#i'm not a horse girl‚ if you can't tell

[vigilante-3073]

Gentle Hands

Gregory House x Female Reader

Summary: House and Y/N have a four year old daughter and have just welcomed a baby boy. House teaches his daughter about the importance of using her 'gentle hands.'

TW: Mentions of postpartum parenthood, babies, House being House.

S/N: Son's name M/N: Middle name

D/N: Daughter's name

Y/N was laying in her hospital bed with her newborn held close to her chest. The baby slept soundly, wrapped in a blanket with a hat on his tiny head.

It had been a long and difficult labor, but their baby was finally here. S/N House was born at five o'clock in the morning, he was in perfect health with a strong set of lungs.

He was a gorgeous little baby with his father's blue eyes and a head of dark hair. D/N had always looked like her mother, but the newest addition to the family definitely bore more of a resemblance to his father.

House had stayed by her side for the entirety of her labor, although he did manage to take a rather lengthy nap in the earlier hours. Wilson had spent the night at their home to watch D/N when Y/N went into labor.

House slept on the couch in the corner of the room using his coat as a blanket. Y/N glanced at the clock before she pulled out the small toy gun House had given her.

She shot one of the foam darts at her husband and he jumped slightly before looking over at her, "What?" He questioned, sitting up and tossing his coat aside.

"Can you send a message to Wilson and tell him that he can bring D/N when he comes in?" Y/N asked, House nodded.

He pulled his phone from his coat, typing out the message before sending the text. He tossed his phone onto the couch beside him, leaning back into the cushions.

"How is he?" House asked.

"Quiet... He's been been asleep for almost an hour," Y/N said, pushing the blanket away from his small face.

"Good, little guy has been through a lot," House said.

"Oh, he's been through a lot, huh?" Y/N asked with a smile.

"You did the heavy lifting, but he was definitely involved," House stated.

"I guess you're right," She nodded, looking down at their son, "Do you think D/N will get along with him?" Y/N asked.

"No... Siblings fight and they'll spend most of their lives hating each other, but that's just family," House said.

"I hope you're wrong," Y/N said softly.

"We can teach her how to be a good sister to him," House stated, Y/N nodded.

House glanced over when his phone buzzed, reaching over and picking it up. He looked down at the screen, "Wilson is making her breakfast and then they'll come down," House said.

"We're going to have to buy him dinner or something. He's such a sweetheart," Y/N said, House raised an eyebrow.

"Hey, you hitched your wagon to this horse. You can't go switching it up mid-race," House said, Y/N rolled her eyes with a smile.

"Whatever you say, Greg," She said.

...

House fell back asleep with his arms crossed, head leaned back against the couch as he snored softly. Y/N smiled when she saw Wilson making his way over with D/N's hand held in his.

Wilson slid open the door, "Hey, how are you feeling?" He asked softly, making his way over to the bed.

"Tired, but good," Y/N smiled.

He looked down at the wrapped bundle in her arms, "Wow, boy or girl?" He asked.

"Boy. His name is S/N M/N House," Y/N said.

"That's a perfect name for him," Wilson smiled.

"Thank you so much for looking after D/N last night," Y/N said.

"Of course. I'm happy to babysit whenever," Wilson assured.

"Mommy," D/N mumbled softly, tugging on Wilson's hand.

"Can you lift her up here for me?" Y/N asked, Wilson nodded.

He bent down and picked up D/N, "Up we go, peanut," He said, placing her on the bed beside her mother.

"Do you want me to wake him up?" Wilson asked, pointing his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of House.

"He gave me something to use for that, actually," Y/N said, pulling out the toy gun.

She shot another foam dart at her husband, he lifted his head, "That's awesome," Wilson laughed.

House wiped a hand over his face before grabbing his cane and making his way over, "Can you take him for a minute, honey?" Y/N asked, he nodded.

House hooked his cane onto the edge of the bed, Y/N passed the baby to him and adjusted the blankets around the baby's face.

Y/N pulled her daughter into her arms, pressing a kiss to the little girl's forehead as she held onto her, "Did you have a good night with your uncle, baby?" Y/N asked.

"He made me pancakes," D/N said softly.

"Pancakes? Really? I hear that he makes the best pancakes ever. Were they yummy?" Y/N asked, D/N nodded.

Wilson smiled as he watched his friend interact with her daughter. They had always been close and it was good that she gave her daughter some extra affection with the new baby.

It wasn't that long ago that House and Y/N welcomed their first child, they were good parents and their children were lucky to have them.

"Wilson, do you want to hold him?" House asked.

"Definitely," Wilson nodded, moving over to his friend.

House passed the baby to Wilson, watching as his friend smiled down at the newborn, "He really is perfect, Y/N. You did an amazing job," Wilson said.

"Thank you, James," Y/N smiled.

"Hey, he got those looks from me. D/N is all Y/N, this one is mine," House said, Y/N shook her head.

"Remember how we told you that there was a baby in mommy's tummy, my girl?" Y/N questioned, D/N nodded.

"Well, mommy had the baby last night. You have a baby brother and his name is S/N," Y/N said.

"S/N," D/N repeated.

"Yeah, do you want to meet him?" Y/N questioned, D/N nodded.

"Come here, kid," House said, holding his arms out to his daughter. She crawled over and allowed him to lift her off the bed, "Go sit on the couch over there, okay?" House instructed, D/N nodded.

She rushed over to the couch and climbed up, waiting patiently as House and Wilson made their way over. House sat down on the couch beside her, "You have to be really gentle with your bother, okay? He is a brand new baby and we have to be very careful with him," House said.

D/N nodded, "Use gentle hands," She repeated.

House nodded, "Exactly," He said. Wilson passed the baby to his friend, House adjusted his hold on the child before holding the wrapped bundle out for his daughter to see.

"You also need to make sure that you keep two hands on him at all times, alright? He can get really hurt if you don't," House said, his daughter nodded.

Wilson placed a pillow on D/N's lap, "Hold your arms like this, peanut," Wilson said, holding his arms in a circle in front of himself.

D/N quickly copied him, resting her arms on the pillow in her lap, "Perfect, stay just like that," House nodded.

He reached over, placing the baby in his daughter's arms. D/N stared down at her brother in awe, holding him carefully in her arms.

Wilson took a step back, making his way over to Y/N, "You made some cute kids," He said.

"Thank you for being here, James," She smiled. Wilson gave her a quick hug before they returned to watching House and D/N look at the baby.

"Hi, baby," D/N said softly, eyes focused on the baby in her arms. S/N shifted with a squeak, opening his mouth and letting out a large yawn.

"He's tired," D/N mumbled, looking up at her father.

House nodded, "He had to travel a long and incredibly narrow way to be here," He said, glancing over at his wife.

"Don't tell her that, House," Y/N scolded.

"What? It's a compliment," House shrugged.

The baby began to fuss in his daughter's arms, "He's probably hungry," Y/N said.

"I can take D/N to my office for a bit," Wilson offered.

"You can take her to mine if you want. The kid loves Cameron," House said, carefully lifting the baby from his daughter's arms. House stood up from the couch, limping over to his wife and passing their son over to her.

"Alright, sounds good. Text me when you're done," Wilson said.

D/N hopped off the couch, "Come on, let's go visit Doctor Cameron," Wilson smiled, holding out his hand.

D/N rushed over to him and grabbed onto his hand, Wilson led her out of the hospital room and slid the door closed behind them.

...

S/N was asleep in his bassinet beside Y/N's hospital bed, comfortably swaddled with a fresh diaper. D/N sat in the bed beside her mother as Y/N read to her from one of her daughter's favorite books. House sat on the couch, eyes focused on the Gameboy in his hands.

Y/N looked up when she heard a soft knock on the glass. Cuddy and Wilson stood outside the room holding a comically large teddy bear and a floral arrangement.

Y/N smiled and wave them in, Cuddy opened the door and made her way into the room with Wilson following closely behind her. Wilson set the stuffed animal on the couch beside House while Cuddy went over to her friend.

Cuddy set the case of flowers on the table beside the bed, "Congratulations," Cuddy smiled, leaning in and giving her friend a gentle hug.

"Are you excited to be a big sister, D/N?" Cuddy asked, the little girl nodded.

"His name is S/N," D/N said.

"Oh, that's a beautiful name," Cuddy said, she turned to look at the baby, "It definitely suits him," Cuddy stated, staring down at the baby fondly.

She turned her attention back to her friend, "How are you feeling? Are you sore? Or tired? Because I can take D/N for a couple days if you need some time to recover," Cuddy offered.

"I feel good. I'm tired, but we'll be fine," Y/N assured.

"Just let me know if you need anything, okay?" Cuddy questioned, Y/N nodded.

"Well, since you're offering," House started, Cuddy held her hand up to stop him.

"Not you, just your wife. I don't need to hear whatever nastiness you had in mind," Cuddy said.

"That's not very nice, Doctor Cuddy," House said, shaking his head and returning to his game.

"You'll get over it," Cuddy said with a smile.

The baby wiggled in the bassinet with a whine, "Can you grab him for me, Lisa?" Y/N asked.

"Of course," Cuddy nodded, picking up the baby from the bassinet. She passed the fussing baby to her friend, Y/N unbuttoned the clasps at the top of her gown.

Y/N draped a blanket over herself as she set the baby up to nurse, cradling her child in her arms.

"He's such a beautiful baby, Y/N. He has really pretty eyes," Cuddy smiled.

Y/N nodded, "I definitely lucked out. I had two beautiful babies, but I definitely think that the baby factory is closed for business," Y/N said, looking over at her daughter.

"You said that after the first one too," House said.

"Okay, maybe we can keep it open for a couple more years... We do make some cute babies," Y/N smiled.

[front-facing-pokemon]

[consumeroflemoans]

So I know I talked about horse girl Riddle before but I think the thing that got him into horses was the Canterwood Academy series because he would eat that up

And it would be something his mother might let him read because it's literally about an equestrian team at a fancy school

[vvelegrin]

man it just feels kind of... i don't know. mean that with everything lately we're adding mystery joint pain, most persistently in my hands, to the pile.

like come on. come on. i can't even have this?!

[loganlermanstanaccount]

Can you write a college roommate head cannon for miguel O’Hara ( 18+ f!reader)

ik you asked for HCs but I have no self control... my bad, anon!

College Roommate!Miguel O'Hara Headcanons

(AO3 Mirror), Main Masterlist

pairing: College Roommate!Miguel O'Hara x f!reader

summary: Miguel is your roommate. And he’s hot. That’s it, that’s the tweet.

warnings: 18+ as fuuuck. F-receiving oral, using toys, masturbation, voyeurism (-ish), grinding, praise, service dom (idk?) Miguel, recreational drug use (reader and Miggy smoke a blunt). Minors DNI

a/n: I am a firm believer that modern day Miguel listens to 90s rnb, back when men were men: unabashedly, unashamedly down so fucking bad for their partners. he just gives me those vibes!!

edit: I'm writing a full fic for this! Rigor Mortis, college au fic, read here.

wc: 6k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I'm thinking you become roommates but he's your last choice. 

Very last minute: you have a big falling out with your now ex-boyfriend, and the plans for flatsharing next semester goes right out the window. 

So all the good places are taken, and you're going apartment-hunting, but everywhere's either too expensive, too dirty, or there's a predatory clause hidden in the lease: shitty landlords and blaring red flags in 9pt Times New Roman. 

When you stumble upon Miguel O'Hara; a student in private accomodation who, lucky you, is in need of a roommate; it feels like a godsend.

Rent is affordable and he's nice enough; refusing to grunt more than a few words to you, but is clean, organised, and from what you can tell, is barely in the apartment. 

You sign onto the lease, desperately, hoping you've just been lucky and trying not to look a gift horse in the mouth. 

You give a thousand mile stare at the blank document in front of you. A bullshit paper due in exactly 12 hours. Yes, you left it until the final stretch, and yes, it's 10k words. Very doable. You're not fucked. Nope.

You blame it on the banging from next door. Paper thin walls; obscene noises. Cries of Yes Miguel and Just like that, daddy have been plaguing you for almost an hour. His stamina must be superhuman, the way the woman in his bed has been howling. Howling may seem extreme, but she sounds like a dying cat: cock drunk and babbling over Miguel O'Hara? 

Your new roommate had been nice enough. Quiet, unassuming, and seemed more than absorbed in his schoolwork. So you didn't expect him to unashamedly fuck the girl he's been tutoring for the past week. It all clicks. The "perfect roommate" turned out to have one teeny tiny little flaw: loud, obnoxious sex, well into the early hours of the morning. 

On autopilot, you're clicking through tabs on your bed. Perhaps you're a prude, but the sex noises are abrasive, excessive, to the point of parody. Persistent, Miguel's low voice reverberates in the walls of your bedroom; making heat pool at the base of your stomach. 

"You want it, hermosa? Tell me…. such a pretty girl… like that?" It's muffled, but his voice is unmistakable. Low, greedy, heavy with want. God, the last time someone's spoken to you like that was… 

You shake your head free of cobwebs. No. You're not rewarding him. You can't . Your roommate is shameless, and inconsiderate, and really fucking annoying . 

The smacking noises increase, coupled with banging on his side of the wall. Resolute, your face hardens. From where you perch on your bed, you slam the wall with the side of your fist. 

