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talaok · 2 months ago

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Giving up

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Coaxing your neighbor into having sex with you although he's unsure since he's much, much older than you

Warnings: big ass unspecified age-gap, Jackson!Joel is a softie Smut| unprotected piv, crempie, insicure!joel, sub!joel, also my man has trouble lasting cause he's not done this in a very long time.

a/n:i needed to write some cheesy romantic stuff, and maybe it doesn't really make all that sense in this story and maybe i cried while writing this cause no one is ever gonna love me like this but so what bitch leave me alone (i also am i lil tipsy as i proofread this, so ignore any mistakes pls)

Part 1

"did you do something to your hair?"

Tommy was standing on Joel's doorstep, looking at him as if he were an alien.

"I washed 'em" he grumbled, "what do you want?"

His brother couldn't help but huff out a laugh

"someone's in a good mood today"

"I've gotta be somewhere, just tell me what you want"

Tommy's interest was only piqued more.

there stood his brother, his clothes perfectly clean- maybe even ironed- his hair... styled, his beard trimmed...

something was definitely going on.

"Where are you going?"

Joel rolled his eyes now, shooting his little brother a death glare

"none of your business"

Oh he knew what was going on...

"Who is she?"

"Tommy-"

"Is it Jessica? I bet 's Jessica, she's always flirting with you you ol' dog-"

Joel swore he was gonna punch him- he was already running late because of how long he took to pick his clothes- finding a flannel that wasn't completely worn out turned out to be real fucking hard.

He felt stupid for how much effort he'd put into getting ready, he felt stupid for how anxious he was, but most of all... he wanted his brother to go away.

"There ain't no one, Tommy- now, if there ain't anything you need, please go-"

But just then- just when he was finally going to get rid of him, your sweet, soft voice made its way to his ears.

"Hi Joel! Hi Tommy!" You smiled from your porch, waving your hand at him and his brother "You didn't forget about today, did you Joel?"

What in the actual fuck?

Tommy did a double-check, looking between you and his brother, and when he finally confirmed that it was actually him you were talking to, you whom he'd gotten all dolled up for, he couldn't do anything but let out a slow, long breath.

"No I didn't- I'll be there in a minute, darlin'!" Joel was answering you as his brother regained his ability to speak

"well... Fuck. Me" he was in awe, his voice barely a murmur

"it ain't like that" Joel was quick to intervene "'m just fix-"

"'m sure it ain't" Tommy let out a chuckle, his hand going to pat his brother's back "You fucking lucky bastard"

"Tommy I know she's young bu-"

"shut up man" he laughed "Just go have fun, you asshole"

__ __

"Sorry 'm late, Tommy was just-"

You smiled at his words, shaking your head

"It's ok, Joel" you cooed as you let him in,

He gave you a soft little smile, and you felt like the luckiest girl in the world.

Joel Miller didn't smile just at anyone.

"water?" you asked, leading him to the kitchen.

"Uhm- sure"

His heart was damn near beating out of his chest already- for no fucking reason at all.

Well except the obvious one... you'd sucked his dick and he'd eaten you out three days ago- and you'd made it clear you wanted more.

Jesus Christ, he felt like a fourteen-year-old with his first crush.

You watched him as he sipped on the glass.

"So?" a soft smirk was caged between your teeth "Did you think about it?"

He damn near choked.

Which didn't make any sense, he was expecting this, he already knew you'd ask.

He cleared his throat, diverting his eyes from you "I-I have"

"And?"

You'd gotten closer, your expectant eyes studying every inch of his face

pleasepleasepleaseplease say yes

"Did- didn't you have something that needed fixing?"

Oh for fuck's sake

"joel" you called for him in what almost sounded like a plead.

"darlin' just... lemme fix your cabinet first"

This man was gonna be the goddamn death of you.

"ok"

__ __ __

As it turns out, in many different ways.

Who knew watching him fix something would turn out to be so fucking hot?

He'd rolled his shirt up so that his strong forearms and a glimpse of his beautiful bite-worthy biceps were showing, his hands moved so very expertly that they couldn't help but bring back memories of what those same fingers had done to you just a few days ago, and his face... he looked so hot when he was all in his head, concentrated only on the task before him-

or so you thought.

"You're gonna stare at me the whole time?"

A soft laugh escaped your lips

"don't mind me- just enjoying the view"

He huffed out a laugh as he went back to work, but you couldn't help but notice the fact he pushed his sleeves ever further up his arms, giving you more of a view of his delectable skin.

What a tease

__ __ __

"there we go" he said after some time, opening and closing the cabinet one final time to make sure "all done"

For the record, this time you hadn't even done it on purpose, the cabinet had actually broken. It was like fate was sending you a message.

You awakened from your daydreams as he stood up to his full height, and hopped off the stool you were sitting on to walk closer to him, noticing some dampness in your panties while doing so...

It wasn't your fault... he was the one looking way too hot doing such a simple task.

"thank you" You smiled up at him, your hands going to his chest,

He held his breath for a moment

"'s nothing babygirl"

"yeah? then... you think you could check my bedroom too?" you were biting your lip in a way that made your question take on a whole different meaning "to make sure nothing needs fixing y'know?"

"In your... bedroom?"

"yes, Joel- please" you added, with your best innocent doe eyes.

Which of course made him fold in a matter of seconds.

You'd taken on a different tactic. It was obvious at this point that the man was too shy and too unsure to give you an answer (or the one you wanted to hear anyway), which is why you needed to present him with the actual possibility right in front of him.

And yeah maybe it was manipulative, but fuck it if you didn't wanna feel the man inside of you.

The flashbacks of what he did to you on that bed filled his mind the moment he stepped into the room.

He needed to get a grip or he wouldn't be able to hide his growing bulge in a minute.

"Everything seems right"

"yeah? 'm not sure about the bed" you hummed, desperately hoping he would just go along with it "it makes a weird sound when I get on it"

He turned to you then, his eyes locking with yours for an infinite second.

"try" you said finally, nodding to the bed.

He watched you for a moment longer before, surprising you, he did it- he sat on the bed.

The mattress creaked underneath his weight, and you made quick work of strolling closer to him as he pressed his palms on the bed, checking for the inexistent "weird sound"

"it don't look like there's anythin' wron-" he looked up the moment your hands found his shoulders "Whatcha doin'? sweethear-"

You were sat on his lap before he could even finish the sentence.

"Joel" you spoke his name softly, as if it were a caress, your hands slowly moving up and down from his shoulders to his pecs, as you finally scooted closer to him so your core was right against the hardness in his jeans-

He inhaled sharply, his fingers curling on the bed.

"would you like to have sex with me or not?"

You accentuated your words with a slow roll of your hips, grinding onto him and making a soft groan build inside his throat

"this- this ain't really fair sugar"

A smirk pulled at your lips as you lowered your head to whisper in his ear "I never said I didn't play dirty, Mr. Miller"

Your right hand trailed lower, moving down his belly so slowly that Joel thought he might just lose his mind.

"You're y-young baby-"

Your hand had found his crotch, the outline of his dick fitting in your hand oh so perfectly.

"we've gone over this already Joel, I'm old enough" you purred, your lips leaving a peck just below his ear "old enough to do many many things"

He cursed under his breath

"I just... I don't understand"

A breathy laugh escaped you

"there's not much to understand really" you murmured "You're hot, and I like you, and I wanna get in your pants"

That earned you a chuckle

"and you're sure you won't regret this?" he asked, "you sure this is what you really want- that- that you don't want to give a boy your age a chance instead of me?"

You smiled as you looked up at him,

you'd never met a man so sweet

"Joel, I promise you I'm sure" you whispered "I promise you this is what I want, you are what I want"

Fucking damn it

How could he ever say no after that?

With those gentle eyes of yours looking at him, with your hand right over his cock...

"So?"

He was gonna think about the consequences tomorrow. Now- now there was only you.

"yes"

That single word sounded better than any song you'd ever heard.

yes

Your lips were on his before he could even think of changing his mind- and god did they feel like a dream.

His soft stubble grazed against your cheeks and upper lip, as you deepened the kiss, as he opened up to you, closing his eyes only after he'd taken you in, only after he could admire all that was happening to him for some godforsaken reason.

A growl rumbled from his chest when your core found his dick again, grinding onto it in a way, that combined with the way your tongue was tasting every inch of him, was making him see stars.

He didn't think he'd kissed like this in 30 years,

making out seemed like such a distant thing from him, he was much too old to do something like this, and yet... everything about you made him feel like a teenager all over again, so perhaps it was fitting-

and god he had forgotten how amazing it felt.

You started undoing his flannen, not even dreaming of breaking the kiss, and once you opened his shirt up, once his big strong chest was right there before you, you just had to look at it.

You leaned away, his lips chasing yours making you smile as your gaze lowered.

Jesus, he was the hottest man you'd ever seen.

Some hair and freckles adorned his pecs, his little belly was ever so cutely fighting against his jeans- his skin was soft beneath your palms as they explored every inch they could reach.

He was looking at you, watching your blow-out eyes, wondering what potion you'd drank to be this mesmerized by what he had to offer.

You smiled once you caught him, leaning closer to leave a quick kiss on his lips.

"take off your clothes"

You got off of him, and once he saw you get rid of your shirt, your boobs pushed together by a simple black bra that somehow, at the moment, seemed like the sexiest thing in the world, he rushed to follow suit, nearly tripping getting off his pants.

The moment he looked at you again, the world- the universe, it all went quiet.

You stood naked before him, a soft, perfect little thing, looking like a damn dream.

"babygirl" he could only breathe as you reached him again.

"What?" you laughed

"I-I don't even know"

You shook your head, grinning from ear to ear as he pressed his mouth on yours again.

He was already addicted.

In a haze, you found yourself on the bed, your body caged beneath his, his tongue fighting with yours, his hands all over- You almost had the urge to laugh at how desperate he seemed, how frantically he was touching every inch of you, exploring every piece of skin-

His hands were on your tits, fingers gently playing with your nipples, then on your belly, your waist, your ass, your thighs, until finally, he found your core, but before he had the time to fully reach it you'd switched up with him, straddling his lap as he laid flat on his back... only he couldn't keep away for even a second and he immediately sat up, grabbing your waist.

He couldn't even begin to complain that you'd already grabbed his cock, positioning it at your entrance.

You couldn't wait anymore- you needed him now.

"Wait-" he murmured, his breathing labored already "you sure you're... y'know ready?"

Oh my god, you swore you were gonna fall for him if he kept this shit up.

"Joel" you smiled, looking into his big brown eyes "I've been wet since you fixed the cabinet"

"I-" he blushed "You-you sure?"

You didn't answer him, you simply took one of his hands in yours and guided him to feel just how much you were telling the truth.

"Fuck"

"yeah" you smirked "that's just what you do to me, Mr. Miller"

Jesus fuck

Joel didn't think his cock had ever been so hard.

You didn't give him time to do or say anything- he'd gathered that's how you did things by now- as you slowly, oh so very slowly, started sinking onto him.

He was big, the kind of big you'd be feeling tomorrow morning. The stretch hurt just right, so overwhelmed by the unadulterated pleasure that it was barely there.

Soft little moaned gasps spilled from your lips with every inch added, your eyes were closed, only focusing on the extraordinary feeling as your nails clawed at Joel's chest.

Until, finally- you'd done it. You were fully sat on his cock, and while your eyelids fluttered open, you regained your ability to hear- to hear the curses leaving Joel's mouth between ragged breaths

"Jesus Christ- Jesus fucking Christ- Goddamnit"

His grip on your waist was so tight you were sure it was gonna leave a bruise... not that you were complaining.

"you ok?"

His eyes were shut close and creases of effort filled his forehead, while his chest went up and down as he desperately tried to breathe.

"Joel?"

He swallowed tightly, now breathing in through his nose before exhaling from his mouth.

"d-don't move"

You smiled as you promised "I won't"

God this was fucking embarrassing.

He'd spent three days training.

And yes he wasn't sure he would have said yes, but still, better safe than sorry- except for the fact it clearly hadn't worked.

He had spent three days fucking his own fist and trying to last as much as possible and he did do progress... but this... this was fucking nothing like what he'd felt in the last twenty years.

He was so fucked

"I-I'm sorry" he gritted out, sounding almost defeated "I- I haven't done this in a long time darlin'"

"And you... you feel so fuckin' good- fuck"

Your walls had inadvertently squeezed around him at his words, making a groan rumble in his chest.

"You have nothing to apologize for Joel"

he would have told you that your voice was making everything worse if he weren't so preoccupied with trying to calm his dick down.

"take all the time you need"

And so he did, his eyes remained closed as he breathed through the initial shock, until finally, after what felt like an eternity, he was back.

He had to stifle a moan once he opened his eyes back up.

There you were, your beautiful eyes trained on his with such gentleness and care that it made where his gaze fell to feel even more sinful.

Your boobs were barely touching his chest, and yet they could have been in his face for the effect they had on him- his hands were on your waist, holding onto your soft flesh, your thighs were straddling his lap, giving him no choice but to finally look between your bodies, where you two connected.

"Darlin'" he murmured, hypnotized

You smiled, watching him admiring you in silence

"You look..."

Every word that came to mind wasn't enough, you were otherwordly, you were perfection... so he just settled on the simplest, and perhaps truest of them all.

"you're beautiful"

Your cheeks burned with heat as his gaze came back to yours.

"so are you, Joel"

And that was that.

His lips found yours again, and you couldn't stop your hips as they started moving, rocking back and forth and bringing little waves of ecstasy to your core.

A desperate moan spilled from yours to Joel's mouth as he grabbed the back of your head, forcing you into an even deeper kiss as he started following your movements.

Your hands went to the back of his neck, grabbing at the hair at the nape of it as you finally started bouncing on his dick, and god- god it was even better than you could have ever imagined

The loudest growl sounded from his throat as you worked yourself up and down on his shaft.

He was in another universe, his actions were only reflexes as the hand not tangled in your hair found your tits and then your ass, grabbing at it with tenderness and need.

"Oh Joel" you cried, his dick filling you up better than anything ever before.

You could quite literally feel him in your stomach, every little vein and ridge of skin creating a permanent dent inside of you that only he was ever gonna be able to fill.

"sweetheart- fuck" he groaned on his own, your breaths mixing as you ghosted each other's mouths, his eyes raking over your body and face, while yours couldn't help but roll to the back of your head as his manhood hit a particularly good spot.

"You feel so- good Joel" you whimpered mindlessly, now quickening your pace, desperation taking over you completely.

the sound of him entering your drenched core mixed with the bed creaking underneath you as you drove yourself closer and closer to heaven.

The sound of his name falling from your lips was something that filled Joel's chest with an indescribable feeling, he felt on top of the word, and at the same time... at the same time he wished it had never left your mouth because it was now forever imprinted in his brain, and he knew nothing was ever gonna compare to it.

Oh and also- also it was making his little lasting problem real fucking hard to control.

But he was nothing if not a gentleman,

You were gonna come, he wasn't gonna have it any other way.

His hand lowered down your belly as you kept chasing your release, looking like a damn glimpse of paradise, until his thumb found your clit.

"Oh fuck" you moaned, your eyes snapping open to look at him- a dark glaze of lust shading your iris.

Joel realized too late that he hadn't taken into account how fucking tight you'd get, and was now really paying the consequences.

Plus when you looked at him like that... maybe just this one time he could not be a gentleman- I mean it's not like he had much choice, he was trying his hardest but- shit

"darlin'" he mumbled, his thumb circling your bud "w-where do ya- where do ya want it?"

You moaned louder just at the thought of him coming

"Inside"

It wasn't even a question

"N-no sweetheart I-I shouldn-"

"Joel" you interrupted him, your lips grazing his as you talked, your grip on his hair tightening "I want you to fill me up until I can feel you leaking out of me for days"

Good Christ and heaven

"Fuck me" he cursed, all his strength going on not coming right there and then "Darlin' please- tell me you're close"

You were already seeing stars as he spoke

"I'm close, baby- oh fuck" you cried "Joel!"

A tsunami of lust-filled pleasure coursed through your veins as your orgasm hit like a damn truck.

You couldn't even remember your name as you screamed his own into the thick air, as you moaned and cried and spasmed around him, feeling him do exactly what you'd asked- filling you up to the very brim.

He'd started coming the moment you did- he couldn't do anything about it, it was just unadulterated perfection-

His head fell between your neck and shoulders as groaned like a man possessed,

until finally, after a good three minutes, you were both back to the land of the living.

He looked twenty years younger when he looked at you again, and you- you looked like the most beautiful woman on earth.

A soft smile pulled at your lips, and you couldn't help but ask "How long before we can do it again?"

And fuck him, but his age didn't matter, with those eyes of yours, it might very well be minutes.

@kluvspedro @bluebiyou @casssiopeia @bean-is-reading @millerispunk @i-cant-stfu

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no-144444 · 4 months ago

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family fights- o.piastri

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summary: you and oscar were never meant to be together, lando made that clear. one night changes everything, then another changes it again.

pairing: oscar piastr x fem! norris! reader

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He’d done it again. Another win. Oscar Piastri was a two-time GP winner.

And no one could ever take this one away from him.

Over the past few weekends, he’d been pretty down about everything. Hungary, the whole ‘papaya rules’ bullshit, and how everyone had something to say about Monza. He’s a fucking racecar driver, and he wasn’t a second driver. It’s in his goddamn contract, thanks to Mark. And anyways, why would he pull over and let Lando take points from him, when he’s so close to P3 in the Driver’s standings? Charles is slowly but surely trying to build a gap, and Oscar is not planning on making it easy for him. It’s his second fucking season of F1, and he’s matching his teammate. Is that not something to be proud of?

Apparently not in Lando’s fan girls’ eyes. It’s pathetic really, the memes were funny a while ago, and now it’s all getting to be too much.

And then there’s you. Lando’s sweet little sister who loved Oscar more than life itself. You’d gotten him through the lows of the past few weeks, with just a smile his way.

But Lando wouldn't let you two be together. It was a ‘betrayal’, in his mind.

