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netherfeildren · 3 months

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Honey, Stomach, Mine ; 3. I Was a Child Once, I'm Not Any Longer

Series Masterlist ; Part 1. ; Part 2.

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit 18+

Content Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics; Dystopian Society; Outbreak not Cordyceps AU; Slow Burn; Soft!Dom Joel; Sexual Inexperience; Small booby worship; FLUIDS — like lot’s of fluids forreal omg; Tummy Bulge; Heat Sex; Knotting; Biting; Mating; Blood Mention; Loss of Virginity; Squirting; Pussy Slapping; Breeding Kink; Size Difference; Size Kink; Power Dynamics; Creampie; Emotional Hurt/Comfort; Older and Experienced Alpha; Young and Needy Omega; Possessive Behavior; Age Gap

A/N: It's raining here right now and feels really like a perfect morning to post this, I hope you like it.

Word Count: 12.4K

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3. I Was a Child Once, I'm Not Any Longer

When you make your way into the kitchen a while later – he’d left you with clear instructions of bathroom and teeth, thinking to give you some privacy to adjust to yourself once again after what you’d done together this morning – you’re nothing more than a little omegan mess. Hair a birds nest, his too big t-shirt sliding over one naked shoulder, and worst of all, almost bringing him to his goddamn knees, in the bright morning light shining in through the big bay windows, he can see the glossy mess of your slick smeared all down and along your pretty thighs, almost reaching your knees.

Jesus fuck, but he’s in trouble. His teeth hurt, his gut aches, his cock – a mind of its own. It’s all starting, and he’s afraid and unprepared and too desperate to put into words. He wants it all now, he realizes, despite his fear, he can’t help himself but want it all.

You step into the room primly, nose turning up in the air to sniff curiously at the smell of what he’s making you for breakfast, and when your eyes swing around the room to him, shy. Shy as if you’re remembering your modesty only after you’d let him finger your cunt and slicked his cock. The look makes him want to be gentle, a thing he often is not. And when his eyes move further down, something goes soft and shy within him as well: two of his too big socks, mismatched and sagging around your ankles.

There’s something about you that’s impeccably vulnerable and honest, something he needs to guard fiercely.

He blinks away, looking back at the cooking sausages he’s got sizzling in the pan. No one had ever cared for you before, not in any real and true way, and he’d received you here with nothing but promises of more uncaring gestures, threats to send you packing. The wrong foot indeed. He’s such an asshole. And he’d not seen to his responsibility properly last night, hadn’t made sure you’d had a rich and filling dinner, left you in bed alone and cold and without him, entirely unequipped for this little life that had suddenly been placed in his hands. But you’d also scared him last night, out on the cliff, more scared than he’d been at the simple notion of you, that of losing you, like with the letter, the bidding pool and the threat of you being given away, there was something wrongly terrifying about it all, the sudden possibility of you not being with him. Scared into want, into wakefulness, perhaps.

Out of the corner of his eye he watches you tip toe into the living room, making your slow exploration around, to the big window where you pause to watch the outside world for a long moment, palm splayed against the glass as if you could reach out and touch it all, pluck the world into the cup of your hand. Then to the fireplace, bending in half to peer into the hearth and watch the flames pop, the sofa next, where he’d brought out another stack of blankets. You’d start nesting soon, and he needs to make sure you have the things you’ll want.

He watches as you bring the corner of one of the quilts to your nose, smelling the scent of him that lingers there, rubbing it against your face, and then moving to the stack of his sweaters he’d left beside, you bend to bury your face in the soft, worn wool. His heart thumps and thumps and thumps within him. You pull one blanket first, laying it before the warm hearth in the spot of rug he’d cleared for just this. And then another and another, some pillows on either side, sweaters tucked and stuffed between, starting to build your nest. He’s hard, knot tight and hot and ready, and he has to take a few steadying breaths, force himself to look away and pull the biscuits he’d made from the oven, flipping the gas on the stove off and pulling the eggs and sausages from the heat, grabbing the bowl of oatmeal he’d readied for you as he moves towards the bar.

“I made you some oatmeal, c’mere,” he calls, voice graveled with strangling want, but he appreciates the look of bright curiosity you swing his way. He’s coming to realize he finds everything about you, everything you do, devastatingly arousing, even just a simple look, the shift of your jaw. He pulses beneath his jeans as you approach, remembering the leak of your cunt against the throb of his cock from earlier and wanting more of it already.

He hoists you onto the bar stool when you reach him, he’d draped a folded throw over the hard curve so you’d have something soft to sit your sore little cunt on, and turning you to face him, he slots you between his spread thighs on his own stool, close as he can get you. You stretch towards the spread of food, and give a little sniff, scrunching your nose at him in distaste.

“Don’t gimme that face. Look, whatever you want–” He shows you the eggs and sausages and the oatmeal. He’d wanted to give you options. “I put honey and milk and cinnamon in it. Berries–” He pulls the bowl of blackberries closer. “You’re gonna be a good girl and eat all of it, and I’m gonna sit here and watch you do just that. C’mon, sweet thing, do as I say.” You look at him suspiciously, but with those words, as if your obedience were a foregone conclusion when he asks the right way, you start to eat. Slow little kitten licks and sips from the spoon of honey milked oats, and he has to force himself to turn and not burn you with the intensity of his gaze, piling his own plate high with biscuits and gravy and eggs and sausages, gut roiling with hunger not for food, he forces himself to eat, one palm still gripped at the back of your stool right up against your ass. He needs to feel you, to keep you close, it’s all starting now.

“Do you eat meat?” He asks, taking a bite of the savory and fatty sausage. You scrunch your nose again, nothing but wide eyes and a bout of sweet timidity now that your greedy cunt had gotten what it needed. “No? You wanna try?” You shake your head no, shrug that bare and tempting shoulder, end on a nod, leaning forward to take a small nibble of the meat from his own fork. Plush blossom mouth opening to slick itself against the metal where his own mouth had just been – his cock leaks. You chew slowly, thinking, come back for more. He pulls you even closer, tugging the stool loudly against the hardwood floor, feeding you from his own plate and hand, watching the shift of your jaw, the bright of your eyes as you enjoy all the food he’s made just for you, until his plate is clear, and he’s so fucking hard he feels faint – all the blood that’s supposed to be in his brain pooling at his groin.

He could feed you forever. He will.

Picking at the blackberries now, carefully choosing the fattest and shiniest one first, he presents it to you, watching your eyes shift from the berry to his eyes back and forth until you finally decide to humor him, plucking at his wrist with two tiny fingers, only a quarter of him in your grasp to pull him towards you, and opening your mouth so that he can place it on the dip of your tongue. Your mouth purses around it, they're sweet and tangy this time of year, and your nose scrunches again at the sour zing, and you’re so– he can’t help himself. Joel feels like a fucking animal, wholly himself. He yanks you towards him, up into his lap, head wrenched back and fucking eats at you, licking into you, tasting the fruit on your tongue, swallowing it down his own throat along with your spit. It’s disgusting only because it’s not enough, only because he wants more. And you– you respond to him immediately, little warbling song of a different sort of hunger in your throat, hitching higher in his lap, pressing closer, tugging and clawing at him.

He feels insane. He feels insane.

It’s a difficult thing to want so much, to be so confronted by the depth of your desire, your nature, to hold it within the palm of your hand as he is now.

You climb over him, moving to straddle his lap, to rub that needy cunt over his lap, ravenous huffs as you push and pull him this way and that, kissing his face, his ears, his neck, smelling his hair. He has to plant his bare feet wide, steadying himself to hold the two of you upright as you lose control a little bit. It’s almost time, it’s so near.

He lets you do as you need, grinding against him, marking him with your scent; your inexperience obvious in your desperation. For the life of him, he can’t fathom what his excuse is.

His hands slide over your knees, “Look’t what you’ve done,” he tuts, passing a ghosting thumb over the skinned little cap, adventure wound from last night, up your thighs, beneath the hem of the t-shrit, no fucking panties, fuck, his fingers slip against your slick covered thighs to grip the meat of your ass, slippery, pulling your ass cheeks apart to feel all that glorious wet sliding everywhere. He needs to calm down, but he pulls you tight against the pulse of his cock, grinds and grinds and pants up into your own open mouth.

You’re staring down at him now, wide eyed, and your frantic movements slow, hands on either side of his face, fingers clutching at the curls that wrap around his ears. He slides one hand lower to cup your sex, the smooth and bare little palm-full of it, the other sliding up your back, over your shoulder and down your arm to grip and squeeze your wrist tight, your eyes flash, and then he moves to cup your little tit, pinching and twisting the soft puffiness of your nipple, smiling up at your little gasp, and tucks the tip of his index finger inside of you, just a crook of the first knuckle, just to feel you tremble around him. You gasp, oh, and he wants to tie you up in strings and play with you, make you whatever he wants at that moment. Yeah? Just like that? He whispers up at you, and he wants you to give him so many things and everything, and suddenly, the possibilities of him are endless, so much potential to be born from you. He wants to fuck you full and breed you and keep you forever, and he feels insane and finally soothed.

It’s the rut starting, he knows, and it should be considered a cruelty to want something so much, but you only feel like a gift.

You sigh a shaky little exhale that makes his stomach clench with how sweet it sounds, lashes fluttering shut at the feel of him breaching you just this little bit. He bends his head to bite at your nipple over the worn cotton of his shirt, keeping his eyes on yours, on the shocked look you’re wearing. He gives one sharp tug with his mouth, and then shoots back up to press one more swift, hard kiss to your open mouth. When he pulls his finger from your leaking hole, he gives your pussy a gentle pat, right on the clit.

“We gotta calm down,” he says slow, can hear the sticky splash of your cunt against his patting fingers. You nod your head, but shift your hips side to side, trying to find friction. “Told you we gotta time it right – take our time. Didn’t I?” But his hand provokes you still, looking up at you with all the wonder of a man coming across something he’d searched for all his life and yet, at the final moment of discovery, is still shocked.

“You need to eat too,” you say shyly, fingers still twined around his ears, one single tip laid flat against his right gland, applying soft pressure, pulling away, tapping twice, applying pressure again. Your shared want in a clicking language.

You slide off his lap, back to your own stool, but keep your knees hooked over one of his own thighs, two little feet pressed against the other, fingers still shifting in his hair, petting him while he piles his plate again and digs in. You touch him everywhere you can reach, tugging on his ears, hand smoothing over the muscles in his arms, poking the soft of his belly, gripping his jaw on either side to count his chews, and then palm cupping his throat to feel his swallows.

He feels suddenly, desperately impatient for the heat to start in full, to spread you wide on the ground and fuck into your slicked, open cunt, to pump it full of his semen and tie you to him with his knot. To own you in a way that only the thing you are and the thing he is would allow.

You stare at him intently, focused concentration, like you’re reading his mind, brows furrowed and chin tipped.

“Can I help you?” He crooks a brow at you.

You shake your head, staring him down, chin to sternum. “No– You eat so much.”

“M’hungry,” he mumbles around a forkful of eggs, desperate to fill that hollow concaved feeling in his gut he knows is ravenous for something other than just food. But you nod solemnly, as if it were a thing of the utmost importance.

“I understand,” you say very seriously, still nodding.

He swallows, tipping his head to look at you. And he realizes you’re right, in the obvious way of all such designated things, that you do understand him, and perhaps, for reasons other than just that mere designation. And on the tail end of that realization, another: he feels suddenly, starkly, like a victim. A victim in the same way you were, are, would have been, would no longer be. That same white box, that same perilous ledge, both of you trapped between precarious truth and free will. Both of you the same, and sitting here, side by side, now free, as well. Even despite your ties to each other. Of course you understand each other, you’re the same.

“How ‘bout we go down to the beach?” And your eyes go bright as that glowing comet, immediately throwing your arms around his neck and taking a bite at his ear, excited as a puppy.

Oh, please, please, please, yes. Yes, let’s go, you squeal and strangle him, almost rip his hair out of his head, but it feels good. It makes him feel real.

He’d dressed you in too many stupid, stifling layers, buttoned to the chin. Long thermals beneath your jeans, a sweater, a large puffer jacket, two pairs of socks, ridiculous, scarf wrapped around your throat you’re sure he’d use as a leash to stop you from galloping so far ahead of him across the wet sand if you gave him the chance.

You want to run naked and reckless and free down the cold, battered shoreline.

Everything is gray, everything is dark and cold and wet and so very unlike you. But you feel like it all allowed you to shed that blanket of shyness you’d donned at breakfast, after the kiss. All this: vast and endless and huge in a way you’ll never be. It makes you feel, for some reason, very steadfast in your smallness. Like, look how large the world is, look how unending, look how the sea crashes and prepares to strangle anything that would fall into it. What does it matter, my size in the world, my significance, when faced with all this? I might as well just be.

You turn back to look at where he meanders slowly in the imprinted path of your bootprints, laughter in your throat you can’t help, holding the pail he’d brought down for you to collect treasures out of the sand. The sky is angry, and from this distance, lashed by the wind as he is, he looks as small as you feel. This is comforting; the two of you are the same.

You are the same.

Standing still, you wait patiently for him to reach you, rolling the laugh like a stone over the surface of your tongue, enjoying the hurt of the saltspray, the biting wind that penetrates all the layers he’d insisted on. Soon there’ll be no part of you left unpierced.

And when he finally reaches you, he pauses but two steps away, and God, he has eyes like mirrors, staring down at you from his great height, and silently puts the pail out for you to drop the new additions for your hoard, a sparkling shard of blue green sea glass, a two halved clamshell, the inside: a star hued lavender, cream and silver glow. Surely what the flesh of a dream must look like were it to come alive.

Your thoughts turn suddenly, you spit the laugh out into the world and watch as it jars him, remembering how you’d read once, in all the many things you’d read in your many years of not life, that when a chest is split open during a traumatic emergency, that the procedure of splitting both halves of the sternum and ribs is called a clamshell thoracotomy. The process allows for access to both sides of the thoracic cavity – full exposure.

And you can’t, for the life of you, explain why the thought comes into your mind now, staring at that little purple dream as you watch it fall from your sand wet fingertips into the pail he holds poised for you, but you’re sure that whatever the connection might be, it lies only with the idea that you’re prepared for him to do the same to you, that you’re ready for anything when it comes to him. A splitting, a keeping – what more could be done to a creature used to only half measures? Half life, not life, half omega – not mated, full omega – mated. The intricacies of it all no longer matter, only the yes or no.

“Will you still send me away?” He’d said he’d changed his mind, but you still ask anyways, voice sliding over the screaming of the sea, throwing him off kilter. You want to hear the words. It’ll storm soon, the waves tell of this by the way they throw themselves against the sea stacks. Poor things, you think, nothing but beaten.

But you’re not like that. Let him say what he will, you feel buoyant and helpless and completely uncaring.