"O'Hara! Keep it the fuck down!" 

~~~

He's a biochem major, up to his ass in assignments and he still has time for societies, internships and tutoring. 

The only times he'd be in the apartment really was an impromptu session, and you didn't notice at first, but it became more obvious as the semester went on.

As a so-called tutor, he only seemed to pick the prettiest girls - they would twirl their hair on your kitchen counter and bat their pretty lashes at him when they didn't understand. Favours for a couple of friends, is his only response when you ask. 

It felt like you'd open the door to a new girl every week and you are baffled. Donned in makeup and short skirts, they'd waddle in asking for Miggy, or drop off half-finished assignments whilst craning their head through, trying to catch a glimpse of him. 

The absurdity would make you laugh if it wasn't affecting your sleep. 

Not that he's not absolutely gorgeous, but he's so quiet you would never have thought he had it in him: to have a revolving door of women lining up to lay underneath him. 

This time, her name is Sarah: pretty little thing in Miguel's Advanced Math class.  She perches on a stool, wearing a tight dress that is wholly not appropriate for a tutoring session. She's one of his regulars, if you can call it that, and has been failing for at least 2 semesters. You flash her a smile as you pad through the kitchen, searching the cupboards for a snack. God, she is gorgeous; dolled up for another long session with Miguel, no doubt.

"Where's he gone?" She asks politely. 

You shrug. "I couldn't tell you, sorry."

"It's okay… I'm just a bit stuck." You almost snort and catch yourself. For some reason, you didn't think they actually did any work, merely a pretense for the… cardio later on in the day. 

You glance at her sheet of paper, scribbles in purple pen with large swathes crossed out. Leaning over, you scan the page.

"Right here." You point and she follows with a manicured finger. "You fucked up with this integral and I think… yeah, I think that messes with the whole thing."

Her eyes light up as she follows you, explaining with a piece of cookie hanging out of your mouth. She's definitely smart, just a few little mistakes here and there that you're happy to point out. Thanking you fervently, she rushes to correct it. 

"Ah, it's no problem. I get mixed up with it too." You smile and notice Miguel by the doorway, watching with a strange look in his face. You roll your eyes as you walk past. What a fucking weirdo. 

"Thought I was the tutor?" He croons.

You raise an eyebrow, voice low as Sarah is engrossed in her work. "...I don't want to fuck her, Miggy , if that's what you're worried about."

A little cruelly you push past him, shoulders clashing against one another. Is he smiling ? For now, you blame your perpetual tiredness when you think you catch the hint of a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

~~~

You're a light sleeper, and it all makes for a tired, delirious combo. You sleepwalk through the day, scramble to finish assignments and whilst it's not all O'Hara's fault, you can't help but blame him for a lot of it. 

After you successfully get through one long week, you decide to celebrate. That means a couple hours of mindless hedonism: your favourite movie, greasy food…. and your trusty dildo. Not at the same time, of course. 

Miguel's not home, and he's not tearing down the walls with some other girl, for once, so you decide to treat yourself. 

You've been going through a dry patch, and you'd hate to admit it, but he does sound good through the thin drywall. 

It was a joke gift; given to you by a friend for your birthday. An obnoxiously purple dildo with a suction cup at its base. Aptly named Hugh, due to its - ahem - large stature. Standing tall at 7 or 8 inches, far bigger or thicker than any partner you've taken in the past. Sitting around a small diner booth with your friends and opening the bag to reveal him, had been quite the experience, for sure. 

It wasn't your fault you had gone through a dry spell in the past few months. With work, with school, with relationship issues, you hadn't had the time or energy to sleep around. Not that you were desperate for drunk, lackluster sex, followed by an awkward dance of ubers and shitty coffee in the morning. Like many, you preferred to do it yourself. 

Laptop open, you ease yourself onto the toy, already slick with lube. Prepping yourself with your fingers had been quite the task, tabs open to something on a lewd website. It's cheesy, but you didn't really like the bright lights and plastic of usual porn. The moans felt too fake, the sex devoid of any real passion. So you found a couple of independent creators; couples, mostly; carnal fucking with fervour only borne from real love . It's embarrassing to admit it, but your favourite parts are the little kisses and touches in between, or light laughter after a rough session. As if to say: it's okay and I'm still here. 

On your screen now is a longtime favourite video, a broad man bullying his fat cock into his partner. You can't help but think he looks like Miguel, not as pretty but tan with strapping shoulders, and large hands that wrap around the neck of the girl in the video. 

" F-Fuck," You breathe, sinking down onto your toy. You bet Miguel's palm on your throat would be deliciously rough, and you imagine how he'd fuck the brat out of you like the man on your screen. 

What hadn't occurred to you, however, was that the thin walls went both ways. Whilst you were quieter than many of the girls Miguel brought home, you were fairly shameless with the moans and curses that fell from your lips. Headphones on, you were blissfully unaware that Miguel had slipped into the apartment some time ago. The slap of your thighs to the floor, the desperate whine as you roll your hips over the toy - he can hear it all. 

Miguel has a conscience, so he does feel some amount of shame when he slips a hand down his trousers and presses an ear to your shared wall. He closes his eyes and bites down lusty groans, fisting his cock to your pretty noises. Noises he's been wanting to hear from you for months, now, imagining it was you underneath him instead of his usual partners. 

He times it just right, squeezing around his tip in time with the steady slap just beyond the wall. Are you fucking yourself? On your knees, hands flat on the floor, churning up your insides with a toy… or maybe ass up, dildo attached to something…? He almost cums with that mental image, wondering what you'd look like on your knees for him. Is the dildo as big as him? He knows you, knows you'd want it to hurt - for his cock to stretch out your pretty pussy when he cums deep inside you. 

All things he thinks about with a hand around his cock, and he's already close. But he wants to cum with you, listening intently for the signs. 

" Fuck," Your voice comes out muffled, but it makes him buck up into his fist all the same. " Need it… oh God, I-" 

He speeds up, wondering what it would be like to have your thighs shake underneath him, what it would take to have you babbling and begging for more. How would he break you? Maybe on his cock, where he'd watch you squirm as you take his length. Or on your knees, choking around him and licking up his cum. Or, God, thighs wrapped around his head, riding out your high with his mouth sealed on your clit, crying for him slow down, for him to-

" H-Harder, Miguel, please." 

He releases, sudden and intense, spilling white ropes into his boxers. 

" Fuck, Miguel…"

He fucks his fist through it, overstimulated from the way you say his name. It feels like the only way it should be said; spilling from your mouth, haphazard and desperate. Like honey, like treacle; sweet things he didn't know he had the capacity for. He lets that feeling wash over him, panting, bringing his forehead to rest on cool wall. 

~~~

He's hot. He's smart. He's a whore.

A total blindspot for you, and no matter how much you can't stand him; you still find yourself stealing glances whenever he's home. 

And he does seem to be home a lot more, often choosing to study on the dining table rather than his room. It's like he does it on purpose, using the warmer weather as an excuse to wear tiny tank tops and loose gray sweats - showing off the muscles of his broad back and arms perfectly.

Funnily enough, when he's not around those girls, he's bearable - seems to have grown a couple of brain cells in those short few days between sessions. 

You laugh and joke, sometimes, and he surprises you by suggesting a movie one quiet night. 

He offers you his sweater to snuggle into, you eat your weight in greasy takeout, and your roommate seems like an actually decent guy?? 

You had fallen into an easy routine: O'Hara leaves a flask of coffee for you to snatch up in the morning, hair damp from the shower and all, and you meet him with netflix and instant noodles in the evening. A push and pull that works in the little space - much smoother than your rocky beginnings.

After a truly shitty day, you come home to a quiet apartment. Almost sleeping through an exam, forgetting lunch, missing the bus home, and having to trek back through pouring rain in a thin coat. Everything that could go wrong, did, and you are left with the pieces. You trudge through the living room into the kitchen, the wet squelch of socks on laminate floor haunting every step. Shedding your limp outerwear, you lay the contents of your backpack onto the kitchen counter: clumps of loose paper, the damp leftovers of a textbook, bleeding ink. Your main concern, however, is your laptop slick with rain water. 

With baited breath, you put it on the slab, and press the power button. A click, a stuttering whir, and the screen flickers on. Then, just as strained, it putters off. Dead. Completely dead. Your legs almost give out, and you lean on the counter to steady yourself. Half of your life was there; including the final project that would make up a good chunk of your grade. It takes you everything not to collapse onto the floor right then and there. 

"How was it?" You hear the click of a door and Miguel calls out from the hallway. 

You wince."...F-Fine?" 

You hear footsteps, as he gets closer. "Are you asking or telling me?" 

You clear your throat, desperately trying to keep your voice steady. "Fine. It was fine. I'm just… it was fine."

Back still turned, you fumble around with the wet contents of your bag, hoping he doesn't notice. 

"Long day?" He says warmly, head poking into the kitchen. Haphazardly, you spare him a glance from behind your shoulder. He's dressed in a sweater that fits snug around his chest, rolled up to expose his forearms, and loose sweats. In his hands, he drinks from a cheesy mug - your mug, donning a stupid pun. He looks warm. Cosy. Domestic. For some, reason it makes your heart sink even further. 

Long day? "Something like that." You manage to squeeze out. There's a pregnant pause as he comes closer. Rummaging blindly through a cupboard, you try to hide behind its door. If he sees you like this, now, you don't know if you'll be able to hold it together. 

You close the door, and all of a sudden he's there, mug in hand. 

" Fuck, man- " It makes you jump, as he squints and takes a sip of his coffee. 

"You look… wet." 

"That's because it rained, Miguel." Snapping at him, your tone is biting. You're tired, stressed and in desperate need of a cry, but he is unrelenting in his gaze. 

"Are you ok?" He asks, unfazed. 

There's a lump in your throat and all you can do is nod with a tight expression.  His eyes flicker towards the counter and you shuffle, trying to cover up the mess. And then you watch it happen; initial confusion, a flash of realisation, and then worry; all in the space of a couple seconds. 

Gently, he pulls you aside to inspect the damage. "Mierda. This is pretty bad. You sure you're ok?" 

He's got a hand on your arm now,  The dam breaks and you crumple into tears in the kitchen floor. Of course, he comes with you, rubbing your back as you blubber through the details. 

" Nothing's going right for me… and I've got my final project on there… I'm barely keeping up as it is…" All he does is nod, face tight with something you can't quite name. It must seem pathetic to him, you think, shamelessly crying on the kitchen floor, complaining to your poor roommate. He can't leave you like this, because he's a decent person - but internally, he must think you're going crazy. 

It helps, having him there: a steady presence by your side. Slowly but surely, your tears subside. 

"You could've asked me to pick you up." He hands you some tissues off the counter, and watches as you mop up the tears. "I would've come, if you called."

"I didn't… I didn't think we were…" You search for the right word. 

"...friends?" He offers, with a small smile. "You think I let just anyone steal my sweaters?" 

"First of all," It makes you laugh, despite yourself. "You offered. And second, I've seen what you do with your friends, and I don't know if I have the energy for it."

"Ouch." Bashful, he rubs his chest like it aches. He sits a little close to you, knocking your shoulders with his own. "I know this girl who's crazy good with computers. I could ask her to take a look, if you'd like? Might not be able to save it but maybe we could recover the files?"

"...I'd like that, to be honest."

"Muy bien ." He leaps to his feet, palm stretched towards you to help you up. "I'll run you a warm bath or something. You're creating a puddle and it's going to ruin my floor."

"Our floor, asshole. I pay rent here, too." 

~~~

You find that you enjoy being around him, and he feels the same. 

You can't help but compare him to your shitty ex who you were planning to move in with: and even with his quirks, Miguel is better in every way. 

There is harmony in your household, for a while, and you almost look forward to coming home to him after class. Almost. 

It doesn't last long, because of course it doesn't. You'd thought you'd come to a tentative ceasefire, able to casually rib and joke with each other - takeout and B-roll movies aside. He leaves you leftovers from food he makes, you turn down your music when he's studying, and he even woke you up the other day when you had slept through your alarm.

Beyond the wall, his music is loud: a playlist you recognise as the one he puts on to (unsuccessfully) mask the noise of his usual late night adventures. Cheesy love ballads, heady RnB that leaks into your own room. You'd rather die than admit his taste in music isn't horrible, but it usually means a long, long night for everyone around. With finals around the corner, there's no way you can let this stand. 

What kind of person does that? Lull you into a false sense of security with Snakes on a Plane and pepperoni pizza? 

Absorbed in your own work, you hadn't even realised he had someone over; let alone was gearing up for obnoxious sex. You'd bang on the wall, but you feel like you guys are past that: crossed a threshold of intimacy that means you can shout at him up close and personal. 

So you stomp over to the hallway, banging at the door to his room. In the short trip there, you've worked yourself into a frenzy. How many times have you told him to keep it down? That it was rude and inconsiderate to flaunt his sex life in your face; to fuck other women so loud you were practically involved? There was something about the little smile he would give you afterwards, when you catch him shepherding his latest out the door in the morning - like he gets off on it, enjoys it, when you react. Even when you think you're over it, he still manages to drive you absolutely crazy. 

“Miguel? Open the fuck up!"

You're still fuming when the door opens with a click, and Miguel appears in the sliver of the doorway. He opens it so that his frame is half swallowed by the door, top half peeking through with a lazy hand in his hair. And of his top half, he's bare from the waist up, black band of his boxers sitting low on his v-line and loose sweats. 

All the wind is knocked from your sails, and you lose your train of thought. 