It was bullshit. Lando liked having something over him, and you were the ‘thing’ in this scenario. You’d liked Oscar for ages, and you started in secret, too scared to tell Lando. You continued like that for a whole year, somehow hiding it seamlessly. It was the best relationship either of you had ever been in. You matched each other perfectly, and you got to see him everyday, since Lando had brought you on as his physio. Stolen kisses behind closed doors was a-ok with you two, until Lando had to walk into something he wasn’t supposed to. It was your anniversary night and yes, maybe you should’ve checked that the door was properly locked, but when he was kissing you like that? Who would be able to find it in themselves to care? For some reason, Lando walked into your apartment, ready to tell you off for not locking your door, and he found you and Oscar asleep in your bed, 1 year anniversary cards on the counter, and a bottle of wine beside the sink. On the drying rack there were 2 clean plates, two sets of cutlery, two glasses, one bowl, and two spoons. He was so angry. He just stormed in and started screaming at the two of you, telling you that you’d betrayed him for a whole year, making accusations left and right, and generally just ruining your perfect night.

Then he gave the both of you an ultimatum. Date and lose him as a brother and a friend, or break up and he’d never speak about it again. You two could be friends, but always at a healthy distance.

It took you both a week to make the decision. You were both crying when you called him to tell him you’d broken up. His response? Good.

He barely talked to either of you for a month, and you truly feared the worst for your relationship with him. But, in true Lando fashion, one day he just started to be normal again, and everything was ok.

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Oscar still remembered the way you looked when he'd made the choice to go behind Lando's back. You were wearing your favourite dress, you hair styled perfectly, your nails done, your makeup done, everything. It was for some boring gala that Oscar didn't want to sit through, and neither did you. Though nevertheless you went as the dutiful sister you were and made polite conversation with the gross old dudes who wouldn't leave you alone, and Oscar (he hoped he wasn't grouped in with them).

"Do you want to get some air?" he offered as you finished up a conversation with Christian Horner.

"I'd love to," you nodded, somehow keeping the soft smile on your face.

You burst out of the hall laughing, having run away from Lando. You got on well with Oscar. He was lovely, honestly. "He's going to kill us," you laughed, grabbing ahold of his shoulder to steady yourself.

"Worth it," he smirked.

You two spent some time outside, eventually ending up outside in the cold French air. You two somehow ended up intertwined on a bench outside the venue.

"I really enjoyed sneaking off with you," you beamed at him.

"I really enjoyed it too," he blushed. "We should do it again some time."

You laughed. "I think Lando will kill us if we pull that again-"

You stopped talking because he'd started kissing you, and you didn't want him to stop.

"I like you," he pulled back. "A lot."

It was so juvenile you almost laughed. Yet, you found yourself answering with; "I like you too."

And thus began your year-long love.

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To be honest, Oscar hated clubs. He hated the sweaty air, the suffocating closeness of everyone, and the heavy drinking. Oscar didn’t drink much, mainly a glass of wine with dinner every now and then, or a celebration drink when there was something to celebrate. He wasn’t a huge fan of feeling out of control.

Despite all of that, he’d somehow been convinced by Lando to go ‘out on the town’. He didn’t want to go out on the town. He wanted to stay home, or bump into you in the cinema near your shared apartment building. You two had been doing that a lot lately, bumping into each other there. You’d sit together, or a few chairs apart, but it’d feel a bit like before you’d broken up. It felt good.

You missed him dearly, as he did you. He knew you were going to see a special midnight showing of Psycho, yet he couldn’t even go because Lando dragged him out.

“Mate!” Lando shouted from the other side of the VIP booth.

“What?” Oscar asked, walking up to him.

“I have someone I want you to meet,” Lando, being the prick he is, signalled to a girl in the middle of the dance floor that looked nothing like you. “Look, she’s nothing like Y/n! It’s perfect!”

Oscar felt his blood boil, and finally spill over. “Fuck off Lando. That’s not fair-”

“What’s not fair was the fact that you dated my little sister behind my back!” He shot back.

Oscar grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him out of the club, into the humid Monaco air. This back alley was usually used for a smoke break, but tonight it would be used as a fucking ring.

“I’m not expecting you to understand anything I'm going to say, but fuck you Lando. I loved Y/n- I love Y/n, and you took that all away from me because of what?! You felt betrayed? You felt bad? It was overwhelming? We’ve proven that we’re not awkward if we break up, we’re actually ridiculously civil, all for your sake! You’re the one being unfair here. Yes, maybe we should’ve told you earlier. Yes, maybe it was wrong to keep it from you, but for fuck’s sake man! She’s your little sister, I’m your friend, it’s not like you don’t know us! I’d never do anything to hurt her, and she’d never use me, or whatever bullshit excuse you gave me. Now, I know you don’t fucking understand this, but I love her. More than anything in the entire fucking world. More than racing, more than anything. She’s what gets me through the shitty days and even shittier races. Knowing that, once I get out of the car, she’ll be standing there with a smile, or a hug on the occasions where you don’t watch us like a fucking hawk, makes it all fucking worth it for me. You took that away from me, and you took it away from her. It ate at her the entire year we were together that she couldn’t tell you, because well, of course it would! You are her older brother, her best friend. She should’ve been able to tell you about her boyfriend. She questioned herself after every day we spent together, every date we went on, about whether or not what we were doing was right. She felt so guilty. I felt so guilty. But at the end of the day when I saw her waiting for me in my driver’s room, or my apartment, or at the foot of the podium, I knew that what I felt was right. And it wasn’t just me feeling it Lan, she loved me back,” he sniffled, trying to hold back tears. “So no, I don’t want to meet someone at a club, I want Y/n. My Y/n. And I don’t give a fuck if you’re upset by that, because I’ve given you every reason to trust me Lando, and I promise you, I’ll never try to hurt her. I’ll keep her safe, and above all, I’ll love her.”

Lando was taken aback. He was a lot more sober now. He’d never seen Oscar show so much emotion. He’d never seen Oscar show much emotion, point blank. Yet here he was, standing in front of him, crying over his little sister. “Mate, what do you mean?”

“I means you’re a fucking asshole Lando, and I don’t give a shit if you don’t want me to date Y/n. It means I’m going to ask her out again, and if she says yes I won’t stop just because you’re a dickhead who can’t stomach the fact that she loves me, and I love her.”

Lando was again, taken aback. He’d never really had a reason as to why he didn’t like you and Oscar dating, it just felt… weird to him. Then, with about a moment's worth of self-reflection, he realised. He didn’t want to be second to Oscar. All his life, you’d been his biggest supporter, you two were always together, always there for each other, always his little sister. From cradle, to karting, coffin, he thought he’d be the only driver you supported and cared about. Then, in came Oscar, being everything he wanted to be; cool, calm, collected, talented, unprideful, gracious, and kind. Everything he worked to be. It had taken Lando 6 years to get a win, Oscar did it in his first year. It took Lando 2 years to get a podium, Oscar did it in his debut season. “Well it’s just not right,” Lando shot back. “She’s my little sister, and I’m not being second to you with her! That’s not fair. She doesn’t get to choose you over me!”

“She chose you! She broke up with me because you asked her to! I don’t know what the fuck you think is going to happen if we start dating again, but it’s not like we’ll just abandon you Lando! She’s your sister, and she loves you more than life itself! For fuck’s sake, if this was all about being scared that she’d pick me over you, we could’ve sorted this out weeks ago!”

“I have to be second place to a fucking rookie! Do you know how that feels? Bad, Oscar, it feels bad. And now you want to come here and tell me that I’m second place to that same rookie, in my sister’s opinion? Y’know how that feels? Worse!” Lando was crying now, unable to control it. “I’ve been second to someone my whole fucking life, and Y/n was the one person who understood me! And now you want to take her away!”

“I’m not taking her away, Lando! We’re both still going to be here for you!” Oscar took a deep breath. “You shouldn’t take your frustrations on the track out on her, she’s the one suffering for it. You’re suffering for it too, and so am I. Lando, she loves you no matter what, you know that.” “I’m scared alright?” He groaned. “I’m scared that one day I’ll turn around after an interview and see her celebrating you winning over me! I’m scared that she’ll see I’m not as good as you! I’m scared.”

“You can be scared all you want, but she isn’t like that, Lando. Talk to her about this, she’ll reassure you-”

“And how the fuck would you know? You barely know her-”

“I know her a lot better than you do if this is what you think of her,” Oscar’s words cut through the tension in the warm air. Lando flinched like he’d been hit. “Now, if you’ll excuse me from this shitty night out, I’m going to go find your sister and tell her how I feel. Goodbye Lando.”

Oscar didn’t even bother going back inside to grab his coat, he just started walking. Jimmy’s was a 30 minute walk from your regular cinema, and if his calculations were correct, you’d be getting out of the screening just then.

As he walked he thought about everything Lando had said. It was pathetic, honestly, why couldn’t Lando have just told you how he felt instead of ruining the incredible thing you and Oscar had going with his own insecurities. Maybe he didn’t understand it, maybe Lando just hadn’t experienced what you two had.

“Oscar?” you walked up to him, smiling.

“Hi,” he answered, stopping in his tracks.

“How are you?” you asked, awkward tension filling the air.

“I’m… I’m alright. I wanted to talk to you,” he explained.

“Talk away,” you smiled.

“Well… Lando and I had this big blow up argument, and I made a choice. I don’t care what he wants anymore, and if he has a problem with me loving you, then it’s his problem, not ours. I want you back Y/n, more than anything. I miss you every fucking day. And if the only reason we’re not together is because of him, then I’m forgetting how he feels. I want you back if you’ll have me.”

You stood there, shocked. It had been 4 months since you and Oscar had broken up. You loved him, but you loved your brother too. You couldn’t put your relationship with your brother at risk for Oscar, could you? Lando had been for you throughout your childhood, a constant. You wouldn’t be able to handle him not being there, would you? “Oscar, when did you two argue-?” “30 minutes ago?” he shrugged, a soft smile on his lips.

“I-oh wow. Osc, you know I love you, but Lando’s my brother and… I can’t betray him, can I?”

“Is it betrayal?” Oscar questioned.

You’d been trying to figure out for the past 4 months why it was betrayal, yet you came up blank every time. Lando had dated friends of yours, and broken their hearts, why shouldn’t you return the favour? “But he said it was. He’s my brother Osc… I can’t just… ruin our relationship-”

“He ruined ours!” he sighed, exasperated. “All because he’s a insecure prick, no offence-” “None taken-” “And he was scared you’d stop picking him over me, which I understand but like, for fuck’s sake, he could’ve just spoken to you about it!”

You thought for a moment. What did you want? Oscar. Always. You woke up thinking about him, fell asleep thinking about him, dreamt of him. He was everything you’d ever wanted. “Are we really going to do this Osc?” you whispered into the darkness of the night.

His lips turned into a smile, and then they were on yours. He’d gotten the girl, he’d gotten the win, and he didn’t care what anyone else said.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula one imagine #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x you #formula one x reader #formula 1 #formula one #mclaren #oscar piastri x fem!reader #f1 fluff #lando x reader #lando norris x publicist reader #lando norris x reader angst #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #lando norris

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justagalwhowrites · 7 months ago

Text

Just to be Sure

Your husband Joel is desperate to get you pregnant again.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

CW: Breeding kink smut. Joel really really REALLY wants to knock you up. Lots of pregnancy talk. Reader has given birth before and is at the age where she can give birth again so choose your own adventure for age gap but I picture them about the same age with Joel late 30s. Husband!Joel. No outbreak AU. Creampie. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI, 18+ only

Length: 1k

A/N: Forgive me for this. I am completely baked and couldn’t shake the thought of Joel having an insane breeding kink. I think if there was no outbreak and Joel found a woman, he’d be DESPERATE to knock her up over and over. He is all about his family, wants so many kids to look after, he’s always begging her for just one more. This is that Joel. He’s filthy. I love him. Also I wrote this in an hour and a half while on an edible and barely proofread it fuck if we ball also sorry I wrote it half on my phone in bed OK BYE LOVE YOU!

“Fuck, Joel…”

Your voice trailed off, weak and breathless, your hands grasping uselessly at the sheets around you.

You weren’t sure how long he’d had you here like this, sweating and fucked out as your husband slowly worked his cock in and out of you. You just knew you had to be quiet, that your one year old was asleep just a room away, a feat that was damn near impossible as Joel pulled yet another orgasm out of you.

“What, baby?” He panted over you, one hand gripping the headboard as he buried himself inside you yet again.

“You…” You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to focus. “You don’t have to get me pregnant to..to…tonight, you know…”

“Oh I know,” he said, his voice heavy with need and scratchy with exertion. “Wouldn’t mind tryin’ with you for a few months, fucking this pretty pussy full of me every damn night, comin’ so deep in you that you’ve got part of me in you all day every day.”

“Joel,” you whimpered, you couldn’t help it, your pussy drawing tight and hot around him.

“But, see, I’m not sure I can wait that long,” he said, pressing somehow deeper into you and holding himself there for a moment, making your cunt clench around him, your legs scrambling for purchase as your next orgasm built higher and higher. “Need to put another baby in you now, need to see your belly grow, need to fuck you until you’ve got part of me in you for damn near a year.”

“Oh fuck!”

You moaned it louder than you should have, Joel’s large hand going from propping him up to clamped over your mouth as your orgasm took you, the heat of it shooting out from your core and through your entire being, your heart racing, channel throbbing.

“Oh goddamn,” he groaned, fucking into you even harder now. “That’s right little mama, pull another baby out me, that’s it…”

“Joel, Joel, Joel,” you panted over and over again into his hand, mind reduced to nothing but your husband and how damn full he made you feel, especially with his bare cock buried deep inside of you.

It had been a year almost to the day that you’d last fucked without a condom. You’d been right at the end of your pregnancy, desperate for Joel and desperate for something - anything - to kick start your labor. The last time you hadn’t needed a condom, your contractions started 20 minutes after it ended.

Ever since, you’d been taking precautions. Not because you didn’t want another baby - you definitely did - but because you hadn’t gotten the OK from your doctor yet.

Today, that had changed. You’d gone to your check up and your doctor gave you a clean bill of health, including the OK to start trying to get pregnant again.

You’d figured Joel would want to get started trying that night. You just hadn’t counted on him pulling endless orgasms as a part of trying.

“Think you got one more in you, baby?” He asked, freeing your mouth to run his hand over your hair. You just whimpered. “M’close, wanna come with you. Come on, you can give me one more, know you can.”

You couldn’t find the words as he moved to suck your neck, so you just moaned and nodded and clawed his body closer and tighter to yours.

You could feel him smile against you then, the pace of his pounding cock picking up, the tip of him hitting the spot inside you he’d long ago claimed as his own perfectly with each stroke.

“Come on little mama,” he panted. “Takes better if you come with me, need you to fucking come baby, need to feel you fucking come when I make you pregnant.”

You weren’t sure Joel was fully aware of what he was saying but then, you felt like you were moving of your own accord, too, your hips rolling up against his, frantically pawing at him in a desperate attempt to pull him so close that it was like his whole being was inside you.

This orgasm claimed you quickly, going from starting to build to taking over you in a matter of seconds. You barely had a chance to warn Joel before it hit you.

"I'm gonna come," you managed just half a second before your channel started to fluffer around him. "Fuck, I'm coming! I'm coming!"

"Fuck, that's it," he said fucking into you with two more deep, devastating strokes before you could feel his cock throbbing heavily inside, the warm spread of his spend in your most intimate place drawing your orgasm out. "That's it, fuck, come while I put my baby in you."

His cock gave one final, heavy pulse before he collapsed on you, panting for breath as you went limp below him. Even as he lay there, damn near exhausted, he still managed to fuck his cock into you a few more times, driving his come even deeper.

When he was satisfied, he sat up from you and watched between your legs as he slowly, gently pulled his softening length from your aching, swollen sex.

“So damn pretty like this,” he said almost reverently. You felt the comforting warmth of his come drip out of you and then Joel’s finger was there, scooping it up and gently pushing it back inside your spent hole as it struggled to close after being opened by his thick cock for so long. “Gotta keep me deep inside her baby, s’where I belong.”

You just whimpered a little, still not positive you could form words as Joel lay beside you, his hand skimming slowly over your stomach down to the place that had grown your first daughter with Joel.

“Think our baby’s in there?” He asked softly, thumb brushing your skin in a gentle rhythm.

“I hope so,” you smiled at him.

“Don’t sound like you’re sure,” he smirked a little back. “Might just need to leave more of me in you, just to be sure.”

Your smile grew as his hand slipped lower.

“Just to be sure.”

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #smut fic #breeding kink fic #husband!joel miller

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artyandink · 1 month ago

Text

kindred

“DON’T STAY AWAKE FOR TOO LONG, DON’T GO TO BED”

A/N: a little angst piece cause I felt like it, heavily inspired by Carry On but it happens before so tEcHnIcAlLy Carry On is inspired by this :)

God, Dean should have never taken his eye off the ball, the ball being you. Sure, you were such a damn good hunter — one of the best he’d ever seen — but even the best had their drawbacks, even the best had their moments, even those moments couldn’t be afforded. You and Dean had been casing a possible group of vampires in Houston while Sam hunted a werewolf down in Wichita, and you two determined that it could only be a few. You could take ‘em, you were good enough.

Wrong.

It was a whole nest, a whole ass nest, which you two had been able to mostly clear with some machetes and bullets laced with dead man’s blood. Until one son of a bitch had snuck up behind you when Dean thought the worst was over and shoved a thin wooden stake right through your stomach and yanked it back out

How fucking ironic.

Dean couldn’t hear the yell of your name that left his mouth as you crumpled to the floor, couldn’t feel when his hand holding the machete lashed out and took the thing out, dropping to his knees in front of you as you propped yourself against a wall.

“Hey, hey, sweetheart.” His voice was frantic, looking at the gigantic fucking hole in your stomach that was leaking hot blood— shit, shit. “Keep your eyes open, yeah? Don’t take ‘em off me, don’t you dare. You’re fine, you’re—” He had to cut himself off before his voice broke into a million pieces. His heart was racing, head spinning, hands frantically taking off his flannel to press against your stomach to stem the blood flow— you were a fighter, right? You fought everything, you never backed down, you wouldn’t this time, right?

“Dean,” You rasped out, in shock, looking down at the gash that was in your stomach, then back at him. “Dean.” It was like you were a broken record in your head, your head lolling forward, to which his hands flew up to keep your head up. Your body was fighting, he could see it in your eyes. “D—Dean.”