And he’s very silent for a long moment, chewing on the possible rejection that you’ll spit right back at him if need be. But then: “Don’t you want your own life?” He asks, and his tone makes you pause, the look in his eyes makes you pause for the fear in it all, for the trepidation it’s made up of. You tilt your head at him this way and that, inspecting him very closely, reading him for all he’s worth. You wonder if he realizes how transparent he’s suddenly become to you. All his hurts, faults, strengths, nature, revealed to you with one question.

Choice.

He’s asking you what you want.

“Can’t I make a life here with you?” You counter.

“Wouldn’t you like to see the world as only yourself?”

Further clarity – the marrow of all he is: afraid.

You go very soft on the inside, all you are in light of all he is. “I already am myself, Joel.” The sea lashes and howls, his name off your tongue does the same. “Can’t you understand that? This is me, this is what I am.”

He frowns so darkly at that, “I do understand, but I–”

And you step to him, reaching up to cradle his face in your hands, size dwarfing you, fear not: “No. You don’t. But it’s okay, I’m going to show you,” and you turn to continue your path along the water, secure in your certainty now that he’ll follow regardless of anything else.

Joel wants you to have choices. You’d failed to realize this before, you’d seen only his withholding.

He moves alongside you after a while, after you’ve allowed him a moment of consideration, idling patiently while you dig through the sand, crouching down to hunt for shells and rocks and glass, fingers wriggling deep beneath the freezing cold sand to feel the burn of it. And after a distance longer, and with much bravery, you clasp two of his too big fingers in your sand crusted fist and hold his hand as you walk together, gently leading him down the path you choose, and he’s so grumpy, and you can’t help but be endeared.

“I think that's the end of the world out there,” you say, pointing to that stopping point where your eyes won’t go any further.

He looks out at the sea, eyes stopping as far as the world allows, swings back to your face. And you clutch at his arm, pressing your cheek against his bicep, taking in his scent which has deepened and swelled and grown a body within the last hours – the musked cardamom of him – staring out at all that immensity, personification of all you feel for him, this want that is violent and grown teeth, that exists as nature exists. This want that, yes, perhaps you did not choose, but is still what you want, is still what’s right.

“The sea is so beautiful, and I’m so happy to be here.” No, you don’t want to go out and find another life. You want to find life here.

You already have.

When you turn your face up to his again, he’s staring down at you with that strange look from before, but changed now too. Devouring. No one has ever looked at you like this, and you don’t think anyone else besides him ever will. It’s only him, you see, with eyes like mirrors that reflect back your shared sameness.

“Is that what you came out here for? To find the end of the world? To hide?” You don’t care if you shouldn't ask, you don’t care about any of the things you shouldn’t do, only about what you want in this moment here and now.

Selfish, selfish, selfish. Yes.

“What does it matter?”

“I don’t know,” you say. “But it does.” It means everything.

He doesn’t respond, only more of that unfathomable look. You don’t care about this either, let him have his silence like a weapon or a punishment.

“How old are you?” You ask now, realizing that no one had ever told you, that you’d never even cared to ask – bad of you. But not that it would have mattered or made a difference.

“Too old. Old enough to be your father.” And this makes you angry, sparking angry. Your father – you’d had a father. A stranger father, but still yours. Joel is not that. So, this is anger like Leo’s. Anger at his offhandedness, anger at your own want, despite his words that sit like rust over your skin, anger at the violence of your own want.

You fight to swallow it, roll your eyes at him. Insist: “How old?”

“Forty eight.” And he says it like an admission of guilt, which you snort at blithely.

You flash two held up fingers at him twice, mouthing the words, twenty two.

His gaze is sad again, and you rub his arm gently, soothing. “I know.”

And yes, you think, he surely knows so much, but not everything. “I’m not anything else but what I am, you know? What I want to be.”

“Too young–”

You ignore him, voice insistent, “And neither are you.” You turn to face him full on now, taking two steps away so you’re not forced to crane your neck up at him, he cants towards you as if he can’t bear the distance. Nature: he surges toward it hungrily, and just as quickly, surges away. The wind buffets his scent against you, washes you in it. “You can’t make me any of these things you’d thought I’d be. I’m only what I am, and you’re only what you are. Whatever the rest of it is you want to force, or the world wants to force, or the white box says I should be– I don't give a fig for any of that.” You swipe your hand in a cutting gesture through the salted air, and he looks like he might smile first, lands on a flinch instead. “I am not ornamental, Joel.”

And he flinches again, jarred by his name, but then seems to remember himself, to be reminded of himself by the sound of it, and musters his strength, tightens his seams and says, “‘Nd I’m not here for you to impose yourself on. I’m going to make my own choices.”

“So will I,” you say slowly, and you suddenly want to cry. “So do I. This,” you, “Is my choice because I’m also an omega.” You suck in a tremulous breath. That truth, like a sea between the two of you. You’d thought he’d seen, understood, that he wouldn't have touched you as he had this morning, as no one else ever had, if he didn’t understand the gravity of that. “And if I’m not scared of that, you shouldn't be either.”

He swallows once, twice, devastated mask in place. He looks so forlorn, bearing a weight beyond his years on his shoulders. He turns out to face the water and asks it, “But what about what I want?” Not what he needs.

You close the two steps of distance, pressing against his side, circling his thick wrist in both of your hands, feeling the weight and strength of the bone beneath fevered skin. His sweater is thick, cable knit, soft and worn, a tiny fray at the edge of the sleeve, and a deep navy color, layered over a blue green flannel. No jacket again, he’d donned the colors of the sea instead, but you know now that he isn’t cold. It’s almost time.

You’d felt so shy after this morning, as you’d walked out to face him in the light of day, sat in his lap and kissed him, newly made, newly minted. Now, you feel as if you know everything you could ever need to know about everything there is to know about you and him.

“What about what you want? What do you want? Tell me,” you beg. “Say it out loud so we can both hear the truth of it no matter what it costs you.”

“Sweetheart, please,” he begs for mercy, looking down at you again, standing within the confines of your shackle, something further than devastation on his face now. Something like shedding years against your will, going back in time, stepping within a vehicle that would take you to the worst of it all, that point at the end of the world which he already stands on.

The two of you feel, very much, like two unexploded bombs, existing with great care beside each other.

The highs of his cheekbones and the tip of his nose are cold reddened, wind lashed, curls damp from the spray of the waves, burning with that dogged nature he fights and fights and fights. And he’s such a part of the world, standing here like this, tall and broad and vital. You want to be like that too, you think, large in a changing way. And he’s strong, strong in a way other creatures aren’t, strong in a way you aren’t.

But weak in others.

You release his wrist, forgo the shackle, remain in place. There’s a desperate plea coming from either of you, which though, you’re not entirely sure.

And then suddenly, and you can’t even be sure from where it comes from because really, if you’re the most honest you can be, you know nothing of this thing. “Have you ever been in love?”

He goes so still that the sea seems to grow more violent in comparison, an offset to his freeze. “Yes. I have.”

“Will you–” swallow your fear, be the brave girl, “Will you ever love me?” You must ask. There’s no other recourse for you in this, you want all of it or nothing.

He bends to you suddenly, getting right in your face, cold nose to cold nose, teeth bared, animal. “I am selfish and jealous and cruel. And I will keep you in a strangle. Do you understand that? Can you even understand what it’ll mean to belong to me? To belong to a thing like this? Yes, I will love you.” So then there’s nothing else to care about. He spins away from you, paces, paces, “I’ve– I… fuck–” fights the dog fight – you wonder how long he’s waged it for, maybe his whole life – turns back to face you, and there’s the look of a boy now too, like Leo, lost and angry and faced with what he is in an insurmountable, unwinnable way. We are what we are, truth impossible to ignore.

And then finally, fight lost, his face does a funny thing, a strange fracture and decision happening across the canvas of it, all at once. “I used to be a father. I used to have a daughter,” he tells you.

Entirely unexpected. Entirely terrifying. “Used to?” You take an urgent step toward him, use an urgent tone, the memory of your aunt and of would-be parents flashes in your mind. You don’t want him to say what you know he’s about to say. “Where is she?” You aren’t so naive.

“Sarah,” and he says her name with so much love. “She died.”

You shake your head no, tears swept away with the wind, freezing salted on your lashes. “No,” you say again, louder.

“When the outbreak happened – in the confusion. We were attacked ‘cause of what I was,” and he shakes his head once, hard and fast as if trying to jostle the confusion out of his mind, or perhaps knock it back into coherence, “Am,” voice limp at the end.

And then he’s the one coming to you, taking you up into his hold, cradling you more gently than the world could ever imagine a thing like him capable of. He finally understands what you are, you can feel it in the way he holds you. “Oh, no, Joel,” you cry into his neck, hugging him to yourself, pulling his head down to rest on your shoulder. “Oh, no. Oh, no.” Your poor alpha. Your poor alpha, he’d been so alone, so hurt and so afraid, and you realize now that you’ll have to be strong for the both of you, that you need to help him in ways only you can, that you need to be strong when he can't. And there’s only sameness here, of the most important sort. Both of you together, equal. When one could not, the other would.

It’s obvious the way all truths are.

“If I care for another thing…”

“I understand,” you tell him. It’s obvious the way all truths are: he’s afraid.

You kiss his face, cup his ears to warm them, bring one of his too big, rough hands to your mouth, pressing your lips to his knuckles, letting him know you’re here now to protect him in the ways he’d never been and had always needed and would never want for again.

He pulls you against himself in a hurt lock, tight enough he lifts you straight off your feet, face buried in your hair, teeth at your neck, biting hard enough you let out a bay of hurt. He can’t explain it, but there is so much care in the words you choose to wield against him, so much wisdom despite the innocent naivety, a clarity about the way you see him and all the rest of the world that sends him into such existential vertigo, makes him want to take a bite out of you so that he might swallow some of that innocence, some of that wisdom down for himself. An honesty about you that gives him no choice but to choose that which he knows he’s always wanted but has never let himself need.

“I understand,” you’re whispering, letting him savage your throat as he needs. “But everything is going to be okay now–” a moan of pain, “–that we have each other, don’t you see that? We’ll take care of each other.”

He digs his teeth deeper at the fine tendon in your neck, and then slides his tongue up and over your gland, tasting the leak of pheromones there. It’s time now, he can feel it pulse and beat, glowing bright within you. He had been stupid and carelessly blind. He’d been a liar. “I see now – I see. It’s alright, sweetheart. Don’t cry. I’m alright now.” But you wrap your arms around his head, comfort and cradle him, and he has to have you with a desperation that brandishes teeth and boils.

He shoves you back by your hips, keeping his grip on you steady, and turns to push you back down the beach the way in which you’d come. “Home. Now.” But you push back against him, rubbing your ass against the heft of his cock, presenting him with that cunt that belongs to him.

“No. Here.” It’s a demand, you have an instinct for this.

“Absolutely not,” but he’s gripping your hips hard enough to bruise anyways, grinding against you, tension vibrating his too big body, as if he were actually considering it, taking you here and now.

Please.

“You’d let me knot you right here on the beach with the whole ocean and God watchin’?”

“Yes. Yes, I don’t care.” You try and turn in his arms, head craning back, hungry mouth seeking his own lips.

The insanity of the fever. Now, omega, he rumbles, and there’s no mistake in the burr of his tone, his nature on display, loud and clear – an alpha ordering his omega back to her nest so that he might have her there. He shoves you forward gently, setting you on your way, and picks up your pail full of treasures to stalk after his own. He takes in the sparkle of seaspray like gems in your hair as he follows, the shiver of your frame beneath the too many ridiculous layers he’d forced you into, the stumbling of your feet as you turn back to spy him hunting after you. There’s wet on your face, and he doesn’t know if it’s the salt of your tears or the salt of the sea, and he wonders if when he drags his tongue across it he’ll be able to tell the difference. He’s sure he will.

Your scent like a leash leads him, stronger and fuller and warm enough to burn. His gut is tight and aching, cock so hard he feels he can barely stand up straight. He’s sure he can smell the pouring of your slick from your finally readied cunt, the bloom of it obvious in the air around you, juniper berries everywhere – something warmer, spiced vanilla, earth. It’s so good he wants to swallow it down like liquid, drink from your well.

He follows and follows, and if you weren’t already at the end of the world, he’d follow you there too. Up the stone steps etched into the cliffside, the steep incline sending you to huff and puff in strain. He’d feed you more, make you strong, feed you his cock and fill your belly with his come like honey. His breaths are bullish, bursting out in white clouds of steam, his neck hot and damp, skin boiling beneath his clothes.

You keep turning back nervously, your left hand stretching back as if to reach for him, and then speeding up again in agitation, going as fast as your much shorter legs can take you compared to his. But he measures himself, lets you get there in your own moment, and eventually, he’s pushing open the cabin’s front door and shoving you inside, forgetting to measure his strength, lost in his delirium as he is, so that you’re stumbling, being snapped back like a rubber band with his fist wrapped in the back of your jacket.

He rips it down your arms, uncoils the scarf, pulls the sweater over your head, hair a mess, all disoriented and malleable, and yanks you back and into his chest, heaving you up into his arms so that he can clamp his teeth at your throat again, laving his tongue over your gland, slicking you in his spit, sucking hard at the patch of skin, the burst of flavor on his tongue now, bubbling, carbonated almost, so strong his knees buckle and his cock is surely leaking a stream of precum down his leg. So fucking sweet, he’s growling, murmuring like a madman, grinding his erection into the lush of your ass, fingers sneaking under your shirt to squeeze hard and tight at your little tits. Your belly is a ball of embering fire, like you’d swallowed a comet, and he presses down on it gently, hand low on your pelvis over where your little womb is, this place he’s about to fuck full of his spend.

“The way you smell – your scent – I’ll go fucking crazy, I swear I will.” His voice sounds not his – coming from some source outside of his body, ringing hollowly in his head empty of everything else except you.

It’s started, it’s started, it’s started.

You’re full of glorious heat, and he soothes at the soft swell of your belly with gentle circles, hand sliding down to cup the little palm-full of your cunt, rubbing back and forth over your jeans, and then goes to his knees behind you, pawing at the button, ripping them down your legs along with the leggings he’d forced you into beneath them, panties and all; the popping of seams – his or the clothes he can’t be sure. He traps you in the tangle, leaving them around your ankles, boots still on and takes a too sharp, too aggressive bite of your ass cheek, leaving teeth marks, leaving Joel marks, enjoys the sound of your baying that ends on a shocked little squeak, a little ah, ah, ah. He grips your asscheeks too tightly and spreads them wide, watching the delicious little wink of your holes provoking him, and licks the broad flat of his tongue from cunt to asshole, finally, fucking finally tasting you.

He’s entirely lost to his madness from that moment forward.

He licks your ass again, again, pushes you forward to deepen the arch of your spine to eat at you better, and you mewl, whine, Joel, I’ll fall, but he can’t find it in himself to care. “Fall,” he tells you, “I’ll catch you.” But he spins you in his hands, fast and stumbling, trapped as you are, to face him on his knees before you as he is, as he should be, and you’re so small, morsel sized, perfect for swallowing whole, and open mouthed, he inhales at the mound of your cunt, tongue swiping out to find your clit swollen already.