"Yeah?" 

"I…" You clear your throat. "I don't care who you fuck, but when I'm doing work-" 

"-I'm not." He chuckles. "There's no one here, hermosa. Just me. And you, I guess…"

There's something about the way he says it, lazily, as if it's his first time saying those words - wrapping his tongue around your name to see how it fits. If it fits, how it tastes. His relaxed posture, the way his hair falls…

"You're high." Your brow shoots up. "... you're high!" 

With a finger pressed to his lips, he grabs your hand and pulls you into his room, eyes darting around the hallway. 

"Shhh! You can't-" Now, he gets close, whispering like he's saying something he shouldn't. "You can't tell anyone. "

"I won't." You breathe. His face is serious at first, and then you're both giggling. You've never seen him so carefree, and it's nice to see Miguel walking around without the weight of the world on his shoulders.

He's still holding your hand, pressed close, and you see him drag his eyes up and down your figure. "You want do something you'll regret…?"

"...I've got a 9am, tomorrow, I really-" 

"-shouldn't?" He finishes, dragging his hand up your bare arm, pupils blown. He gets up to your shoulders, tucking your hair behind your ear. It's sinful, the way his touch is gentle but gaze heavy - violent in the way he practically eyefucks you. You feel bare, in little sleep shorts and a t-shirt.

He steps back, lounging on his bed, and makes for a half finished blunt by the adjacent window sill. Sighing, you sit by him, sinking into the mattress. He pats you closer, dangerously close, and you comply. One arm curled by your waist, the other brings the blunt up close and you wrap your lips around it. When Miguel brings a lighter to the blunt, you lean into it, knuckles brushing your lips. 

You take a drag, long, heavy, eyes closed. And when they open, you're met with his own. Maybe it's the weed, maybe it's the heady atmosphere, but you swear his eyes are low and deep with lust.

"Good girl." He rumbles, cupping your chin and tracing a thumb to your lips. He separates, bringin the blunt to his own lips before leaning back to pass it to you. As quick as he gets close, he pulls away; leaning back into the expanse of his large bed. And he looks good, head drawn back and the curve of his tan arm drawn upwards. Tufts of hair from his chest, the trail that leads down suggestively - and without inhibition, you basically drool over him. God, there it is. You feel it kick in and let it wash over you. 

His music, long forgotten, blends into your downy haze. You want to sit in his lap, rest your head on his chest. You get it now: if this is the view all those women he tutors get to have, then you finally understand. 

"Come closer, hermosa ." You barely register the nickname, only focused on the way he says it, the delicious way it rolls off of his tongue. You nod, and shuffle closer. His siren song sounds sweeter, somehow, up close. 

You pass the blunt between you both, and watch it dwindle to the last dregs. Lying down next to him, he clutches your hand and takes the butt between his fingers, letting its flames die as you watch. You giggle and his gaze softens.

"I didn't expect this from you." You look up to see an upside-down Miguel, hiding a smile. 

"Expect what?" He drags himself downwards, to rest his head by your side. 

"All…" You gesture vaguely. "This. Don't even think I've been in your room for this long, before."

His room looks exactly how you'd expect it: tidy and modest, a row of trophies neatly lined up on a shelf, a telescope pointing out towards a window. There are posters by his bed; science related, mostly. You tilt your head in the direction of one of them.

"Is this what they see?" You mumble to no one in particular. 

He manages to catch it, sluggish in his response. "...Is this what who sees?" 

"All the girls you fuck." It tumbles your of your mouth, before you can help it. 

He tilts his head too, looking at the poster and you watch the sharp lines of his jaw besides you. Even at this angle, he's so pretty. 

"Huh. I guess they do." 

"It's not very romantic, is it?" You blink, oblivious. Your question is met with a noncommittal shrug. "What was her name last time? Cassie, Clara-something…"

"Katie." He hums. 

"Katie." Ignoring the twinge of disappointment at his quick response, you hope it's the weed and not jealousy that made you pretend to forget her name. 

You sit up on your haunches, tracing the valleys and mountains of his bare chest with a leisurely finger. You try not to notice the way he shivers at your touch. 

"I could hear everything. Every, 'Yes daddy'," You feign a moan by curling your lips into an O-shape. You bring your other hand to your hair, head tilted back with exaggerated movement. "And 'right there, Miggy, right fuckin' there' ." 

Technically, you're making fun of him and laughing, expecting him to follow. But he doesn't, head back and eyes boring into you - only bringing a hand to press yours at his chest. 

"Thin walls, Miguel." You clear your throat, sensing a shift in the atmosphere. Too far, probably. "Sorry, shit. I didn't mean-" 

"I hear you too." He says softly. "I heard you, the other day."

Head filled with cotton, it takes a moment for his words to really click. So he elaborates, lacing his fingers with your own. 

"Fucking yourself, hermosa ." He says it lazily, like the vulgarity of the act doesn't register.

Your eyes widen in horror. How much exactly did he hear?

"...and I heard you say my name." 

"It was…. i-it wasn't like that-" Fuck. You can't think straight as it is: and his voice is low and silky, rubbing circles on your hand close to his chest. Even now, he oozes confidence, the steady thump-thump of his heart giving away nothing. 

"Hmmm? Then what is it like?" You blink at him, unable to answer. "You're a hypocrite. You complain about all these women I supposedly fuck, but then-" 

He pulls you closer, so that your lips almost touch his. "-you lock yourself in your room, touching yourself and thinking about your poor roommate. What am I meant to do with you?"

A pause, and in your daze, you can't breathe. For all your theatrics, it's too easy for him - to prod and tease, and for you to chase after him. You move to kiss him, but he grabs your chin at the last second. "Not quite. I want to hear you say it."

"Fuck- " You crumple, hiding your head in the crook of his shoulder. Even in your haze, the nerves bubble up from the base of your stomach. "Fuck me, please , Miguel."

He places a hand on your thigh, leading you to straddle his middle, other hand wrapped around your waist. He grinds your lower half into his, leaning up to bring your lips together. 

He tastes sweet, greedily lapping up your moans in the clash. You're not thinking, not really, lost in the heat of his body, desperate and eager when you kiss. To contrast, Miguel cups your chin, pulling you away for air whenever you sink too deep. Somehow, he still manages to look smug, taunting you with a flash of his little fangs whenever you separate. If you weren't feeling the effects of that blunt, you may have had the means to be embarrassed at how much you want him - needily grinding against him and pawing at his chest. 

It's too slow, too leisurely, like a punishment; and he refuses to give you what he knows you want. Your whines betray you when he finally slips a hand down your shorts. 

"¿Paciencia, hmm?" He grabs a handful of your ass, clothed cock catching on your clit. It rips another moan from you, which he happily swallows with another kiss. "Patience, princesa."

You hump against one another like teenagers, your hands planted by his head for purchase. Hips moving of their own accord, you chase the relief Miguel provides: with his hands kneading your ass, length catching at your clit, and teeth nipping at your bare neck. 

He licks a stripe up your collarbone, soothing the blossoming hickeys with a hum. 

Fuck, how can he be so casual ? You don't know if it's the weed or something else, but he is in his element, hand dipping down your back to graze at your pussy from behind. He hisses when he realises how wet you are, swiping his fingers down your slit and taking them out to pop them in his mouth. 

Now, flushed and face hot with embarrassment, you look up at him with big doe eyes. It makes Miguel feel guilty for stopping you so close to your climax. Beautiful : lower lip hooked under your teeth, plump and swollen and kissable. He'll make up for it later: a promise he whispers into skin. 

"You're soaked." He cups your cheek to press a kiss to your forehead, and all you can do is whine. His gaze dips down, to the swell of your tits in that thin shirt.. 

"What did you think about when you touched yourself?" It's soft, said in the warm press of your bodies; hook-shaped and hazy and you fit like you were made for one another. The thought lingers, plants a dangerous seed that makes you forget that the man underneath you is your roommate : unrepentant whore, Miguel O'Hara. 

"You." You've seen it first hand, he eats hearts for breakfast; and yours is on a platter for him to devour.

He laughs, deep and rumbling, hands resting on your waist. "I know that, baby. You don't have fantasies? Fuck yourself to the thought of someone touchin' you just right?"

Not just someone, him, you think. Your voice dies in your throat at the way he looks at you. "Just… n-nothing really-"

He hums, grinding your hips onto his. "Speechless, I can't believe it. Is this what I need to do to get some fucking peace around here?" 

You roll your eyes, "Don't be a dick, Miguel. When I shout, it's because you deserve it."

"...there it is." Eyes shining, his face stretches into a shit-eating grin. Wide, unabashed, unambiguous. "You back with the living, sweetheart?" 

It makes you laugh, even though you hate to give him the satisfaction. 

"What do you want?" He kneads your thigh and pleasure pools at the base of your stomach. 

You mumble something begrudgingly.

"Hmm? Can't hear you, baby."

Louder, now. "...want to sit on your face, Miguel." 

Lowly, he groans, shaking his head. "Mierda… of course you do."

Expertly, he helps you take your shorts off, dragging the thin material down your thighs. You clambers upwards, wrapping them around his shoulders, watching intently as he kneads the soft skin. It's tentative, at first, and you place your hands on the headboard to perch just above his mouth. 

He licks, diving in with the flat of his tongue: a long upwards stroke that ends with him sucking your clit. Moaning, your hips jump and he chases your pretty pussy up, large palms pushing you back down. He concentrates on your bundle of nerves, lips around your clit like a man on a mission.

And, God, does it feel good; he watches and learns from your every movement, committing your body to memory. His moans vibrate deliciously, tension building at that spot faster than your mind can register it. Then, you clench around nothing, gushing into his mouth whilst he eases you through it. The noises he makes are obscene; one leg off the bed and a hand snaked under his boxers. He's getting off on it; watching you crumple and sob around his tongue. 

And when you begin to move off, thighs sore, he doesn't relent, sealing his mouth on your pretty little hole. 

"Miguel.. fuck-" After your first orgasm, it surprises you when he continues, tongue fucking you with fervour. He presses you close, impossibly close, and your body fights against his ministrations. Heat, everywhere, and it's too much. The haze of the blunt begins to wear off and you are left with biting clarity. You want more of him, deeper; drunk off of just his tongue. 

You card your hands in his hair, and he moans: deep and wanton, with his eyes fluttering shut. He wants to look, to watch you when you cum on his tongue for a second time. Back arched, the curve of your tits peeking through a tiny top, fucking yourself on his face. He wants it hard , wants you to take control and use him to get off. 

"Right there, fuck… "

Like you can hear his thoughts, you press yourself down harder, riding the deep ridge of his nose for relief. Miguel complies and leans into it. He eats you out like a man starved and the carnality of it all brings you to a second peak. You cum once again, legs wrapped tight around his face. Head back, he laps it up readily. 

You separate with a wet pop, and Miguel looks blissful : fucked out and panting, wiping the slick off of his face with a forearm. Exhausted, you lean back onto the mattress beside him. 

"That was…" He searches for the right word, and it's your turn to finish for him. 

"... good. " Scarily good. So good you won't be able to see him around the apartment without remembering what he looks like trapped between your thighs. 

Gently, he turns to cup your cheek and bring your lips to his. It starts off sweet and deepens rapidly, making that thread at the pit of your stomach tighten, again. He grabs your thigh, bringing it closer, and you feel his length poking your stomach. Fuck. 

"You haven't…?" Your hand makes for his trousers, and he stops you. "I want to, Miguel. Want you to feel good too."

His head sinks into your shoulder. "I know, baby, I know. Not like this. Not yet."

You nod, still wrapped up in his arms. You haven't even fucked, and it feels more intimate than it should. 

"You've got a 9am tomorrow." He smiles with a hand underneath his head. 

"I've got a 9am tomorrow," You repeat, sighing. "...and my life is falling apart. I'm failing half of my classes as it is."

He turns to you, lazily. 

"I could tutor you, if you'd like."

…

"That's not fucking funny, Miguel."

_

_

Miguel taglist: @d1lf-loverrr, @afro-hispwriter @ilovemiguelohara @weedxgirlx420 @ladydovahkiin180 @aaliyuh3 @sweetanimebakery @vvitcxen @rosecoloredlenses708 @daikondal @magikmina @impettywhenyouare @alonelygirlsuicidenote @plushyplants @javi0ca @rheeves @starrfruit @nikirikii @marsbars09 @foxglove-grove @mimooyi @crosshairclown @dead-by-light @kynamitedessert @naarra @wanderlustingcastaway @sagejin @cookielovesbook-akie @tangerineloverrr @gobblegluckgluckgod @wolfiepirate @jxxey3 @ebrysteria @elliemm @manchuria @youngghostpeachslime @weasleybuns @ilovemuppets @vauriz @bonbyon @aimno256 @ancientbeing10 @tvije @venus1224idkpleaze @neteyamsbulletwound @chickenjefferson-blog @maki-z @jasjasthings

_

edit: the full fic xx

[kangaracha]

the thing about being a Certified Horse Girl is that i don't know if this is really painful or i'm being dramatic lmfao

[shotmrmiller]

whenever simon needs a lay, he doesn't go for girls like you: all snarky attitude and self-assuredness in that hole-in-the-wall bar with the peeling wallpaper, dim lighting, and sagging ceiling tiles. he wants those insecure things; the soft, quiet ones who've been recently dumped and are drinking away their woes. the ones who'll take him to theirs in a drunken haze and wake up startled, kicking him out of the front door without their number and an embarrassed forget this ever happened.

can do, sweetheart. (see ya never.)

but you've caught his interest. maybe it was the way your face was bare— pockmarks on your cheeks and eyebrows untamed—yet you exuded confidence not even that loud bimbo with the fake lashes and vibrant ruby lipstick could ever recreate. maybe it was the way you held your own against that drunken man who attempted to grab a handful of arse over your faded, torn jeans, catching his pathetic bollocks and giving them a gnarly twist.

who knows. who cares.

what matters is that you've caught him by complete surprise.

he figured you were the type to want a firm hand. a couple of harsh slaps to your cheeks (both top and bottom), a fistful of your hair in his grip to pull, and to fuck you into the mattress until your body was imprinted on it.

wrong.

the moment he pulled your hair taut, you'd immediately tangled your clever fingers into his chest hair. "i'm no horse, brit. my hair isn't reins for you to lead me around with."

then he tried to bend you over his knee. proper brat like you needs to be put in'er place.

also wrong. "not that either. not yet anyway."

and then he's wrong a third time because you're no passive participant.

he sloppily eats your cunt like it's his first meal since coming back from urzikstan— warm tongue, thick fingers, and the occasional pinch of his crooked teeth on your swollen bundle of nerves. when he tries to pull away, your entrance more than slick enough to take him without much discomfort, you fervently dig your heels into the scarred tissue of his strong back., stopping him in his tracks.