Your voice was strangled, and that was one of the worst sounds he’d ever heard in his life. Hearing it hurt his heart almost as much as seeing the wound did. You were pale, clammy — you were bleeding.

“Eyes on me,” Dean repeated, holding your face tighter in his hands, his eyes flitting to the wound every other two seconds. “Eyes on me, princess, c’mon, stay with me. Please.”

The panic was clear as hell in his eyes, like a storm tearing through a calm night. The sight of all that blood, your blood, staining your clothes and the ground beneath you tore his heart open and just left him raw.

He gently kept your head in place, not letting you slump, not letting you give up. “Stay with me. No falling asleep, sweetheart. Stay awake.” Just keep your eyes open, keep looking at him. He needed to see the light in your eyes.

You could feel it. You could, the pain stabbed through your stomach, making you let out a sort of strangled cry, breathing heavily. “I’m not— I’m not ok, am I?” You couldn’t even recognise your own voice, it was hoarse, it was raspy. Oh, God, oh, God.

The cry punched Dean in the gut, and he held back an almost strangled sound from himself, the way your voice was so quiet and broken making his heart shatter. He didn’t answer your question, because if he knew you weren’t ok, he’d lose it. He’d go insane with worry.

He shook his head, refusing to believe it, refusing to accept it— you were fine, goddamn it, you were gonna fight. “It’s gonna be ok. You’re gonna be fine.” He repeated those words like a mantra, both for your benefit and his.

“I can’t— just tell me.” You begged, your eyelashes fluttering, but you kept them open, wanting to hear it. “Tell me you’ll be ok, Dean, please.” You reached for his hand on your cheek, gripping it. “You an’ I both know I ain’t makin’— makin’ it outta here.”

“Stop it. Stop it.” Dean’s voice was a broken whisper, his chest heaving. He couldn’t lose you, he would not. “You’re gonna be fine. You’re gonna be fine because I won’t let you die on me, do you understand?”

He wanted to break, he wanted to scream at the world, he wanted to cry and sob. But if he did, he’d fall apart. You needed him to stay strong, to keep you alive.

“Then tell me something good.” You whispered, hot tears rolling down your grimed cheeks, eyes becoming more vacant by the second and he saw it. “Tell me something good, talk t’ me.”

Talking, he could do that — talking was a distraction, yeah, distraction for the both of you. What was something good, though? What could he say to you that would be any reassurance when you were literally bleeding out in his arms?

“You know what’s good?” He spoke, his voice strained but still a little gruff. “You are. You’re so goddamn good. And when we get out of here— because we will get out of here, got it — I am gonna tell you that every day.”

You grinned weakly, losing control over your breathing, gripping his hand as fear struck through in the form of pain in your lower abdomen. “I love you.” You blurted, laughing a little in relief — a weak, barely there laugh — that you’d finally said it. You finally did it. “Never told you that, but god, I’m crazy for you, Dean. Just— just remember that.”

For once in his life, his heart soared and plummeted at the same time. You were saying this now? You had to say it now? Not when you were safe, when he could celebrate getting your love and devotion in words and actions.

“You’re a goddamn idiot, you know that?” The scoff he let out sounded wrecked, but his thumb was a gentle caress against your face, trying to sooth you, wipe away the tears. “Why say it now?”

“You know I don’t know how feelings work.” You scoffed, unable to stop a watery laugh, blood trickling from the corner of your mouth as you coughed, some more dribbling down. “But I’m glad I— that I said it. You love me back, right? You…” You looked to him for some confirmation. Any at all.

He ached at the sound of that laugh, and he almost winced at the sight of the blood dribbling from your mouth. You were losing it too fast for his liking, but you were staying awake, and that was something he wanted to cling to.

“Of course I fucking love you back.” The admission was instant, like he had no time to be coy or hide it. Hell, what was the point of hiding anything at this rate? “Been crazy about your stubborn, beautiful ass for years. Thought it was plain to see, sweetheart.”

“Do I have to remind you that I ain’t a psychic?” You coughed again, gripping his hand tight, eyes dropping to his lips. “C’mere. Please, c’mere, Dean. Just— I’m losin’ it fast, don’t leave me hangin’.”

“Not leaving you, sweetheart.” He assured you, his voice quiet as he gently lifted you and manoeuvred you so you were laying properly in his arms. All the while, one hand kept firm and hard against your stomach, while the other gently touched your face, the curve of your cheek, your hair — anything he could get his hands on.

He leaned down and pressed his lips against yours, trying not to think about how much his heart was screaming at the idea of losing you.

Your hand left his, cupping his own cheek, even if you knew you tasted copper and he probably could too. The kiss was simple, sweet, slightly desperate and one hell of a goodbye, not wanting to let it go, salt from your tears staining your lips as well.

The taste of your tears and your blood was something he didn’t want on his tongue, not one damn bit. It felt like a goodbye, like you were giving up, and he couldn’t have that. You were too damn good to give up, too good for him to say goodbye to.

“Please.” He mumbled against your lips, desperately kissing you, like they could keep you here, like a kiss from him would keep you alive.

“I don’t wanna go.” You whispered, losing grip fast, desperately holding on to talk to him. “Just— just don’t blame yourself, ok? It was my— my dumbass that got us here. Ok? So— so just tell me it’s ok, tell me you’ll be ok.”

“I don’t blame ya, god, I don’t." He didn’t even stop to think, he didn’t know how he’d keep going in a world without you. “Stop taking responsibility, you stupid—“

He cut himself off, hating how you were trying to act like your own death wouldn’t shatter him. All he wanted was to be able to fix this — fix you — and keep you alive.

He grabbed your hand and pressed it to his chest, wanting you to feel his heart, feeling your hand curl into his undershirt.

“Dean, please, tell me I can go.” You begged, feeling the tears fully roll down your face now, giving him a brave smile. “Tell me it’s ok, please, I can’t— I can’t hold on anymore.”

He didn’t want you to go, he couldn’t let you go, but he could see it in your eyes that your grip on the world was slipping. You were so damn brave, but he was selfish, he would do anything to keep you here, even just for a second longer.

“Go where?” He knew what you meant, but he wanted to hear it one more time, he wanted a few more seconds hearing your voice. “Please, sweetheart, fight for me.”

“I love you.” You murmured, voice weak, low, head tipping forward so your forehead rested against his cheek. “I love you… I can’t…” Your breathing was slowing, grip loosening on his hand. “Tell… me.” He had to, right? He had to say it’s ok.

“Don’t you dare.” He hated the weakening tone in your voice, the way your hand slackened; hated how you were making your peace because that wasn’t allowed, not now.

He wanted to stay strong. He didn’t want to break, but hearing your voice like that, so weak and soft, broke something in his chest. Dean pulled you as close as possible, burying his face into the crook of your neck, letting the first sob free from his throat.

He gave in. “Course it’s ok. I’ll be ok, sweet girl, I’ll be ok.”

He felt you let out a breath, but you didn’t take in another one. Your head fell limp against his shoulder, but you didn’t pick it back up. Your hand released his shirt, slid down like it was weighted and never got back up.

Your eyelashes fluttered, closed, but you didn’t open them again.

His whole damn world stopped. He had felt everything, even heard the moment your breath left you, and then nothing. Every good thing, every sweet moment, every stupid laugh and smile and sarcastic comment — it all just stopped.

Dean sat there for a long moment, refusing to believe it, refusing to believe you were gone. He gently laid you as best he could, not letting go as he put his fingers against your throat, trying to find your pulse.

There was nothing, he found nothing, just your cheeks paling, head limply falling sideways, lips parted — stained with blood — one final tear rolling down your cheek.

You were cold.

“No. No.” He couldn’t stop himself from pulling you back into his lap, cradling you to his chest like a broken doll. He wanted to scream, he wanted to cry, he wanted to tear apart the world and everyone in it for letting this happen.

He let out a wretched sob, burying his face into your hair, wanting to feel you just one more time, praying to a god he was never sure existed to bring you, his pretty girl, back to him.

“Come back.” He whispered, his voice cracking, begging. “Please, please, come back to me, just breathe again, give me something— anything.”

He gently gripped your chin, lifting your head up so he could see your face one more time, ignoring the fact that you were so damn still. Just a breath, that’s all he needed, just one damn sign you were still with him, even if it was just for a few seconds.

“I’ll do anything.” He choked out, pressing messy kisses to your face and hair, not caring about the blood — he’d never care less about it, he’d take every damn drop you had left in you. “Sweetheart, just open your eyes, just move for me, please?”

Nothing.

“Please?”

TAGLIST:

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@dob-4-life @marcis-mixtapez @nonoreas0n @gabrielasilva1510

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@all-the-fan-fic @eviekinevie8 @sunflowerlover57

@1-800-dean-winchester

@darichvep @idk-usernme @supernaturalmarvel3000 @ega2025 @deanbrainrotwritings

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@lyarr24 @ximm19

@a-girl-who-loves-disney @jeneelsworld @deans-spinster-witch @deanspinsterwitchs-readinglist @kayleighwinchester

@cheynovak

special tags for my boos: @jasvtsc @deanswidow @beausling @titsout4nicholas @figthoughts

@deansbite

#dean winchester #dean winchester x fem reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester blurb #dean winchester x you #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester imagines #dean imagine #dean winchester angst #dean x female!reader #dean x y/n #dean x reader #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester imagine #dean x you #dean angst #supernatural #supernatural x female reader

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notyourhetloki · 5 months ago

Note

Can I request Wade and Logan/reader breeding kink? 👉👈 both of them too excited about it and competitive? (Can you make reader gender neutral (he/him or they/them or trans ftm (he/him), you can use any terms for genitals and stuff it's ok)

into it (Logan x Reader x Wade)

Reader: he/him (ftm)

/NSFW Logan x Reader x Wade/

A/N: Fuuck I had so much fun writing this, anon! It's a bit short but it's pure porn so I hope you still end up satisfied lol (also sorry about the random gif, I couldn't find a more suiting one lmao). Anyway, hope you like it! xoxo

Tags: ftm reader (reader has a vagina), breeding kink, creampie, they both fuck you, Wade being a fucking joke, Logan is not having it, piv sex (unprotected), porn without plot.

Word Count: 908

—

As soon as you walked through the front door, they were all up in your personal space. Wade and Logan promptly started to take your clothes off, not exactly caring about being gentle.

"Boys! Calm down, there's plenty of me for the both of you!" You tried appeasing, but to no avail.

"And yet is nearly not enough." Groaned Logan, ripping your underwear off with his bare hands. You gasped as his fingers immediately found your sex, rubbing your clit while Wade kissed your neck.

"Sorry about that, doll. We'll buy you another one." Wade whispered into your ear, taking you by the hand and convincing Logan to continue things in the bedroom.

You were basically thrown onto the bed, naked and vulnerable and super turned on. You could already see their hard bulges before they started to take their own clothes off.

"On all fours for us." Ordered Logan, and you gladly obliged. "Attaboy..."

After all their clothes were out, Logan started positioning himself behind you until you heard Wade complain.

"Wait a minute, mutton chops! Why do you think you get to go first?" Wade pointed out.

"Because I can and I will." Logan retorted impatiently, giving your ass a light squeeze.

"Nuh-uh! That ain't fair! I propose a rock-paper-scissors to sort things out, nothing fairer than that." Said Wade holding a closed fist out.

"Fucking hell, fine!" Logan agreed and quickly started the game. They finished the round and Logan played scissors, while Wade played paper.

"Best out of three?" Begged Wade, but the other man didn't care for it.

"Fuck off." Logan pushed Wade aside and started positioning himself again, putting the tip of his cock at your entrance.

You were really wet, so it didn't hurt when he slammed into you. You were full, stuffed to the brim, and you thought it couldn't get any better than that... until Logan began thrusting into you, hitting a sweet spot inside that made you cry out in pleasure.

"Let us hear those sweet sounds you make, boy." Logan said while fucking you. He breathed loudly, grunting and grabbing you at the hips with enough force to bruise. The sounds you made together were obscene, and that turned Wade on even more.

"Gosh... fuck him silly, Wolvie." Wade was jacking himself off, looking closely at Logan's dick in and out of you. "Cum inside him..."

Logan groaned again, more urgent than before. A sudden thought took over him, and he needed to let it out. "I'm gonna breed you, (y/n). I'm gonna fill you up so good... fuck, fill you up with my seed."

"Goddamn!" Said a surprised Wade, not expecting the other man to be so earnest. "That's so fucking dirty... I love it."

"Ah, yes! Please..." You moaned, feeling energy and heat through your whole body. You were being used by him, your body only an object... it turned you on so damn much.

Logan's thrusts began to get even more rough, he was fucking you hard and the sounds he made were animalistic. Soon he turned erratic, his hips faltering in the rhythm he had set. You knew he was close.

He came with a loud grunt, holding you for dear life. Breathing deeply through his gritted teeth, Logan recovered and slowly took his member out of you. A bit of cum dripped from your entrance, and Wade observed everything with a delighted expression.

"I bet I can cum even more in his pussy..." He whispered mostly to himself, but you both heard him.

"You wanna bet, bub?" Said Logan with a satisfied smile on his face. What doesn't a good fuck does to one man's humor?

"Hell yeah, peanut." Wade soon replaced the other man's position and unlike Logan, asked for your approval. "You alright, gorgeous?"

"Y-Yeah... please, give it to me." You moaned as you felt his cock entering you, stuffing you up again.

Wade was a bit gentler with his hands, grabbing you thoughtfully at the places you weren't bruised. But his rhythm... he was still a beast.

"Fuuuck, you feel so good, pretty boy." He moaned, not stopping for a second.

"Hmm, Wade... Logan... ah!" You couldn't stop making noises and calling out for them, dumb with the feeling of being full.

"Good job, sugar... you're being so good for us." Said Logan while standing beside you, watching as Wade pounded into you with great enthusiasm.

"Shit, I'm close... I'll cum inside your pretty cunt, (y/n)." Wade gripped you even harder and finally slammed his hips into you, his climax followed by a deep moan.

He took a few breaths and slowly came back to earth, removing himself from you with a pop. Even more cum oozed from inside you, a beautiful and sexy sight for the both of them.

"As my partner here mentioned earlier... consider yourself 'bred'." Wade taunted, giving a final slap on your ass and retreating himself to put an arm over Logan's shoulder. "Sooo... about that bet, what is my prize?"

You laughed as you laid on your back to watch them both, exhausted but completely satisfied.

Logan suddenly grabbed Wade by his balls, looking him in the eyes. "You get to keep all of your blood inside your body today, sounds good?"

Wade responded in a higher octave, nodding his head and still holding Logan's shoulders. "Ouchie! So rough!" Logan let him go, but Wade only got closer. "You're lucky I'm into it."

—

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mrsshabana · 7 months ago

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Modern/after all odds Gyutaro definitely did it on the motorcycle despite the risk in being a secluded alleyway or smth since someone was needy and impatient. Gyutaro would have it on or even rev it up sitting backwards while having y/n ride him. The hypersexual thoughts have lead me to a wild imagination once again 😞 Also can I be the 🍰 anon if its not already claimed? ^^

𝐀𝐀𝐎 𝐆𝐲𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨 𝐱 𝐅!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ⋆ 𝐌𝐨𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐲𝐜𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐱

꒦꒷‧₊ Content Gyutaro x female!reader, 18+ MDNI, Against All Odds au, public sex, vaginal sex, creampie (if you aren't familiar with my Against All Odds fic, it's an au where demons live amongst humans in a modern au. And all of the kny demons go to university with reader.) ꒦꒷‧₊ Note I decided to write about AAO Gyutaro since I really miss writing that au! And of course, you can be the 🍰 anon if you'd like. Sorry for answering this so late btw. I've been working on other things lately but I was in the mood to write something quick today so I hope you all enjoy it. ♡

"That fucking student council meeting took so long, what the hell were you guys talking about anyways?" Gyutaro growls as he parks his bike behind the science building.

"Douma couldn't decide what color banners we needed for the festival this weekend," you giggle, watching your boyfriend's face contort in annoyance.

"Idiot," he rolls his eyes and turns off his bike, "Making me wait so damn long..."

You look around, confused as to why he is stopping behind the science building on campus. "Um Gyu, why are you stopping here?"

He flips around so he can face you and begins to unbutton his pants, "Cuz I'm gonna fuck you."

'WHAT!?" You yelp, and Gyutaro immediately covers your mouth with his hand.

"Shut it!" he snarls, "I've been so horny all goddamn day ever since you put on that stupid skirt this morning. And now since you made me wait so long, I don't have any other choice but to fuck you right here."

He smirks and pulls his pants down just enough for his cock to spring free, already incredibly hard. The large vein that runs down the side of it already popping out, that's how you know he's been hard for quite a while.

"B-Babe I-," you start but he cuts you off.

"Shh, it's ok. The sun's already gone down so no one will see us. I promise..."

He bites his lip and pulls you in for a kiss. His other hand goes under your skirt, slipping into your panties to feel you've already started to get wet. But how can you not when seeing him so hot and bothered for you?

Pleased by this, he groans and pulls you into his lap. Slowly bucking his hips, gliding his cock along your slick panties.

"Gyu..." you whimper, "maybe we should move off the bike. I wouldn't want it to fall over..."

"Typical human, always worrying," he smiles, showing off his sharp teeth, "It won't fall over, I promise. My feet are on the ground so I can balance it while you ride me."

"R-ride you?" your entire face goes red. Usually, your boyfriend is on top, taking control and plunging into you aggressively is his favorite way to have sex. So it isn't often that he asks you to be on top, but you can't deny that you enjoy doing it. And he does too, it's just that most days he can't stop himself from fucking you silly. But today he doesn't have much choice.

"C'mon baby, you can handle it right?" He smirks mischievously as if challenging you.

"Of course I can!"

"I dunno... maybe you're too weak to take it. I mean you are just a pathetic human after all," he teases.

You furrow your brows, determined to prove him wrong. So you lift your hips, move your panties to the side, and gently lower yourself onto him.

"F-fuck," a breathy moan leaves his lips as he sinks into you and bottoms out.

"That shut you up, huh?" you tease back as you begin riding him.