You smell like nothing he can describe, too delicious to allow him the choice of clear thought. He pulls you down to the ground, rips your boots and pants the rest of the way off, and right there on the floor by the front door, he spreads your legs wide and eats your cunt.

Eats it.

Nothing gentle or restrained about it as he probably should, this being your first time a man licks your pussy, small and innocent as it is, he fucks his tongue inside your shaky hole, sucks hard and sharp on yor clit, your first orgasm, sensitive as you are, trembling through you already. More, more, more, he wants more. He hunches over you like the beast he is, tiny thing, pulls you up, palm cupping your bottom, one knee knocking against his ear, the other leg splayed wide, sliding down his arm, so he can suck, suck, lick at your clit, a gentle kiss as a prize for taking it so well, and then his tongue is back into your cunt to taste the river of slick you’re spilling just for him. Your flavor, so musk heavy, sweet and thick like honey; he feels full and set to burst, no more hollow pit. And he wants more, to gorge and gorge like a glutton. You come again, a splash against his tongue, so wet you’re slipping and sliding in his grip. He can hear your high pitched cries and whines, your Joel, Joel, Joel’s he shushes, soothes with his tongue, little kiss to your little clit that pulses against his mouth.

“Y’taste so fuckin’ good, baby.” He lets you down, crawling over you, pushing your shirt up to get at your tits, sucking and biting hard enough to hurt. He wants you to feel it all for days after the heat’s over, to leave marks, to make sure he’s left in your skin forever. Forcing your jaw wide, he slicks his tongue along yours, feeds you the taste of your own cunt, salty, sweet, his, and you take it so well, half limp and yet still clinging to him weakly, two orgasms forced on your virgin pussy back to back.

He scoops you up, belly to belly, spider limbs around his neck and waist, grabby hands yanking at his hair like you’re angry he’s not put you on his knot yet. His knees pop, his back aches something fierce as he heaves the two of you up, muscles in his thighs bulging to support you – he’s fucking old – and walks you over to your nest, setting you down on your back, spreading your knees wide, cunt ripe and blooming, so red, a wound of all the world says you’re meant to be.

Slicking his thumb over the soaked curve of it there’s a sticky string of omega drool that leaves him connected to you when he pulls back. He presses again at your swollen clit, thinks he can almost see the pulse of your rushing blood beat here at your spread cunt, slides down to the tiny winking hole and circles his finger there, giving you the slightest pressure, pressing in a tiny bit, up again to tease your clit.

“I’m gonna fuck this soft little hole until it’s so full of my come I don’t fit inside no more. Would you like that, sweet baby?” He asks so gently, don’t spook the fawn, don’t spook the beast.

Your eyes are fevered, face covered in a shine of sweat, your belly glows with heat, and you nod slowly, little smile playing tricks with him whispering across your face. His hands slide up, circle your waist, squeeze and squeeze and squeeze as if he could watch you burst, witness all that heat explode like a comet, then further up to your chest, two big hands covering two little tits.

“You’re so pretty, little omega.” And you preen, you glow, suffused with such vulnerable, honest pleasure. Joel has to be so careful, he has to be so good for you. He will be. You circle one of his wrists, tender little hand, fingers of vapor, he has to be so good for you, he has to be so careful. Again, remember, remember. He bends to press a soft kiss to the pretty tip of each nipple.

“They’re too small,” you whisper in an even smaller voice.

“No. No, baby, no.” He presses another kiss, drags his teeth over a peak, sucks on the other, switching back and forth. “They’re fucking perfect, so pretty and so soft. I love them– I’m fuckin’ obsessed with you.” He opens his jaw wide and takes the whole soft mound of it into his mouth, sucking on the whole thing of it. He probably shouldn’t say such things, he doesn’t give a fuck. “Look–” he says around the little globe, “Whole thing fits in my mouth.” He bites some more, kisses some more, sucks on them until you’re whining and pushing him away, until they’re sore and stinging and still he doesn't stop. He shows you just how obsessed he is.

He kisses you all over, your belly, your waist, the soft spot beneath your ribs, your thighs, and the pulse between your collarbones. Slow, slow. He has to be slow and gentle and patient for as long as his looming rut allows, he needs to ease you into this. Taking an ankle first in one hand, he presses a kiss to the gland just there on the inside of it, suckles a little, then the other, and watches as your cunt becomes more and more needy and swollen, red as a bloom, until you’re so desperate for it you’re writhing around wantonly in the nest of blankets, almost entirely lost to your fevered delirium, but not just yet, not just yet.

“Will you– will you put your big thing inside me now?” You slur innocently.

And he laughs gently, a tenderness pinching his heart which if he was less lost to himself, he might cry for. “My big thing?”

Oh, please. “Please, I– I think– please, I think I really need it now.” You twist this way and that, pulling the blankets up to your face to hide yourself away.

“Almost, sweetheart. Almost.” But he feeds you two of his fingers then, playing in your slick, the sticky wound of softness, and crooks his fingers to wedge them just inside of you. “Like that– oh, isn’t that nice?” He croons, pressing a little further in, feeling the stretch of you around him. Your eyes go wide and shocked, your back arching in a taught curve, hips opening for him to sink deeper until he’s palm to cunt. He leans over you, watching the place where his hand disappears inside and hooks his fingers, petting at the textured little place at the front of you, so, so sensitive. You keen loudly, a warbled sound that’s all fucking his. His control is so close to snapping.

He pulls his fingers from your cunt suddenly, watches how it shudders while you screech at the loss, looking up to search for him with bleary eyes as he rips his shirt and sweater up over his head, and then he’s pressing his two fingers back inside, thrusting into you a little harder, the splash and slap of your cunt as he fucks in and out of your tight hole. “Perfect little thing that's all mine.” He has nothing but praise for you, his good girl, taking him so well.

He pets and pets at that soft spot, molten heat pouring from your cunt, and when he starts to shake his hand, a little jiggle to knock your next orgasm loose inside of you, you give it up so, so nicely. Pussy going tight as a fucking fist, strangling his fingers, and then spilling loose and soaked, flooding his hand. When the contractions of your little womb have abated he stuffs a third finger in, forgoes some of that gentleness, and pressing a hand low on your pelvis, he shakes his hand hard and fast inside of you. “Want’cha to fuckin’ soak me,” he grits through clenched teeth, head slightly dizzy, slightly faint with want. And with pressure both from the inside and out, you do. Gush of come following your high pitched moan, tears soaking your hairline as much as your pussy just soaked the lap of his jeans. He pulls his fingers from your gaping hole, bends to lick through all that glorious omega slick and swipes his fingers through it from side to side, tapping on your clit harshly, slapping it a little, sucking on it again, fast, fast his fingers from side to side, forcing you into just one more little climax before he lets you rest.

You’re all twisted in the blankets, face turned and buried in the pillows. He crawls up over you, contorted as you are, cunt splayed wide and pulsing, and unbuttons his jeans as he goes, finally, fucking finally letting his raging cock free. It hurts, it needs you so fucking badly, leaving a sloppy trail of drool slicked along the already wet curve of your belly as it drags heavily against you, bobbing obscenely from his open zipper. He buries his face in your neck, kissing and licking up the taste of you, sucking on your gland.

“Please, please now. Please, now,” you keep mumbling into the blankets where you’re hiding. Please, now. Begging for his cock and his knot, so ready to take your first fucking like the perfect omega you are.

“Not yet,” he soothes, petting your hair back from your steaming face, pressing a kiss to your sweaty hairline. Please, you whine high, and he lets his cock rest heavily against the curve of your red cunt, slicking it there, dragging it back and forth, giving you both the weight of what you’ll have so soon. You kick one leg out weakly. “Not yet, it’s okay. It’s okay, sweetheart,” he pitches his voice low, soothing, gathers you to himself. “Let’s rest a little. No, no – just for a little bit,” he says over your whines and cries. You cling to him weakly, hips rocking against him. “I know, baby. I know,” he hums, letting you rub your sticky, sore cunt against the wide head of his cock, nothing but a boneless little mass of omega, stuck to him with tears and slick and sweat.

He rolls over with you on top of him, the brand of your cunt enveloping his erection between swollen lips, and his knot is ready to pop, it fucking hurts, his rut is near too. But he can tell you just need a little more time – a few more hours to soften and ripen just that little bit more, to lose yourself a little bit more so that he might fit himself inside of you, his too big body in your too little one.

He gets up eventually, shucking his jeans, and getting a glass of water to force you to take, and leaves the large, cold glass near for when you’ll need it again with all the slick you’re producing. So much that it runs down your thighs, slides up your back and all over him and the blankets and everywhere; everything sticky and heady with your scent. This is, he thinks, right before he succumbs to sleep too, head and balls throbbing from not having come yet, the most singular way an omega claims ownership over an alpha. That scent like a shackle that would keep them together at all times, that scent that after long enough, is impossible to be without. He buries his face in your hair and breathes deep, letting your smell move through him like a tangible thing, a kaleidoscope through his mind until he finally falls asleep.

Your hips move in a slow rocking swing over his belly, slicking the curve of it, making the hair covering him here clump sticky and soaked in this stuff that will not stop coming out of you. There’s so much, and you feel so empty, your head, your head is full of nothing but heat and bubbles and a throb that glows, and you don’t know why, but– oh, finally, he’s waking up. Yes, yes, alpha, wake up now.

He shifts and rumbles deep in his chest, and you feel his big thing poke you in the butt; it’s so heavy and so thick and it smells so good. You’d sniffed it, and you’d tasted it a little too when you’d first woken up, but you need to make sure to remember to taste it more later again because it had been so yummy, and long too. You can’t understand how it’ll fit, but you’re sure you’ll make it somehow. And it has a funny soft bit of skin at the end, and thick veins that pulse under the warm, incredible softness that covers it.

His left arm stretches out and over his head, he’s thick here too, big muscles under his skin that’s so burning hot it hurts to touch and feels good all at the same time. He has a dark vein that runs from his shoulder over the bulging muscle, and you’d tasted that too, then pressed your face into his hairy armpit to sniff him there also; gone all drunk and light headed at the scent. You rock harder; the little nub at the front of your cunt – it belongs to him – it hurts and it’s swollen and when you press your fingers to it, it has a little tiny heartbeat that you’re sure beats to the sound of his name, Joel, alpha, Joel, alpha, and everything is so, so hot.

You whine that sound you know he likes, the one that you know provokes him, rubbing your slippery cunt all over his stomach, grinding and sliding against him, trying to make the throb go deep and hard again like he’d made you do with his mouth. And oh, he’s so– he makes you so upset, and you feel big and little all at once, and that stretched soreness of your cunt, it’s all his fault, and the bruising around your nipples too, and he needs to put it inside.

He stretches again, blinks open slowly, long lashes, dimple beside the corner of his mouth, and you dig your nails into the hard muscles of his chest, dragging your blunt edged fingernails down his skin as you slide lower, over his big cock – that’s what it’s called, and you love the sound of the word, think it sounds how you imagine it’ll feel, cock – and try to put it inside, shifting and rolling over it, trying to impale yourself on it. It’s so heavy, and you know the heaviness will make the hurt inside you, the bruised feeling inside you, go away, if only he’d just do it.

You huff at him, cry a little, whine a lot, try and make it go inside again, slipping and sliding in all the slick that won’t stop coming out of you all while he blinks slow and patient at you, a little smile on his face, and he’s so pretty he makes you so, so upset. You bend forward suddenly and bite his nipple hard, yank on the hairs on his chest and thighs. Hard enough to hurt. He grunts, but lets you, only twinning his fingers in your hair tightly, letting you chew on him until you’ve released his skin on your own.

“You upset with me ‘cause I haven’t fucked you yet? You gettin’ impatient with me?” You huff at him. “Think you’re ready, sweet thing?” Oh, please, please, please.

You know that you’ve never been more ready for anything in your entire life.

He rolls you over, spreading you wide to play with your cunt again, and you start crying for real. “It hurts, alpha, please. It hurts, and I glow.'' It's so hot everywhere.

“You’re full in your heat now, baby. Don’t worry – knot’s gonna make you feel all better. You’re gonna be so full.” And his voice is so soft and deep and hard too, all at once. It floats away and it comes back, and he sounds like all the things and all the sounds that can have ever existed in the whole world, and also, just right enough to let you remember, only for a second, very calmly and in a moment of bright clarity, that you’d always known he’d come to fix it all. This is only the last part of that at last.

“My brave girl,” and he pauses a beat above you, between your spread thighs, his cock hanging heavy, tip-slicked between his thighs, giving you a sticky kiss every time it bobs against your tummy. He drags the pad of his thumb at the hollow beneath your eye, catching fallen salt water there, only of desire, not the sad sort, you know the difference so very well by now. And his own eyes, they’re so dark, so full of all that heat that’s so chock full inside you too, but also different, something like cool and serene and full of knowing, full of patience. Eyes like mirrors. The two of you are the same.

He wraps his big hand around his ever bigger cock, and smears the tip against your swollen, needy sex, pressing hard at the aching nub, sliding down and pressing hard at the bruised little hole. You growl an impatient quipping noise at him, but he returns it in kind, deeper, scarier, full of an order to settle.

“We have to go slow,” he says, “It won’t fit just like that.”

But you rock your hips in hitching jerks anyways. “No, I’ll make it fit,” you promise, clawing at his chest to achor yourself, find the right angle, find relief.

He shakes his head, continues to smear and press against you, and then oh, oh, oh, he’s just there, first a big stretch like from the morning, and it hurts, it burns, but not as bad as being without, and you make a sound like you’ve never made before, feeling a feeling you’ve never felt before and had waited your whole life and a year for. Inside, please, please, inside, alpha. He feeds you himself, makes the heat brighter, fans the flames and soothes them all at once, and oh, it really does hurt and feel so good.

He’s panting like a bull above you, sweating and groaning, and the sounds he makes, the sounds he makes, rough and wounded, like you’re wounding him, like you have the power to wound a great thing like him. “Ain’t that so fucking good?” He coos and croons and pets at you, feeds you and feeds you and feeds you. It’s so big and it splits you, cleaves you wide and forces you into the place and thing you’d lived your whole life waiting to be. “Look at my girl,” he’s saying, “Look how well my little girl takes my big cock in her tiny cunt.”

He pushes a little more, touches a thing inside of you that is swollen and bruised and so sensitive, and, “Oh, you’re in my belly,” you gasp when he finally stops pushing in. You cup your hand over your tummy, pressing down. “I can feel you,” there are tears slipping form the corners of your eyes, and your cunt feels so full it’ll burst or swallow him whole or a little of both, “I can feel you from outside.” You press down harder, rub over the bulge of him inside you; a cock in your belly under your palm.

So good, just like that, he’s murmuring and you close your eyes to better listen to the dip and hum of his voice. “I am. I am – gonna fill your little womb. And we’re gonna do it just like this for now,” he starts to move, “Just half so you’ll let me in all the way.”

“There’s so much,” you hitch, breath quivering, chin trembling, tears leaking, cunt leaking even more.