"you stop 'til i finish and not a moment sooner." his whiskey breath is warm between your legs when he huffs out, "affirm." you're fluttering around his hand in minutes when you start to direct him on how you like it, which he supposes is fortunate for you since he's real good at taking orders and even better at obeying them.

your climax is sweet in his mouth with a subtle hint of brine. the exact opposite of you, he finds. simon doesn't even get the chance to tell you to say anything because you're flipping onto your knees and shoving his rigid length into your mouth. he can't help the strangled sound that escapes him when the tip of him touches the back of your throat, constricting when you gag.

bloody hell.

you look up at him; wide, glassy eyes and sunken cheeks and it's pathetic how he can already feel himself on the precipice of ecstasy and he hasn't even gotten to the good part.

when he watches you place a condom in your mouth and roll it on his cock without hands, simon had to squeeze his eyes shut and think of england to stop the fire that threatened to light him ablaze.

alrigh', enough. on your back.

"no. get on yours."

your small hands push against his barrel chest, gesturing he lie back— today preferably.

impatient bint.

you ignore that quip, opting to wrap your fingers around his thick base and sink onto him in one smooth motion.

slow, don't want ya hurtin' ya'self.

he gnaws on his tongue painfully— almost cutting it open with his canine— to keep from finishing because, bloody fuckin' hell, do you feel like the heaven he'll never see.

simon's hands curl and tighten around the swell of your hips— his blunt, square nails digging into your sensitive skin. "easy," you hiss, "i bruise like a peach."

taste like it, too.

you look so sweet, so pliant while being split open on his cock, hot cunt sodden with your earlier release— it sends mind-numbing arousal tingling up his spine, feeling it at the base of his skull. simon grunts when you begin to move, a languid up and down, gentle but firm. spots dance in his vision when you take all of him, his bollocks flush against your arse.

pretty thing with fire in your eyes taking him so well even though others have needed breaks to work up to it. muscle memory takes over then, his callused fingers automatically searching for your swollen clit, but you slap them away. "too sensitive, i'd only be uncomfortable."

yes ma'am.

you chuckle at that, pussy fluttering as you do and simon hisses through his clenched teeth.

keep tha' up 'nd i'll be done before the fun even starts.

this time you clamp down on purpose, your cunt squeezing his cock like a silken fist. "wouldn't that just be a shame. old man like yourself only got one in you?" the playful taunt sinks its teeth into the ego he's never cared about— leaving behind a mark that stings and lingers— and the lieutenant rears his head, if only for a moment.

watch it.

your eyes widen fractionally but your lips curl at the corners in amusement. "sorry, sir." minx.

his thoughts dissolve like sugar in hot tea once your hips began to rise and fall again, this time a much quicker pace. he surrenders to your unsatiable passion-- a hungry beast, feeding on want, on need-- with only his obsidian-black mask as witness.

for the first time in months (since price bent him over his desk post-op that one time) he's the one getting fucked.

and when you plant your feet by his sides, when your hips cant at the slightest of angles, his flared head presses against something firm and his world ceases to exist, the intensity of now reaching its peak.

when he comes to, your sweat-slick body trembles with effort, your pretty cunt still stuffed to the brim with his softening length. but he's not done with you yet, not by a long shot. now it's his turn.

in a quick movement, you find yourself on your back, looking up at simon, and the mewl that falls from your lips bounces off of the spartan white walls when he hooks your legs over his broad shoulders, and claims you again.

he plans on leaving a delicious ache between your legs that won't let you forget this night-- at least not for the next few days. (not like you could, i mean look at him. plus, he's going to magically forget his gloves here, maybe his pack of cigarettes. he's also definitely jotting down his phone number somewhere.)

forgive me i'm tired now so i lost some air at the end hehehe

[wtfaniii]

I can do it alone, but he can also save me

Fem reader x Hwang In-ho / Fem reader x Hwang Jun-ho

Part 1 // Part 2

•Summary: Jun-ho's girlfriend was a decorated policegirl, strong and brave, she, along with Gi-hun were taken to the games to stop them, however, there was a setback in between

•Note: Thanks for the support! Here I bring you the second part of this one shot that is personally one of my favorites.

•Warning: Maybe some drama, Some violence and attempted abuse, ¡Don't worry! this man arrives on time like a prince on a white horse

N/A: I haven't checked this yet, sorry if it has spelling mistakes

Gi-hun had told some participants that the next game would be dalgona, but it was not so and now they were upset with him, surrounding him and complaining about his mistake, calling him a "liar."

—You guys decided to play these games —the girl said standing in front of Gi-hun —Face the consequences and don't expect someone to come and save us.

—He's a fraud! —Player 100 shouted at him, pointing at accusingly and with contempt.

—ibelieve in him word —001 interrupted, standing next to her.

Due to the first impression that the two made on all the players, the complaints immediately stopped and retreated.

—It's nothing, I really believe you —Young-il said with a friendly expression

—And if you allow me... I would like to be on your team.

The next game would be in teams of five players, counting the girl, Gi-hun, Jung-bae, Dae-ho and now Young-il, they were full, however, when they were talking to get to know each other a little, a woman with the number 222 on his uniform approached them cautiously.

—¿Can I be on your team? Please —Jung-bae was going to interrupt her to tell that they were full but the young woman finished his sentence first —I'm pregnant.

The five pairs of eyes fell on the small bulge of her belly and noticed that it was true. Immediately, the woman spoke. —I'll look for another team.

—¿Are you sure you'll do it?— In-ho asked, looking at her carefully. A person who looked out for someone else's well-being in these games was rare to see, but considering the situation, it was quite understandable. He wouldn't give up his place if he wasn't so interested in his enemy.

She nodded confidently and left to find another team, it didn't take long, after all, most people took advantage of having someone like her on their team just by considering the word "police" in their introduction.

Once the teams were formed and they were told what had to do, they sat on the floor to wait the turn.

As time passed and gunshots mixed with screams sounded in the background, the young woman thought silently.

¿Will Jun-ho be okay? She really hoped so, she had known him for four years and knew that there were times when he could go to extremes to get what wanted.

It was something she loved about him but right now just worried about.

—¿What game are you going to play? —246 asked sitting next to her, momentarily taking her out of his thoughts.

—Gonggi —answered immediately, she was very good at that game, it had been his favorite since she was a child.

The others nodded and continued talking, she didn't go there with the intention of socializing too much.

For starters.

She was only there because Jun-ho had asked her to.

Jun-ho...

She just hoped him could find her and Gi-hun in time.

The policeman had no intention of stopping now, even without having the tracker active and with the fact that apparently someone was sabotaging them from inside, he was not going to stop searching.

The woman he loved was in those games, that wasn't going to be the plan, she was only supposed to be Gi-hun's bodyguard but things didn't go as planned.

—I think we should stop, it's almost time to eat and we're a bit far from the shore.

—We can't be so close now —he said, somewhat irritated and helpless. —Every minute they spend on that island is a danger.

He felt guilty for having dragged her into his own problems.

He remembered the last conversation he had with her before he lost sight of her.

[...]

—We are police officers —Jun-ho said, showing his badge to the guard who was guarding the entrance of the place

—Just like everyone else tonight —the man said with a mocking laugh, pointing at the long line waiting to get into the Halloween party.

Jun-ho didn't have enough patience to tolerate this, so with no other choice he went up to the man and took his gun out of his pocket.

—¿Do you want to see if this is a toy?

The guard stepped back in fear, giving them free passage.

The girl smiled proudly and waved her hand as if it were hot while sighed.

—That's my man —she boasted to the guard as they crossed the entrance. Jun-ho managed to hear her and inevitably a sly smile appeared on his lips.

—We have to find him before they do —he said, referring to Gi-hun searching the crowd but no masked pink guard was visible.

—It will be faster if we separate —she added, taking out her weapon and pointing it at the ground just to be ready in case used it —When we leave here it will be fondue night —she said without losing her charming touch.

It was something they both shared, despite being in tense situations like this, comments like that were never lacking, especially from the girl and that was something Jun-ho adored, her daring was part of what made the policeman fall in love with her.

—Maybe I should drag you into my problems more often —He replied with a smile and separated from her.

The girl was the first to find Gi-hun and surprisingly they let her get into the limo with him.

Jun-ho was unhappy about that but he couldn't change her mind and just when they thought they could intercept the front man of those suicide games they were forced to make a last-minute decision by shooting at the tires of the cars.

[...]

His stomach turned just remembering what people go through inside those games, he trusted that she could survive but the odds of not making him tremble and want to vomit.

—Okay... we'll call off the search —He relented after a few minutes.

He looked up at the sky and asked whoever would listen him to keep the woman he loves alive.

Meanwhile on the island, they had managed to get through the second game alive, she was sitting with Gi-hun's team silently watching around them when 001 sat next to her.

—Hi... —he greeted her with a soft smile, hoping that the mask being Young-il was convincing enough to fool her —I'm curious... if you're a police officer, ¿how did you end up here?

—¿Debts? —She replied with a false smile —My job was to take care of Mr. Seong but it didn't turn out the way I had in mind —she admitted, looking away again but feeling Young-il's intense gaze on her.

—So... ¿you're here as an undercover agent? —he asked, feigning surprise and curiosity.

He himself was the one who gave the order to allow her to also get into the limousine to accompany Gi-hun.

In-ho knew his brother would be worried about her, searching for her relentlessly, but it was inevitable, he needed to meet her in person and be sure how good of an influence she was on Jun-ho.

Or at least he thought it was a good excuse.

—Yeah... —She looked at him silently and attentively when she noticed a certain peculiarity in him appearance —¿Do I know you from somewhere? I feel like I've seen you before...

Him face seemed familiar but she couldn't figure out why. In-ho kept eye contact with her, waiting for her answer.

It was a pity, if she recognize it him had no other option to let her die in the next games but luckily for the girl she denied it.

—Forget it, I'm just stressed ¿And why are you here?

—My wife is sick and pregnant.

She looked at him with pity as he told her his story, it wasn't a lie, it was just that it happened years ago and he couldn't do anything to keep her alive.

—I'm sorry —The girl said after he finished his words.—I promise we'll get out of here and I'll help you as much as I can with the expenses.

The police had money, not to say that she was a millionaire but she lived in a good social status, she was willing to help him only because her heart was softened by him story.

–You barely know me, ¿why would you do that?

—My boyfriend has also had a somewhat hard life and I took this job for a reason, to help others.

She did not consider herself a saint, but if she had the opportunity to do something good for other people, she would do it regardless of the consequences.

—Also... I think I'm pregnant —She said with a small smile.

How chaotic and unfair could fate be that just one night before she was to go to the medical laboratory for her results, she was taken to those games against will.

On the other hand, she could also feel a slight connection with this stranger, which was why she revealed that to him so naturally, but she still didn't know exactly why.

—I have to go to the bathroom, I'll be right back.

He nodded and watched her leave but his eyes also noticed three other suspicious looking players who followed her into the bathroom.

Without thinking twice he also stood up.

Not even two minutes had passed since she entered the bathroom when a woman grabbed her by the collar of the jacket and threw her backwards, making her fall on back.

–¿You remember me? —the woman demanded, looking at her with disdain and annoyance

—No —She answered standing up.

—You threw my husband into prison and won't be out for another twenty years —The woman pulled out a small pocket knife and another woman stood behind the police girl to hold her —I thought about how to kill you for days.

—Very cute, I still don't know who you are.

Those words only made the woman even more furious as lunged at her and tried to stab her,

Her hard training served her well in this unarmed fight.

But she was counting on another man to come in to help the two players who were trying to kill the young policewoman.

—Three against one unarmed is not fair... —she gasped for air as saw that he had a small opening in his head, her had hit himself on the sink at one point during the fight.

—¡It was also not fair that my husband was sentenced to twenty years in prison for attempted abuse!

—Oh, believe me, I tried to make it forty.

A kick to the face from one of them managed to stun her long enough to give them time to pin her down on the cold, damp bathroom floor.