He can't deny that you took his breath away, he didn't expect you to take control like you did. His nails dig into your thighs as you pick up the pace. Moaning loudly as you bounce on his lap, squelching sounds filling the air as his thick shaft splits you apart.

"C-C'mon babe ah, if you k-keep movin' like that I'm gonna cum too soon," he clenches his teeth and tries to hold back his moans.

"I don't want us to get caught," you gasp, "Ngh- you do want to cum in me don't you?"

"C-course I do," a needy moan escapes him. He moves his hands to your hips and begins to move you up and down, assisting you in your motion.

You lean forward until his cockhead slams into your sweet spot, "Ah- right there!" Your eyes roll to the back of your head as the mess between your legs spreads all over your thighs.

Your legs are beginning to feel sore but you're too determined to chase your high to even care. Moving faster and faster despite the pain and your thighs trembling.

Usually, your boyfriend would take over at this point but he's too high on cloud nine to pay attention to anything but the way your slick walls wrap around him and squeeze him so tightly. Making it impossible for him to hold back any longer.

And with a strained groan, his nails dig into your skin, his cock twitches inside of you, and he leans back - accidentally revving his bike. But he's too busy filling you with his seed to even care.

Wanting to make sure he got his cum as deep as possible he tightly grabs your hips and thrusts up into you. Creating an absolute mess. A combination of his cum and your slick splattering all over your skirt and the seat of his bike.

You were already getting so close, but now the breeding instinct of your demon boyfriend brings you over the edge. Your walls tightening around him as your desperate moans fill the air.

Gyutaro smirks, pleased with himself as you slump over onto him. Feeling your body shake uncontrollably, he feels satisfied.

"That's it baby," he whispers as he gently kisses the side of your face, "You did so good for me."

"We should do this again sometime..." you whimper and nuzzle against him.

He smirks, "Hell yeah, but let's get you home and cleaned up for now."

He ignores the mess on his bike and pulls his pants up. Then he turns, positions himself properly, and shifts his bike back into drive.

"You good back there?" he shouts, making sure you're holding on tightly.

"Mm hm," you nod, wrapping your arms around him and leaning your head on his back.

"Y'know, maybe we could do this every week after your student council meetings," he snickers as he revs the engine.

#gyutaro #gyutaro shabana #gyutaro x reader #gyutaro x y/n #aao #gyutaro smut #gyuutarou #gyuutarou x reader #demon slayer smut #kny smut #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader

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thagomizersshow · 1 year ago

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Apes are a kind of monkey, and that's ok

This is a pet peeve of mine in sci comm ESPECIALLY because many well respected scientific institutions are insistent about apes and monkeys being separate things, despite how it's been established for nearly a century that apes are just a specific kind of monkey.

Nearly every zoo I've visited that houses apes has a sign somewhere like the one below that explains the supposed distinction between the two groups, focusing on anatomy instead of phylogeny.

(Every time I see a graphic like this I age ten years) Movies even do this, especially when they want to sound credible. Take this scene from Rise of the Planet of the Apes:

This guy Franklin is presented as the authority on apes in this scene, and he treats James Franco calling a chimpanzee a monkey like it's insulting.

But when you actually look at a primate family tree, you can see that apes are on the same branch as Old World monkeys, while New World monkeys branched off much earlier.

(I'm assuming bushbabies are included as "lorises" here?)

To put it simply, that means you and I are more closely related to a baboon than a baboon is to a capuchin.

Either the definition of monkey includes apes OR we can keep using an anatomical definition and Barbary macaques get to be an ape because they're tailless.

"I've got no tails on me!"

Why did all this happen? Why did we start insisting apes are monkeys, especially considering the two words were pretty much interchangeable for centuries? Well I've got one word for ya...

This the attitude that puts humans on a pedestal over other life on Earth. That there are intrinsically important features of humanity, and other living things are simply stepping stones in that direction.

At the dawn of evolutionary study, anthropocentrism was enforced by using a model called evolutionary grades. And boy howdy do I hate evolutionary grades.

Basically, a grade is a way of defining a group of animals by using anatomical "complexity". It's the idea that evolution has milestones of importance that, once reached, makes an organism into a new kind of thing. You can almost think of it like evolutionary levels. An animal "levels up" once it gains a certain trait deemed "complex".

You can probably see the issue here; that complexity is an ephemeral idea defined through subjectivity, rather than based off anything truly observable. What makes walking on 2 legs more complex than walking on four? How are tails less complex than no tails? "Complexity" in this context is unmeasurable, therefore it is unscientific. That's why evolutionary grades suck and I never want to look at one.

For primates, this meant once some of them lost their tails, grew bigger brains, and started brachiating instead of leaping, they simply "leveled up" and became apes. Despite the early recognition that apes were simply a branch of the Old World monkey family tree (1785!), the idea of grades took precedent over the phylogenetic link.

In the early years of primatology, humans were even seen as a grade "above" apes, related but separated by our upright stance and supposed far greater intelligence (this was before other apes were recognized tool users).

It wasn't until the goddamn 1970s that it was recognized all great apes should be included in the clade Hominidae alongside humanity. This was a major shift in thinking, and required not just science, but the public, to recognize just how close we are to other living species. It seems like this change has, thankfully, happened and most institutions and science respecting folks have accepted this fact. Those who don't accept it tend to have a lot more issues with science than only accepting humans as apes.

And now, we come to the current problem. Why is there a persistent idea that monkeys and apes are separate?

I want to make it clear I don't believe there was a conscious movement at play here. I think there's a lot of things going on, but there isn't some anti-monkey lobby that is hiding the truth. I think the problem is more complicated and deals with how human brains and human culture often struggle to do too many changes at once.

Now, I haven't seen any studies on this topic, so everything I say going forward is based on my own experience of how people react to learning apes (and therefore, humans) are monkeys.

First off, there is a lot of mental rearranging you have to do to accept humans as monkeys. First you, gotta accept humans as apes, then you have to stop thinking in grades and look at the family tree. Then you have to accept that apes are on the Old World monkey branch, separate from the New World monkeys.

That's a lot of steps, and I've seen science-minded zoo educators struggle with that much mental rearranging. And even while they accept this to an extent, they often find it even harder to communicate these ideas to the public.

I think this is a big reason why zoos and museums often push this idea the hardest. Convincing the public humans are apes is already a challenge, teaching them that all apes are monkeys at the same time might seem impossible.

I believe the other big reason people cling to the "apes-aren't-monkeys" idea is that it still allows for that extra bit of comforting anthropocentrism. Think of it this way; anthropocentrism puts humans on a pedestal. When you learn that humans are apes, you can either remove the pedestal and place humans with other animals, OR, you can place the apes up on the pedestal with humanity. For those that have an anthropocentric worldview, it can actually be easier to "uplift" the apes than ditch the pedestal.

Too make things worse, monkeys are such a symbol of a "primitive" animal nature that many can't accept raising them to the "level" of humanity, but removing the pedestal altogether is equally painful. So they hold tight to an outdated idea despite all the evidence. This is why there's often offense taken when an ape is called a monkey. It's tantamount to someone calling you a monkey, and that's too much of a challenge to anthropocentrism.

Personally, I think recognizing myself as a monkey is wonderful. Non-ape monkeys are as "complex" as any ape. They make tools, they have dynamic social groups, they're adapted to a wide range of environments, AND they have the best hair of all primates.

I think we should be honored to be considered one of them.

#primatology #primates #phylogeny #sci comm #monkeys #apes

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red-doll-face · 7 days ago

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Imagine reader playing with Arthur's hair while he grumbles and pretends he's not totally into it >>>>>>>>😭🙏 But when you actually stop he's like 😳😞

that sounds so cute, i would love to run my fingers through his hair!!! 💖💖💖🥹🥹🥹 i wanted to do something short but writing for arthur always seems to run away from me, idkkk whyyyy i can never do anything bite sized with this man i stg. 😔😳😭😭😭 idk i guess small just doesnt cut it when it comes to this man 😏 i sort of took this as a request so i hope im not doing too much LMAO beware: sweetie weenie boy arthur...veryyyy fluffffy

Arthur doesn't like his hair as long as you like it but he can put it aside for you.

(high honor) Arthur Morgan x fem. reader

You had always thought Arthur’s hair looked nice, just a little bit longer than he preferred. Ok, maybe a lot longer than he preferred it but you couldn't help but like the way the strands fell in his pretty blue eyes, watching his big hands and fingers push it back over his head. His little frustrated huff when it inevitably slips back to feathering over the sides of his face was all too cute. You liked the way the sun caught the more blond strands; turned them a bright gold. You know the big scary outlaw, Arthur Morgan would never use the word beautiful to describe himself but you could use that word for him every day of every week.

And he doesn't always intend to grow it as long as he does, he runs out of time to get anything done about it, much preferring to return to your little corner of camp to rest with you sooner than stop in town. He’d rather come back to you, to get to lay his eyes on you than to spend another moment away from the sweet kiss you give him when he rejoins you.

Of course, he was as strong as a draft horse. Arthur could handle just about anything thrown at him. But Dutch had a way of running him ragged. When it wasn’t Dutch, it was the other camp members and when it wasn’t them, it was himself. The pressure to be everywhere, to do everything; it crushed his shoulders down. You did what you could to help. It's why you so thoroughly enjoyed these quiet moments, just you and him in the cool evenings.

“...Look at all this. Honey, I need a goddamned haircut,” he’d say, standing in front of the little mirror where he shaved his scruff after it grew too bushy. You sit on his bed, pouting at him. He stands with his hands gripping the edge of the barrel, turning to the left and the right. The way his hair bounced around made you giggle.

“But-”

“Yeah, you like it, I remember,” He sighs.

“I do, Arthur. I just think you look very handsome with your hair like that,” You look at his hair and then your eyes wander to his strong forearms gripping the lip of the barrel. You had found Arthur to be eye-catching the day that you met him. And his personality only bolstered how much you liked him. He could play at gruff simpleton brute but he had more sense and wit than most of the other men combined. He was more soft than he wanted to admit too, but he showed those pieces of himself to you. His vulnerabilities he liked to keep to himself; now he shares with you.

“Right. You keep on tellin’ your beautiful lies; I might just start believin’ you,” He chuckles at the word ‘handsome’. You make a face at his self deprecating attitude. How he makes jokes of himself to keep his insecurities from seeming like they're bigger than they are. But the corners of his mouth always tug downwards when he’s looking in the mirror, even when he only intended to look at his hair or at his beard.

“Arthur, I’m not lying. Come here?” You’re more siren-like than you realize; your beckon makes him turn, huffing a little. As if he knows he’s in some degree of trouble. The little disappointed frown you have is something he can’t help but look away from. Arthur leans away from the barrel and steps closer to you. He reaches for his hat that sits on the table at his bedside but you stop him, a gentle hand over the top of his.

Your hand tugs him closer and he allows you to guide him. You squeeze his palm, those hard working hands, rough from all that he does with them.

He lets himself relax, which he rarely does, he’s always doing something or on his way there. But you love to hold him in your arms. To make him stay still with you for awhile.

He sits and the sweet kiss he gives you makes you light up. But you motion to have him lay over you while you play with his hair, even if you can tell he wants to keep giving you kisses. His head is in your lap while he uses your plush thighs as pillows. He’s a bit stiff, as if unwillingly and begrudgingly doing as you say. His brow still crinkles a bit, some of the lines on his face from pulling grimaces are creased. You lift the strands upwards to marvel at how long they are.

“Too damn long,”

“No, never,” you coo at him through his faux displeasure.

“Never? You’re kiddin’ me, sweetheart. Only you could want a man with hair down to his ass,” you laugh, rolling your eyes. You miss how he softens even more at your laugh, he liked that you found his jokes funny or at the very least, silly enough to warrant such a reaction.

“Ok, ok, you can get it cut, but maybe not so short on the sides? I like when it’s long here,” You look down at his eyes, petting the loose locks he usually wants to cut a bit shorter to keep hair off of his neck.

“I’ll think on it; it’s still on my head, ain’t it?”

You giggle humming contentedly as you continue rubbing his hair in your fingers. He relaxes more even as he continues to murmur about how much he can’t wait to watch it all get chopped off at the barber in town. You shake your head, feeling him go soft from his usual intensity.

Your nails lightly scratch against his scalp, your fingers pet his hair this way and that. Then you transition to what you know he likes, a repetitive soothing motion through the locks of his hair. The way the small furrow just over his nose bridge flattens out makes you smile. You can see his hands stop fussing, his lungs fill with a deep breath and puff it out slowly. He props one leg over his bed and the other hangs down to the floor. And he might grumble but those turn into simple rumbles of soft pleasure. You watch the tension leak from him, his usual stiffness weakening.

You’re pretty sure you can lull him to sleep like this, the rhythmic stroking over his hair and scalp like a lullaby. You comb his hair backwards, his thick hair is tangled in some places and you help work through it gently. When you feel you’ve perhaps messed with his hair enough, you remove your hands. One of his eyes slips open from where he had both closed in a sleepy gesture; revealing that gem toned hue. He looks grumpier than when you started, perhaps a little disgruntled.

“What?” you ask, knowing he misses the sensation of your fingers fiddling around in his hair. “Thought you didn’t like me ruffling your feathers,” you tousle it a little. The teasing in your voice is prominent when you smile down at his small scowl, no real bite behind his bark.

He seems to flush a little bit, you can appreciate the way his blushes crawl up his face, he can never hide how you make him feel. His artificial glare melts away.

“It should be you, I guess- ya know, rufflin’ my feathers,” his sentimental tone brings him out of his element, showing his nerves around you. Not so steadfast now. You smile warmly and shyly as well, touched by his genuine feelings, the ones he told you just as bashfully that he harbored for you.

I LOVE HIM SO MUCH HE CAN DO NO WRONG 😍💓🫂😭😳🥰 thank you for reading !!

#red writes #arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 x reader #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption 2 x reader #high honor arthur morgan #arthur morgan x fem reader #arthur morgan x female reader #fluff #high honor arthur morgan x reader

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ecemf · 22 days ago

Text

And the Award Goes To... // A Carmen Berzatto Fanfic

18+!! MDNI!!

A/N: When this year started I definitely did not foresee myself writing not only one but two depraved fanfics both about hooking up in award ceremony bathrooms... but here we are.

This one actually took so long and I don't even really know if I like it but I hope y'all enjoy it. Big cheating vibes so if you're not into that don't read. Ok thanks bye!

Summary: As a writer for Vogue, you've been assigned to cover The James Beard Awards this year. This would be great, as your boyfriend is a nominee, if it weren't for the fact that your toxic ex was also nominated for the same goddamn award...

Warnings: cheating, smut, unprotected piv (wrap it before you tap it guys), choking, dom/sub dynamics, bit of degradation, porn with lots of plot, asshole boyfriend, asshole carmy, no usage of y/n

WC: ~5.8k

Enjoy!!

Nerves. That’s all you’ve been feeling this entire week.

When your boss had told you in October that you were assigned to cover the James Beard Awards you were elated. Partially because, you know, it was the goddamn James Beard Awards, but mostly because it would be your first major story at Vogue. You had been a writer for their Food column for a few months at that point, and while it wasn’t exactly as you had imagined it while writing it over and over in your manifestation journal, it wasn’t bad, and you were sure you could work your way up. This story was a chance for you to do so, so why would you pass it up?

What you didn’t know when you accepted the assignment weeks before the nominations came out, was that your new boyfriend, Alex Moore, would be nominated for Best Chef in the Midwest. This wouldn’t have been a problem- in fact quite the opposite -if it weren’t for the fact that your toxic ex who you hadn’t seen in ages was nominated for The Same. Damn. Award.

Now it’s May, and the dreaded day has arrived. You finish applying your vampy lipstick with a shaky hand as you hear Alex yell for you from downstairs. You two have been together for about 10 months now, and it’s been great. Alex is good; he’s stable. Sure he’s a bit egotistical and barely has any free time, but he’s a chef, aren’t they all that way? Alex talks about the future with you, he always calls when he’s tied up at the restaurant, he tells you he loves you.

He’s nothing like your ex, which is a good thing. You think. You love him. You think.

You rush down the stairs with your red Louboutins click-clacking on each wooden step. The shoes had been a six-month anniversary gift from Alex, who apparently didn’t know that anniversary means year. Your boyfriend came from old money which he loved to throw around, especially when it came to spoiling you. He had also purchased the dress you were wearing that night. It wasn’t something you would pick out, but it was nice. Simple and sexy without showing much skin.

“Finally,” he sighs, seeing you make it to the bottom of the stairs, “You look great in that dress. Shoes are a nice touch.”

“Thanks baby,” you say, approaching him where he stands by the counter, “You look hot,”

You go to give him a kiss but he puts his hand up before your lips can reach him, “Hey! Watch it!” He scolds, “I don’t want red lipstick marks all over me when I accept my award tonight, so you’re gonna have to keep it in your pants, nympho,”

You roll your eyes at the nickname, one that he gave you a few weeks into living together. Alex thinks it’s crazy that you want to have sex once (if not maybe two or three times) a day. He’s nothing like your ex.

—

When you arrive at the awards ceremony, your heart is racing. You had been squeezing Alex’s hand like a lifeline the entire ride there; he chalked it up to you being nervous about the work aspect of tonight.

You weave through people hand-in-hand with your boyfriend, saying hello to those you recognized, being introduced to those you didn’t. Currently, you were becoming acquainted with the sommelier from some new fusion place. Alex knew him from college. Or from when he did his training in Belgium? You aren't sure, you weren’t really listening. The only thing you’re focused on tonight is avoiding a very specific nominee. You hope you don’t seem too distracted in this (very boring) conversation.

“I’m gonna go find our seats,” you say to Alex, excusing yourself from the hellish small-talk, “It was great to meet you,” you say to- actually, you never caught her name.

As you saunter through the rows of tables, scanning each place card for you and your lover’s names, you try to calm yourself down. “No sign of him yet,” you think, “Maybe he won’t even come. That would be just like him, not showing up.”

Finally, you find the place card reading “Alex Moore”, but when you look at the table setting next to it, it’s empty. You glance around the table- maybe it blew off the plate? As you scan the surrounding area, you grow a bit concerned. Did they forget to put your name out? Were you even supposed to be there? You had no trouble getting in at the door, but-

“Looking for this?”