I know, I know, he rubs your belly, soothes you so well, rocks and rocks and rocks, a cock rocking inside of you. He kisses your jaw and your shoulder and your breast, and then changes something, and you finally open your eyes. He touches something so raw inside of you, something that screams and sings and throbs, and there’s something going swollen inside. He’s so beautiful, silver streaked, creased, lines over his forehead, alongside his eyes, his whole life painted in roadmaps and metallic patterns across him. Other places slicked and wet, red and flushed and sun touched, and you make him look like this, and then he presses the swollen thing again, and it bursts. Your cunt flutters, goes so tight it hurts, forces more tears out of your eyes, you claw at him, your body feels not your own, only his. Oh, fuck yes. Good girl. Fucking come for me. For him, for him, for him.

You shiver and shiver, there’s only hot air and the rocking cock in your belly, the heartbeat inside of you everywhere, and when he finally presses once more, finds the end of the world inside you, he’s all the way in, making a sound that you’ll have to force out of him for the rest of forever; a perfect sound. He tugs you up onto his thighs, sits up, belly to belly and heart to heart and glow to glow, and he fucks you like he said he would. Hard. You finally understand what it means. His cock punches the bruised thing that lives inside, that has you keening a wounded sort of noise, clawing at him, mouth searching for his gland, sliding across his clavicle, up his neck until it’s there, swollen and throbbing and it tastes so, so good you can’t help it when you sink your teeth into the softness of it, the salted rust of his blood sliding over your tongue, down your throat and into your belly like a promise. He makes that glorious sound again, and he fucks you so rough it hurts in only the way fucking a man so much larger than you can hurt. He splits your cunt wide and ruts into you like a beast, and you take it because you want it, because you were made for it, because it’s so right. And you suck on the pierced gland, swallow the taste of him and when a pressure worse than what you could have ever imagined starts to swell within your battered and bruised opening, he pulses and pulses and spills inside of you, filling your womb like he’d said he was going to also.

Then there is his knot, finally, within you. “Again, baby. Come on my knot, sweetheart. You’ll feel so much better if you do.” And he’s right, as you shiver into it once more with only his command to prompt you, his knot swollen like a lock, connecting you together, it soothes the bruise and the heat from the inside out. He rips your teeth from his neck by your hair, swallows your protests, tasting his own blood on your tongue as he comes inside of you, fills you with a heat more potent than anything the glow had ever made you feel.

When you fall together like felled weeds, knot tugging gently, mewl falling from your lips, he soothes you so patiently while he continues to spill inside of you, all plugged up as you are, belly set to burst full of semen. He suckles at your nipples, bites and pinches and makes them hurt, and you can do nothing but let him do as he pleases. And you don’t sleep this time, for the throbbing is so strong inside of you, his soft groans sometimes turned to whimpers so wonderful you need to be awake to listen to them forever.

There’s nothing of the not life anymore, there’s only him here with you.

He does sleep though, after a while, or he goes very still and very quiet. His lashes quiver and his eyes move beneath their lids as if he were watching a dream, and his body steams and shudders, but eventually, the knot softens enough that you can shift and wiggle over him, and his eyes flash open, predator gaze zeroing on the little omega trying to leave her trap, he presses a big hand down on your tailbone, grinding your cunt that feels raw and full and bruised and right against his pelvic bone. “Where do you think you’re goin’?” Voice a deep burr.

You give him a shy, appeasing look, nuzzling his belly, his thick pectoral and shift and shimmy up towards his face, feeling the heavy weight of him fall wetly from your bruised sex. It stings and flutters madly, clenching around the too large space he’d made inside you. Shuffling up on your knees, you peck at his chin, his mouth, suck on his lip. And when you look down between the two of you, there’s a puddle of thick white semen slowly drooling from between your legs onto his belly.

You shuffle down now, licking up the mixture of slick and sweat and come, tasting the crease between his thigh and pelvis. You move lower, and resting your head on his thigh, you mouth at his cock, wet and slobbering, pressing a kiss, tasting the flavor of your cunt.

“I feel so lovely,” you sigh dreamily, pressing another kiss.

He groans low, “A little more tongue– there you go. Oh, fuck– omega, that’s so good.” He threads his fingers through your hair. “It’s because you’re full of everything I just gave you. You’ll need more soon.”

You open your mouth wider, try to swallow him down, enjoying how his come slips out of you, making the tops of your thighs, your ankles you’re sitting on, all sticky wet. All mine, you mumble around his thick length, and his answering laugh is so vital, oh, everything really is so wonderful. He tugs you up by the roots of your hair, jaw hanging wide and spit slick so he can stick two big fingers in there and rub at the slimy surface of your tongue, grunts a hungry sound.

He pushes you back, hand still fisted in your hair to spread you wide and inspect the wreckage he’d left between your thighs. “Lemme see–” he murmurs. “Look at how red and swollen you are, baby. Little cunt’s all fucked open.” He gently scoops his come back inside, smearing it along your cunt.

Ah– Ah– You protest when he presses his fingers inside to feel the slip of his semen along your walls. Poor, baby, he coos. His cock stirs at your little sounds of hurt, soaked as it is, streaked with come and slick and a little pink tinge of blood. The sight makes him fully hard again. “You did so well, first time taking a knot. It’ll be easier next one.” You writhe and arch as he pets your cunt, spreading your legs wider despite your limp sounds of protest. Head rolling back against the blankets, you grip your tits in both hands and squeeze, whimpering at that too.

When you lift your head to look down at them, lifting the two little handfuls in your palms to take in the sight of your chafed, swollen nipples your eyes go wide. “Look’t what you did to them – they hurt now.” And although he’s sure you intend to sound like you’re cross, the moan you end on, the way you’ve begun to rock your hips, tells of different things.

“My poor girl, lemme kiss ‘em.” He stretches over you, taking your hands away to press a barely there kiss to the tip of each breast. “Poor little tits – poor little pussy too, all split open.” And he bends to kiss your blood tinged cunt, the flavor of lost innocence and come on his lips.

He kisses you again, nibbles on your thighs, and your eyes are hazy, fever full, and you sigh a fluttering sound of oh, “Everything’s so lovely,” you say again. “And you’re so beautiful, alpha. We should eat green apples. I love green apples so much.” Delirious, a little nonsensical.

“We will. We will– whatever you want,” he says, but he’s already mounting you again, wedging his fat cock into your tiny, battered hole, enjoying the sound of your half pleasure, half pained keen. And he doesn’t give you the grace of going slow, the rut is full on now – he fucks you into your nest hard, fucks against your womb until he’s filling it again. Only gentles once when you mumble into his ear, slurred and almost drooling, I want to watch it go in and out of me.

And despite his ferocity, the way he uses and abuses your cunt, he knows you need it from the way you open that little blossom mouth and try to swallow him whole, hungry thing. You yank at his beard and pull on his hair and scratch at his skin, bite his gland again and again, and he shocks himself by being nothing like afraid, nothing like uncertain. No, he only feels settled now. Joel only feels himself.

He realizes that he had always needed this, but now, he wants it too. The distinction is stark and important beyond measure like some sort of primordial state of consciousness. He is only himself, dog fight lost and left victorious for it.

You pass the days of your heat and his rut locked on his swollen knot, a steady stream of his come being pumped into you constantly. There’s no way he hasn’t bred you by now, and it makes something pleased and terrifyingly savage swell within him.

He’s forced to shove an ice pack between your legs on the third day, between bouts on his knot, during a moment of clarity for the both of you while he feeds and waters you. But then later, after he’s given you one of the strawberry cream popsicles he’d made and frozen for you the day before you’d arrived, you sit, swollen cock buried deep, slowly rocking back and forth while he watches with an almost sick sort of rapt fascination as you eat the popsicle in little kitten licks, leaning back on his lap ever so often to bare your cunt to his gaze, slick and split wide, red as the strawberries in your sweet treat.

“How is it?” He doesn’t specify which, the popsicle or the cock rocking inside of you, but you peer at him with the brightest and keenest sort of gaze, a look that tells him all he needs to know about himself, all that you see within him which is everything. You flash him a huge, cheesy grin, all the answer he’s getting, and you’ve got a tiny gap between your two front teeth that he finds so, so endearing, and his answering laugh is so vital, so alive, it’s like he steps into himself again after twelve years of vacancy.

And with that bright light of clarity, a blink, blink, you seem to come fully awake for a moment. “Tell me of the things you like,” you order, taking a large bite of the iced treat and pressing your cold mouth to his, passing the flavor of strawberries onto his tongue.

He takes the moment and tastes it, pulls you close, “I like how the fire plays over your skin,” a palm ghosting down the slope of your naked back to the place where you’re connected. “How it makes shadows and shows me that glow inside.”

And as the fever fades, he switches to handling you with carefulness, gently stroking at your sensitive, come-filled pussy, careful of the stretched soreness of your little hole and the bruising around your nipples. With more awareness you remind him that he’s a big, stupid alpha with a big, stupid knot and that you hurt and want more.

But there’s still time and heat to take advantage of, and on the day he knows will be the last day of this animal lust, he stretches you out flat on your belly, his weight completely over your back, and he fucks you prone and immobilized, caged in by his bulging arms, telling you of how you own him now, how he belongs to you, how he’s going to keep you full and happy forever. “Make me come. Clench – good girl. Again,” he orders, and when his knot swells for what he knows will be the last time of this rut, relishing in the last whispers of your heat filled belly, he sniffs through the curtain of your hair and finding the still swollen gland at the nape of your neck, he slowly sinks his teeth into the vulnerable patch, binding your mating.

Dawn peeks over the horizon like a faint suggestion, and you’re married on the cliffside one bitingly cold winter morning, the sea as your witness. Ellie and Dina are there, and they’re your friends now. You have friends, real friends, no more half life, no more half friend.You have friends, and you are important and significant and as vital and alive as Joel is. You’re real, and he helped make you so, yes, but really, you always had been.

You wear flowers in your hair and a dress the color of the sky, and he has mirrors in his eyes, and the two of you are the same. Equal and only yourselves, and you love each other more than anything in only a very true way, nothing soft about it.

When you know you’ll have a baby, he swallows your fear and your worry, marks your gland again as a reminder of all he is, all you are. And when you ask, for you can’t not share with him, “Will they come one day, to check if we did what we were supposed to? To see if we had a baby?”

He tells you, “Yes, they might,” very solemnly.

“What if–” a difficult thing to say out loud, now that you understand the thing you are and the way of the world so well, now that he’s shown you all there is to be shown, “What if they’re an omega like me – will they take them?” Give them their own white box and a not life to be nurtured by instead of a mother.

But like all obvious things, he shares with you, always, only truths. “Never.” And the look in his eyes is so serious, eyes like mirrors, that you know his words are fact. “I’d never let that happen, I swear to you.”

And the glow still comes, and the heat still takes you, but he’s always there now and nature is still an inescapable thing, but the perilous edge is no longer such a danger when you’re protecting each other.

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#HSM fic #vic fic #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #the last of us AU #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader

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roturo · 9 months

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COOL WITH YOU - gojo satoru x f!reader - + 4.5k words

summary: You never though throwing chocolate milk would lead you to being enemies with the popular guy at school, which led you into even a crazier situation.

warnings: smut; unprotected sex, cock warming, dacryphilia, pussy slapping, mating press, finger sucking, oral (f!receiving), marking, degradation kink, slut shaming, edging, teasing, sexual tension, overstimulation. Enemies into idk into lovers. UniversityAU, popular student!gojo satoru, fluff.

TUMBLR IS BASED ON A REBLOG SYSTEM. PLEASE REBLOG MY WORK.

It was a really nice day, really.

Nothing out of the extraordinary, normal classes, normal notes, everything was going great! Nice weather, and even your hair was having a good day!, but lunch time had to come.

You were walking through the cafeteria looking for the table you and your friends usually sit at. Walking with your tray through other people, you were about to make it, until you stumbled and say stumbled for crashed into an almost 2 meter man, food flying everywhere, and if that wasn't enough, your choco milk made a mess on his white t-shirt.

WHY DOESN'T HE WEAR THE COMPLETE UNIFORM?

You felt all the possible stares into you, couldn't even see with who you crashed, way too embarrassed for it. Mumbling a lot of 'sorry, i'm going to pay it for you' 'I can wash it for you, i'm so sorry.' 'I'll buy you a new one.' You finally looked up and saw who it was.

Gojo Satoru. The popular guy in school. Might not be the smartest, but he has good grades. Not much of a troublemaker (he is), has dated at-least half of the girls in this school, and someway he still has a line of girls waiting for his turn.

He was next his best-friend. Suguru Geto, smartest guy in your class, he's more peaceful, just watches from a distance, a cute smirk, hasn't dated half of the girls in school, but still has a long line of girls waiting for a chance.

Your face flushed with embarrassment as she saw that the dark liquid from your spilled bottle had stained his pristine white shirt. Gojo's expression was anything but pleased, and he snapped at you, "Watch where you're going dumbass!"

You tried to apologize, but Gojo had clearly made up his mind about you. From that day on, Gojo wouldn't miss any chance to humiliate you just like you did that day in the cafeteria.

He wouldn't let go of that day, calling you all types of nicknames related to it. ¨Milkie¨ ¨Choco-latte¨ and much more. Mostly throwing your books you had in your arms walking through the halls, always putting milk on your desk when recess was done.

He would often challenge you with difficult questions in class, and you would slowly find yourself doing the same. Days went over and you were now annoyed at his behavior. Who does he think he is? He couldn't treat people like he wanted to!

¨Can you stop?¨ Utahime stopped eating, dramatically putting the fork down. ¨Stop what?¨

¨Stop looking at fucking Gojo Satoru! It’s been like two months and you’re still annoyed at him.¨

Oh god. He's looking back at your table, Utahime said it loud enough so half of the cafeteria could hear. Feeling your face growing hot you looked back at your friend, her face showing how unbothered she is by the annoyed side-eyes you guys were receiving.

¨It's like you got obsessed with him or something! All you do is talk about him, how angry you are about him, how he did this, how he did that, do you like HIM or what?¨

¨Of course NO! I don't like Gojo-...¨

A small cough interrupted the small discussion you were having, looking up for the person who annoyingly stopped you trying to justify why you don't like the Gojo Satoru, was in fact, the Gojo Satoru.

He was standing in all glory in front of your table with his best friend, Geto, which seemed kinda unbothered with this whole ordeal.

You looked like a little kid being caught trying to grab another candy from the bowl after he got his daily one... which made Gojo chuckle.

How cute.

¨I'm sorry ladies for interrupting your chat, but me, and my friend Geto Suguru, wanted to invite you to our upcoming party this weekend. Right Suguru?¨ He nudged Geto, with his annoying smirk, at what Geto just nodded.

You were about to deny the offer, saying you’re not one of his easy girls to smash with, but Utahime was faster than you and said yes to the invitation and lent her phone so they could send her the place and time.

Oh, well, fuck.

Utahime greeted you into her house with her radiant smile, her eyes shining with mischief. "I would’ve killed you if you didn’t come!" she exclaimed, pulling you into her room. "Tonight, you’re going to have a great fuck and forget that annoying asshole!" You rolled your eyes because of her assumption of you liking Gojo.