She couldn't hear clearly what they were saying but when she saw how the man placed himself on top of her, their intentions were quite clear.

She didn't have enough strength to continue defending himself, her felt bleeding from his leg from the knife and the cut on his head hurt, but like a hero coming to save the day, Young-il walked through the door and shouted "Hey!"

That small interruption was enough for her to hit the man in the genitals with her knee, making him move away and moan in pain.

She was too stunned to see what was happening, but before she knew it, he had her in him arms and walked out of the bathroom leaving the two women unconscious on the floor and the man with a bleeding nose.

—¡You should do a better job as guards! —he yelled at the two pink soldiers guarding the door, she didn't know it but that scolding was enough to fire those two.

He carefully led her to the men's room where, due to his front man advantages, he was able to have a guard deny another player access until he said so.

—Thanks... —Her murmured as he dropped her on the ground—But I had it under control.

She let out a giggle that made his ribs hurt, In-ho refrained from laughing, now he had to focus on fixing her wounds.

—Being a police officer you made many enemies —He said while using his jacket with some water to clean her.

—You have no idea.

In-ho continued to clean her wounds and after a few minutes everything was better for her, the girl stood up cautiously because of the wound on her leg and thanked Young-il with a small bow.

—Thanks for helping me, for the second time.

—I hope it doesn't become routine —he said with a soft smile, looking her up and down unconsciously.

When they came out of the bathroom there were suspicious glances but neither of them cared.

It was cute, she liked the way this man treated whenever her found himself in trouble, in a way he reminded her of Jun-ho,

She liked that even though she could defend herself, there was still a knight in shining armor who would arrive in the worst situations.

Young-il, the gentleman who arrived just in time and the only one who knew about her suspected pregnancy.

tag list:

@raya4643 @lvspedri @iloveoldermen0204 @ravenslocked

[floralscented]

all the times mechanic!dean was humbled by bimbo!reader - 18+

★ ˚⋆

dean was convinced, a lot of the time, that not a single coherent thought existed in the white noise of your brain, just accepting that you were one of those girls with a pretty face to her legacy. it wasn't a bad thing. he'd never admit it, but seeing your face light up when he explained something to you was one of his favorite looks on you - the glimmering wide eyes, the o-shaped part of your glossy lips as the pieces clicked into place.

other times, he was floored by the capacity of that pretty little head and the information it held. completely floored. you never said anything with malice either, or chastised him for not thinking in the same way that you did. just stated the things like fact, typing away on your pretty pink iphone with your pretty pink manicured nails, not even looking up to see that you'd taken his breath away.

there were a lot more of these instances than he cared to admit. he was a proud, prideful kind of guy, often convinced that it was his way or the highway.

until you came around.

he'd started a list on his phone, of some of those times, cementing them into a vault of your history. maybe he'd show it to you on your wedding or something cheesy like that, that he knew you would love. or maybe he'd keep it to himself, as to not humble himself further.

when you'd called a car's failing engine a "tummy ache", and that was how he figured out that the cause was the owner putting in the wrong gas.

the first time you talked him into trying on your panties, and he'd tried to deny it heavily, and you'd said, "it's just clothes." and it was so simple but he'd never thought of it like that. like holy shit, yeah, it's just clothes.

when you'd tried to hook up with him at his work, in the backseat of his car no less, and dean desperately tried to keep some semblance of professionalism at his job, and you were like "who's gonna see? no one comes here." and he proceeded to fuck you into the leather with, you guessed it; not a single customer to see the fogged windows and the rattling frame.

you got him to start saying things are cunty and that's not even the humbling part. the fact that he could not fucking stop himself from calling everything cunty when you were around was.

when you'd called the stars "little suns" and now every time he looks at the night sky, he can't help but think if you're looking at the little suns too.

he'd been staying late trying to finish a car and you'd gotten upset and told him "who's gonna need their car this late?" and yeah. who the hell was? he made it home in five minutes and made up for his time away.

he told you that one day he'd take you to meet his family and you called them the witch burners with the straightest face he'd ever seen. yeah. they did do that sometimes. but don't say that to their face.

sometimes his old habits would kick in and he'd start doing everything for you, like he did growing up with sammy, and you remind him every time that you were his baby but not his baby.

he joked that you were baby vers. 2, and you'd said, "you can't call everything you park yourself in baby." he started calling you princess immediately after.

he'd grabbed your hair once when you were bent over during sex and you whirled around so fast he honestly thought you were going to kill him. like there was more fear in his eyes then than there was in some of the hunts he did before he retired.

when you insisted in front of his coworkers that, no, you did not want to drive your car if he was there to tote you around already. like, fuck him, honestly, for not assuming you would want to be chauffeured. he was still living that shit down.

"no, dean, i'm not blowing you right now, this is a chanel lip gloss." right. because he was supposed to know what that meant. "i am not wiping chanel off with a paper towel, dean." tell chanel to get off her fucking high horse, thanks!

he tried to be romantic once and put his hand on your thigh while driving and you glanced down with a pout and said, "your filthy oil hands :(" with that exact sad face. he didn't know how else to convey the utter devastation in his typed list without the fucking emoticon. you'd have thought he ran over your baby or something.

notes, guys ... i fear they are rent free rn. something ab grumpy/sunshine in any form is going to do it for me every time.

tags ( if some of these dont work im gonna run up and down the street butt naked on god ) @titsout4nicholas @deans-yn @dipperscavern @devoursweetly @jasvtsc @panickedbitch @t3l3vangelism @jensenacklesfan69 @manicjk @mkendlic @hischrrypie @deanswidow @figthoughts

[cdragons]

"My Girl" - Robb Stark x Forest Fairy!Reader Drabble

A/N: This goes out to my girl, @dipperscavern! She needed a pick-me-up after the Tumblr app decided to be a bitch and delete her draft!!! But she still pressed on and wrote an incredible Robb Stark smut drabble! Pls go check it out!

"Please, Jon," Robb pleaded. "Just for today, and I'll make it up to you."

"Your mother will kill me if she finds out," Jon groaned. Normally, he'd be more than happy to cover for his brother, but what he was asking for was too much - even for him. "She hates me enough as it is."

"She doesn't hate you," Robb winced at the lie, but he was desperate. "Please, I have to see her."

"Why can't you see her tomorrow?" asked his half-brother. "The hunt is tomorrow anyway, you can just sneak away to see her then."

Robb shook his head. "You know how she feels about hunts. The moment the horn blows, she'll scatter far away, and I won't be able to see her for a week! A week - that's too long!"

Jon stared at his brother in complete disbelief at his dramatics. It was hard to believe that the first son of Ned Stark, Warden of the North, would be so far gone for a girl who lived so deep in the forest. A girl who lived a life completely shrouded herself in the mysterious beauty of the ancient woods.

A girl whose allure and grace were of a being so ethereal, she shouldn't exist.

Jon sighed. "Fine, I'll watch over Bran and Rickon by myself today - but if Father asks me, I'm telling him you skipped on your own!"

His brother whispered his shouts to avoid attracting attention from the rest of the keep, but Robb was already on his horse and raced out of the gates before he finished. He couldn't want to see you - his girl, his fairy, his mythic love.

Robb soon reached a part of the forest known to only very few in the North - his father included. The Starks were not only the Wardens of the North but the keeper of its ancient secrets.

Once he rode past the invisible barrier - accessible by those that carry the blood of House Stark - the wintery abode filled with white snow and blue ice melted away to a world of iridescent green trees and a kaleidoscope of colors eternally blooming. He finally saw the red leaves of the ancient weirwood tree whose twin linked your worlds together. Under the magnificent branches, he felt an explosion of love burst inside him at the sight of you.

You - his one and only love - sitting on the gnarled and overgrown roots of your tree. Your feet were bare as you only wore simple white linen dress that hugged your curves beautifully. He saw the flowers and small buds braided into your dark, wavy, umber-brown tresses.

"Fairy!"

Robb called out the nickname he had given you since he first met you in these woods as a child. He felt life flow inside him as he watched you turn around and saw the bright smile spread across your face. As soon as he was close enough, he slowed his steed to stop before jumping off and racing to the ancient tree where you and him would rendezvous in secret.

"Robb!" you called out. You waved in excitement before lightly jogging forward to meet him halfway.

Robb immediately took you in his arms and held you in a tight embrace. He pressed his nose into your locks and breathed in the lavender and wild grass notes. He felt time slow down until it seemed like the whole world stopped. Robb knew such a thing was impossible, but he thought many things were impossible before meeting you.

You slightly nudged him away until his face slightly hovered above yours. On your tiptoes, until they dug into the soft dirt beneath you, you firmly pressed your lips to his and wrapped your arms around his neck. Your mortal lover gladly reciprocated and tightened his arms around your waist until your chests were firmly pressed against each other.

When you finally parted for air, Robb lovingly stared at how beautifully flushed your cheeks became. He watched in a lust-ridden gaze at how your fingers swiftly undid the ties in front of your dress. He felt his breath stop as the garment pooled at your feet. Your body was completely bare and unclothed, and your skin was unmarred and looked silky-soft. You took his hand and held it at your breast - he could feel how fast and hard your heart was beating.

He wondered if you even knew how much of his breath you took away.

"I want to feel you, my love," you whispered. "Just us, under our tree, where only the witnesses of our love are our gods."

Robb choked back a groan. If he felt his cock growing hard at the sight of your skin, your words made his cock weep for your wet walls.

Gods, he loved you so much - how could he refuse?

Hurriedly, he took off his cloak and laid it down on the ground before removing his clothes with your help; Robb was just as bare and naked as you were. You gasped at the sight of him.

How could one man be so beautiful? How did such beauty become possible? How blessed were you to receive his love?

He leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. His tongue swiped your bottom lip, and your lips parted to grant his access to fully devour you. When it felt like you would collapse from the lack of air, his lips trailed down your neck. You heard him murmur against your skin.

"I love you."

He repeated it over and over again, and your breathing became heavier as he continued to trail down. On the tops of your breasts, he deeply breathed the addictive perfume of your skin and began to lay kisses within the valley. His gentle hands roamed and caressed your skin with so much tenderness as his fingers reached that soaked spot between your plush thighs. He slowly slid his fingers inside you, and he growled at how much your slick arousal coated his calloused fingers.

You, on the other hand, felt completely lost in the sea of pleasure Robb was drowning you in. He was gentle. He always was with you, but today...it felt like he was the one who would completely fall apart without you.

Despite you were in full knowledge that it was truly the opposite.

Because for all of his Northern roughness, he was a man who loved with all his heart. He was utterly loyal to those he loved and cherished—a sentiment he shared especially with you, and you could not have been more grateful.

"I want to be here with you," he softly mumbled. "I could never want for anything else if I lived the rest of my life here, with you and our children. You, my pretty fairy, as the mother of my children, and me, your loyal wolf, forever protecting you."

He felt your core clench at his words as hot pleasure shot up your spine. It was a dream the two of you often shared - a life without obligations or duty, no fussy mothers or pushy fathers to stand in your way, and no empty and bleak futures looming over you. A life where it was just the two of you, riding through your forest with your horses, the woods filled with the laughter of your children. And when the day ended, the night would be filled with endless pleasure as your thoughts would only be full of him and his full of you.

You tenderly stroked the curls from his face as you felt the dam holding your pleasure slowly breaking.

Your chest was heaving. "It will, my sweet wolf," you promised. "Ours is a love no one can take away—the gods have shown it to me. After all, our gods are the ones who brought us together in the first place."

It was not long until you completely fell apart and gushed over his fingers. Your back arched as you coated your inner thighs and his fingers with your slick. Robb huskily chuckled as he pressed kisses down your stomach as you tried to catch your breath. Your fingers intertwine with his lovely, auburn curls in an attempt to anchor yourself to this material plane.

"Lie down," he softly ordered. "I won't take you against the harsh bark of a tree."

"Oh, but on your cloak in the dirt is an acceptable alternative?" you teased despite lowering against the soft, dark furs of your lover's fine cloak.

He smirks at your mirth as he crawls toward you. His perfect form hovering over you as if you were prey and he was about to devour you whole.

"Of course," he confirmed. "After all, I plan to take you on it until the only word you know how to say is my name, and the furs soak up all of your cum until it's all I can smell on it until the end of time."

Biting your bottom lip in anticipation, you could hardly wait for him to make good on his promise.

Robb aligns his cock at your entrance, its head red and its tip leaking with precum, as he slowly pushes inside you as wraps his hand in yours. He was only halfway inside you before he fully pushed himself in and completely bottomed out.

You cried as white, hot pleasure shot up your spine and flooded every nerve in your body. You felt so full and could hardly wrap your head around the fact that you and Robb's bodies were joined together as one.

"Fuckin'- fuck," he gasps out. "How is it you're so tight every time I take you?"

"Because I'm yours, Robb," you answered breathlessly. "My body was made for you as yours was made for me. Such pleasures could only exist between us - us and no one else."

Feeling the pool of pleasure in his stomach overflowing at your words, Robb begins to slowly thrust - in and out - until he reaches a steady rhythm that makes you senselessly babble as you feel your body becoming dull to everything but Robb. You felt every slow drag of his hips, every lingering trail of his touch, every hot breath on your skin, and you wondered how one man could make you feel so good.

He hits that spot inside you—the one that makes you see stars that only he could reach. Your eyes roll back, and you beg him to kiss you. A wish he complies without question—because what is his purpose if not to grant your every wish in his power?