You freeze. Of fucking course he found your seat before you could.

You turn on your stiletto to see no one other than your ex-boyfriend, Carmen Berzatto, Executive Chef of The Bear. He stares back at you with your place card between his two fingers like a cigarette. Fitting.

“Please give that back,” you say, doing your best to seem unfazed by his presence.

“Wow,” he responds in mock-offense, “That’s the hello I get after all this time? C’mon, Jig,”

You wince at the nickname. You and Carmen had met while you were bartending in college. He was a regular at your bar, and you were a bright-eyed bushy-tailed 21-year-old hoping to make it as a food writer in the big city. You two bonded over your love of food, and would trade recommendations back and forth for different spots around town. You were the only bartender out of the whole staff who used a jigger (was no one else worried about their ratios??), so before he knew your name he would just call you Jigger, which then got shortened to Jig. Even after he finally asked for your name (and number), and even throughout your 3-year relationship (if you could even call it that), he still called you Jig more than your actual name.

“Hello Carmen,” you reply with a tight smile, extending your hand, “May I please have my place card for my seat?” You ask again.

As he opens his mouth to respond, you hear Alex calling out for you, “Babe!” He quickly walks over to where you and Carmen stand, “Hey, you found our seats?” He turns to look at Carmen, “Hey man, good to see you!” He embraces the chef, and takes a step back, looking at the place card in his hand, “Why do you have my girlfriend’s name in your hand?”

You panic. “Ummm… Carmen here found it on the ground, and he was kind enough to pick it up and come find me with it,” You (not so kindly) snatch the white paper out from between his fingers, “thank you again,” You hope your tone makes it clear that you want him to walk away.

“Find you…” Alex looks between the two of you, obviously confused, “Sorry, do you two know each other?” Shit.

Carmen looks at you, amused. You didn’t tell your boyfriend about him.

“Yeah!” You say, a little too enthusiastically, “Um yeah! I erm, I interviewed Carmen about The Bear for that article a few months back, remember honey?”

Alex looks back at you and thinks for a second. “Oh right, I remember that article,”

You never wrote an article about The Bear.

“And how could I forget such a face,” Carmen chimes in. You try to give him a warning with your eyes, and he seems to receive it when he says, “Well, it’s good to see you both, I should go find my place card this time. Good luck out there tonight, Alex,” He pats your boyfriend on the bicep.

“Hey, you too, man,” Alex responds, grinning. As Carmen walks away, he leans down to you and whispers not-so-discreetly, “He’ll need it,”

You try to ignore the comment as the two of you sit down. Your boyfriend was a good chef, a great chef even, but Carmen was better. When you read through the nominations all those months ago, you knew he would win tonight. As someone who had watched the man in his element, there was no doubt in your mind: Carmen would take home the award.

As people continue to mingle and find their seats, you take a glance around the room. The reception hall was huge, there had to be at least a thousand people in the building. Which is why it’s so painfully ironic that Carmen’s seat is in direct eye-line with yours. As you continue to survey your surroundings, his icy blue eyes meet yours. He was staring at you with a familiar look in his eye, and you try to ignore the knots it was tying your stomach into. You quickly look away, turning your attention back to Alex. He turns to look at you, and you go to give him a quick peck, forgetting your conversation from earlier. He once again stops you, rearing his head back to avoid your lips (or your lipstick, rather, so he claims).

“Sorry, I forgot,” you say dejectedly to your boyfriend, who looks at you like you just tried to stab him, “I’m gonna run to the bathroom really quickly before they get started,” you tell him, touching his arm.

“Okay, my speech won’t be until later in the ceremony, so no rush babe,” your ever so confident man responds.

You grab your purse as you head out of the large room, searching for the bathroom. You wish you could find an usher…

“Looking for the restroom?” Asks a young man in a suit. You nod. “It’s-“

“I can show her,” you hear from behind you as someone takes your arm, and before you know it, Carmen is leading you down the hall.

You quickly pull back from him, “Would you leave me alone?” You say quietly, hoping no one is watching or hearing this, “I am trying to work and enjoy my night, okay? You should do the same,” you start down the hallway again, alone this time.

“Alright…” Carmen says behind you, “the bathroom isn’t that way, just so you know.”

You stop, and turn to face him again, “So then where the fuck were you taking me?” You ask, exasperated.

“Well, if you would let me show you…” Carmen looks at you expectantly.

You stare back at him silently, and finally allow yourself to actually look at him. He looks good. Like, really good. Carmen never dresses up, but when he does, good lord he’s a sight for sore eyes. You indulge, ogling at the way his black dress shirt sits taught against his strong chest. Even under the thick suit he has on, you can see his strong arms. Those arms that used to hold you, throw you around, flip you over, help you bounce up and down on-

“My eyes are up here, y’know,” Carmen says sarcastically, obviously noticing what you were doing.

You ignore his comment and his noticing, “if I follow you to this mystery place will you leave me alone tonight?”

“Is that really what you want?” Carmen responds with a certain edge to his voice. An edge you recognize. An edge you miss.

You gulp. “Yes,” you say quietly.

“You were always a bad liar,” Carmen mutters, walking past you down the hall, “c’mon, Jig,” he says for the second time tonight.

—

After a few more hallways and a flight of stairs, you and Carmen arrive on the roof of the building. As soon as you’re outside, the blonde pulls out a pack of cigarettes, silently offering you one as his hangs out of his mouth.

“No thanks, I quit,” you say, putting your hand up.

“Well look at you, changed woman,” He jokes as he lights his cigarette, “Old Money Moore wasn’t into it?”

You roll your eyes at the jab at your boyfriend, “For your information, I quit before me and Alex even met,” you look down at your shoes and shiver a bit in the evening air, “why are we up here, Carmen?”

“Will you stop calling me that?”

“Stop calling you your name?”

“Yeah, it’s weird. You never used to call me that,” he takes another drag of his cigarette, “I mean, unless we were fighting,”

“So most of the time, actually,” You respond, humorlessly.

“Did we spend most of our time fighting?” The man looks you up and down as he continues to smoke, “As I recall we spent most of our time fucking,” he exhales.

You bring your fingers to your temples, “Oh my God, get to the point,” you glance down at your phone, “the ceremony’s going to start soon, and I really don’t want to miss anything,” you say. And you mean it - you have a goddamn article to write!

“Is he gay?” Carmen smirks at you.

“W- what? Is who gay? What are you talking about?”

“Your ‘boyfriend’,” he makes air-quotes around the word, “Alex, is he gay?”

You have half a mind to just turn around and head back to the ceremony, but you don’t. You’re not sure why. Yes you are.

“Firstly, he is my boyfriend. No need for the air quotes, asshole,” You start, annoyed that you’re even having this stupid conversation, “secondly, no, he is not gay. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m a woman, and we’re in a relationship, so,”

“Oh I’ve noticed,” Carmen says, raking his eyes up and down your body, “I was just asking because I watched him refuse to kiss you earlier,” he throws his cigarette on the concrete ground, stubbing it out with his foot, “and any man who refuses to kiss a woman who looks like you, well, I just have to assume he probably isn’t into women,”

Your face goes hot. Half from the embarrassment, half from arousal. Boy was he laying it on thick. You clear your throat and meet his eyes, which you had been avoiding doing since the two of you got alone.

“Not that it’s really any of your business,” you start, narrowing your eyes at Carmen, “but he asked me not to kiss him so that I wouldn’t get lipstick on him for when he-“ you cut yourself off, realizing how ridiculous it sounds out loud.

Carmen chuckles, staring into your soul. You avert your eyes.

“When he what, baby?” He asks, coyly.

“Don’t call me that,” you say sternly. Or at least try to.

Carmen starts walking towards you, slowly. He backs you up against the wall behind you until there’s only a few inches of space between the two of you. You still avoid meeting his eyes.

“Jig, look at me,” he says quietly, and you obey, finally locking eyes with him. He moves even closer to you and puts his hand on the wall above you, caging you in, “he doesn’t want your lipstick on him for when he does what?” Your faces are so close he’s almost whispering. God, you wish he would leave you alone. No you don’t.

“For when he wins the award tonight…” you say, barely loud enough for Carmen to hear. But he obviously does, as he hangs his head and laughs. The tops of his curls nearly touch your nose. You stare up at the sky again, half from embarrassment, half from arousal. He was so goddamn close. You could smell him.

He lifts his head, still chuckling a bit, “that dumbass thinks he’s going to win the award tonight?” He asks you in disbelief, “like seriously?”

You knew Carmen would win the award, there was no doubt about it, but he was being a major asshole. A sexy asshole, but it was a bit much.

“Carmy-” You go to tell him it wouldn’t be impossible for Alex to win, but you freeze when the nickname slips out of your mouth. He smiles devilishly at you.

“There it is,” he says with that shit-eating grin on his face, “say it again,” he whispers, getting his mouth dangerously close to yours.

“Stop it,” you whisper back. His nose nudges yours and you turn your head to the side.

“What’s my name baby?” Carmy murmurs as he ghosts his lips up and down your neck, “Say it again, sweet girl,” he pulls the neckline of your dress to the side and bites down.

“Carmy,” You whine. You grip his shirt, trying to find something to ground you as your ex-boyfriend sucks a mark into your collarbone, “please, I can’t,”

“But you want to,” he smirks as he continues kissing your neck, your insides becoming molten lava, “Alex doesn’t need to worry about your lipstick on his face, baby. You know why?” He pulls back and looks you in your eyes, already glazed-over and needy, “because I’m gonna win that goddamn award,” he grips your waist as he pulls you tightly to him and whispers in your ear, “and then I’m gonna fuck his girlfriend while I wear it.”

You try to catch your breath as he releases you and your back hits the wall. Carmen takes his thumb and runs it over your bottom lip. You think he’s going to put it in your mouth, but he just wipes a bit of the lipstick off of it. You watch in lustful amazement as he then takes the red pigment and rubs it on his neck underneath his collar. He pushes off the wall and without a word leaves you standing up on the roof, alone, soaking through your underwear.

—

“Jeez, did you fall in?” Alex says quietly as you shimmy into your seat. You had missed the beginning of the ceremony. “Are you feeling okay? You look a bit flushed,” he rests a hand on your thigh and you give him a small smile.

“Yeah, sorry, you know women’s bathroom lines…” you say through tight lips, hoping he doesn’t ask any more questions.

Your prayers are answered when your boyfriend simply nods and turns back to the presenters. You turn to see Carmy staring holes through you, with that stupid goddamn smirk on his face. You take a deep breath and try to return your attention to the stage.

—

You sit through a handful of awards and speeches, and finally it comes to the “Best Chef” section of the night. Up first: Midwest. AKA: Your Boyfriend vs. Your Ex. Your heart races as you watch the presenter give a speech about the award and the nominees. He reads off all of the names of the nominees, and your palms sweat as you rest a hand on Alex’s shoulder.

The room is quiet as the announcer says, “And the James Beard Award goes to…”

You inhale.

“…Carmen Berzatto of The Bear!”

You exhale.

Alex curses under his breath and clenches his fists. You try to rub his back but for the third time tonight, he pushes you away. You sit quietly with your hands in your lap as Carmen takes the stage. God, why does he look so good even in stage lighting?

Carmen walks up to the microphone after having the medal placed on him by the presenter.

“Wow. Um, I’d like to thank my team first and foremost, I wouldn’t be able to achieve anything without them. I’d erm, I’d like to specifically thank Sydney Adamu, my sous chef and partner. She really should be the one up here, but I guess I’ll take it,” The crowd laughs along with him, “I’m really grateful for this award and anyone who’s ever eaten at The Bear. Thank you.” He looks dead into your eyes and grabs the medal as he ends his speech, “I can’t wait to wear this thing!”

Everyone laughs except for you, whose face goes beet red. Luckily the lights are dim enough for it not to be an issue, but you can hear the blood pumping in your ears. You turn your attention back to Alex, whose ears had apparently had steam coming out of them for the past two minutes.

“I can’t fucking believe this,” he mutters, “that was supposed to be my award. After all the fucking money my parents donated to this foundation? What a joke.”

You pretend you don’t hear your boyfriend whining like a spoiled brat, “Are you okay?” You ask sweetly, “It’s just an award baby, it doesn’t really mean anything,” you try to replace your hand on his shoulder but he swats it away. Hard.

“Jesus can you not touch me for like five fucking seconds?” He says, pretty loudly, considering they’re in the middle of presenting the Best Chef Northeast award. You look up to see if anyone heard and see Carmy coming down the steps of the stage, clenching his jaw as he watches the interaction. You hold your stinging hand and excuse yourself to the restroom before your tears of anger can spill over.

As you stand in the mirror, dabbing your eyes before any more tears can fall, you hear the bathroom door creak open and the deadbolt turn. Behind you in the mirror appears who else but Carmen fucking Berzatto, wearing that stupid fucking James Beard Award. You stare at him through the mirror, silently.

“Well, aren’t you gonna congratulate me?” He says, walking towards you. You turn around to face him, “C’mon, Jig, nothing?”

You stare at Carmen. You watch the way he stares back. All of today’s events race through your head. All the times your boyfriend rejected you, dismissed you, ignored you. Those moments on the roof, the adrenaline you felt, Carmy’s words ringing through your mind.

“and then I’m gonna fuck his girlfriend while I wear it.”

You reach out and grab the medal on his chest and use it to pull him into you. It’s intense off the bat, a mix of teeth tongue and lips, hands frantically grasping at each other. Carmy grips your neck and your waist as you lace your fingers through his curls and give a tug that earns you a soft moan. You begin kissing down his neck, leaving dark red lipstick marks all over. You push his sport coat off his shoulders and begin undoing the buttons at the top of his shirt.

“Eager, are we?” Carmen teases, helping you in removing his shirt.

“Just shut up and fuck me, Bear,” you respond, bringing his mouth back to yours.

“Mmm,” Carmen pulls away, “what happened to my good girl who used to beg so politely?”

“She only gets fucked once every two weeks so she’s kind of impatient right now,” you say as you continue to place kisses all over Carmy’s upper body and palm at his erection.

“Hold the fuck-“ Carmy pushes you off of him and looks at you with shock on his face, “that asshole only fucks you twice a month??”

You look back at him in all of his glory. His curls messy from your hands, his sculpted form covered in your lipstick marks, his pupils blown, his dick, well, huge. Why did you ever give this up?

“He just doesn’t have a high sex drive he says,” you shrug, putting your hands back onto him, “I don’t really wanna talk right now, Carmy,”

“Does he at least eat you out first?” He looks genuinely perplexed and frightened by this information. How could someone have this masterpiece of a woman under their roof and not be ravaging her at least once a day?

“I asked you to fuck me, not make me laugh, Berzatto,” you deadpan back at the man, “seriously, now you know how much I need this, so please,”

“Oh you need it bad, baby,” Carmen says as he turns you around to face the mirror. He begins unzipping your dress ever so slowly, leaving kisses across every inch of your back. You step out of your dress, left only in your matching bra and underwear along with your red Louboutins. “Turn around,” Carmy orders.

You do so. You look at Carmy through your lashes, feeling equally exposed and terrifyingly aroused. The man growls underneath his breath, just staring at you.

“What a fucking idiot,” he says, before picking you up and placing you on the countertop, “doesn’t fucking realize what he has, rich fucking asshole,” Carmy mutters more nasty things about your boyfriend as he pulls your panties down your legs. He smells the soaked fabric before putting them in the pocket of his trousers. He pulls your legs open and groans loudly. “Jesus, baby, is all this for me?” He runs a finger through your soaked folds, collecting some of your arousal which had been building since you first saw him hours ago.

You squirm atop the counter as Carmy just toys with you. He stares at your vagina with amazement, like it’s a piece of art. Finally, he dives in, licking a flat stripe from your entrance to your clit. You gasp loudly. One of your hands flies to grip onto the counter top while the other finds purchase in the golden curls currently perched between your thighs.

It’s just as good as you remember it. That’s the problem, always has been. The sex is so goddamn good. It’s what kept you crawling back every time Carmen would hurt you for 3 long years. You hated your past self for always giving in, but right now, you understood her completely.

Carmy swirled his tongue around your clit as he inserted two thick fingers into your entrance, curling them just right. The stretch was like nothing else. You let out a beautiful noise, causing him to groan into your pussy, the vibrations adding to the delicious stimulation. You clenched around his fingers as he continued his ministrations, feeling that familiar knot tightening in your lower stomach.

“You gonna give me one?” Carmy says, looking up at you with a soaked face and hungry eyes, “You gonna come all over my fingers, baby?”

“Yes, Carmy, yes, oh my god,” you babble, feeling so close, “please don’t stop baby,”

Carmen raises to his feet while continuing to finger you. He pulls you closer to him, leaning into your ear. “Does that feel good, princess?”

As you moan uncontrollably as you muster a “yes feels good,” but you know the questioning won’t end there.

“Yeah baby?” Carmen adds a third finger and you squeal, “how good does it feel?”

“God it feels so good please don’t stop,”

“Who’s making you feel this good, sweet girl?” He continues to whisper into your ear.

“You Carmy, it’s always you,” you respond breathily, the coil in your stomach moments from snapping.

“Say it again,” Carmen growls.

“Carmy oh my god-“ and with that your vision blanks. Your legs shake as you come harder than you have since… well since the last time you fucked Carmy. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as he continues his movements, prolonging your orgasm.

You grip onto his strong shoulders as you come down, resting your forehead against his as he removes his fingers from you.

“Jesus Christ,” you say, as you watch him stick all three fingers into his mouth and suck off your residue. You watch familiarly as he gathers spit in his mouth and grabs your jaw. Knowing the routine, you gladly open your mouth, as he spits in the mixture of the two of you. You moan as you taste yourself mixed with Carmen.

“Swallow,” he demands, holding your throat. And you do. “There’s my good girl,” he says, undoing his belt with one hand, “thought I lost you there, baby,”

You hum contentedly as he continues to hold you by your throat while he pulls his cock out of his pants and boxers. You moan at the sight of the state of it. Veins bulging, tip bright red and leaking, and, well, huge.

Carmen pumps himself a few times before saying, “take your bra off,” letting go of your throat to opt for one of your newly free breasts, “love these fucking tits, god.”