Utahime couldn't resist the thrill of the invitation, saying it’s ¨an event you have to live at least once at uni.¨ You spent hours preparing yourselves. Mostly, Utahime carefully choosing the perfect outfit and a dash of confidence to match.

You and Utahime arrived at the party, the room buzzed with laughter, music, and vibrant conversations. You’ve been spending the whole night thinking of a way to take revenge on Gojo, and show Utahime proof you don’t like him. You have tried plenty of ways; winning at sports games, not a surprise he’s better than you, but it still pisses you off how irritating he is. You also tried beating him at exams, which somehow you did beat him on them, but somehow he gets more acknowledgment about having a 9 than you having a 10?

Does he fuck the teacher too?

Fuck.

Fuck…

Fuck!

That’s what you need! To fuck Gojo Satoru.

…

Not in that way…

Well, yes. But not him fucking you. You fucking him.

His whole ego is based on how every girl likes him, so… what if you do what he does to the other girls?

Geto greeted the both of you with a smile, offering you something to drink, which you denied, contrary to Utahime. You were having a small chat with your friend and a friend of hers, she was really nice, short haired, not that tall but not that short, she's a friend of Satoru & Suguru apparently… a pretty smile adorning her face while talking with Utahime, her name was Shoko.

And Shoko is really fun, really, but you couldn’t stop from distracting yourself, eyes following the tall frame, going from girl to girl all around the house. It infuriated you how they could be so clueless of the man they’re talking with.

You decided you needed to distract yourself and stop focusing on what he’s doing. Entering the kitchen was really calm, two people chatting while drinking. Preparing yourself a drink, you felt a small push in your shoulder, and it’s like destiny made you to never stop thinking about him, since somehow he was always there.

¨Oops, didn’t see you there.¨ His stupid face, with his stupid smirk.

¨Can’t stop disturbing me for one minute in your entire life?!¨

¨Me? Disturb you? You’re the one who won't stop looking at the other like some obsessed stalker!¨

¨Well, it’s not my fault you keep fooling those girls thinking if they let you fuck them they will be with you at least more than a week before you get bored!¨

He laughed at you, which only made you even angrier. ¨Are you jealous or what?¨

¨I’m not jealous- … don’t. Don’t you dare look at me that way.¨

¨What way?¨

¨Like you want to fuck me.¨

The tension in the room grew stronger, his stupid eyes were having pleasure watching you being angry at him being with other girls. You’re really pretty too, he never took the time to realize that. Maybe it's your fault because of the grembling face you put when you’re around him.

Thank god Suguru came into the room giving you a way out of this situation, calling for Satoru and you.

¨Hey, we need both of you to help us with something back there, Utahime and Shoko are there also. Utahime is really nice, but uhh… she might gotten a little too much drunk…¨

"Do we have to bring her?¨ Gojo said, pointing back at you with his thumb, not even looking at you, just at Geto. ¨You know I hate her."

¨Yes Satoru, it’s her friend who we are talking about.¨

"I'm standing right here, you know..."

"I know." You were about to hit Satoru if it wasn’t that Geto didn’t grab the both of you by the wrist and started walking away.

After leaving a very drunk Utahime in Geto’s room, Shoko staying with her, the two other boys (Most like Geto) invited you to go for some midnight ice-cream around the corner, at which, you had nothing to do, so you accepted the offer, who wouldn’t want ice-cream for free?

The three of you got your ice-cream, you were with Satoru while Suguru was paying for them.

¨Your ice cream looks delicious, let me try.¨

¨We have the exact same ice cream, for god’s sake!¨ Satoru was faster than you and gave a big bite (with no teeth) to your ice-cream, you grumbled at his stubbornness.

¨Hey, no fair! You have more sprinkles than mine!¨ You looked up at his face, finding ice-cream all around his lips. Unconsciously your hand caressed his cheek and with your thumb, you wiped the ice-cream off his mouth. Your finger resting on his lower lip, he slightly opened his mouth giving enough space for your thumb to enter, which it did. His tongue swirled around it, savoring the ice-cream he stole from you. Your eyes never left his and vice versa. His cheeks were slightly pink, his eyes were now a darker shade of blue thanks to his dilated pupils.

His hands found a way to lock between your waist, making you get closer to him. Your thumb left his mouth and slowly got into his chest. He smiled at you. A genuine smile from him. Not an evil trace on it. His eyes squinted a little, which made you also smile.

¨Can y’all believe the old man wanted me to pay for an extra ice-cream we didn’t buy? I stayed like 10 min more trying to explain him we only bought 3.¨

Your face turned pale, as fast as you could, you pushed yourself out of Gojo’s embrace, he awkwardly coughed fixing his hair.

¨Are you guys okay?¨ Suguru looked confused but then looked at you and your melted ice-cream.

¨Oh shit. It melted. Your eyes locked with Satoru for a moment and moved on to the melted ice-cream. Did that really happen?

A week passed and Gojo couldn’t get you off his mind. The moment replaying every day, the feeling of your hand on his cheek never leaving. He was going crazy.

Ever since Utahime and Shoko got closer, that meant hanging out as a group. It somehow got better? Gojo stopped with the bitterness and the hate towards you, it turned more into teasing?, it’s like he’s been feeling cool with you?

It even turned into the both of you teasing each-other light heartly, it was fun.

During a late-night study session at Shoko’s, you and Gojo got into argument from some science topic, you could sense the others were annoyed at the unnecessary pause of studying, leading them into grabbing their phones to go through social media, going for water, or even just start making small drabbles of drawings, knowing they couldn’t do anything about the both of you arguing because of your stubbornness.

Until Utahime snapped, ¨Oh my god, can the both of you just fuck so the tension could leave?!¨ that left the both of you speechless and blankly looking at eachother, red invaded eachother’s face because of how things turned out and how others point of view of the type of relationship the two of you have.

...

... Your walk home was… awkward but nice?

¨Listen. It’s nearing midnight and you're a female walking the streets alone, at least let me walk you home? As much as you annoy me I’d rather you not get murdered¨ You take in his words slowly nodding in agreement as you cross your arms, ¨fine.. nice to hear that you don’t want me dead.¨

So that’s how the both of you ended walking together to your house. It was a weird bonding experience you didn’t think you needed.

¨Wow you can actually be a sweetheart this time, what happened to the boy who was arguing with me today is pluto is still considered a planet?¨

You say lightheartedly but turn to glare in his direction anyway, watching as he rubs the back of his neck with a chuckle.

¨Yeah that was pretty immature. to be fair we’re just as bad as each other ̈

You nodded in agreement it really is a game of back and forth trying to outdo each other. You felt a sudden wetness on your face sticking your hand out and watching as your palms filled with water capturing the rain droplets within, the rain poured without any mercy but thankfully you could see your house just a little down the street, with the nice moment you were having with Gojo you bravely grabbed his hand with a giggle making a bolt towards your house, to your surprise Gojo tightened his grip running beside you as the rain soaked you both.

Catching your breaths as you stood on your porch, sheltering yourselves from the rain, breathlessly laughing as you straightened yourself looking up at Gojo who was just as drenched.

¨Who saw that coming?¨ He smiles pulling lightly on your hand that still stayed secured in his, you were only inches away from each other but the cool breeze and crackling of the thunder held a mysterious mood that drew you into him.

In what should have been forbidden your lips touched, tasting the water that ran along your face seeping into your mouth as you reconnected with Gojo’s pretty lips, it didn’t last long as a large gust of wind interrupted causing you to shiver and unintentionally find comfort in Gojo, pressing against his chest. You could feel his hand rubbing gently against your upper back as he stared down calmly, you finally pulled away from him jiggling with your front door and popping it open with just a twist of your key, frowning your eyebrows slightly as you turn to look at the soaking wet boy again watching him turn towards the rain and stepping closer as if he was about to make a run for it.

¨You don’t have to leave.. it looks pretty hectic out there, i can dry your clothes and you can leave when it’s safer, if that’s what you want?¨ Gojo seemed conflicted a hint of hesitation could be seen but his expression was mostly unreadable, he took one last look out towards the street before turning on his heels, walking into your house with a smile, ¨That seems like a better idea.. thanks.¨

You really didn’t know what you were thinking letting Gojo into your house but it felt right, ¨Your... hoodie¨, you say holding your hand out towards him.¨I can put it in the dryer¨ Gojo paused for a moment looking down, his lips shaping into a straight line as his cheeks puffed out. ¨I’m not wearing an undershirt¨ You let out a light oh before making your way into the laundry room, ¨here! You can throw a towel over yourself if you feel uncomfortable!¨ You yell out to him, turning around to be greeted with Gojo’s bare chest, ¨It’s fine I don’t need a towel¨ He plainly says handing you his hoodie, you quickly nod taking it and heading over to the dryer.

¨What about my pants?¨ You hear him say as you open the lid. ¨What about them?¨ You question turning around to see his slightly wet jeans, ¨They’re not that wet but I can do them too.. got that towel?¨, Gojo let’s out a chuckle unzipping his jeans.

¨I’m not going to be naked, I do have underwear on after all, do you want me to wear a towel?¨ You went silent slowly extending your arm and making a gimme motion with your hand, ¨I don’t care it’s your decision¨, you say sounding a bit flustered, looking away nervously Gojo stripped himself of his jeans leaving him in his underwear. You throw his clothes into the dryer freezing suddenly before closing the lid, realising your own saturated clothes as you played with the hem of your shirt, “fuck it”, you whispered ripping your top from over your head, your pants following in hot pursuit letting them join in with Gojo’s clothes.

The dryer light blinked on watching as the session started not daring to turn around as you knew Gojo was still very much present, feeling a sense of embarrassment as you stood away from him semi nude, the only thing you didn’t know is that he was much closer than you thought feeling his hand smooth over your arm a slight tingling sensation could be felt as he pressed up against your bare back, ¨Aren’t you cold?¨, he said sliding his mouth near your ear, you slowly nodded feeling your words getting stuck in your throat, ¨I mean no, not really¨ You crackled out quickly correcting yourself, your whole body was heating up as the butterflies in your stomach did multiple backflips, ¨Well I am baby¨, you let out a rigid breath feeling your pussy contract within itself at the sudden nickname, you had no idea he could make you feel this way, ¨How are you gonna get warm?¨ You softly breathe out goosebumps arising from your skin as Gojo rubbed up and down your sides placing a few kisses against your neck, ¨I have an idea if you’d spread your legs a little?¨ You obeyed his words like a dog, running on your own horny adrenaline.

¨Are you okay with this?¨ You nodded, feelin his fingers come in contact with your pussy pushing your panties to the side as he swiped his pointer finger through your folds, he stopped clutching his hands roughly on your hips, his forehead laying on your shoulder blade.

¨How? You’re so wet, I barely even touches you.¨ Gojo said sensually pulling your hips towards him as he rubbed his hard against your ass, ¨I thought I’d have to do a little more but I think this is enough.. ready?¨

He kissed up your back adjusting himself a bit, ¨Ready?... for what?-¨, You struggled to say the last syllables as Gojo pushed the tip of his cock into you wrapping an arm around your waist and the other holding onto the dryer in front of you, pulling you upwards so he can angle your entrance just right so he can fully fit into you comfortably.

A gasp escaped you quickly holding onto the side of his thigh as he stayed still, the feeling of his long cock deep inside you made you wriggle pulling your heat away from him as he replants himself, the heat off Gojo’s chest and stomach burned into your back, ¨Now that’s warm¨, Gojo spoke, ¨And it’s tight too¨, He slightly giggled out resting his head on your shoulder.

¨Is it uncomfortable?¨ He quietly spoke in concernment Gojo’s worries fading as he finally feels you melting into him, ¨No it’s good¨ You say sheepishly feeling the slight shake of his arm as he continued to hold onto the dryer, another kiss being littered against your upper back upon hearing you.

It’s beyond weird getting this intimate with him but there always was some lingering sexual tension though. Nothing is really happening as you both stood in silence while Gojo kissed your body, leaving hickeys everywhere. Your body temperatures rising quickly but soon you started to feel Gojo’s movements, he awkwardly pumped himself into you stopping and starting his motions as he fought his urges, ¨Satoru?... If you’re going to fuck me just do it, this is nice and all but I know what we both want¨

You say trying to look at the boy who was still resting his head on your shoulder, you saw him perk up displaying a gummy like smile, ¨If that’s what you want who am I to deny you?¨

He jolted you forward banging you flat against the dryer giving you a sharp thrust as he grabbed a hold of your hair, bringing you back so he could kiss you, ¨You really want your enemy fucking you? Want everyone to know how of a cockslut you are? That Utahime was right? filthy.¨

You hum in pleasurable agreement a cheeky giggle escaping you as Gojo tilts your head to the side giving himself access to your neck, ¨Enemy? Do you really want to be calling yourself that when you started this? I think you’ve always wanted to do this, you love me¨ You say daringly, feeling incredibly unsatisfied as he pulled himself out of you spinning you around and finally coming face-to-face with him, Gojo’s hair now completely dry but nothing changed about his smirk.

¨You don’t need this” He unclips your bra way too easily wiggling it in front of your face like a trophy

“Don’t try putting this act on me, you’ve wanted my dick ever since you met me, those looks you don't give them to everyone.. probably why you love me so much ̈ You push him away playfully, covering your breasts and snatching your bra from him attempting to walk passed, Gojo re-attaches himself to you pulling you into a back hug as he kisses you roughly, biting your lower lip dragging slightly out making you whine.

“Don’t be stubborn, the laundry room is nice but why don’t you show me the bedroom?” You lean into him with a satisfied smile spreading across your face as you had every intention in bringing him to your bed, ¨Where do you think I’m taking you?¨

Nothing was stopping you, both fully naked in bed as Gojo’s face found refuge in between your legs licking up and down your slit and sucking on your sensitive clit, making infinity signs between them, holding your thighs apart to stop you from caging him in with each spasm of your body, “I’m gonna-“, you moaned out Gojo humming at your words removing his mouth from your heat and licking his two fingers as he dives them straight into your soaking pussy pumping in and out, “You’re gonna what?” He smirks, making a gesture of using his free hand to put on his ear to sign like he didn’t listen to you. Watching as you gasp at the sudden intrusion his smirk grew larger. ¨Oh! There! Satoru please I-¨

He stopped, smiling proudly and taking in your watery eyes, his smile soon turning into a sarcastic pout, ¨Aw, that’s cute¨ He laughed, pushing you flat against the bed as you leaned up to try and hit him, him being faster slapping your pussy.

¨Oh stop it! you’ll get what you want later slut, look what you’ve done to me¨ He looks down at his hard and angry cock begging for attention, rolling his fingers around his shaft as he covers his member in your juices.