It isn't long until he feels your walls clenching around his cock, and he can feel his control quickly slipping.

"Fairy, my fairy," he pleads against your lips. "'m close, 'm cumming."

"In-inside, my love," you beg. "I want you to spill your seed inside me. Let it take root in my womb, and our child grow."

Your grip on his hand tightens as your love's thrusts become quicker and sloppy, and he hits that spot inside you even more harshly and roughly. You scream as your walls clamp down on his member as your arousal spills out and coats his cock. He quickly follows after you, pushing himself as deep as he can to fill your womb with his seed as a groan resonates deep within his chest.

Despite the exhaustion flooding his muscles, Robb does not collapse atop you or pull out. Instead, he presses a soft kiss on your sweaty temple and lies by your side. He holds you close and breathily chuckles at how close to sleep you look in his arms. He places a small peck on your nose and smiles at how it scrunches so adorably.

"Rest now, my love. I'll be here when you wake."

You let out a loud yawn. "Good...believe it or not, this isn't what I had planned for us."

"Oh? And what were we supposed to do before you...distracted me?"

Robb raises his brow before smirking at the memory of how you initiated seducing him. You swatted his arm.

"My mare successfully gave birth to a foal. He's so beautiful - a red and white coat. I already love him."

"Have you named him?"

"Yes, Kodak."

Robb wanted to ask why you decided to name him that of all things, but you were burrowed in his chest - already in a deep sleep. With a content smile, he followed suit and met you in a dream. A beautiful dream where it was just you, him, your children, and 'Kodak.' All of you laughing and smiling in your beloved woods.

Underneath the weirwood tree, you and he met all those years ago - when you were still a sprite, and he was still a boy. Underneath the weirwood where Robb saw you for the first time, and he swore to the Old Gods and New that he would love only you for the rest of his life.

A promise he swore then, a promise he still keeps, and a promise that remains true until his last breath.

@dipperscavern, if you've died from an overload of fluff and love delulu fantasies...then I've done my job

[vivwritesfics]

My Girl Can Ride - CL16

Another one for the horse girls! This time with Charles Leclerc

SMAU

y/nrides

liked by charles_leclerc, username1, and 16,734 others

y/nrides swapping one Ferrari for another (I miss Enzo so much 😭😭)

view all 773 comments

username1 she loves him so much she named her horse after his team😭

yourbff Enzie says he misses you too 😘😘

y/nrides stop i'll cry 😭

charles_leclerc yourbff tell Enzo I'm sorry for stealing his mother

charles_leclerc

liked by y/nrides, maxverstappen1, and 730,912 others

charles_leclerc my girl can ride

view all 80,914 comments

username2 HIS PR TEAM DEFINITELY DIDN'T ALLOW THIS 😭😭😭

username3 my favourite couple in both paddocks ❤❤

y/nrides Thank you so much for being there today, I love you ♥️

charles_leclerc Je vous aime♥️

y/nrides

liked by charles_leclerc, yourbff, and 26,187 others

y/nrides swapping one paddock for another 🫶

view all 634 comments

yourbff take me with you next time!! 😘😘😘

y/nrides but then who would look after Enzie? 🤧🤧

y/nrides

liked by charles_leclerc, yourbff, and 36,823 others

y/nrides best of friends🥹

view all 881 comments

username4 i did not have this on my 2023 charles leclerc bingo

charles_leclerc I ❤ enzie

y/nrides he loves you

charles_leclerc

liked by y/nrides, maxverstappen1, and 890,153 others

charles_leclerc she's gorgeous

view all 7012 comments

y/nrides like you 💖💖

charles_leclerc no you ❤

username5 she's living my dream 🤧🤧

cl16_charlesleclerc_fan

liked by y/nrides, username6, and 18,624 others

cl16_charlesleclerc_fan LOOK AT HOW HAPPY HE LOOKS BECAUSE SOMEBODY MENTIONED Y/N!! GET YOSELF A MAN WHO LOOKS AT YOU LIKE THIS

view all 735 comments

y/nrides 🥰🥰

username7 I want him so bad

username8 he's so pretty frfr

y/nrides

liked by charles_leclerc, yourbff, and 46,343 others

y/nrides my (2nd) favourite guy

view all 4,832 comments

charles_leclerc who's the favourite?🤔

yourbff enzo, ofc 🫡

charles_leclerc i can't compete with that 😔

username9 akajajikadhiudhiwdhisa screaming into a pillow rn

username10 how am i attracted to this?

y/nrides tell me about it

[pedroscurls]

save a horse, ride a cowboy (one-shot)

summary: hugh takes you to go flower picking, but all you can think about is taking him back to his car and riding him. pairing: hugh jackman x fem!reader word count: 3.1k warning: 18+, mdni! - reader has some description (hair/outfit), smut (teasing, unprotected p in v, car sex, so slightly public, creampie - oopsies, hugh calls you his good girl, reader is very dominant (and hugh doesn't mind it one bit!!!), biting and marking, cowgirl obviously) a/n: huge shout out to @wolverigrl for this amazing request!!! i'm just so obsessed with seeing hugh in a cowboy hat, like it literally just does something to me and i can't help it🙂‍↕️ i hope you enjoyed this as much as i did writing it, thank you for sending me the idea! this is purely fictional! i mean no disrespect to hugh jackman. y'all should listen to save a horse, ride a cowboy by big & rich while reading 😉

“Come on, baby.” Hugh says, knocking on the bathroom door. “We’re just picking some flowers. Shouldn’t be too long and–”

You finally step out of the bathroom, dressed completely opposite from what Hugh’s wearing. He’s dressed in a pair of khaki cargo pants, a dark gray hoodie with his hiking boots and a cowboy hat. You knew the moment he put that on that you had to go change.

You bite your lower lip when you look up at him, feeling immense pride from the way his eyes are looking at you from top to bottom and bottom to top. You’re dressed in a white babydoll mini dress with a sweetheart neckline, empire bodice, and slightly puffy short sleeves. The silhouette of the babydoll dress continues with a ruffle at the end of your dress, stopping just at the middle of your thighs. 

You step forward, hands reaching out for him as your dark brown cowboy boots click against the tiled floor. You see the way Hugh’s throat bobs as he swallows deeply at the sight of you. 

“You ready, cowboy?” you ask, running your fingertips along his chest. 

Hugh still hasn’t spoken, eyes still glued to your entire frame as he takes your hand, presses a soft kiss on your knuckles, and then makes you twirl around in front of him. The ends of your dress lift slightly and Hugh has to clear his throat at the sight. 

“You’re wearing this to just go flower picking?” 

“I wanted to look cute,” you grin. “And besides, whenever you wear that cowboy hat, it just does things to me, Hugh.”

Hugh steps closer, his free hand moving to rest on your hip. “And what’s that, baby?” 

“Hm, you’ll find out.” You wink and lean up to peck his lips lightly. “Let’s go pick some flowers, cowboy.” 

As you’re walking away from him, Hugh turns around and watches. His eyes move from your shoulders, down to your back, settling for a few moments on your backside and then down your legs. He takes his cowboy hat off for a moment and shuts his eyes, mentally praying to himself that he keeps his excitement down – though the stirring beneath his pants tell him that it’s going to be difficult. 

You call out his name and look over your shoulder with such an innocent look, batting your eyelashes at him with your lower lip pulled between your teeth. Hugh opens his eyes to look at you and takes two large strides to get to you, an arm wrapping around your waist from behind as his hand splays against your abdomen.

His lips hover near your ear, breath fanning against you as it causes shivers to run through your body. “You’re like a southern belle,” he grins, nibbling at your ear. “I like it.” 

Your eyes flutter as you lean back against him, moving a hand to rest over his. “Wait until I ride you like a cowgirl,” you tease, turning your head to gently nip at his jawline. “But only after we pick some flowers.” You teasingly grind your backside against his front, immediately feeling his hardened length beneath the fabric. 

Hugh grunts in your ear and then releases you, putting the cowboy hat back atop his head as he takes your hand. “Let’s go.” He doesn’t spare you another glance as he leads you to the truck in the garage. Hugh knows he’s weak, knows that he can’t control himself when he’s around you, but he promised you a week ago that he would take you to pick some flowers. 

And Hugh is a man of his word, even though all he wanted to do was take you back home and have you ride him like you said you would. 

—

You couldn’t even focus on picking flowers, but Hugh’s taking it very seriously. He’s holding a white bucket, already filled with purple flowers as you trail behind him. Ever since you saw him put on that goddamn cowboy hat earlier that day, you knew you would be distracted. It’s the main reason why you had changed, why you’ve been trying to get his attention, to tease him and cut this flower picking session short. 

But Hugh wouldn’t budge. You noticed that he’s kept his eyes focused on the task at hand, only looking at you to make sure you were helping. It isn’t until you tug on his hand that you look up at him with a big grin as you take one of the flowers to tuck behind your ear. 

“How do I look?” You ask, batting your eyelashes once more up at him. 

Hugh bites his lower lip as he gazes at you from the rim of his hat. His gaze darkens at the sight of you and the grip around the bucket tightens as he tries to think of anything other than you riding him. 

“Gorgeous,” he finally says. 

The heat in your cheeks rise and you lean up on your toes to peck his lips. “I’m having a great time.” 

“You barely picked any flowers,” Hugh chuckles. “I’ve been doing all the work.” 

“Oh, that’s intentional,” you wink. “You’ll get a reward after all your hard work, I promise.”

“Reward, huh?” Hugh says quietly, moving his free hand to cup your cheek, watching you lean against his touch. “What d’ya have in mind?” 

You bite your lower lip, turning your head slightly to kiss the inside of his palm. “How about we go back to your truck and I just show you?” 

“We’re not done—”

You interrupt Hugh by taking the hat from him and placing atop your head, the flower in your ear falling and landing on the ground. You smile innocently at him, moving your hands to flatten the wrinkles on your dress. 

Hugh’s at a loss for words. The cowboy hat he was once wearing now completes your entire outfit as the hat sits perfectly on your head. Your hair cascades down your shoulders, his eyes moving quickly to take in your entire frame. God, you looked incredible. 

“I want to ride you, cowboy. Can you let me do that?” 

Hugh nods slowly. Usually, he’s always the dominant one in this relationship, always the one to tease you until you’re begging for more, always the one to talk dirty because he knows you love it, but now… Now, Hugh feels his resolve slipping. He likes this side of you, likes that you’re taking control, and he has no issue with you taking the reins. 

“We gotta go back home and—”

“No,” you interject. “I want to ride you in your truck. Unless,” you tease, running your fingertips along his arms and up to his shoulders. “You can’t handle a little risk.” 

Hugh’s eyes narrow down at you. He knows that you’re doing this on purpose… and he knows that he’d give in because he’d do anything for you.  

“Anyone can just drive up here, baby.” 

“No one but us have been here for the last hour.” You play with the strings in his hoodie, biting the inside of your cheek in anticipation. “Come on…” you tell him, slowly beginning to drag him back to the truck. “Please?”

“Oh, we’re begging now, are we?” Hugh cracks a smile, the center of his pants tightening as he brings the bucket filled with flowers to cover himself. 

“Don’t you want to have some fun? Live a little on the edge?”

“I think I’m a bit too old for that,” Hugh chuckles. He knows it’s true. The age gap between the both of you was something that he was hesitant about, but you proved yourself to be nothing like women your age and it was… nice. A surprise. Something he certainly wasn’t expecting either. 

You roll your eyes. “So, we’re pulling the old card here, huh? Fine then, old man. I’ll just have to fix my problem myself. I’ll meet you in the truck.” You hold his gaze, watching his eyes repeatedly dart down to your lips back up your eyes. There’s a tense silence that fills the air between the both of you and you know he’s going to call your bluff, knows that he can see right through you. 

“Be my guest,” he growls lowly. Neither of you move and Hugh can sense that you didn’t like his answer. He can see the way your brows begin to furrow together, eyes narrowing. “What? Why ya looking at me like that, hm?” 

You don’t answer him and just take his free hand, leading him back to the truck without a word. Once at the truck, you take the bucket of flowers from him and set it on the bed of the truck before you push him against the driver’s side door. When you look up at him, you can see the surprise look on Hugh’s face as you step forward, hand moving to run down his chest, down his abdomen, until it hovers near the center of his pants. 

Hugh inhales sharply, one hand reaching out to grip your hip. Luckily, your body covers what you’re about to do as you run the palm of your hand over his growing bulge. Your eyes still remain locked on his, watching his own flutter at the sensation. 

“B– baby, we should–”

“Get in the truck,” you tell him, releasing your hold on him as you reach for the handle of the door. Your eyes darken, laced with desire and lust and Hugh feels himself throbbing almost painfully at this new side of you. He turns and helps you open the door as he climbs up on the seat and then looks over at you. 

“Well?” he asks, tongue darting out to lick his lower lip. 

You reach down to push his seat all the way back as it will allow, giving him enough space for his legs and enough space for you to climb up on top of him. Once seated on his lap, you rest your core firmly against his hardened bulge and shut the door. The windows on his truck are tinted, which does provide enough privacy for the both of you and the windows are cracked just slightly so that there’s a breeze that enters the car. 

“We really–fuck,” Hugh groans, head resting against the headrest as he feels you roll your hips against his firmly. His hands dart out to rest on your hips, gazing up at you as your hands rest on his shoulders. He sees the way your face contorts in pleasure, mouth slightly agape, eyes fluttering. 

