neck and using her to please his needs...
What comes at the end of the story is what shocks him the most.
“Chris, please…”
Huh? Which Chris? Chris Evans? Or maybe Hemsworth? As far as he remembers, you have always been more of a Sebastian Stan and Tom Hiddleston kinda girl but…people change, he supposes.
Until it hit him. His name is also Chris! And people do compare him to a wolf…But no, it couldn’t be…There is no way his best friend is writing stories fantasizing about him.
Unless…
He can’t imagine going on with his life without knowing the answer. So, Chan waits impatiently until you are done with your shower.
“Everything good with your work thing?” you ask him calmly once you return to your room.
“Yeah, all is good. But I found something way more interesting on your laptop,” Chan blurts out meaningfully.
The expression on your face is enough of an answer. You look completely mortified, like a true bunny that is waiting to be devoured.
“I forgot to clear my history, didn’t I?” you murmur even though you already know what Chan has seen.
“That story wasn’t about Chris Evans, was it?” Chan wants to know though he suspects what the truth is.
You immediately drop to your knees in front of him, which takes him by surprise. Gripping his hand tightly, you look so cute and pitiful. He wants to ruin you. Wait, when did those feelings show up?
“I know it was wrong, Channie, believe me. But I just couldn’t help myself, okay? Nothing else helps me get off but this fantasy. I promise I won’t do it again, please don’t end our friendship! You mean the world to me, I’m so so sorry!”
“End our friendship?” he is completely stunned by your train of thought. “Why would I? I mean, you never meant for me to see it, so I think it’s okay to have certain…fantasies. But now that I did see it, I can’t stop thinking about it.”
“We don’t have to talk about it, if it makes you uncomfortable,” you suggest.
“You’re right, we don’t have to talk about it. But how about I make those scenarios come to life?”
“Huh? You want to what now?” you can’t believe what you’re hearing.
“It can’t be satisfying, dealing with all these frustrations by yourself.”
“It really isn’t…” you confess.
“Then, let me take care of you. That’s what friends are for, right?” Chan chuckles.
“Let me get this straight, you wanna re-enact my freaky fantasies while still staying friends?”
“Um, sure, why not?”
You would be a fool to agree. This could mess up everything. But you would be an even bigger fool to reject his tempting offer.
“I’m in.”
“Great! Then, should we discuss boundaries and safewords and stuff?”
“No boundaries, no safewords, you can do whatever you like to me, I don’t care.”
“This isn’t right. What if I want to use a safeword?”
Oh. That thought never crossed your mind but perhaps it should have.
“How about this…if I want a scene to end, I’ll say red. I know you said you don’t need one, but just in case, feel free to use it. If we want to just pause for a bit, then yellow. Green is good to go. Am I clear?”
“Yes, sir. I mean, Chan. I mean, uhhh…do you want me call you something specific?”
“Whatever you like, babygirl,” he reassures you and pats your cheek. “Do you want to give this a try rightaway? Unless you’ve got other plans…”
“No way, let’s do this!” you practically jump at the opportunity.
“Alright. I’ll give you one minute to hide anywhere in this house. After that, I can do whatever I like to you.”
His words make you so thrilled that your heart threatens to escape from your chest because it’s beating louder than ever.
“If you find me,” you tease.
“Oh, I will,” Chan swears. “Now, run.”
You sprint out of your room and down the stairs, as he starts the countdown.
“Sixty…fifty-nine…”
Where should you hide? The living room doesn’t have any good hiding spots and neither does the kitchen. Under the table is too obvious. Your room would have been a good option but Chan is currently there, so it’s out of the question. The bathroom is right next to it, so once again, not a great idea. Then, it hits you. The basement! You don’t remember ever showing it to Chan so it will take him more time to think of it. You go through the door and run down another set of stairs leading to the basement. You see the perfect spot. A vintage wooden chest that just happens to be empty and is big enough to fit you if you squeeze in.