¨Open your legs wider” Gojo hovers above you angling himself at your cunt, finally slipping back into your wet cunt, wasting no time in hammering into you giving you no chance in preparing for his speed, quickly wrapping your arms around his neck as he mercilessly rocks you back and forth but as Gojo lifted each of your legs up putting you into a mating press, which made the thrusters even go deeper inside you, turning you into a beautiful moaning mess.¨Ah! Look at you, you’re beautiful¨

Gojo groans out closing his eyes and throwing his head back in an attempt not to bust, picking up the pace as he fucks you raw diving his face into your neck as he concentrates feeling his heavy panting on your neck.

¨Don’t stop this time¨ You barely get out feeling your body getting to it’s highest point again, your back arching immediately as Gojo’s fingers had sneakily approached your clit rubbing your clit at lightning speed. You couldn’t breathe your legs spasming out and clenching around Gojo so hard he could barely move, your moans turning into a pleasurable scream as you reached your orgasm falling limp as you continued to pulsate around Gojo’s cock.

He isn’t done yet. Taking in sharp breaths as he chases after his own high, you whine slightly from sensitivity but you weren’t going to stop him, thrusting a few more times till he pulls out in quickly, pumping himself in his hand as he aims his load on your stomach, moaning sweetly as he shoots his cum all over your lower half swiping his thumb over his head picking up some of the white substance and shoving it into your slightly agape mouth, ¨How does it taste sweetheart?¨ You start sucking his thumb without any hesitation making a loud popping sound as you pull his hand away.¨Delicious¨, you smile.

With a satisfied chuckle Gojo collapsed onto your bed watching as he reached for anything to help clean yourself up with, ¨I don’t regret doing that you know…¨ He quickly says as he wiped up his mess, ¨I would’ve preferred if you cum somewhere a little less messy¨ You raised an eyebrow, ¨I meant having sex with you.. I’d do it again¨ You smiled, feeling the excitement run through you with just the thought of having sex with Gojo again ¨I’d like that too¨ He went a little quiet intensely watching you, getting closer to you, his lips crashed yours. This time it wasn’t rushed at all, he was moving his lips slowly, capturing every moment of it. Taking a small moment to breathe, he started kissing you again, then giving small pecks all around your face which made you giggle. He finally stopped with getting himself around your arms, cuddling you.

He called out your name at which you just answered with a small sound out of tiredness.

¨I think I love you.��

#gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutus kaisen #smut #gojo satoru x reader smut #gojo satoru x you #pls dont let this flop

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patrollingboston · 2 months

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141 Beach Episode // Cod x Reader

You know how in every good show there's a beach episode? Yeah this is theirs.

The 5 of you were sat in a truck with the aircon blasting. Price was dramatically fanning himself with his boonie hat. With one hand placed on the steering wheel. You had just finished a week-long mission and it left you all somewhere on the east coast with the sun beating down with no mercy. You were so uncomfortable, dressed head to toe in full gear practically sweltering in it.

“Not used to this bloody heat.”

Soap sighed placing a hand to his forehead to relieve his brow of sweat.

“I’ve got the aircon.”

Gaz smirked, of course he was fine he was sat in the front seat with cold air blasting directly onto him. You were squished between Ghost and Soap, plus he always wore a sunhat and sunglasses even in the rain.

“How ghost isn’t a puddle yet I have no clue.”

You stated, glancing over at ghost who was dressed in all black with his mask still pinned down onto his face yet he didn’t show a single sign of discomfort.

“Can you even breathe? Isn’t it like being trapped under a blanket?”

“I can breathe fine.”

He grunted not sounding amused by your questions.

“Look at tha’ ain’t it a pretty view.”

Soap said tapping on the truck window, everyone’s eyes glanced to meet where he was pointing. You were greeted with the sight of a gorgeous white sandy beach with the clearest sea water you had ever seen with families playing in the sand and surfers utilizing the waves.

“The things I would give to dive in those waves.”

You said groaning, resting your head back in the seat knowing you had a hot and uncomfortable 6+ flight ahead of you to get back to base in England not to mention the drive to even get to the airport.

“Can’t we stop for a bit? The missions all done and dusted, surely, they don’t need us back that hastily.”

Gaz asked turning to face the captain with a cheesy grin plastered across his face.

“I could use a pint. I’m sweating like a fucking pig. We only have a few hours but I think we could all use a break.”

“Make that two.”

Ghost’s gruff voice chimed in his mood perking up at the promise of a cold beer.

“I think everyone here wants a bloody pint.”

A few moments later the 5 of you were all stood on the beach boardwalk, you removed your boots and placed them by the railing before stepping onto the soft, warm sand.

“I have never ever stepped on sand so soft oh my-“

You wondered how long it had been before you stood barefoot on a beach. Probably not since you were a child on a day trip with your family.

“Shit the sands a bit hot ain’t it?”

Soap said as she stepped onto the sand beside you, shifting from foot to foot as he complained about the temperature once again.

“I’ll go grab us some drinks, find a spot I’ll come find you all.”

Price said before stepping up the stairs and walking towards the crowded beach bar on the boardwalk.

Ghost, who was still dressed fully in his gear stomped behind you scouting the beach for a place to sit like it was the toughest decision he ever had to make.

“Here.”

He said pointing to a peaceful square of the beach, not too far from the shore.

You all placed your backpacks down and set a towel down for yourself. Ghost was wrestling with the beach umbrella to get it stood up.

“Whose going for a swim?”

Soap said with a huge smile on his face as he stripped off his t shirt leaving him in his cargo shorts.

“You go first mate, tell us how cold it is eh?”

Gaz joked, pushing soap slightly closer the seafront.

“Don’t be a pussy.”

“I’ll go!”

You said, removing your jacket and vest leaving you in a tank top and some old cargo shorts dumping by your backpack them away from the shore so the waves didn’t steal them.

You jogged down to the water front stood beside Soap and Gaz.

“Whose going to make the first move then?”

You all stood in a line, hands on hips inspecting the water as it broke in front of you. As you spoke Soap dived headfirst into a wave like a goofy dolphin. He stuck his head up like an seal, running his hands through his mohawk and wiping the salty water off his face.

“Is it cold?”

You shouted through the crashing waves.

“Nah, its refreshing.”

He shouted back before running through the water back onto the shore to stand beside the two of you.

“I don’t know if I’m that hot anymore you know-“

You said backing off after feeling the ‘refreshing’ water splash over your feet and ankles sending little shockwaves through you.

With that statement Soap placed two hands on your waist and lifted you up into the air before placing you over his shoulder like a fireman would carrying someone out a burning building.

“DON’T YOU DARE SOAP, I MEAN IT.”

You screamed thumping his back in fear as he stepped into the freezing ocean once again. Gaz stood on the shore filming the entire situation laughing at your misfortune. Ghost sat watching from afar under a big shady umbrella pint in hand with Price sat beside him reading something, smoking one of his cigars as per usual.

“Ready?”

Soap teased as he began to hoist you up even further before throwing you into the sea with a huge splash. The cold water shocked you at first but after a few seconds, soap was right. It was kind of refreshing. You popped your head up out the water with a frown.

“I hate you asshole.”

“You weren’t going to get in I had no choice-“

You pushed a big wave of water his way aiming for his face secretly hoping the salt would burn his eyes.

“GAZ GET IN.”

Gaz stepped into the water with haste joining you and soap.

“We going play mermaids or what?”

You asked with a chuckle as the 3 of you treaded water in a circle.

“I would prefer to drown Soap.”

Gaz said before dunking soaps head back under the water.

About an hour later you sat on the beach wrapped in your towel, drying off in the sun.

“Been a while since I’ve been able to relax on a beach.”

Price spoke, he was leant back on a sun lounger his hat placed over his face shielding his eyes from the setting sun.

“Thought you were asleep old man.”

Ghost chuckled.

“Can we take a photo?”

You asked bringing out your super old digital camera you dragged around on every single mission.

The 5 of you gathered in closer. Gaz throwing up a peace sign. Soaps arm slung around ghost and a beer held loosely in the other. Captain Price sat up placing his hands on your shoulders. Your smiles were all wide (you would like to believe ghost’s was too) as the light of the setting sun glowed on your faces.

That day was a good day.

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probably-writing-x · 1 year

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Blushing Boy

Drew Starkey x Reader

Summary: There were few things that made Drew Starkey lose his confidence, in fact, perhaps only one could truly ever do it; you. He didn’t know how, or why, but you just seemed to have that goddamn effect on him.

Warnings: Nothing besties, just fluffy as heck

Author’s Note: Thank you so so much for the love on my other post, I just had to post this one too !! Please please send in any requests you have my angels <3

Not my gif

You were just about nearing the end of press for Outer Banks Season 3, and all bases had been covered - you’d done interviews to see how well you knew your cast mates, ones looking at scenes from the show, and, of course, the puppy interview. Today was your last day, though all of you were split up in different places, on different projects, and so the last day of interviews would be done over zoom. This was your first experience working on the show, having come in to play Rafe’s love interest as the start of the season. Thankfully, the fans had fallen in love with you, and especially with your storyline with Drew. So much so, in fact, that they’d started to ship you two as actors as well, adoring every moment that they saw you spend together. The two of you were just friends, but you can’t say you didn’t find it amusing whenever theories were made. And, being honest, some of the edits did make you two look cute.

That was your side of things, anyway. Drew had fallen for you at the same rate that Rafe had fallen for your character. He wanted to see you every morning you started work, waiting to catch sight of you on set. He wanted to film all of his scenes with you, watching in awe whenever you acted. He was mesmerised whenever he saw you at events, amazed by you from the red carpets to the earliest of mornings. Drew felt like a schoolboy around you, stumbling over his words, blushing at prolonged eye contact, ears pricking up at the sound of your name. And it only got worse the more he saw of you.

“Okay, thank you guys all for joining me today,” The interviewer begins, smiling widely into the screen, “We’ve got Madelyn, Chase, Madison, Rudy, Jonathon, Carlacia, Drew and (Y/N), the cast of season three of Outer Banks, now streaming on Netflix. How are you guys doing?”

“I’m good,” Madelyn smiles.

“I’m tired, I flew back from Paris today and I’m so jetlagged,” Madison laughs.

“Okay, we’ll start off with a question for Chase, how has it been with the new additions to the cast this season - with Carlacia and (Y/N). How does that fit in with the dynamic of you guys working together?”

Chase leans closer to his microphone and speaks, “You know I think we got really lucky again to work with another great group of people, we all get on so well and these two just fit in perfectly with that, and it makes it so easy to go to work when you’re with such a good bunch.”

“Amazing, and (Y/N), what was your experience like being on set?”

You shift in your seat, glancing at all of the faces on screen, “Like Chase said, it was just ideal getting to work with everyone, it’s like being on one long holiday all working together, you’re out in the sun everyday, you’re on the water, you’re doing stunts, it was just such a great experience. And I was so lucky to get to share the screen with Drew, he makes it so easy to come into work everyday and, I mean, it’s not exactly hard to pretend to fall in love with him.”

You glance at him on the screen and the way his eyes seem so transfixed as you speak, like he holds onto every syllable one at a time. He’s wearing a purple t-shirt that brings out his eyes and his hair is messy in that sort of perfect way it always was.

“And Drew, what was it like to be working with (Y/N) so closely?”

“Yeah, I mean,” He coughs over his words, “It was great, (Y/N) is just perfect to work with, I couldn’t have asked for anyone better. She’s so talented, and kind and supportive as an actress and she just made me want to get up every day and come into work.”

You’re sure your cheeks heat with the vulnerability of what he has said. His are bright red too, and you’re relieved for a moment to share the same feeling even across the screen.

A few more questions are asked, Rudy explains about how many injuries he managed to pick up on set and Jonathon tells an embarrassing story about you and Madelyn from the wrap party. And then attention falls back to you and Drew.

“So, whilst I’ve got you guys here, I have to ask Drew and (Y/N) about the rumours that have been going around about you two, can you tell me anything the fans will want to hear?”

You laugh, slightly allowing yourself a bit more time before you figure out what to say, “You know, these things are inevitable when you play a couple on a show. But I think we take it as a compliment if anything, at least it was convincing enough for people to believe us, you know? Right Drew?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Drew chuckles dryly, “I’m just glad they know that we don’t hate each other.”

“Are you blushing Starkey?!” Rudy exclaims, coming closer to the screen.

Drew laughs and looks away, biting the tip of his tongue between his teeth, “Shut it Pankow.”

Everyone laughs but it’s as if you can feel all eyes on the two of you, and in that moment, all you want it for him to be there with you to share the attention. For him to be close enough that your hand could brush his, your eyes could focus solely on Drew’s, your laugh in rhythm with his. And, in that moment, perhaps for the first time, you realise that maybe those edits had realised something before you had.

“Okay, well it’s been great speaking to you guys, thank you so much for joining me,” The interviewer finishes up, closing off before telling you that you’re all done and you can log off from the call.

You shut your laptop and pull out your phone to see notifications already bursting through. They’re all from the groupchat you had with the other girls.

Oh my god did you see his face?

Are you kidding me rn??? That boy is in love with you

I’ll never forgive you if you don’t date Starkey fr

You laugh, fingers hovering over the buttons as you try to figure out a response. You wanted to tell them that they were being stupid, that there was no reason for them to think like that. But you can’t bring yourself to lie to them.

You swipe away from that chat, scrolling the short way down to where Drew’s chat with you was. The last thing he’d sent you was a fan made video of the two of you, a video from set where he had you on his shoulders in the pool and both of you fell under.

When you go to text him, he’s already typing.

And this time, you’re the one that’s blushing.

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someforzari · 2 months

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I saw this tiktok that said cats are possessive especially to their mate and it got me thinking abt cat hybrid! Soobin.

Cat hybrid!soobin who hates it when you spend hours infront of that laptop instead of paying attention to him. He swears that laptop is his worst enemy.

Cat hybrid!soobin who can't help but get but get flustered and run off whenever you coo at him for being jealous of your plushies. He wants to rip them up but that would make you sad. (He hates seeing you sad :(

Cat hybrid!soobin who forces his way into your room at night. When he knows your sleeping, licks your boobs and snuggles against them. You waking up to soobins ears poking out from the neckline of your t-shirt.

Cat hybrid!soobin who is possessive by nature, making sure you don't spell of other hybrids when you come back from work and when you do, he pouts until you shower so he can lick and scent you to mark his territory.

Cat hybrid!soobin who gets the most aggressive heats ever since he's been taken in by you. You dont know why and none of the cat hybrids you bring for him do the trick, he refuses to even look at them. Asking you to just help him every time.

Cat hybrid!soobin who promises it's the last time when your hand is pumping around his cock. But you and him both know it's the never gonna be the last time because you give in everytime.

Cat hybrid!soobin who eventually gets tired of your hand and wants more. Breaking into your room at night, as per usual, rubbing his tail on your waist and legs as he innocently licks and prods at your pussy. Waking you up when he fails at entering you gently, you try to assert dominance and get him off but with the way he's pounding you, and promising to behave after he's done and that he's been such a good boy.