“Shh,” you tell him, gripping his shoulders as your hips grind down into him. You can feel the length of his manhood press against your wet core. Slowly, you sit back against his thighs to reach down to undo the button and zipper of his pants as he lifts his hips slightly off the seat to push down his pants and boxers past his thighs to relieve the pressure. His manhood stands at attention, already throbbing and leaking at the tip as he stares up at you. 

Your legs are placed at either side of his hips as you reach down with your free hand to grasp his base, running his tip along the length of your sex. Then, you see his eyes widen when he registers that you hadn’t been wearing any underwear this entire time.

“No underwear, hm?” Hugh growls, grabbing the ends of your dress to lift at your hips. He sees your exposed sex and his length running along your wet heat, his grip on your hip tightening even further. “You minx.” 

“Easy access,” you grin, lifting above his hips slightly as he notches his tip at your throbbing heat. Slowly, you lower yourself down onto him, your walls stretching almost painfully to give way for his girth. Releasing his base, you move both hands back on his shoulders, biting your lower lip as the cowboy hat remains on your head, tilting it slightly back so that Hugh can get a good view of your face. 

Hugh lets out a loud groan at the feel of your walls sliding down his length, so warm, so wet, so tight and gripping him in a vice. He feels his breath catch in his throat when you finally lower yourself to the hilt and when he looks up at you, wearing his goddamn cowboy hat and holding onto his shoulders like your life depended on it, it just turns him on even more. 

“God, Hugh,” you moan, slowly rolling your hips forward and backward as your walls begin to give way to him. You’re so wet, your arousal leaking out of you and dampening the hair at his base. With each roll of your hips, the hair provides just the right amount of friction against your bundle of nerves and you quicken your movements, chasing your own release. 

And you’re close. Hugh knows it too, so he gently reaches up to lower the front of your dress. He lets out a quiet whimper at the sight of your exposed breasts, succumbing to your every move and allowing you to do all the work. “No underwear, no bra…” he groans, leaning forward to latch his mouth onto one of your peaked nipples. “Such a good girl for me,” he mumbles against you. “My good girl.”

My good girl. That’s it, baby. Fuck. 

It’s all you needed to hear for your walls to clench around him, reaching your first orgasm at record speed. You stop all movements, firmly sitting on his lap as you feel his tip kiss your cervix. He’s so deep in this position and it feels so good, so full of him. Of Hugh. 

Hugh has to pull away for a moment to watch you. He always loved watching you reach your climax, the way your eyes shut tight, your mouth slightly formed in an ‘o’ shape, and a moan escaping your lips. It was the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen before. You were the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen before. 

And now, the image of you orgasming wearing his cowboy hat with your dress pulled down enough to expose your breasts is an image that he will never forget. 

“Gimme a sec,” you pant, feeling him lift his hips slightly off the seat. You’re still sensitive, but you know that you want more. You need more. Leaning forward, you gently kiss the tip of his nose as the rim of his cowboy hat touches his forehead. “I’m only getting started,” you whisper. 

Hugh grunts and nods. He needs you to move, needs more of you, but he stays patiently waiting. He hooks a finger under your chin and gazes directly into your eyes, a small smile lining his lips. “You said you’d ride me, baby…” he says lowly. “Show me what you got.” 

And just like that, a flip in you switches and you grip his shoulders tightly. You gaze into his eyes and then begin to lift your hips, feeling every vein and ridge of his manhood throbbing against your walls. You hover above him until his tip is the only part of him inside of you before you slide back down on his length. You see his eyes flutter at the movement and you feel the grip on your hips tighten even further and you just know that it’s going to leave a mark later.

Hugh leans forward, lips pressing firmly against the side of your neck as he growls against you. He moves his hands from your hips to the flesh of your backside, gripping you tightly as he feels your walls grip him so tight, sliding along his length. He lets out a loud groan, teeth grazing your pulse point at your neck before he bites down roughly, kneading the flesh of your backside as he feels your hands from his shoulders to the base of his neck. 

“Hugh,” you moan, beginning to pick up the pace as you lift your hips upwards and back down. “So deep…” 

He pulls back a bit and gazes at the growing mark that he just made on your neck and it spurs him on even more, gazing up at you to see your eyes focused solely on him. Hugh knows he’s close and he leans back to rest against the seat, allowing you to just ride him like you said you would. 

You’re holding onto him as you both gaze down at where you’re connected, his manhood glistening with your slick before you slide back down onto him until he’s filling you so fully. 

“Fuck,” Hugh groans, watching as you move your hips forwards and backwards again. He feels it building in the pit of his stomach and he looks from where you’re connected, back up your body to your face, growling at the sight of you in his cowboy hat. “Mine, all fuckin’ mine,” he groans. 

Your hips move faster, the hair at his base once more providing the right amount of friction against your clit. You feel your walls begin to tremble as your hands lock together at the base of his neck, holding onto him as your hips roll repeatedly against his. 

“All yours, cowboy,” you tell him through quiet moans. 

That’s all it took. Hugh grips your hips, holding you still as he reaches his own high. He lets out a loud groan, head tilting back as he shoots his release deep inside of you, painting your walls. You’re breathing so heavily and you reach down to rest your hands on his wrists, slowly moving your hips forward and backward to milk every last drop out of him. 

He shudders against you, squeezing your hips as he slowly opens his eyes to look up at you. You’re gazing down at him with a small smile as you lean forward to kiss his cheek. You remain on his lap with his manhood still deep inside of you, feeling him soften within your walls. 

You cover yourself back up, bringing the top of your dress back to cover your breasts as you look at him. Hugh’s breathing so heavily, eyes focused directly on your own. 

“So this is what happens whenever I wear that cowboy hat, hm?” he says quietly, a small smile lining his own lips.

You grin and nod, looking up at the hat on your head before turning your gaze back onto him. “You wear this and I’m riding you every time,” you promise. “And I’m gonna be wearing it while I do.” 

“God, you’re amazing.” 

“Save a horse, ride a cowboy, right?” you tease. 

Hugh nods and wraps his arms around your waist, leaning forward to peck your lips lightly. “I’ll be your cowboy anytime, baby.”

--

forever taglist: @haytchee @wolverigrl

[bonbonly]

I think a LOT about sugar daddy Lewis Hamilton after a argument, and how his way of venting would be through aggressive sex. He’d really enjoy humiliating you with words and punishments like slaps in your pussy, and even more so by writing obscene things on your body (like belly, pussy, chest/tits, tights, etc), like: "free hole" "daddy's little" "cum here" "whore" "dirty cunt" "slut"

i love this man

anon let me kiss your brain oh my god !!!

bon's thoughts (18+)

ooohhhh when the argument is argumenting as i like to say! one day you're throwing a tantrum about how lewis isn't paying enough attention to you. and this goes beyond buying you gifts or something, no he makes little effort to listen to what you're saying, or he walks off in the middle of a conversation. he's a bit stressed out about his work, mind always elsewhere and he doesn't necessarily have time to take you to some fancy restaurant and dote on you like he always does. so you've reached your limit and you're yelling at him, telling him how you wish he was there for you. and his voice is getting louder and louder because he's so upset as to why you're not seeing his side of the argument which is the fact that he's busy with work, he doesn't mean to ignore you like that, you're his baby! you of all people should know that! he's mentioning how he's always supporting your education, looking up opportunities for you to study abroad and make connections but you don't buy any of it.

so you tell him the most infamous last words you could've thought of, "maybe i should find a better sugar daddy. because clearly you're old ass isn't getting me anywhere."

his eyes widen at your words, he's honestly in shock. and then he's giving you a death stare, "i'm going to be a very reasonable man right now, baby, so i'm giving you 5 seconds to apologize for what you just said."

and you're crossing your arms, shaking your head like a little girl on a high horse, "nuh uh, nope. i mean every word i said!"

so as he's fucking you, hard and rough, he's laughing at the way you're crying, overstimulated and tired. he hasn't let you in cum this entire time. he's always leaving you right on that edge that you so desperately want to fall over. it's probably the 5th time he's done it, and he's pulling his cock out of your cunt, watching you clench around nothing because you want to be filled up again, filled up and made to cum. but he's having none of it.

"you think any other man can fuck you like this, huh?" he's slapping your cunt, watching you squeal as you shake your head, "if i was so old, i wouldn't be making you scream every night, right?"

"i want words, answer me when i'm talking to you slut," he growls, but the words are always in the distance, out of your reach. he's biting the inside of your thigh, licking over the bruises he left you and shaking his head, "i'm never letting another man touch you, no... you're mine, you're my fucking..."

he pauses, leaning over you to grab your lipstick that you left on the nightstand last night and with his mouth, uncaps the object and spits it out onto the ground before rolling the bottom half to get a good chunk of your lipstick out.

"wait lew no, don't waste it, it's exp-" you begin, but you're met with a harsh slap on your cunt,

"what? i'm sorry, my old ass can't hear you baby," he mocks you, rolling his eyes in the process. you can briefly hear him mutter, "i paid for it, i can do whatever the fuck i want to do with it..."

and he's writing cum dump over your stomach, watching you squirm at how sensitive the cool lipstick is to your skin that just wants some relief after being denied to cum so many times. on your thighs, he's repeatedly writing mine and he goes up to your tits, biting your nipples while he writes whore over your breasts and then on your forehead he's writing slut. he leans back a bit to get a good look at his lovely masterpiece before chucking the lipstick onto the ground. he uses his fingers to part your folds, leaking all his cum that's gifted you graciously before getting off the bed. you're crying, begging him if you can cum at least once but he's giggling, putting his clothes back on,

"but baby you have all MY cum, that should be enough for you right?"

[beloved-calypso]

・ ゜ ʚɞ ゜ ゜𝕳𝖔𝖜 𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖇𝖊𝖉𝖗𝖔𝖔𝖒? ♡ ・ ゜ ʚɞ ゜ ゜‎♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡ 18+!

♡ 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒽𝓊𝓂𝒶𝓃 𝒷𝑜𝒹𝓎 𝒾𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝓅𝒾𝒸𝓉𝓊𝓇𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒽𝓊𝓂𝒶𝓃 𝓈𝑜𝓊𝓁.” – 𝐿𝓊𝒹𝓌𝒾𝑔 𝒲𝒾𝓉𝓉𝑔𝑒𝓃𝓈𝓉𝑒𝒾𝓃 ♡

All pictures and gifs are not mine but belong to their original artists. ♡

I. -> II. -> III.

ᴍᴅɴɪ!!! ʏᴇᴘ, ɪᴛ'ꜱ ᴀ ᴛᴡᴏ ꜰᴏʀ ᴏɴᴇ. ᴇxᴄᴜꜱᴇ ᴀɴʏ ꜱᴘᴇʟʟɪɴɢ ᴏʀ ɢʀᴀᴍᴍᴇʀ ᴍɪꜱᴛᴀᴋᴇꜱ.

~ XOXO 💋🎀

౿૮꒰ྀི pile 1 ๑◞꒱ა

[2 of Swords rx, Emperor, Judgment rx]

Well pile 1, your sexual prowess is rough and playful. I think you have a dominant streak, or at the very least, you like to take the reigns from your partner, and guide how the night goes. I think ya'll are natural leaders, and have the need to take control for yourselves. The ones that pick this pile are definitely toppers. I'm seeing some wild-girl cowgirl positions mostly front facing, but some back rides as well. Do some of ya'll go to a ranch and ride horses? Ya'll have strong thighs and stamina. Ya'll like to grind and ride and have a fun time doing so, may have a reference for teasing and play-fighting. You make sure that your partner is the focus and that they are completely distracted and absorbed by you, like nothing matters in comparison to the moment. Your partners find this irresistible, tempting. Your demeanor feels playful, I can see you being the initiator, and rarely will you ever be denied. You may like to sex it up in unfamiliar spaces, experiment here and there and try new things. You can be a bit demanding, even forceful, but your partners will like it. They find it sexy, and are relieved that they have found a partner who can speak their mind and is able to handle even the awkward, embarrassing parts of sex with grace. I think you give them the space to think, to pause for a moment in their busy, possibly tumultuous lives, and let loose with your sex. You create a bubble like atmosphere where it's just you and your partner, and you both can relax and be yourselves, all giggles, smiles, and laughter. I can see you directing the way things play out; play fighting, subduing, and then consuming. I see you being the type of lover that is excitable, loud, and always un-serious. You may like to start off with foreplay-touching, squeezing and embracing-and then the main event, making sure needs are attended for and that you both are satisfied. Not seeing many quickies. You like to enjoy yourself, and take as much time is needed to commit to the act. Sex is a fun exorcise to stress and negativity. Climax's are maximized and prolonged. I can tell ya'll are lovers of penetration and motion, and are very good at pacing. I heard you put the motion in the ocean 😂. I genuinely laughed with those one. But ya'll are so free and enticing. I can see that the best parts of your sex are the way your partners can relax with you, melt in you. They are comfortable enough to let you take control, and they are relieved at someone that can give them pleasure just as much as they take it from them. Your sex feels so fun and freeing.