Okay, maybe not comfortable but you can survive in there for a couple of minutes. Once you’ve tucked yourself inside and closed the lid, you are suddenly hoping that Chan finds you quickly. Whatever he does to you can’t be worse than this tiny space. You didn’t know you had claustrophobia but in this very moment, you do. You can’t hear him from down here so you imagine he is looking through the other rooms first. After what feels like eternity, you finally hear steps. You are grateful that you recently peed before getting in the shower because the current situation would have undoubtedly made you wet your pants. As the steps approach, you begin to worry. What if it isn’t Chan? What if you’d forgotten to lock the door and now a complete stranger comes in to take advantage of you? No, these thoughts are irrational and make you want to use the bathroom. Ugh.
“I’ll give you ten seconds to come out and I’ll go easy on you.”
Chan’s voice both comforts you and freaks you out even more. You’re not coming out, alright. This spot was great! He can do whatever he wants to you.
“Three…two…one,” Chan finishes counting and opens the chest’s lid.
You look up at him, eyes blinking to adjust to the light. He pulls you out of it roughly.
“Last chance. Run.”
But then, you realize you were squeezed into that tiny space for so long that your leg had cramped up. You can’t possibly run right now.
“Um, sorry but yellow,” you feel like an idiot. You had said you don’t need a safeword and yet…
“What’s wrong?” Chan’s threatening gaze immediately softens and he rubs your elbow gently.
“I didn’t think I’d get a leg cramp in this freaking box,” you admit, ashamed of yourself as you shake your legs in an attempt to relax muscles.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Chan coos at you and helps you massage your leg. “Wanna call it a day?”
“Hell nah. Just, no more running, please.”
“Sure, that’s fine by me.”
“Sorry for ruining the mood.”
Chan shakes his head.
“You could never.”
“Okay, I think I’m good now,” you assure him.
“Scene?”
“Scene.”
“Did you really think you can escape me? Dumb little bunny…” Chan tsks at you and you feel your knees giving out. You need him so bad it’s not even funny anymore.
“Please, don’t hurt me, Mr. Wolf,” you plead with him even though every cell in your being would be glad to be on the receiving end of his anger.
“Oh, but where’s the fun in that? You should’ve locked your door to keep me out.”
If you tell him that you want him inside would it be too out of character for a scared bunny?
“I’ll do anything,” you promise crying. “I won’t tell a soul.”
“You’ll do anything regardless,” Chan smirks devilishly and grabs your hair harshly, pushing you to your knees. With his free hand, he unbuttons and unzips his jeans, wasting no time in pulling his cock out of his confines and stuffing your mouth full.
Fuck, your knees already hurt, probably because of that stupid chest but you choose to ignore the discomfort for now because this feeling of being dominated like that is too good to let go of.
“That’s it, take it like the useless cumslut you are,” Chan speaks degradingly but you’ve never been wetter before.
You wish you could say you are doing your best to give him a blowjob but the truth is you are not doing much, his hips thrusting forward aggressively, his hands gripping your hair. Your mouth is nothing but a cumdump for him. Your eyes are watering, vision is blurred. Your throat hurts too but it is nothing compared to the burning feeling in your knee. It is in that moment you realize that you didn’t discuss a signal for a situation where you can’t speak. You rack your brain for an alternative and remember that some subs opt for pinching their dom’s skin in an attempt to communicate discomfort. You really don’t want this to end but…
As you are overthinking this, you realize Chan’s already released his seed inside of your mouth and you are left with no choice but to swallow it up like the greedy cumwhore you are. Only for him, though.
His cock softens in his mouth but he doesn’t immediately pull out and only then, do you remember what you’ve been about to do.
You pinch his thigh lightly, looking up with moist, pleading eyes.
“What is it, darling?” Chan needs to know, taking a step back.
“Help me stand, please,” your voice is hoarse.
“Did I hurt you?” he asks as he grips your hands and leads you to sit for a while on the stupid chest responsible for your current pain. Okay, maybe, you brought this upon yourself but whatever.
“No, you were perfect, it’s just that my knees hurt. Fucking dumb wooden thing,” you grunt in frustration, punching it with your tiny fist.
Chan chuckles and strokes your hair comfortingly in complete contrast to how he was pulling it mere seconds ago. Then, he pulls you into his arms for a sweet hug.