You squeeze your legs together as he strokes himself while playing with your nipples. It’s hot, but you need more. Now.

“Carmy, please,” you said, making your sweetest eyes at him, “I need you so bad,”

“You gonna beg me baby?” He responds with that stupid grin on his face.

“I’ll do anything,” you say, disregarding your pride (and your boyfriend).

“Is that right, angel?” He asks, caressing your face as you nod, lowering his voice, “you’ll do anything for this dick?” He continues stroking it as he looks into your eyes, “you need to get fucked so badly that you’re in here begging me for my cock while your boyfriend’s in the other room. Didn’t realize you were such a slut, baby,”

Your pussy throbs as Carmen continues to taunt you, “yes, I’ll do anything please,” you’re truly so desperate at this point, “please just give me your cock Carmy,”

“Say it,”

“Say what?” You ask, genuinely confused.

“Say you’re my slut,”

You gulp. “I- I’m your slut,”

“And why are you a slut?”

“B-because I’m in here begging for your cock when my boyfriend’s right outside…”

“And why are you begging me for my cock when you have a boyfriend?”

Okay this interrogation was getting old.

“Because it’s so much better, Carmy, please just give me your dick haven’t I been good?”

“You’ve been so good, baby,” Carmy says as he pries open your thighs and buries himself inside of you.

You yelp at the intrusion, not expecting himself to push himself in to the hilt on the first stroke.

Carmen lifts up your right leg and puts it over his shoulder. Then the left. He watches as your tits bounce while you half-lay on the countertop. You watch as his medal bounces on his chest with each thrust. He notices.

“You like that baby?” He asks, snaking a hand down to rub circles on your clit, “you like getting fucked by the best chef in the midwest?”

“Yes Carmy, fuck, just like that,” you moan out, “best dick in the midwest,” you say, somewhat jokingly.

Carmen half-laughs half-growls at the comment, “that’s fucking right, baby, best dick you’ll ever have. That’s why you keep coming back, right? That’s why you’re in here cheating on your stupid fucking boyfriend? Yeah?” With that last comment, he delivers a slap to your clit, causing you to scream and your pussy to clamp down around him.

“Fuck always so tight, princess, always so good for me,” Carmy babbles, getting lost inside of you, “this is my pussy. No one else’s. Say it.”

“It’s- fuck!” You yell as Carmen adjusts his angle, now hitting your G-spot over and over, “It’s your pussy Carmy, fuck! It belongs to you, I belong to you, oh my God don’t stop, please!”

It seems like Carmy misheard you as he stops fucking you and pulls you down off the counter top and kisses you ferociously. He grabs at your ass and you whine at the loss of him inside of you.

“Hold on baby, I’ve got you,” he says against your lips, “just need to do something,” he says, as he lifts off his medal and places it around your neck. You look up at him, confused. “Turn around,” he says, darkly.

You turn around to look at yourself in the mirror. There’s a red mark around your neck from where Carmen was gripping you, your updo from earlier is now mostly down, your chest is littered with small hickies, and between your tits lies a motherfucking James Beard Award.

Carmen pushes on your upper back so that you’re leaning over the counter and re-enters you at a punishing pace. The bathroom is filled with lewd noises of skin slapping skin and moaning. You look up to see Carmen staring at you through the mirror. Except, he’s not looking at your face, he’s staring at your tits. Wait. No. He’s staring at the medal bouncing with your tits.

Carmen looks into your eyes through the mirror, “yeah look at you,” he growls, somehow pushing into you even faster now, “my girl wearing my fucking award. Jesus Christ look at that,” he watches intently as the piece of silver bounces off of your chest with each thrust he delivers, “fuck, who’s the best baby?”

“It’s you, Carmy, you’re the best,” you moan out in response, “you’re the best,”

Carmen reaches around you and grabs the medal, but keeps the ribbon around your neck. He pulls on it just enough that your back arches and your head falls onto his shoulder. The new angle this creates is mind-blowing, and you once again moan all too loudly. Carmen litters kisses and bites along the shell of your ear.

“I’m so close baby,” he strains into your ear, “want you to come with me,”

With that he takes his free hand and resumes his work on your clit. The combination of the dragging of his thick cock over your G-spot over and over again with the tight circles he’s rubbing into you has you barreling towards your second orgasm. Knowing your body the way he does, Carmy can tell, and he tries his best to time his release with yours.

With one final stroke, you’re coming undone on Carmy’s dick, throat still held tight by the ribbon of his award. Carmen stutters as he comes inside of you with a groan, holding your hips in a way that will bruise as he paints your insides, the warmth adding to your intense pleasure. You both come down from your highs with a collection of sighs and moans, and finally, Carmy pulls out of you. You whimper at the loss of contact and the feeling of him leaking out of you.

Wordlessly, you begin to dress yourself again. You don’t even bother asking Carmen for your panties back, that’s an argument you’ve lost to him enough times already. You zip your dress back up, Carmen silently helping you get it to the top as he too works on making himself decent again. You attempt to fix your hair looking in the mirror, getting it back to a somewhat similar state to when you arrived earlier this evening. You smooth out your dress, and go to walk out of the bathroom when Carmen clears his throat.

“You, um,” he looks at the floor before making that piercing eye contact he’s so good at, “you deserve better, you know, than that asshole,”

You stare back at the man you loved for so many years. The man you still love today. He was right, you did deserve better. Better than Alex, but better than him, too. You nod back at him with tears in your eyes.

“Congratulations on your award, Carmen,” you say quietly. You walk out of the bathroom, back to the ceremony.

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forensicheart · 8 months ago

Text

Holy Hands 18+

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: Lando can't help but do something after he notices your new obsession with his hands

Warnings: oral (f receiving), dirty talk

A/N: This is inspired by the post I recently reblogged, like goddamn those hands

You had always paid attention to Lando's hands, you paid attention to everything about him of course. You knew he was hot, you knew the fans thought he was hot but when you came across a collage of your boyfriends hands while scrolling through twitter, you found a new appreciation for this particular body part.

You were curled into Lando's side as you both sat on the couch, some show playing in the background as you watched Lando scroll through instagram on his phone, or more importantly, the hands that held his phone. The veins that ran down his arms drawing your attention away from anything else, his long fingers that moved quickly and skillfully as he now started typing. Fingers that left lingering touches on you day and night, had made you feel so good you always craved more.

"Love?" You heard your boyfriend's voice call out to you and you hummed as you drag your eyes away from his hands with a blush. A confused look passed across his face as he started at your flustered face.

"Everything ok?" You were quick to nod not wanting to let Lando into your dirty thoughts. He hesitated but let it be as he nodded going back to his phone. You tried to keep your thoughts at bay this time as you drew your attention to the tv. The distraction helped too until you felt a hand reach for your thigh, thumb rubbing in circles and you took a deep breath as Lando tightened his grip slightly. Ignoring the feeling of his hand on your body you tried to understand the story line of whatever you were watching until you felt Lando's hand begin to move more, running up and down your thigh seemingly innocent. Your eyes darted to where his hand sat, seeing the way his veins were more prominent than before, his fingers stretched out and your mind drifted back to those dirty thoughts.

"My hands huh?" His voice made you jump slightly this time, almost forgetting he was there and you were lost in your thoughts. You feigned confusion looking up at him and tilting your head, knowing all to well that your face was flushed and your look faltering.

"That's what got you all flustered before, whats got you blushing now. Right baby?" You wanted to pull a poker face shake your head but you knew the redness of your face would never allow that as you were caught in the act of admiring Lando's hands. So you simply nodded your head, turning it to face the tv once more as you avoided Lando's gaze. You knew he would have that stupid smirk if you looked at him and you were right. His hand grasped your chin and forced you to face him making you see the large smirk on his lips.

"Use your words baby"

"Your hands made me flustered" You didn't think Lando's smirk could grow any more but you were proven wrong.

"And why's that? Were you thinking about them? Them touching you? Making you feel good?" Lando had no shame in his words as his voice lowered huskily, looking you directly in the eyes as he spoke, his thumb stroking your cheek.

"I was" You admitted to him, hoping he wouldn't ask for anymore detail but you were wrong once again.

"Tell me exactly what you were thinking about baby" You swallowed as you avoided his gaze answering in a near whisper.

"Thinking about having your hands on my body, how you use your hands to make me feel good. Your fingers inside of me"

"Well maybe I should make those thoughts a reality, yeah?" Lando waited for your words of consent and once you breathed out a soft yes clothes began getting removed from your body. Once undressed you were pushed down from your seated position on the couch so Lando could place himself above you.

"So gorgeous" He complimented as his eyes raked down your body before he put his lips on yours in a heated kiss. Hands beginning to roam your body, moving down your body stopping to play with your breasts, pinching and squeezing making you let out a moan into Lando's mouth. With a hand now gripping your neck the other continued to make it's way further down your body until it was almost at the spot you wanted most.

"So wet for you baby, after only a few thoughts of my hands" He teased fingers swiping the slick on your folds making you let out a whine. You wanted him inside you, those hands you begun to admire so much more to make you feel good.

"Please Lando" Lando tilted his head as he looked at you, feigning innocence as you had before.

"Please what?" You huffed knowing that he knew exactly what you wanted and he was right, he had worked you up without doing anything but infesting your thoughts.

"Please. I want your fingers inside of me" The look of innocence disappeared in an instance from Lando's face as he winked at you.

"As you wish baby" And with that he was doing just as you desired, your mouth falling open as one finger slipped inside of you. A second was quick to join as Lando worked his magic. Fingers thrusting in and out at a fast pace, curling every now and again as he reached that perfect spot. You didn't try and stop the sounds that were escaping you knowing Lando loved to hear just how good he made you feel.

"You like that? You like how I can make you feel this good just by using my hands?" The hand that you had forgotten was wrapped around your neck tightened as he spoke making you let out a strangled moan of his name.

"Yes, yes, I love it. Please don't stop" You could feel yourself quickly approaching your climax as Lando added another finger into you, his pace never faltering but only getting faster as his long fingers reached that perfect spot inside you each time. Your own hands moved to grab at Lando's shoulders, the moans falling from your lips only becoming louder and louder as you pulled him closer to your body. Knowing you were close Lando added a final finger leaning down to kiss you harshly as you begun to tense.

"Let go for me baby, all over my fingers" With his words you couldn't hold on any longer and you clamped down on Lando's fingers as you came letting him ride you through your high. He removed his finger raising his hand to his awaiting mouth as he sucked his fingers clean.

Fuck. Round two it is then.

#writing #characters #love #imagines #requests are open #f1 imagine #formula 1 #lando #lando x reader #lando norris #smut #f1 #f1 lando norris #hands

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xo-cod · 1 year ago

Note

Hiii!! ummm… could u write sth fluffy for Simon w/ his pregnant wife pls it's ok if u can't love your stuff btw❤️

i don't even like babies but i'd give this man everything 😮‍💨😵‍💫😵‍💫 he's so fucking fine 😭

hope you enjoy babe <33 it's rushed i know 😭

"no. absolutely not. you set that down right now" before you could even breathe, you heard the stern command of your husband right behind you. it was in the same voice he used when he spoke to johnny or gaz, telling them to behave and stop messing about or to the recruits that joined. either way, it was a voice primarily used by ghost. not by simon who was your dearest husband

"si... i can handle this" you sigh, raising a brow as you turn around. he has that frown on his face, creasing his forehead while his lips were set in a straight line. it would've been adorable and had you not been a little annoyed, you might've marvelled at how beautiful simon looked even when he was annoyed

"you're eight months pregnant. the only lifting you need to be doing is taking your arse from the sofa to bed" he swooped in and took the box from you, holding it in his hands as he chuckles softly. he gave you a sweet kiss to your lips, nuzzling your cheek a little

"m'sorry love but you know how i feel about you bending and lifting anythin'. you'll hurt yourself or the baby. i couldn't bear that" he grimaced slightly, shaking his head to rid the thought of any injury to you. your unimpressed face brings a soft chuckle to his lips as he sets down the box on the side, wrapping his arms around your waist as he caressed your swollen belly. his chin rested on your shoulder as he took in how far along you were. and how beautiful this was, the greatest gift you could've ever given him.

he knows the strain this pregnancy is having on your body and every single pain you experience makes his heart ache because he can't get rid of it for you. even with his support and assistance and help, your pains still make him feel so guilty for being the one to do this to you even if you both wanted it. he's a little more clingy during the last trimester of the pregnancy, he almost damn nears having a heart attack when you want to help and carry objects that are a pound heavier.

it's just in simon's nature to care deeply and it doesn't help all the parenting books he's read up on makes him that much more protective over you. still, he doesn't want to overwhelm you so he tries to hold back even if it nearly kills him in doing so.

"you look so goddamn beautiful, lovie" he hummed softly in your ear, his thumb stroking tender circles on your hip whilst he gently rocked you both side to side

"you're just saying that" a soft chuckle leaves your lips and he narrows his eyes a little, amused at your words

"you know i've never lied to you before and i don't intend startin that now. you're beautiful. you're so beautiful to me, baby" he spoke with nothing but pure sincerity in his voice, his dark brown eyes sparkling underneath the living room lights. they're just so expressive, you can't help but lean into him with pure love at how you could've scored such a perfect guy.

it's such a warm intimate moment shared between the two of you, his hand gently rubbing over your baby bump while he holds holds you close. his whole family in his arms <33

#asks #simon riley #call of duty modern warfare #cod mwii #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x y/n #ghost x reader #ghost x y/n #simon riley x reader fluff #dad!simon riley #dad!ghost #dad!simon riley x reader

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dixons-sunshine · 2 months ago

Note

I’m not sure if you’re cool with writing stoner!daryl, as I didn’t see anything about that in your what you won’t write section so if you’re not ok with that it’s totally cool !! But if you are …..

Could you do a stoner!daryl x reader where they’re out on a run and reader finds some joints in a house and takes them back with her. And when they get home she shows him and they share a joint and sit on the porch to stare at the stars. I feel like high Daryl would be super touchy and needy and their stargazing would last too long before he drags her back to their bed lol

Head In The Clouds | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

A/N: Okay so I’ve had this in my drafts for a while because I’m so scared that I messed this up. I tried doing my research on this but I’m still worried. I hope I did an okay job with this.

Daryl Dixon was a rather serious guy. Sure, being with him, being his partner, had made him open up like a blooming flower, granting you the permission to see his caring, funny, care free side. However, despite that, Daryl was still a serious guy, who preferred to keep his affections for you something private, something sacred, something for the two of you only.

So it came as a big surprise to you that all of that flew out the window for him after one singular joint. It was as if he had his head in the clouds.

Earlier that day, you had gone on a run with Aaron. The two of you had stumbled across a house that had been left relatively untouched, supplies-wise, and after a bit of digging, you had come across a little bag of pre rolled joints. There was not many, only three, but it still made for a cool find—a find you were currently sharing with Daryl, whilst sitting on the porch steps of the Alexandrian home you shared with Rick, Michonne, and Carl, gazing up at the stars, like Daryl had suggested the two of you do.

You took a hit from the joint, before passing it over to Daryl again, giggling softly when he leaned over to press multiple kisses to your cheek in thanks. “Dar,” you managed through your giggles, gently pushing him away, “that tickles.”

Daryl chuckled gruffly, his cerulean eyes sparkling in the low light that flooded through the curtains inside. “What, I can’t express my gratitude no more?”

You smiled at him and shook your head your body feeling light, almost like you weren’t sitting on the steps. Almost like you were floating. “Your stubble is ticklish.”

Daryl inhaled the smoke from the joint, held it for a couple of seconds, before releasing it. By now, it was only one pull away from being done, and when Daryl extended it to you, you waved it off.

“You can have it.”

He shrugged and took the last pull, before putting it out in the ashtray next to him. Once he was certain that it was out and that it would not accidentally start a fire, he turned his attention back to you. He scooted closer to you, wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you closer, before resting his chin on top of your head.

“Have I ever told ya how goddamn beautiful you are?” he asked softly, his voice sounding like he was in awe.

You laughed lightly and nuzzled your face into his chest, suddenly feeling shy, your hazy mind already locking the compliment away in the metaphorical “love” box. “Thank you, my love.”

Daryl inhaled deeply, the scent of your clean, recently washed hair infiltrating his senses and making him higher than the joint he had smoked ever could. “Ya smell so good, too.” He began pressing kisses to your temple, trailing down to your cheek, your jaw, before he gently nibbled on your neck… “Good enough to eat. Better than any damn meal I ever tasted.”

His words were making you feel woozy. Sure, Daryl has complimented you before, but rarely were there any sexual connotations behind them. This side of Daryl was something extremely rare, one that the high from the joint was bringing out to the surface.

Slowly, his hands began trailing over your body. First your thighs, up your hips, your waist, lingering right over the swell of your breasts, before moving back down and slipping under your shirt. His hands landed flush against your skin, making you gasp softly.

Daryl pulled back slightly to gaze into your eyes, a small, lovesick smile on his face. “I love your eyes.”

“Yeah?” you asked in a soft whisper, a smile on your face.

Daryl nodded. “Yeah. Them eyes’a yours shine brighter than the stars in the night sky.”

You giggled softly. “I can say the same about yours.”

Daryl’s smile widened slightly, before he leaned down and captured your lips in his for a proper kiss. Despite his sweet words, the kiss certainly was anything but. The kiss was passionate, steamy, and a slight bit sloppy. The joint had made the two of you a bit uncoordinated, but that did not matter. The kiss was still perfect to you.

Daryl was the first to pull away. He got up and extended his hand to you, before helping you up as well. However, he kept your hand in his, lightly tugging you behind him. “C’mon.”

“Where are we going?” you asked, although you had a pretty good idea.

Daryl sent you a heated look, one that had a shiver rolling up your spine. “I dun’ need’a see the stars to stargaze. M’gon’ see ‘em anyways once we get to our room.”

“Oh, yeah?” you asked rhetorically. “Why’s that?”

“Because m’gon’ take care’a you so good, you’re gon’ be seein’ stars, anyway.”

His words sent a lightning-like bolt straight down to your core. As you and Daryl walked into the house and creeped up the stairs, thankfully lucid enough to be mindful of the other people in the house, you could not help the excitement that filled you at the prospect of what was to come.