Cat hybrid!soobin who gives amazing aftercare, holding you by the waist as you pet his head. Telling you how much he's wanted to do that for years and how he never fucked the hybrids because he always loved you. Promising you that he'll be a good kitty and take care of you, how he loves you even if you think of only as your pet. :(

#txt #txt post #soobin #txt smut #soobin smut #soobin hard hours

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miniwheat77 · 2 months

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Lavender. (Ghost x Reader.)

!Cute, Simon being protective, blood, military stuff, you know the deal. No minors!

I went with lavender because the colors on here are limited. This is not edited. This was a request and you can find that here.

Lavender is the smell that Ghost awoke to that morning. His head pounded and he felt a dull pain in his abdomen. He didn’t understand what was going on or where he was. He was just about to start pulling the cords off of himself when you came in, clipboard in hand. “Hey, you’re awake.” You smile. Ghosts lips part slightly. He can still feel his balaclava on his face thank god. You’re very stunning. “Who are you?” He asks. “My name is Y/N. I’m a combat medic. One of your mates said you’d been shot and called for evacuation, we were the closest military base.” You smile. “They uh.. they took your mask off but I put it back on. It might be a little crooked.” You laugh. “Thank you.” He’s quiet. “Hey LT” Soap appears behind you. So that’s who called for evac.

Lavender makes him think about that military base with you. He’s always drawn back to you, night and day. He doesn’t know where the smell came from, maybe from somewhere outside or an air freshener of some kind. But anytime he smells it, he thinks of you. He thinks about how sweet and gentle you were. Reassuring him. You helped him fix his mask, adjusting it on his face and he let you. Not flinching away as your fingertips brushed across his face. Johnny watched as it happened. His eyes looked up at you as you adjusted it. Johnny couldn’t believe it.

Lavender happens to be the color of fabric he’s got in his hands when Captain Price tells him that there will be a new medic joining them on base. A little birdie told Captain Price about how well you had done and how you would make a great part of the team. Johnny smiled when he heard the news. Watching Ghost stiffen. Ghost couldn’t believe his ears. You would no longer be a memory, but a constant in his life. Ghost feared that he would get attached and something would go horribly wrong. But the smell of lavender in the morning seemed to soothe him of all of those concerns.

Lavender is where he dreams of you. He sees you walking through the massive field of purple flowers. When he’s daydreaming about you on base, eyes following your every move, he can’t help himself. You would look so pretty. Anytime he sees the color or smells it, you invade his mind like a plague. When you officially start, you approach him first. Asking him how he’s doing, if he’s recovering well. Getting enough rest, drinking enough water. Johnny can see it in his eyes when he looks at you. Usually Ghost has dark, harsh eyes. But when he looks at you they soften and he’s got adoration behind them.

Lavender is the smell of the air freshener he sees you setting down in the watch tower. You’d been filling in for Soap and you were complaining about the smell, how everything always smells musty and old. He finally understands why the smell follows you everywhere you go. “It’s not my favorite scent but it’s far better than what we’re working with now.” You mumble. Cracking open the little pot. It’s clearly meant for a car. “They sold them in bulk at the store by the other military base and it’s the only kind they had. I was desperate.” You smile. “It’s not so bad.” He mumbles. He watches you in adoration as you move around the watch tower, tidying it up. The more you were around, the harder he fell.

Lavender fills his senses everywhere he goes. He hovers around you like a lost puppy all the time. He notices a few things about you. Like how your socks are lavender and sometimes when your bra strap pokes through your shirt when you lean just right is also purple. He doesn’t know if it’s your favorite color. But it’s what he uses to associate you. You’re tidying up the infirmary when he finally decides enough is enough. You’re folding sheets when he approaches you. “Y/N?” He asks. You turn around and don’t have even a second to react before his lips are on yours. When he pulls away and doesn’t have his mask on, you’re in complete shock. Your lips are slightly parted and your eyes are wide. He cups your face and makes you look at him.

Lavender is the color of the outside of the card Johnny sends you. It’s got purple flowers and a purple background. He’s upset he missed it, but he was there in spirits. Military doesn’t always allow for time off. You use a magnet to stick the congratulatory card to your fridge. “Too bad he missed it, hm?” You turn to look at Ghost. “Ah, he’ll be here soon enough. When he’s off we can’t get rid of him.” Ghost laughs, pulling you into him. He takes another look at the wedding ring on your hand. “We’ll go out for drinks and he’ll forget all about it.” You laugh. He leans in to kiss you.

Lavender sheets are what your baby lays on. The entire task force watches over her in her crib. Mesmerized by the fact that the Lieutenant now had a baby with the girl that saved his life all those years ago. They watch her sleep peacefully. Seeing a new life when all they see is death is a blessing they’ll never fully get to appreciate. “Congratulations you two. I’m glad we were able to fly out to meet her.” Captain Price smiles. You smile back and he gives you a hug. “She’s so precious. I just can’t believe it.” Johnny looks over her. Sniffling as he tries to hold back the tears, but he’s losing. “You’re such a sap Johnny.” Ghost laughs, patting his back. “Of all of the people I expected to end up together you’re who I least expected.” Gaz laughs. Seeing Ghost wrap an arm around your back. Pulling you closer to him. “Yeah. It’s crazy how things ended up huh? Gotta say I wouldn’t trade it for the world.” He laughs.

#call of duty mw2 #cod mw2 #soap mw2 #captain john price #ghost mw2 #price mw2 #captain price #johnny soap mactavish #ghost fanfiction #ghost call of duty #simon ghost riley

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avatar-anna · 9 months

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Baby Mine

or just young dadrry being a dad

Young Dad! Harry x Young Mom! Reader

Reality struck Harry in the face when he realized Y/n was showing.

The text he got from Y/n saying she was pregnant? Mind-blowing, but also a little surreal. The conversations he had with his parents and management? An out of body experience. But seeing Y/n with a baby bump for the first time, with his baby? His knees nearly buckled from the stark realization that this was actually happening.

He was going to be a dad.

It was a terrifying thought. Harry was still a kid himself—in all the ways that mattered, anyway. He played video games with his mates, he stayed out late on the weekends, and it felt like just yesterday that he'd gotten his driver's license. He could barely successfully cook pasta, let alone take care of his own child.

And Y/n, the girl he'd only known for a short couple months. The girl he really liked to the point where he still talked to her even after his trip to LA was over, she was here with him, on tour, walking around in his hotel room in one of his t-shirts, her stomach stretching the soft material just enough to be noticeable.

"I thought we could have dinner together," she said, coming over to where Harry was still holding vigil by the door. "I was craving Mexican and I remembered you saying you liked tacos, so I did a little exploring, and voila."

His eyes darted over Y/n's shoulder, and there were in fact various Mexican dishes wrapped up in foil packaging. It smelled good too, but it wasn't quite enough to pull Harry from his stupor.

"I...I'm meeting someone. The boys. For dinner," he said.

It wasn't quite enough to pull his head out of his ass apparently, either.

"Oh."

Y/n blushed, her gaze flickering away from his. Harry felt like a dick, especially since it wasn't true. But he freaked out. He was freaking out. Playing house—or hotel—with a girl he barely knew and pretending it was perfectly normal for them to prepare to have a baby together was too much. All of a sudden, it was all too much.

"Have—Have fun, then. I'll probably head back to my room, I guess."

It was painfully awkward, but Harry didn't know how to make it better. So, like the grown adult he wasn't, he mumbled a reply and skirted around Y/n to set his duffle bag down before mumbling his goodbyes and leaving again.

He was gone for maybe an hour. While he was gone, he walked around aimlessly, letting himself get lost in an unfamiliar city. And in all that walking, he gave himself time to think.

Harry knew he'd been an ass. Y/n hadn't done anything wrong, and knowing that he disappointed her made him upset. Because the truth was, he really liked her. She shared his stupid sense of humor, she liked the music he liked, she had a cute little birthmark on her right shoulder that Harry couldn't help but feel compelled to kiss whenever he saw it. She was beautiful and smart and outgoing.

And now she was having his baby.

They were both to blame for that. Both of them had been careless that particular night, but Y/n had been clear to Harry when she told him about her being pregnant. "I want to have it, but I'm also not going to force you to have it with me," she'd told him when they eventually had a phone conversation. "I don't, like, expect anything from you, but I just didn't think it would be right if I kept this a secret from you."

"How did your parents take it?" Harry had asked because her voice contained a steely nerve that was deflecting non-existent judgement.

"Not great, but they'll come around. Eventually. I hope."

She'd said the last part so quietly, as if she wasn't truly sure her parents would actually accept the fact that their daughter was pregnant.

"I want to help," he blurted.

Y/n had looked at him with wide eyes, and a pang of guilt lanced through him at her surprise. She'd genuinely thought he'd leave her high and dry.

"Help?"

"I—I want to be a part of this, or help you raise it—the baby. I want to help. Like we're a team—Not a team. Like a—"

"A team. I like that."

Harry had been glad to be put out of his misery, though to his credit, he never imagined ever having this conversation, and he at least hadn't cried yet.

"You do?"

"Yeah. I think family is too much right now," Y/n said. "But a team...a team looks out for each other. Makes each other better."

So they were a team, though clearly Harry had been dropping the ball recently.

He was just...scared. Terrified. But he could only imagine what Y/n was thinking, how she was feeling. Since she'd joined him on tour, they talked about everything but the baby. Whether that was conscious or subconscious on either of their parts, Harry wasn't sure, but he knew they couldn't skirt around the subject forever. When he first told his mum about Y/n being pregnant, Harry insisted that he could do this, that he was grown enough to raise a baby. He wasn't exactly sure how true that statement was, but one thing he did know was that he could do much better than he was now.

When he got back to the hotel, Y/n was spread out along the plush sofa, eyes closed and arm resting idly on her belly. Harry wasn't so scared at seeing the bump this time around. In fact, a part of him was a little excited.

Y/n startled a little when Harry knelt by her side, her eyes bleary and a little red. "Sorry. I was gonna go, but I sat down for a moment and—"

"Nothing to be sorry for," Harry interrupted. "I'm sorry, actually. I was kind of an ass earlier."

Shaking her head, she said, "We don't owe each other anything. It's not like we're—"

"But I want to. I know things have been a little awkward, but I like you, Y/n. A lot. That hasn't changed."

"Really?" Y/n asked, and Harry felt bad when she sounded so unsure.

"Really. We...obviously didn't expect this to happen, but I want this. With you. Even if we are a little young and out of our depth here."

Y/n laughed. "Try a lot."

Harry grinned, resting his hand over hers where she was still holding her belly. "But we'll learn. Together. We're a team, right?"

Her eyes softened then. She ran a hand through his curls, the touch delicate but comforting, and Harry couldn't help but lean into her touch. "Yeah. We're a team."

They stayed like that for a minute, maybe two, but Harry eventually straightened, his grin widening as he said, "Right then. We should welcome the newest member of our team, shouldn't we?"

Y/n giggled as Harry shuffled around until he was face to face with Y/n's stomach. He lifted her shirt gently, his breath catching when he saw the baby bump up close.

"Hello there...baby. I'm Harry. Your dad," he said, only feeling a little silly. "You don't have a name yet, but I just wanted you to know that I love you, and your mum loves you, and even though we're a little on the young side, we're gonna take care of you the best we can. And so will your uncles."

"That was sweet, H," Y/n said, her fingers tracing the side of his cheek. "And...I do have a name in mind."

"You do? I didn't know that."

Y/n gave him a smile that felt like she was teasing him. "Because I'm telling you now. I've been testing it out in my head for a few days."

If Harry thought the baby bump made all of this real, talking about potential names would definitely do that. But whether he was ready or not, this was happening.

"Alright. Hit me with it."

A small smile creeped onto Y/n's face. "Simone."

"Simone," Harry repeated, trying it out for himself. "How'd you land on Simone?"

Y/n shrugged casually, but Harry knew that she put thought into it, that this name meant something to her. "It's pretty, and, I don't know, we talked about Nina Simone on our first date. It seemed right."

Thinking about their first proper date gave Harry butterflies. He remembered how nervous he was to go out with Y/n, spending an embarrassing amount of time picking out the right clothes and fixing his hair. But when he actually met her at the spot they agreed on, all his nerves went away, and he spent the whole date marveling at the fact that he was on a date with Y/n and all the things they had in common and how he didn't want it to end.

"It's perfect," Harry agreed, then bent his head to kiss Y/n's belly. "Hi, Simone. I can't wait to meet you."

A few months later

"Do you want to hold her?"

Y/n was in her hospital bed, hair hanging limp around her shoulders. She looked tired beyond belief, but she was smiling brightly at Harry as she held a little bundle of blankets, one of which was his mother's handiwork, Harry realized.

He found himself nodding, and before he was maybe ready, Y/n passed the baby over to him, and he was holding her. His daughter.

Harry looked down, a swirl of emotions squeezing his heart. She was asleep, the world's tiniest hand pressed against her cheek while she took deep breaths. Logically, he knew she didn't have any distinguishable features yet, but Harry felt like he could see himself and Y/n in her. Just gazing at her little face, he felt like he could see the next fifteen years playing out—the first words and steps, seeing Y/n holding her backstage, recitals and sports games, school projects, first loves, all of it.

An overwhelming feeling Harry couldn't name washed over him. It brought tears to his eyes as he realized just how much he loved her, how much he was willing to bend over backwards and protect her. And when he was able to break away from looking at her for a second, he found Y/n's gaze and saw the same look in her eyes, and one of understanding too.

Harry looked back down at his daughter, that overwhelming feeling rushing through him again, and for a moment, he wondered if that would ever go away. He wasn't sure he wanted it to.

"Hi baby," he whispered. Bending his head down, he kissed her forehead. "Hi, Simone. Welcome to our little family."

He knew Y/n was listening, but he didn't mind. It felt right that it was just the three of them sharing this little moment before everyone else flooded in to see the baby.

"We're a little unconventional as far as families go, and you'll probably have a different childhood than other kids," he said, not caring that Simone couldn't hear or understand him. He needed to say it. "But I'll love you with all my heart, and so will your mummy. You'll want for nothing because we'll give you the world, but you might have to be a little patient with us because we're new to the parenting thing.

"But I'll do whatever it takes to make you happy," he continued, his voice breaking. "I'll never let you feel unloved. I'll change your nappies and wipe your tears and make you smile. I'll be the best daddy for you. I promise."

Harry didn't know what the future held, but that he was sure of. He'd been scared and anxious the last few months, but now that he was standing in a hospital room holding his newborn daughter, he didn't want to give her, or Y/n, anything less than what they deserved.

Years later

"Dad, you're squeezing too hard."

"I don't care. My baby's abandoning me."

"I'm going to college!"

"That's what I said, isn't it?"

Simone began to squirm, but Harry still wouldn't let up. He was currently in the process of blinking back tears, and didn't want her to notice when he eventually did pull away.

"I'll be back for Fall Break," she said quietly, giving into the hug and squeezing Harry tight.

Harry took a deep breath and let go, even though he wasn't exactly ready to. Mustering a smile, he said, "I know. I'm just going to miss you. You're my baby."

Simone didn't balk or roll her eyes or contradict him, she just gripped the straps of her backpack as she gave him a wobbly smile. "You have plenty of babies to take care of at home."