⊰᯽⊱┈───── ✧

౿૮꒰ྀི pile 2 ๑◞꒱ა

[9 of Wands rx, 8 of Swords, Knight of Cups]

Ya'll are slow lovers. I think the most important thing other than exploring each others bodies is exploring the others' minds. Vulnerability is a big highlight here. In order to satisfy you, your partners need to come with mental stimulation and not just physical. I'm getting in general, you like to unravel your partners, do to them as you would a piece of chocolate in a wrapper. Your partners feel quite naked with you, figuratively and literally. It's hard not to attach to you because in order to bed you, your partners feel like they have to sacrifice something to you. I got a vision of you in a cave at an altar, lit with candlelight, and a person with a hopeful, almost fearful, look on their face, on their knees with an offering presented. They can't come to you with an empty plate and expect to win you over. I don't think ya'll would give your time to casual relationships either. Partners would have to work at lowering your defenses. You're like a princess protected by a moat. On the outside, you may come off as closed off and uninterested, but there is much activity going on in your mental space. You have a lot to offer, but partners need to come to you with just as much. You're quite selective and come towards those that match your energy. I think you prefer sex at a slow, measured pace. I'm getting my lovemakers here, and the energy is very dream-like and cozy, like a person wrapped up in blankets, eyes closed, and day-dreaming. There's also a pronounced aspect of wetness in your sex. Lots of fluids are exchanged here, and a playing of those fluids. Why did I hear, "relaxed cumplay,"and "slip and slide", lmao. You may get very wet, like to play with oils and lubricates, and are attracted to sweat and moist skin. It's also the emotions revealed in sex that attract you. I see your partners get so worked up that they climax big and long. You transport people into a fantasy. You may especially like to cater to people and agree to whatever you wish they share with you. There's also a need to please and serve. Your touch is very soft and giving. I'm getting roleplay and sensory play. Your bedroom is such a secluded and sacred space that every partner will feel like stepping into it, is like stepping into a new world. I think you like to push your partners and make them open up to you, but gradually and slowly, so that they are willing. ✨️Very Lilith vibes.✨️It's giving the impression of control through submission. This pile is more into vanilla stuff but enhanced, like conventional kinks if that makes sense. Sex while soft and slow won't be boring. It will be emotionally fulfilling. The excitement that comes from the build-up alone will be enjoyable. If you imprint anything on your partners, it's that sex isn't a race, it's a journey, and the small things do matter in the end goal.

⊰᯽⊱┈───── ✧

౿૮꒰ྀི pile 3 ๑◞꒱ა

9 of Cups, The Emperor, Wheel of Fortune

People here have a big personality and a competitive streak. Sex with you is exciting and unpredictable. There's a want to prove something through sex, as if it's a battlefield of some sort, and only one can come out the winner. I feel like a few people in particular have a thing for woman empowerment, and want to prove just how powerful they are through sexual means. Ya'll use it as a style of communication, as an expression of sides of yourself that can't be easily seen or received. I think this pile has sex for the fun of it, and there's a pinch of mischief that comes out once the bedroom door is closed. This pile likes to play coy, likes to tease and rile up their partners and prolong their anticipation. I think ya'll are quite wild in the bedroom, and I just saw a vision of two people going at it like tumbleweeds, lol. I think the want for sex often corresponds with your moods, and your tastes can vary widely, so your a sporadic lover, the type able to adjust to anything thrown at them and improvise, also the type able to be 100 different people in the bedroom. Pile 3 are some minxes. I think some of the people here are short, and get a kick out of acting bigger than they are. It's cute. I think a big thing that comes out is your masculine side. Like I said that competitive energy stems from a need to please and be the best pleaser. Your masculinity makes you eager and able to confidently do things others would be too shy to do. I think ya'll focus on creating multiple climaxes; multiple sessions, multiple places, multiple positions. The possibilities are endless, and there are many records to break is my point. Ya'll are very driven and full of energy. That translates into a fast and frenetic passion of the moment. Your partners absorb your energy, try to match you and share in your delight. I see lovemaking in the morning, a couple fresh from deep sleep, still looking disgruntled, but warm sunshine cutting through the curtains and laughter seeping through blankets. I'm not seeing specific kinks, but I see a platter with a variety of assortments. Ya'll are comfortable in your bodies and may like to study on different, sometimes extreme, positions to try next. I think this pile are Kama Sutra naturals. Sex isn’t taken too seriously, but it brings some measure of emotional fulfillment. Your partners find satisfaction quickly, completely, and they succumb to a warm afterglow in the end. I feel this pile has the best hugs and the best aftercare. I feel the comfort of a bear hug and the warmth that comes with it. It feels very tender and very at odds with what would be an exhausting but vigorous bout of sex, but it works out in an endearing way.

⊰᯽⊱┈───── ✧

ᴀɴʏ ᴄʀɪᴛɪᴄɪꜱᴍꜱ ᴏʀ ꜰᴇᴇᴅʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴀʀᴇ ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇᴅ. ɪ'ᴍ ᴛᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴀ ɴᴇᴡ ᴅɪʀᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜɪꜱ ʙʟᴏɢ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀᴍ ᴏᴘᴇɴ ᴛᴏ ᴀɴʏ ᴏᴘɪɴɪᴏɴꜱ ᴀꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ɪ ᴄᴀɴ ɪᴍᴘʀᴏᴠᴇ ɪᴛ. ♡

ᴅɪꜱᴄʟᴀɪᴍᴇʀ

© lolita-bonita — Please do not plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my work on other social media platforms without my permission. This is the only platform that I post this type of content. If you see my work being posted anywhere else, please kindly report them to me. ♡

⊱┈───── ✧

✨️ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: Tarot is not an exact science, nor can it produce information that is factually true. All things posted are alleged and for entertainment purposes only. The future is fluid, and what may happen is based on your choices and actions, not what I and a deck of cards say. You are still the creator of your future. ✨️

⊰᯽⊱┈───── ✧

[onlyangel4]

put some clothes on. LS2. SMAU.

logan sargeant x actress!reader

in which logan is dating an actress who is not afraid to do sex scenes and play risque controversial characters so when they hard launchf1 fandom decides that she is not wag material. but logan and reader do not give a fuck.

faceclaim- sydney sweeney

warnings: 18+ sexual content, cursing, slut shaming

author's note: please do keep on sending requests, the more detailed the better! i write written fic and smaus for most of the grid and a handful of associated people.

y/ninsta

liked by zendaya, tomholland, hunterschafer and 1,230,101 others

y/ninsta: save a horse ride a cowboy

view all 13,291 comments

zendaya: you are glowing my love

y/ninsta: that means a lot coming from you, queen of the glow

y/nfan: miss girl you can not just soft launch and leave us like this i stg

user3: guys we have lost her. to a man.

user4: oh y/n i thought what we had was special

logansargeant

liked by alexalbon, danielricciardo, landonorris and 157,601 others

logansargeant: life lately

view all 8,301 comments

f1fan: omg omg logan is soft launching

user6: i'm surprised he even knows what a soft launch is

danielricciardo: i have known who your girl is for like six months and i am still fucking shocked

user8: six months! they have been together that long and we had no idea?

user7: daniel spill who tf is she

alexalbon: finally soft launching the girl that keeps on stealing lily from me

f1wags

liked by f1fan, user9, user10 and 56,798 others

f1wags: admin can not believe that they are typing this right now but logan sargeant just hard launched his relationship with y/n y/ln by attending the season two premiere of euphoria. y/ln plays cassie in the popular show and has won awards for her work but she is also known to play out there characters and do intimate scenes in film. something pretty much unheard of for a wag. what are your thoughts on this couple.

view all 908 comments

user9: my two worlds are colliding i adore y/n and i hate the current discourse around her relationship with logan. yes she plays these characters and films these scenes but it is all for entertainment. she is hollywood's it girl at the moment for a damn good reason.

user10: i can't believe i have seen logan sargeants girlfriend's tits that is mental

user6: that just isn't wag behaviour

user11: not logan dating hollywood's whore

f1fan: she will never be a worthy wag her behaviour is just inappropriate

y/ninsta

liked by logansargeant, danielricciardo, alexademie and 1,923,731 others

y/ninsta: my baby euphoria season two is out now ! i had the best time filming this with my favourite people i hope you all love it as much as i do.

view all 21,438 comments

logansargeant: so proud of you my love

user12: proud of your girlfriend for having sex on tv? you do you boo

danielricciardo: logan introduced me to euphoria and i am fucking addicted

user13: how can you support this relationship

user14: i am both a f1 and y/n fan and i am fucking disgusted by the comments over the post. this is a woman celebrating the release of something that she had worked so hard on and you are all criticing her just because you think you know what is right for her boyfriend. fucking childish.

liked by y/ninsta and logansargeant

logansargeant posted a story tagging y/ninsta

written: so proud of my girl

user15 replied to your story: tell your girl to put her tits away

logansargeant blocked user15

y/ninsta

liked by logansargeant, zendaya, lilymhe and 2,129,091 others

y/ninsta: somebody pinch me ! i collaborated with frankie's bikinis to bring you a line of seven bikinis. the ones featured in these pictures are my three favourites but i wholeheartedly believe that there is a style for everyone in the line. drops on the 1st of may !

view all 21,210 comments

lilymhe: my jaw just dropped you are so hot

alexalbon: can confirm she has not stopped looking at these pictures since you posted them

logansargeant: that's my girl

y/ninsta: say it louder for the people in the back

logansargeant: THAT'S MY GIRL

user17: how can you hate this couple they are the cutest

user18: put some clothes on

user19: put some clothes on

user20: put some clothes on

logansargeant

liked by y/ninsta, danielricciardo, zendaya and 250,982 others

tagged: y/ninsta

logansargeant: please stop telling my girlfriend to put some clothes on it is detrimental to my mental health

view all 9,281 comments

y/insta: they could never make me

logansargeant: exactly what i want to hear babygirl

user20: babygirl! i'm going to go lay in traffic

alexalbon: pr is going to kill you mate

logansargeant: worth it

user21: everyone say sorry mister sargeant it will not happen again

user22: sorry mister sargeant it will not happen again

user23: sorry mister sargeant it will not happen again

user24: sorry mister sargeant it will not happen again

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

a few words. l Joel Miller

Summary: words he didn't want you to hear

Warnings:  angst, unpleasant conversation, they move away from each other

A/N: nothing special. your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

short stories from life. [masterlist]

Tommy looked at his brother as if he was seeing him for the first time in his life. He hadn't expected this and was slowly regretting that he had shown up at the stables with a few bottles of beer that evening.

"You can't be fucking serious." he finally said.

The man who was sitting on a haystack by the wall seemed exhausted. His brown eyes were fixed on the horse in the opposite stall, the bottle in his big hands still full of beer.

"You slept with her?" Joel looked at him surprised. "What? Simple question. Did you sleep with her or not?"

Joel shook his head. "No."

"But you wish you did."

He looked down, but he couldn't lie to someone who knew him so well. Of course he thought about it. Most often when he was alone in the dark bedroom. Memories of every kiss, tender touch, moments when he held you in his arms - all of these haunted him like ghosts.

He was furious because he wanted more. He wanted to be alive again, to feel again. But should he?

"Joel, you've known each other for years, you live together. Why are you messing with her head if you don't want anything to do with her?"

"It's not like that, Tommy..." his voice was tired, barely audible. "Everything's different with her."

"So why don't you want to give it a chance?" Tommy took a sip of beer. "I don't get it. If you want to be with her, then be. Tell her how you feel and..."

"I'm too old for this!" Joel snapped. "She deserves better, and I can't give it to her."

"Bullshit!" Tommy muttered.

There was silence for a moment. The distant noises of the city settling in for the night drifted through the open stable door. Tommy sat down next to his brother, resting his arms on his knees.

"She's a really nice girl," he said. "I see how she looks at you, cares about you and Ellie. Do you really want to break her heart like that?"

"She's tough."

"Yes, she is."

"Are you going out?"

You were just putting a thermos with a hot drink and a couple of sandwiches into your backpack, you didn't even look up when Joel went down to the kitchen in the morning.

"Yeah. I'm going on patrol." you answered.

Joel frowned. "Our turn is tomorrow."

"I swapped with Paul. He'll go with you. You two get along."

An unpleasant shiver ran down his spine, his heart sped up. The backpack was almost ready, and you didn't seem in the mood for long conversations.

"I'd rather go with you." he grumbled, coming closer and clenching his hands on the back of the chair.

"A change will do you good. It'll do us good too."

"Have you talked to Tommy about this?"

You slung your backpack over your shoulder and looked him in the eye for the first time. He saw something strange in that look. A mixture of sadness, anger, and some kind of severity. You hadn't looked at him like that before.

"You'll probably talk to him yourself, right?" you said "I think..." your voice broke for a moment, but you quickly got back on track. "I think when I get back I'll ask Maria to find me another place to live."

"W-What? Why?"

"We both know why."

You adjusted your backpack and left the house. The world you had built had just collapsed.

"What the fuck was I supposed to do?"

"You could have not let her go!"

"She's an adult, Joel! She came last night, said she had already talked to Paul. I couldn't say no to her." Tommy put the crate in the storage room and looked at Joel.

He could see that his brother was furious and distraught. You usually went on patrols together, Joel didn't like you going out alone. Although he knew you would manage, he didn't fully trust others. Now he had completely lost control over anything.

Tommy looked at him with pity. "I think she must have heard us yesterday. Maria saw her in town, she was upset. Then she showed up at our place. I didn't ask, it's none of my business."

"You could have stopped her." Joel repeated quietly.

"And you could have kept her with you. But you chose not to."

He could.

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

taglist, i think: @picketniffler @orcasoul @bbyanarchist