“Sorry…I’m killing the mood again, aren’t I?” you pout.
“Not at all. Remember you’re in charge of whatever happens between us. You wanna pause, we pause. You wanna stop, we stop. I would hate myself if this doesn’t feel as good for you as it does for me.
“You feel good?”
“Are you kidding? Do you think I’d offer just anyone to fulfil their fantasies hidden in their drafts?” Chan laughs fondly.
“I’m glad you think so,” you smile at him gratefully. “I’m better now so if you’re still on board, we can continue.”
“I’m on board but let me come up with a new plan. I was thinking of fucking you doggy style but now that’s out of the question with your knee situation.”
Hearing him speak out loud what he was planning to do to you sends shivers down your spine. Damn it, maybe you should have just hidden under the table.
“How do you feel about missionary?” Chan inquires.
“Wouldn’t it be too intimate for the kind of scenario we’re doing?” you are doubtful.
“Not if I hold you down,” Chan murmurs smugly.
“Oh. Well, then…like I said, you can do whatever you like.”
“Action?”
“Action,” you confirm.
Chan wastes no time in pulling you up from your sitting position and pushing you down on the cold floor. He’s holding your wrists with one hand and undressing you with the other. Scratch that. He’s tearing your dress apart. It was never one of your faves.
“W-what are you d-doing?” you mewl at him.
“Shut the fuck up,” Chan commands.
He doesn’t bother with stretching you out because he sees you’re already soaking wet for him. Instead, he forces his thick cock inside of your tiny pussy.
Only this time, your screams are real and you’re not at all pretending.
“T-too b-big, it h-hurts,” you cry out.
“You can take it, bunny,” Chan says confidently.
You know that you can put an end to this with one simple word but damn, does it feel incredible to be stuffed full by your best friend’s large manhood.
“Shh,” he whispers in your ear. “This’ll feel so much better if you relax f’me.”
You’re trying, really. But it’s too much you feel like he’ll split you in half. Okay, maybe not a bad way to go but still.
“D-daddy, it h-hurts so m-much,” you slur mindlessly.
Wait, what did you just say?
“Daddy, huh? Easy, babybun, your wolf dad’s gonna take good care of you, I promise,” Chan’s words send you into overdrive and you come around his cock, your thighs are shaking and you’re arching your back. You can’t think anymore, you just need to be with him stuck in this moment forever. Soon enough, he releases his cum inside of your pussy.
You want to beg him to stay there for a while but you are too weak to speak.
Instead, Chan uses his fingers to push back the cum inside of your tiny pussy.
“Gotta make it stick. Will my bunny have my wolf puppies, huh?”
Oh? So, he’s that kind of guy. Well, you can’t say you mind...Besides, you’ve talked about this before and you’re on the pill so whatever he says is just for the sake of the scenario. Right?
“Was this okay?” Chan intends to find out and judging by his soft tone that is just begging to be praised you can tell that the scene is over.
“You did amazing, Chris,” you sigh wistfully and kiss his cheek.
“Better than your fantasies?”
“You have no idea.”
“So…when can we do something like this again?”
“Gee, let me have some water, at least,” you joke but your best friend (?) takes it literally and scoops you up in his arms, heading towards the stairs.
“Wait, where are we going?”
“To get you water, of course. And have a bath. And then to bed.”
Fuck. Maybe staying friends will be more complicated than you initially thought.
Once you’ve both been hydrated, washed up and dried out, you are cuddled in your bed, sharing snacks.
“Do you want to try something more extreme next week?” Chan asks casually. As if what you just did wasn’t already pretty intense.
“Um, sure? What exactly did you have in mind?”
“Kind of an outside setting. It will take some planning to make sure there aren’t other people but…it just came to mind while we were in the basement.”
“Tell me more about it,” you blink curioisly and put your hand on top of his.”
“So…how do you feel about being chased in a forest?”
To be continued…
#bang chan x reader#stray kids x reader#skz x reader#stray kids smut#bang chan smut#chan x reader#chan smut#stray kids imagines#stray kids fanfic#skz scenarios#stray kids#chan#writing
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