And as Daryl closed the door behind him and pinned you up against it, the two of you sharing sloppy, messy kisses, you thanked yourself for deciding to bring those joints back with you in the first place.

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justagalwhowrites · 1 month ago

Text

Take Care - A Dom!Joel Miller One Shot

Joel has a bad day at work so you give him something he can control: you.

Pairing: Dom!Joel Miller x Sub!Female Reader

Warnings: No Outbreak AU. Established relationship, husband and wife. Dom!Joel x Sub!Reader (light). Ages not really established but I picture them both late 30s/early 40s (Sarah is away at college and they are empty nesters.) Reader uses her safe word and Joel listens. Unprotected P in V sex. Oral sex, M receiving. Creampie. Sensory play. Overstimulation. Aftercare.

Length: 3.8k

A/N: I saw a TikTok about praising subs for using their safe word and decided Joel Miller would do exactly that. This is the same couple from the one shot Undone but can definitely be read independently.

Joel had had a shitty week at work.

It had been stressful for a while, a project getting more and more behind schedule because shit just kept going wrong, all shit that he had no control over. Deliveries were late, one of the apprentice guys on another team fucked up, winds were too high one day to keep working.

That day, it had all come to a head. The supplier fucked up their order, it started pouring rain at 10:30 in the morning, the contract holder decided to change the tile at the last second. He came home in a bad mood, still wet from the rain and desperate to feel like he was in control of something for a goddamn change.

You seemed to sense it when he came in, poking your head out from your home office as he stomped to the kitchen.

“Everything OK love?” You called at him.

“Shit day,” he growled, yanking the fridge open so roughly that the glass jars in the door clattered against each other. He found a beer and cracked it open and knocked back damn near half the thing in one go.

You came into the kitchen, frowning in your usual work from home uniform - yoga pants that made your ass look so fucking good and a v-neck t-shirt that seemed designed to drive him crazy - with your arms crossed over your chest, pressing your tits together like you were putting them on display.

“What’s going on?” You frowned, looking him up and down. “Talk to me.”

He quirked his jaw but did as you asked, ranting, raising his voice more than he was proud of when he was near you. But you just nodded along until he finally fell silent and took another sip of beer.

“What can I do?” You asked gently.

“I dunno,” he sighed. “Nothin’. Just need shit to work the way it’s supposed to for a minute, to actually be in control of one fucking thing so I don’t lose my goddamn mind. It’ll be fine, baby. Just gotta get through it.”

“Well,” you shrugged, stepping closer to him. “Want to be in control of me?”

He frowned a little.

“Baby…”

“I was just finishing up work for the day, anyway. I’ll be a good girl for you,” you smiled a little at him. “Do whatever you ask me to. If you want, of course.”

His heart beat a little faster. Fuck, that sounded so, so good. Having you in every way he wanted, getting to know he was taking care of you, making things go just the way they should. He longed for that control. Maybe a little too much.

“I dunno baby,” he sighed. “Might not be the best idea, I’m a little worked up right now. I don’t want to be too rough with you.”

“You won’t be,” you reached up and trailed your fingers through his hair. “And even if you are, I have my safe word. If you think it would help, I want to do it. I want to take care of you, Joel.”

He looked at you for a moment, into your soft, earnest eyes.

“Promise you won’t push yourself too far?” He asked. You nodded eagerly. “Promise you’re offering because you want this, too?”

“Yes sir,” you smiled, a little mischievously.

Joel stood up a little straighter, setting his beer on the counter and taking your chin in his hand.

“Then go to our room,” he said, voice low and gravelly. “Get undressed and get ready for me.”

“Yes sir,” you said again, slipping out of his hold and damn near skipping away.

Joel palmed himself through his jeans, his cock already aching and leaking, a sense of peace settling into him at the thought of was waiting for him just down the hall.

He downed the rest of his beer before going to find you, peeling his damp shirt off as he did. You’d done as he asked, sitting almost demurely in the middle of the bed he shared with you. You’d gotten out some of Joel’s favorite bondage gear and arranged it on the bed. He raised his eyebrows at you and you smiled proudly.

“I know what sir likes.”

He quirked his jaw, trying not to smile back.

“Yes, you do,” he said. “Such a good girl for me.”

He knew just what he wanted to do with you. He bound your wrists together over your head, attaching them to the headboard so he could have you on your back or your front before putting you in the spreader bar, opening you to him. The sight of your exposed pussy, dripping and waiting for him, made his mouth water.

But he wasn’t done with you yet.

He took out one more thing: the blindfold from your nightstand.

Joel had always loved toying with your senses, seeing how much more intense your pleasure seemed when you were tensed and waiting for it but not knowing how you’d get it. But he’d never used a blindfold with this combination before. You’d always been free to move as you wanted or restrained by his command or tied completely to the bed. He’d never tried it where he could manipulate your body like this, move you in just the way he wanted so he could use you in just the way he wanted.

You looked up at him from your position bound to the bed, your eyes a little wide as he held the blindfold.

“Remember your colors?” He asked.

“Yes sir.”

“Remind me.”

“Green, yellow, red,” you said obediently.

“Good girl,” he said. “Right now?”

“Green.”

“Good,” he said. “Gonna put this on you and I’m gonna take over. You’re going to be mine. All mine. Understand?”

“Yes,” you breathed.

“Yes what.”

“Yes sir,” you said.

“Good girl,” he said and put the blindfold on you. He took a moment to look at you like this, all spread out for him, ripe and ready for the taking. The trust you had in him to be so vulnerable, the confidence you had to offer yourself so willingly made his heart ache. Fuck, he loved you.

He unbuttoned his jeans and unzipped them slowly, as silently as he could, before freeing his cock. He stroked himself a few times, spreading his precome over his shaft as his eyes lingered on your breasts, trailing over the softness of your stomach to your bared pussy and spread thighs. Fuck, he was going to enjoy this.

He kept working his cock with one hand as he reached out with the other, watching your face as he brought his fingertips ever so lightly to your wrist, just below where you were bound to the headboard. You gasped at the contact and he trailed his fingers slowly, lightly over the silk of your skin. He continued his path over the crook of your elbow, your arm, your chest, his fingers tracing the outline of your plush breast. But he took his fingers away before he reached your nipple, watching as it pebbled and hardened in anticipation of a touch he wasn’t going to give you.

You whimpered when he stopped touching you and he smirked at that.

“So needy already?” He asked.

“I’m sorry, sir,” you said, voice tight. “I just know how good you make me feel.”

“Don’t worry,” he said. “Be my good girl and I’ll make you feel good. When I want you to feel good, I’ll make you feel good.”

He explored your body like that for a while, his fingers getting close to your most sensitive parts, always stopping just short of giving you exactly what you wanted. But you were craving it more and more, he could tell from the tension in your body as he teased you and the way your pussy was fucking weeping for him, your slick making your spread skin glisten.

“My baby need more?” He asked, standing at the foot of the bed, not touching you at all.

“Yes,” you panted, squirming as best you could in your bonds. He moved up the bed while you did, silent as he could. “Yes, yes, please sir, I…”

He took your head firmly in his grasp, making you gasp, and turned it so your mouth was facing him.

“Open,” he ordered and you obeyed so fast he laughed a little at it as he guided his thick, hard cock to your lips. He pushed inside slow at first, giving you a moment to adjust so you wouldn’t accidentally bite him in shock, but then held your head in place and thrust in quick, all the way to the back of your throat. Your gasp was quieted by his intrusion and he felt you struggle to swallow him. He held himself there, buried in the wet heat of your mouth as you worked to contain him and then started fucking into you there, watching your lips wrap around his shaft, feeling you swallow around him to take him into your throat, your tongue pressing up against the underside of his shaft just the way you knew he liked.

“There you go,” he praised, his grip on your head tightening. “Just like that, such a good girl for me.”

His free hand moved to your breast and, when he pushed himself against the back of your throat and held himself there, he took that full, soft mound in his palm, your nipple firm against him as he squeezed and held you. You groaned at that, and he almost did, too, the vibration of your vocal chords and the heat of your mouth and the plush of your tit almost too much for him.

Almost.

But he wasn’t ready to come yet, even though filling your pretty throat with his spend sounded so fucking good in that moment as you sucked him. He pulled free of you and you coughed and sputtered, a trail of spit going from your lips to the head of his cock.

“You’re too damn good at that,” he said, releasing your head and your breast, no part of him touching you anymore. “Color?”

You panted for breath but didn’t answer.

“Be a good girl,” he said. “And tell me your color.”

“G-green,” you managed, chest heaving.

“Good,” he said before moving quickly, quietly, to the other side of the bed, stopping at your waist. He jerked his cock, gathering your spit from his skin, and carefully aligned two fingers with your leaking entrance, being sure not to touch you anywhere else as he did. He watched your breathing ease, your head still turned toward where he’d just been standing. A false sense of security. But he’d control that, too. He thrust his fingers inside you, swift and hard, and your back arched and you gasped, your channel clenching tight around him. You looked around - as if you could see him, anyway - trying to figure out where he was standing. He helped you figure it out, pressing the heel of his hand into your clit while he took your nipple in his fingers, twisting and pulling just enough to make you whimper.

“So fuckin’ wet for me,” he worked himself as deep as he could reach, grinding against your clit as he scissored his fingers inside of you. “That what you like? You get off to someone else taking over this gorgeous fuckin’ body of yours, that it?”

“Yes!” You cried out. You were trying to kick your legs but couldn’t manage it with the spreader bar and Joel smirked, loving what he could do to you.

“Yes what.”

“Yes sir!” You said quickly. “Yes sir, yes sir, I love it, fuck!”

“Go ahead and come for me pretty girl,” he said. “Come for being so good for me.”

You obeyed, throbbing and fluttering over his fingers, breaths frantic.

Normally, he’d keep pushing you in an orgasm. Try to pull the strongest one from you he possibly could. Not this time.

Right at your peak, he pulled his fingers free and he watched as your tight little hole grasped at nothing, leaking and desperate. You whimpered, your fists clenching, and you fidgeted as best you could but he’d taken that outlet away. You were pent up, needy, totally reliant on him and his touch to give you what you were aching for.

Joel went to the foot of the bed and took the spreader bar in his hands, using it to flip you onto your stomach as your pussy was still fluttering and you cried out as he climbed on the bed between your open legs, grabbing your hips and pulling you into the position he wanted. He lined his cock up quickly and fucked into you hard and fast, bottoming out in your still orgasming cunt in one stroke.

“Fuck,” he panted, buried totally inside of you as you struggled to get your bearings. He ran a hand up your back, planting it firmly between your shoulder blades to push you further into the mattress before running up to the small of your back. “So fuckin’ pretty, all open for me like this.”

He started to fuck you then, moving inside you forcefully, savoring the way your body molded to his. You always took him so damn well, your channel so fucking tight and warm and soft and he knew just how to drive you higher, make you needier.

Joel reached between your spread legs and toyed with your swollen clit and you cried out as he worked you there, bringing you closer and closer to another orgasm before easing his touch, pulling you back from the brink but leaving you even tighter around him. He did it again and again, pushing you further with every motion. The whole time, he was finding new places to touch you, tease you, never giving you a hint at what he was doing next, each new sensation a surprise to build your orgasm more and more.

“Love this tight little pussy,” he panted, driving into you again and again. “Always so good for me, just made to take this cock weren’t you?”

You didn’t really respond, just giving a muffled little groan. Joel frowned, slowing his pace and relaxing his touch on your clit.

“Baby,” he said, his voice tight. “You OK?”

He looked to your hands, you fingers fumbling against themselves and he stopped moving, still inside you.

“Honey,” he said. “Need a color.”

Your voice was muffled and then he felt you move, lifting your torso just enough to turn your head.

“Red,” you panted, voice wet. “Red, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

“Shit,” Joel said, pulling out of you gently but moving fast then. He freed your ankles quickly and delicately adjusted you so you were on your back, Your chest was heaving and your face was wet and you kept apologizing over and over. “I’m gonna take off the blindfold, close your eyes so it’s not too bright.”

You nodded quickly and he gingerly pulled the blindfold off, the fabric wet with your tears.

“Oh baby,” he said softly, freeing your wrists next and pulling you into his arms. You buried your face into his neck, trembling and crying against him. “You’re alright, it’s OK, I’ve got you.”

“I’m sorry,” you hiccuped against him. “I really tried not to safe word, I…”

“What?” He pulled away from you ever so slightly, just enough that he could see your tear-streaked face.

“I thought I could take it but it was too much but I tried and…”

“Baby,” he said gently, running his hand over you to cup the back of your head. “Don’t you dare apologize for using your safe word, you hear me?”

Your eyes searched his and you sniffled, frowning.

“But…”

“I’m so proud of you for using it baby,” he said, watching you closely. “You did so good for me. I’m so proud of you for telling me when it was too much, so proud of you for not letting me push you too far. I’m sorry I did. We have the system we do for a reason, so we can explore and push limits and enjoy each other to the fullest but it only works if you use it when you need it. I never want to push you too far, honey, never. You did so good, using your safe word. You were so good for me.”

“Yeah?” You sniffed.

“Yeah,” he said, kissing by the corner of your eye, drying your tears with his lips. “So proud of you. So happy that I can call you mine.”

You nuzzled closer to him, your breaths calmer and deeper now.

“I was supposed to be taking care of you though,” you said, almost pouting. “I was trying to give you what you needed and I screwed it up.”

“You didn’t screw up a damn thing,” he said, his lips brushing the crown of your head. “This is part of it, baby. You’re lettin’ me help you, letting me take care of you when you need it. This is something going the way it’s supposed to go - maybe not the me pushing you here part but the part where you told me it was too much? That’s us working how we’re supposed to. I needed something to work and it did. Understand?”

You nodded into him, pressing yourself closer. He held you like that for a while, rocking you gently until your breaths had calmed and you weren’t crying anymore. You adjusted in his hold, fingers tracing over him, kissing his neck. He groaned a little at that.

“I still want to take care of you, though,” you said, voice low and a little needy.

“Don’t need to do that, baby,” he said, forcing himself to not grind his aching cock against you.

“I know,” you said, pulling back from him. “But I want to. Will you let me, sir?”

He smiled a little, searching your eyes, making sure you were really in a good place.

“Alright, baby,” he said. “Take care of me.”

You smiled and nudged him onto his back and he went where you guided him, grinning a little to himself as he watched you. How’d he get so lucky, having you all to himself?

You stroked his cock, which quickly went from half-hard to fully erect, and you got this proud little look on your face as you did, as though he’d ever have a prayer of not being hard and needy for you.

“Can I ride your cock?” You asked, still stroking him. “Please sir?”

“Fuck,” he said, something about you asking permission to be on top making his heart speed up. “Yeah, baby, yes you can.”

“Thank you, sir,” you said, straddling him. You planted your hands on his chest for balance and eased yourself down onto his firm length and he groaned as he felt you make room for him inside yourself. You started slow, finding a rhythm and an angle that let you grind your clit down against his skin as you worked him before going harder, faster. His hands roamed over you, spreading over your thighs, running over your sides to your breasts, watching the place where he was disappearing into you. His climax was growing fast, already so close before the two of you had stopped before. It had been waiting just below the surface and you were expertly drawing it out of him with every stroke of your tight, wet heat. You felt just so fucking good inside, like you really had been made to take him. You made him come harder than anyone else he’d ever been with, made him more desperate and needy than anyone else ever had and, right now, you seemed bound and determined to make him fill you up.

Your breaths got faster, needier and your back arched as your pussy got even tighter on him.

“Fuck, you about to come for me?” He asked, having to clench his jaw to keep from coming himself in that moment.

“Yes,” you whined. “Yes sir, if it’s OK, I need to come, please sir, please.”

“Come for me,” he said, rocking his hips up into you and making you cry out. “Come all over my cock, baby.”

You obeyed, gasping “thank you” over and over as your channel throbbed so hard around him it almost hurt. Your hips stilled, holding him deep inside and he ground himself deeper, your orgasm triggering his own. He pulled your hips down on him, holding himself so deep inside you as he came, feeling you as close as he possibly could.

You collapsed on him as your orgasm eased, panting for breath as you nuzzled into his chest, his cock still throbbing within you. He put his arms around you, holding your soft warmth close, breathing in the smell of your hair and skin tinged with sex as he did.

“How are we doing, pretty girl?” He asked eventually, his hand tracing a slow, soothing pattern over your spine.

“I’m good,” you said, voice light and airy and completely blissed out. He chuckled a little at that and you sat up ever so slightly from him. “How are you? That is the real question.”

“Oh, I’m amazin’,” he smiled and kissed you lightly.

“Better than when you got home?” You asked, hopeful.

“So much better, baby,” he said, kissing your lips again before going to your cheek, your throat, tugging you closer again as his cock softened inside you. “Take such good care of me.”

You hummed happily and kissed his chest.

“Can I keep taking care of you?” You asked.

“You feelin’ up for that?” He frowned, his hand stilling on your lower back. “Don’t want you pushing it.”

“I know,” you said. “I had planned to cook tonight but I was thinking we can order dinner instead. Chinese? General Tso’s chicken and egg rolls and beer?”

“Sounds amazing,” he gave you a squeeze.

“Then we can watch Curtis and Viper IV,” you said, kissing his chest. “They just put it on Amazon. As long as you promise to cuddle me during, of course.”

He laughed a little.

“Good luck stopping me,” he said and you sat up from him a little, smiling down at him, making him stretch up to kiss you for a change. “Thank you, baby. Don’t know how I got so lucky with you.”

“Back at ya,” you smiled and, as the two of you went to get cleaned up, Joel knew that the rest of his week was going to be better. After all, he had you.

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #dom!joel miller

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slaaverin · 3 months ago

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Sorry but HOLY SHIT.

I'm?????? At loss for words.

This is the gayest shit I've ever seen.

AAAAAAAAAAAH.

Park Jimin is devious, he is sneaky, he wants everybody to know JK is HIS and Jungkook just sat or lied there letting him writing his own name ON HIS CHEST and also let him take a picture of his creation while Jungkook smiled like a..a..proud boyfriend? Idk. HIS SMILE???? LIKE HE'S HAPPY HE JUST GOD CLAIMED BY HIS MAN

ALL OF THIS IN FRONT OF STAFF AND TAE.

This is??? I'm baffled.

You can't defend them. You can't. Who agrees to have someone else's name written on their chest? If they are not a couple? NO ONE. IT JUST DOESN'T HAPPEN. I REPEAT THIS SHIT DOESN'T HAPPEN IN REAL LIFE THIS IS NOT A THING

Jimin made sure everybody knew JK his HIS. He claimed his boyfriend as property of The Park Jimin but WE KNEW THAT.

The fact he thought funny to just do it again for good measure AND TAKE A PICTURE FOR HIS PERSONAL ARCHIVE TO REMEMBER. Jimin looking at the picture month later and telling himself "Oh yeah, I took a picture of MY MAN on the boat my little Jungkookie is MINE AND MINE ONLY" while looking at it fondly and a little devilish.

This is surreal.

This is the type of shit that couldn't have been predicted.

IT FEELS REALLY SEXUAL TOO. IDK??? LIKE??

I'm losing my goddamn mind.

Guys guys we have come to this type of insane stuff OK. ok.

This is fine. This is perfectly fine. Let me breathe.

I'M NOT OK???

God couples are so annoying and insufferable.

We get it guys you're really in love in a kinky way. We. get. it.

Do they know some people are single?? Do they not care? No those two lovebirds are too occupied being completely obsessed with each other of course 😐

They are completely insane, those two.

I'M SO DONE. BYE.

#long reaction but damn #they are crazy #jikook #kookmin #jimin #jungkook #are you sure #travel show #behinds

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stormz369 · 2 months ago

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☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch 20

Jason Todd x (f)Chubby!Reader

written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, will probably get NSFW later, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!

warnings/labels: non-consensual drugging (still not reader), still dealing with themes of medical trauma, boundary crossing, non-con theming (no SA, no hard R, just ... theming), brief mention of masturbation, angst (no comfort yet) wc: 3.4k

Chapter Selection

Eventually we parked, and Spoiler helped me out of Hood's grip. The man growled at her pulling me away, flinging himself out of the Batmobile to follow. He landed hard on his knees and wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me close again.

He roared; “MINE!” And soon his helmet was pressed into my hip, his fingers digging in to my thighs. He trembled against me, breathing hard. Nightwing parked his bike, setting my helmet on his handlebars before turning toward us. Red Hood growled at him as he approached, and I blushed a bit, frowning. What on earth had I done to make this guy so territorial over me? Or was it all the pheromones?

Spoiler sighed, pointing to some seating at a long table. “Well, if you can get him to chill out a bit, you can have a seat over there. Just don't touch anything.”

I nodded, resting a hand on Hood's shoulder and pushing back a little. “Mr. Hood, you're squeezing too tight…”

He whined, releasing his grip a bit. “Ahhh … s- sorry … sorry, sorry, sorry….”

“I- it’s ok. … Come on, let's go sit, yeah? You can't possibly be comfortable down there?”

He let me coax him to stand, but as soon as I took a seat he flung himself onto the floor in front of me again, nuzzling into my knee now. I shrugged, patting the top of his helmet; at least he wasn't pressed so close to my crotch anymore…

Batman took a seat at a giant computer, pulling up reports and speaking with someone called Oracle. I didn't pay attention; I didn't want to know anything I didn't have to know here. I slipped my phone out of my pocket, but there were no responses from anyone yet. No Jason, no Dick, not even Steph…

“Alright, B, where is he?” A familiar voice snapped me out of my thoughts, and I looked up.

Red Robin had a small metal case in his hand. He looked over toward us, a determined look on his face. The fingers of his gloved hand slid across his face as we made eye contact and he realized he didn't have a domino mask on.

“.... Tim?!?!” My voice sounded shrill to my own ears. Batman's typing stopped and he slowly turned to stare at us.

“Shit!” He spun on his heel, clearing his throat. In a deep voice, he called out; “um, no…?”

“.... You came in here without a mask on?” Batman grumbled quietly.

“No one told me she was here!? Why did no one tell me she was here??? We never wear masks in the Cave!” Tim rambled animatedly. He turned on Nightwing, shouting; “you should have told me!”

Nightwing frowned; “I told you I had to get her to wrangle him into the Batmobile, I didn’t think I needed to spell it out for you that that meant she was coming here!”

My eyes snapped onto him, really taking him in for the first time. I sighed softly, “... Dick?… the easiest way to get me to open my door would have been to answer my goddamn text!”

Dick shifted awkwardly. “Um … oh fuck it,” He took his own mask off; “… I don't have my phone on me. Do you see pockets in this thing??”

“I'm not looking for pockets!” I blushed bright red, looking away entirely.

“... Well, since you're already figuring it out …” Spoiler slipped her mask off, smiling brightly at me. “Nicely done out there! Pound it!”

She held a fist out to me. I blinked a bit and giggled erratically, shakily fist bumping her. “Thank you?...”

“Father! Duke stole one of my cookies while we were fighting Freeze! I had 30 cookies here, now I only have 29!” Damian shouted from the other side of the room.

“... No.” I whispered, slowly turning to look. “No, no, no…”

Robin was storming down the stairs toward us, clutching my tupperware to his chest; the tupperware I had filled with Damian's ma'amoul cookies. He had an irritated little sneer on his face, a very Damian expression. At the bottom of the stairs he looked over, finally seeing me, and froze.

Tears filled my eyes as I choked out a laugh; “no… I'm not seeing that. … That's a hallucination or something, … c- cause I know … I know none of you are stupid enough to let Damian put himself in danger like that!!!”

He looked between me and Batman for a moment before running back up the stairs. With a flutter of his cape, he was gone, and I was left staring at the spot he’d once occupied. Red Hood shifted at my feet, trying to get closer to me again. I slowly looked up at Batman, typing away at his computer, and down at the man nuzzling into my lap. Only two left … and something told me they wouldn't have brought me out to get Bruce into the car.

Trembling, I gently rubbed Hood's shoulder. I could barely hear my own voice over the sound of my blood pulsing in my head; “.... Jason,” he perked up, sighing happily, “... You can take your helmet off now, sweetie.”

His arms shot up to comply. He fumbled for the latch, and after a moment he managed to remove it, throwing it across the room. I flinched at the sound echoing throughout the cave, and slowly looked down at him. Jason's pupils were dilated so wide that there was barely any color visible at all. A thin layer of sweat clung to his flushed skin, and his hair was a mess. He beamed up at me, clinging to my legs. My hands slowly made their way into his hair, fluffing it up the way he liked it, and a deep grumbling moan rippled out of his throat. He leaned into my hands, tilting his head to press kisses to the fleshy part of my palm, and squeezed my knees tightly.

“... What exactly is happening here?” I whispered.

“... We think Mr. Freeze’s experiment was meant to make the victim more compliant. When Ivy’s pheromones are in your system, you’ll do anything to … scratch the itch. So if he used them as a base for some kind of obedience serum …” Dick shuddered; “Small mercies though; it’s not nearly as effective as he meant it to be. It’s not terribly hard to resist, unless you … already want to obey the person.” I clenched my jaw.

Steph nodded; “He didn’t fully understand what he was messing with. No one does when it comes to Ivy’s pheromones, except for Ivy. And now we think the pheromones are fighting back against whatever he did, trying to return to their natural state, so …”

“So there’s a chemical imbalance war-zone going on in Jason’s body right now?” I sighed softly, stroking his cheek. Jason looked up at me with a type of unwavering adoration that made me a bit sick. It was like he wasn’t home; like something was puppeteering his body. All of his usual walls and boundaries had been turned to rubble to make space for this thing in his body to do what it pleased with him… “And you used me to control him against his will…”

“... It was necessary. He needs to be cured before the experiment gets any more unstable in his blood and does who knows what to him...” Dick frowned.

Tim nodded. “I need to get a blood sample…”

Jason either didn’t hear him, or was so far gone that he didn’t care. But I wasn’t about to let them surprise him. I made a promise, after all. I gently stroked Jason’s cheek, looking into his eyes; “... Jason?”

He moaned happily, pressing in closer. “My love~”

I could feel everyone around us cringing. “Honey, Tim needs a blood sample, is that ok?”

Jason’s eyes shifted in and out of focus as he whined, squirming. “.... Don’t like needles…”

I nodded slowly; “I know. I’m so sorry, sweetie. But it’s important. We’ve got to make you all better…”

“Better?” He blinked a bit. “... Am I … not good …” He whimpered, suddenly gripping me very tightly.

“H- have I done something wrong? I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I’ll be good! Please, le- let me be good for you! I can! I can be so good! Y- You can have the blood! I’ll be good, please!” He gasped, tripping over himself trying to get closer and closer. His hands gripped everywhere, mindlessly pulling me out of my chair and into his lap, desperate to be pressed together.

“Ah! Jay!” I pressed on his shoulders, blushing bright red. “Jason, honey, it’s ok. You didn’t do anything wrong!”

“Please, let me be good for you! I wanna be good! I’ll make you so happy, I promise! I’ll do anything, I promise, I promise, I PROMISE!” He screamed, tears cascading down his cheeks, his fingers digging firmly into my ass.

“Ow! Jason, stop!” He froze, looking up at me desperately. I slowly slid his hands off my ass, letting him hold my waist instead, blushing bright red. “... Jay, … we need this blood sample. … Would you be more comfortable if I did it?”

He nodded quickly, eagerly agreeing; “yes! Yes, anything. Anything you want, you can do anything you want! I’ll be good for you~”

I sighed, clenching my jaw. I felt disgusting; how was Jason going to feel about this when it was all over? Was I wildly overstepping here? I didn’t have time to dwell on it; Tim stepped forward, pressing the syringe into my hand.

“Have him roll his sleeve up.”

Jason did whatever I asked, always accompanied by eager cries of; “yes, anything! Anything you want! Anything! I want to be good!” My stomach churned unpleasantly with every word.

As soon as the sample was done, Jason was gripping my thighs, pulling me close. “I did good? I wanna be good for you~”

I pulled him into a tight hug, pressing his face into my shoulder so he couldn’t see the tears filling my eyes. “Y- yes, baby. You did good. Thank you…”

He sighed happily, the desperation easing out of his grip, nuzzling into my neck. My arm went limp, I could barely feel the cool glass vial in my hand. Tim grimaced and took the sample from me, hurriedly tidying away the equipment. Batman continued to work at his giant computer, seemingly ignoring everything happening behind him. Dick and Steph offered me awkward smiles.

“You did good too,” Steph offered weakly.

“Don’t say that. Please, just … don’t.” I sighed. I hadn’t done good here. I had used whatever Mr. Freeze had put in my boyfriend’s body to manipulate him into letting me do something he would never have been comfortable with otherwise. It didn’t matter that it was necessary, or that he seemed fine with it right now, it didn’t even matter if it saved his life. I knew I had seriously crossed his boundaries. I knew he would have a hard time trusting me again when they got him cured, and I would deserve it. Hell, if he broke up with me after this I would deserve it…

I sniffled softly, trying to keep it together. Whatever else was going on, I needed to keep it together for Jason’s sake. He could be angry with me later, and that would be fine, I would deal with that then, but for now, he was happiest and calmest in my arms. Every time I shifted he whined, desperately pulling me closer again.

“... You're not happy… what can I do?” He whined, stroking my thighs.

“Nothing right now, baby. You're perfect just as you are.” I stroked his hair, trying not to cry.

He purred softly, pressing kisses to my throat and shoulder. “Wanna make you feel good… my pretty girl~”

I blushed bright red, grateful when Dick and Steph walked away. “... N- not right now, sweetie. Let’s get you well first…”

He whined, licking my collarbone; “Mhhh. …. Please … want you …. Wanna make you feel good~ I’ll be good for you, please~”

I shivered, gently pushing him back. “No, Jason. We aren’t doing that right now.”

He whined more, looking up at me; “whyyyy?”

“... Because you don’t want that right now, baby. I know you think you do, but that’s just the pheromones.”

He nuzzled against me, sniffling. “... You don’t want me?”

I chewed on my lower lip, glancing at Batman. He seemed determined to pretend nothing was happening over here, so I leaned in, whispering; “of course I do, my love. But not like this.”

He tilted his head toward mine, trying to get a kiss, but I pulled back, running my fingers through his hair instead. He turned to kiss my palm, whining; “... don’t you love me?”

“I love you very much.” My voice cracked sharply.

“Promise?”

“I promise, I love you with all my heart.”

He pouted a bit, kissing and nuzzling my hand. “... It hurts …”

“What hurts, baby? Did you get injured in the fight?” I cupped his cheek, gently moving his head a bit to look for blood. He clung to my wrist, spreading his knees a little and pressing his hips forward. “... Ah … I’m sorry sweetie …”

He whined softly, kissing my knuckles. “Please … help …”

I groaned softly, chewing on my lower lip. I turned toward Batman, frowning. “Um … should he ….?”

Batman looked over his shoulder at us. “It won’t fix anything, but it would alleviate the discomfort for a time.”

I nodded slowly, stroking his hair. “Ok, why don’t you go do that then honey?”

He frowned, confused, and tugged my hand; “... with you?”

“No, you go ahead, I’ll be right here.”

He whined sharply, shaking his head. “Want you!”

I sighed softly, cupping his cheeks gently. “My love, we are not doing that right now. I’m sorry, I know it’s uncomfortable, but I will not do that to you in this state. Do you want to go take care of it by yourself?” He shook his head, whimpering softly; “then I need you to be very brave for me, sweetheart. Can you do that?”

He slowly nodded, clinging to my wrists. “.... ok…"

I kissed his forehead, stroking his cheeks. “Thank you sweetie~ You’re doing so well; Oracle and Tim are almost done making your cure, just hold on a little longer…”

He sniffled softly, letting me sit in my chair again and resting his cheek on my knee. “... You really still love me?”

“I really still love you.”

“... Even though I lied to you? … I lied for so long …”

I chuckled softly. “I don’t feel lied to. We’ll talk about it more later, after I’ve had some time to process. Ok?”

He nodded, clinging to my leg. “... Are you gonna leave me?”

“No, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”

“... You promise?”

“I promise.”

Once Jason was sedated, and the cure Oracle made -Babs, I had to remind myself- was starting to work its way through his system, Bruce led me to his office so we could talk. There he told me a very long story; Dick, Babs, Jason, Tim, Steph, Damian, Cass, Duke. One by one they took on hero personas, some under Batman's tutelage, some on their own. They had all been so young when they started, seeking justice, or vengeance, or security. Bruce smiled a little when he told me how Jason had always insisted that being Robin made him magic. That smile disappeared quickly, and I learned how Tim implanted himself as the third Robin when that magic was snuffed out by the Joker's hands. They came together for different reasons, but there was one thing consistently linking their stories; tragedy, which led each of them to the BatFamily.

“... Obviously none of us wanted you to learn these things this way. … Jason meant to tell you himself, he just-”

“Couldn't find the words.” I finished numbly. “... I understand that.”

Bruce nodded, watching me across his desk. “... Are you alright?”

“... I … I knew that there was bad shit in Jason's past. I knew it would be hard to hear. … But … He’s so loyal to you, even when he’s frustrated by you, I … I really thought you had saved him from the worst of it … but you didn't. … You supplied it.”

Bruce stilled, taking a slow breath. “... I did what I could for him-”

“You taught those children that they could be heroes. And then you allowed them to dress up like fucking traffic lights, and pointed them at psychopaths and murderers. …” I slowly looked up at his face, my vision blurring with tears; “they were children, Bruce. … Your children. … You had one job when you took them in; to protect them. … Joker may have pulled the trigger on Jason's life, but you painted the fucking target on his back. … He was a child, a child you took in off the streets. You were supposed to give him comfort and safety, not hand him on a silver FUCKING platter to the FUCKING JOKER!!!”

I shrieked; rage and sorrow bubbled in my chest like a poison, and I threw myself out of the chair. I couldn't sit still. I had to move, had to scream, had to do something! I found myself pacing the room, unable to stop the tears that ran down my face; “do parents not even FUCKING try anymore?! Why are everyone's parents so fucking terrible???!? Why can't anyone do this one SIMPLE FUCKING THING?!?! Just protect your kids!!!! Let them BE kids!!! It's not that FUCKING HARD!!!!!!”

I tripped over the edge of a rug and landed hard on my knees and face, screaming at everything and nothing. Strong arms wrapped around me, pulling me against a broad chest, and I vaguely heard Dick murmuring, trying to soothe me. “... Y- you had… o- one … fucking … job …”

Dick rocked me gently as I sobbed. We sat like that for a long time before Bruce finally responded in a quiet, broken voice; “... I know.”

Dick stroked my back gently; “... You've had a long night. I know, I know this is a lot. It feels like too much right now, but it won't feel like that forever. … Why don't I take you to a guest room so you can get some sleep? You'll be ok in the morning, and so will Jay.” He smiled weakly, like he was trying to convince himself more than me.

“... No … nothing will ever be ok again…” I whispered.

“... Come on, let's get some rest. I promise, things will look better in the morning.” He helped me up, leading me toward the door.

I paused in the doorway. Damian was in the hallway staring up at me, changed into casual clothes, that same guarded expression in his eyes that always meant he was bracing for something. I could feel my heart breaking all over again; he was so little, and it was so unfair. I turned back to look at the man hunched over his desk, narrowing my eyes a bit; “... Bruce?”

He slowly raised his face out of his hands, looking up at me. His eyes shone with unshed tears. Good.

“... Have you ever considered the idea that, if Gotham's safety can only be bought with the blood of children, … Gotham might not be worth saving?”

I didn't wait for an answer; nothing he could say would make me feel any different. He had offered up half a dozen children to live and die for the supposed safety of our city, and it meant nothing. They died, and came back, only to have to keep fighting the same fights, night by night.

Images of the scars that littered Jason's body flooded my mind. How many scars had branded the young Robin's flesh? How many were earned as the Red Hood? Did it even matter? They were both Jason; Jason who threw himself into harm's way without a second thought, taking those scars, because it was all he knew. It was what he thought he was for. Jason, who deserved so much better, but never got it. Jason, who's father knew who murdered him, but did nothing about it. Not for him, not for the next kid, not for the city. The Joker murdered Robin, and the Batman let him live.

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