Harry grinned and looked behind him where Y/n was keeping watch over the rest of the Styles family, though none of them were really babies anymore.

Looking back at Simone, he said, "Behave yourself, okay? Don't do anything Uncle Louis would do. And no boys for at least a month, please?"

Simone did roll her eyes then. "Sure, Dad."

That wasn't totally convincing, but he knew it was the best he was going to get. Harry pulled Simone in for one last hug, memories of the last eighteen years playing in his mind like a fast forward reel. Part of him couldn't believe he was already dropping Simone off for her first year of college, and he wasn't sure if he was ready to let her go. When he looked at her, he could still see the little baby he held for the first time, the one he promised to protect and do his best to raise. He hoped he fulfilled that promise.

"I love you, bug. Call me if you need anything. Any time, any place, you call me, okay?"

Tears appeared in Simone's eyes as she nodded. When Harry was ready, he finally stepped back and walked back toward Y/n and the rest of his family. As everyone got in the car Simone watched, waving to her siblings from the curb until Harry eventually peeled out of his spot, feeling like he was leaving part of his heart behind.

"Can we get something to eat?"

"In-N-Out!"

"There's no In-N-Out here!"

"A burger does sound good."

"Skip the song, please!"

"Play One Direction!"

Harry smiled as he shared a look with Y/n. He already missed Simone, but he knew she would be okay. And he found that it was easier—not by a lot but easier—to miss someone when there were five other babies, who weren't really babies anymore, to look after.

#harry styles #young dad! harry #young mom! reader #young dadrry #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic

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f1fantasys · 2 months

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My first ever fanfic, hope you all enjoy ❤️

'...and, and, and with Lando'

Angsty/Smut w/ Lando Norris

You'd been in a relationship with Lando for a year now, known him for 6 years prior. He was the most amazing and caring boyfriend you could have ever asked for. Being a Formula 1 driver, it meant Lando was away from you a lot more than that of a normal couple. Still, your love for each other made it work. You relationship with Lando had its ups and downs, but you always found your way back to each other, loving the other more than ever. You traveled around the world following Lando as much as you could, but it wasn't also so easy to just up and leave your home and be away from/wfm all the time.

Things with Lando had been great, however you recently noticed him becoming more distant. When you were away from each other, he would only respond to your texts with one or two word answers. You hardly ever face-timed- he was always too busy. You thought it was just a phase, and that things would eventually get back to normal. His races were recently not the best and only seemed to be getting worse.

You were currently with Lando in Belgium for one of the races. You'd arrived last night, hoping to have a quiet night in with your boyfriend, however he hardly even acknowledged your presence. He said he had an important dinner to attend, with his mate Charles, and he left you alone in your hotel room.

Later that night, you'd been scrolling on Twitter when pictures surfaced of a very drunk Lando and Charles, out at a nightclub, with some girls in the background. It was odd for them to have got out clubbing considering it was a race weekend, but what made you more upset is the fact that he left you alone to go have some fun with friends and GIRLS.

You tried to stay up for him, but he was just not showing up. Around 3am, you heard the hotel door open, and a very drunk Lando walked in. You decided to ignore him and pretend you were still sleeping. Lando somehow managed to strip his clothes off, even in his drunk state, and pulled back the bed covers to see you sporting a t shirt of his, and just some lacy panties. He immediately let out a groan at the sight of you. He ended up cuddling you, and after a while you felt some kisses being peppered on your back and shoulder. He turned your body around and started leaving open -mouthed kisses going further south.

'Lando stop, its late and you have to up early tomorrow'' you stated. Something clicked, and his whole mood changed. He let out a scoff and said 'what's it to you? I have a race, not you, and maybe i wanted a good fuck from my girlfriend to get me in a good mood, but clearly you don't care about me.' Before you could even say anything back, he turned around, mumbling something to himself.

You wanted to say something back, but decided against it, after all, its not worth arguing with someone who is not in their right senses.

As you drifted off to sleep again, you couldn't help but think of a memory from a few months ago.

Lando and you were in Italy for one of the Grand Prixs'. You had a lovely day out at the track for quali, Lando placed P2, so naturally he was in such a happy mood, he could burst. You loved to see that side of him - he was proud of his achievements and he wouldn't stop boasting about how you were his lucky charm. He has also debuted a goatee that weekend, so to say he looked handsome was an understatement. He had always been the most beautiful person to you, but with his new look, he looked HOT. So fucking hot. And lucky you, you had him all to yourself that night. The two of you usually loved to fuck the day before a race (as if you weren't doing the nasty every other day). It really got the adrenaline going for him, and for you, well you would not complain at all.

As soon as you reached your hotel room, he shut the door and his lips were on you. 'You look so fucking hot in this dress Y/N, gosh you don't know what you've done to me today.' You smiled into the heated kiss. 'And you looked so poochie, as your twitter fans would say, with your little goatee. I hope it stays forever and ever', you replied. This quickly took a turn when he started kneeling down in front of you, while you quickly removed your dress. He was shocked to find you wearing no panties, only a lacy bra that barely held your boobs together. He smirked ‘so fucking pretty, princess’ and before you could react, you felt his tongue on your pussy. He licked and licked and licked until your legs were trembling. ‘So close Lan’ you murmured. You could feel him smiling while continuing his slaughter on your most sensitive parts. After a few minutes, he carried and dropped you on the kind size bed. He quickly opened your legs and resumed his activities. His thumb quickly found your clit and you heard him mutter a few ‘cum, cum for me princess, cum for your Lando’ and with that, you came undone. Lando, however, didn’t slow his activities. You quickly felt his finger enter you-one, then two and within seconds he was finger fucking you. You came for a second time, then a third. Eventually you had to tell him to give it a break. You were feeling overly sensitive, and that only made him prouder of his achievements for the day. He wore a smirk at the thought of over stimulating you with just his mouth, the cheeky bugger.

You decided to put on a movie while lazily lying together, when suddenly you felt his fingers drawing lazy circles on your thigh, getting closer to the place you already craved him (yes, even after 3 orgasms, not less than an hour ago). By now you weren’t concentrating on the movie, you know Lando wasn’t as well. You quickly jumped him, bringing your lips to his, both fighting for dominance. In the end, you won, he opened his mouth to you and your tongues tasted each other, not getting enough. You both started to remove each others clothes until Lando was left in only his boxers. You started grinding on him, feeling his cock get harder by the second. ‘Someone’s needy’ you cheekily said to him. Without a second thought, you were suddenly on your fours, with Lando behind you, entering you without warning. ‘Let’s see who’s more needy’, he whispered. He set a slow pace at first, feeling so proud at how you take him, feeling your walls clench around his dick, so nicely, so tight, and so wet. He pulled your hair, causing you to just be on your knees. He spat into his hand and put it out by your mouth. You knew what to do. You quickly licked his hand clean of his spit, earning a loud and sexy moan from him. ‘My fucking princess’ he muttered and he suddenly started slamming into you at a harder pace, giving you no warning. ‘Taking me so well. Rewarding me for placing P2. Praying for my first win tomorrow. My princess’. After a few minutes you started to feel your walls clench. ‘So close Lan’ you told him. His finger found your clit and before you knew it you were crying out his name, praising him. After a minute or two, your felt his warm splutter inside your walls and heard another sexy groan form the man you love. As he slowly slid out, he peppered you in kisses ‘love you love you love you’ was all you heard as you both fell asleep.

That was the last thought you had before you drifted off to sleep.

You awoke the next morning to an empty bed. Checking the time, you saw it was 8am. You saw that Lando’s phone and wallet were gone, which meant he wasn’t in the room. You shot him a text asking where he was and that you wanted to talk to him. The plan today was for f1 media duties. You were supposed to accompany him through the day. You decided to get ready and get some breakfast while waiting for him. At 10am, you received a text. Merely stating a quick ‘already at the track, see you later’. Your heart sank at seeing that he didn’t even ask you to come there and be with him. You decided to go to the hotel spa to relax your mind a bit. By evening, you hoped to get a dinner with your boyfriend. It was the least he could do after acting like a total dick.

He came in the room at 7pm, sent you a quick ‘hi’. He showered and started putting on some clothes. ‘Are we going out for dinner?’ You asked. ‘I thought you could maybe order some room service, I’ve got dinner with the lads tonight’. You didn’t have time to reply. He left to the room straightaway. Needless to say you cried yourself to sleep that night.

The next day was FP1 and FP2. You had woken up before Lando, and had been ready waiting for him. This way he couldn’t escape you. The morning was filled with awkward silences and barely two words being exchanged between the two of you. You arrived at the track around 12pm, and the day ended around 10pm. You hardly saw Lando, but it was nice to catch up with some of the other WAGS. You also learned that Lando and Charles each had 2 points deducted due to their partying two nights ago.

As the two of you reached your hotel room, you’d had enough. ‘Lan, what’s going on. You’ve barley talked to me since I’ve come, we haven’t had one meal together in the three days, you haven’t touched me or kissed me at all, other than your drunk state. What is happening. Did I do something wrong? Are you mad at me? You seem to want to get away from me at all points of the day. We didn’t even hold hands waking into the paddock today’ you said, a few tears rolling down your cheek. He just sighed. ‘Can we not talk about this now, I have quail tomorrow and don’t need all this added extra stress. Stop being so needy. ’ You both had already eaten at the paddock(separately, that is). He jumped into bed and ignored you the rest of the night. Not even a cuddle. No reassurance at all.

Quali day was the same. Two words here and there but nothing. Lando had a good quali, after a long time, placing P3. But you had no energy to even start up a conversation again. To no surprise, the two of you didn’t fuck. The day before the race. You didn’t fuck. That says something.

Race day came and Lando finished with a good P3, keeping his quali placement. You hoped this would lighten his mood and that things could fall into place. Maybe the stress of the race caused him to act differently. Back at the hotel, you were getting ready to put clubbing. Happy that he’d said he wanted you to go with. You wore a sexy satin white dress that hugged all your curves in the right places. Deciding to forego panties, hoping to have a happy Lando later.

You walked into the club hand in hand. While Lando was getting your drinks, you drifted into thought about the last few days. Stressing about the race gave Lando no reason to act like a dick to you. You still wanted to talk to him about everything and clear the air. The night was going well. You chatted with some drivers and had deep conversations with the wags. Danced a bit. Just had a good night. After dancing for some time, you and Alex, Charles’ girlfriend walk up to the boys for a breather. There was no place to sit as Alex took the last chair. So you decided Lando’s lap was the best place. Plus you wanted to be close to him and to hold you. And that was the last straw. He immediately said ‘what the fuck Y/N. Can’t you leave me alone for two minutes. Fucking hell’. You were shocked. Not only was that rude, but he was rude to you in front of your friends. You needed to get away before embarrassing yourself with crying in front of everyone so you made a beeline for the door. You tried to breath through the cold air of the night and heard the door open. Any angry Lando emerged. ‘We’re leaving’

The ride back to the hotel was quiet. You could still feel the tears sting your eyes and you tried to keep as quiet as you could.

When you got into the room, Landon sat on the sofa and looked at you. Not in a sorry way, not in a sweet, loving way. But a way that threw daggers at you. He was angry. You’d never seen him this angry before. ‘Lan” was all you said as you sat down. ‘I think we need to break up’ he said. You were speechless. You felt your heart break into a thousand pieces. ‘Lando, what’s going on’. You could barely even talk. ‘Please don’t do this, talk to me. Tell me what I’ve done wrong. Or tell me how you think we can fix this. I can’t lose you like this. You’re the love of my life. You know that’ you managed to say through your tears.

His look wasn't angry anymore, just annoyed. ‘You’re so needy. Always needing my attention. Constantly texting and calling. I’ve had enough. I need to concentrate on my racing. Not on you.” Hearing this sounding like someone shot you. You could not believe that your Lando was saying this to you. He didn’t give you a chance to say anything. ‘I’ll get my PR to get my stuff in the morning’ he said. And walked out the door.

He left you in a pool of your tears. Not knowing where it all went so wrong. You waited and waited and waited for him to come back. Say he was wrong and apologize for everything that he said in a rage. But he didn’t. You fell asleep on the floor but the sofa. Waking up to a broken heart the next day. You tried to call Lando, only for it not to go through. You tried to call Charles, Lando’s best friend in the world of F1, but he was already on a flight home. You called Max F, to ask if Lando had said anything. He didn’t know what was going on.

You packed your things and tried to convince yourself that it was for the better. There’s no point being in a relationship where you are not wanted. You booked an early flight home (you and Lando were supposed to stay back for a few days). Once home you rang Ria, she worked with Lando at Quadrant and quickly became one of your best friends. She came over and you explained everything to her. You found out that Lando had blocked you on all socials. Blocked your number as well. You didn’t know what to do, you don’t know what you did so wrong that it seemed Lando couldn’t stand you. You were so confused. Years of friendship and years of love just to be tossed to the side without reason.

Max F came to visit you a bit later in the day. He said he talked to Lando but Lando wouldn’t say anything about you or why he did what he did. You felt like you had no more tears to cry. You were exhausted. Max stayed for a while before heading back.

A few months had passed since everything had happened. Everyday you tried your best to hold yourself together but how do you do that without the person who bought you comfort. You were lonely. You stopped meeting your friends, even your f1 friends. They would only remind you of him.

One day you were having coffee at your favorite local coffee shop. Sitting on your own, sipping your coffee, out of nowhere, you heard his voice. At first you thought your mind was playing tricks on you. You looked up to see the curls you so lovingly adored. His back was to you, so he hadn’t noticed you yet. Your body was frozen. You didn’t know what to do. Getting up would cause him to turn to see you, and you weren’t sure if you wanted him to see you yet. After a minute he finally turned. You were looking down at your phone.

‘Y/N’. You braced yourself and looked up. ‘Lando’.

‘Can we talk?’ He asked. ‘Sure’ you replied.

‘How are you? You look great’. You smiled a bit. You did not look great. And you were not ok.

‘I’m good’ you lied.

‘How are you doing’. He kept quiet for several seconds. ‘Not good. Letting go of you-‘.

‘Lando stop, I can’t do this right now’. You interrupted him. Your mind was racing and you immediately got up and left.

You tried to calm yourself down once you got home. Deciding to have a cup of tea, your put some water to boil. A knock at your door startled you. You looked through the peephole and saw none other than Lando standing at the other side of the door.

Contemplating what to do, you opened the door slightly. ‘What are you doing here Lando?’ ‘Please let me in, I really need to talk to you’.

Maybe letting him explain himself was the closure you needed. Carefully you opened the door and for the first time took in his appearance. He looked just as shit as you did. But he was still the most handsome man you had ever seen. You moved to the side to let him in and locked the door behind him. ‘Coffee?’ You asked. ‘Yes please’ he said.

The both of you sat at each end of the sofa. Not knowing who should start first or what to say. Lando started- ‘pushing you out of my life has been the most painful thing I could have ever done, and I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, please hear me out’. You tried you calm your nerves while listening to him. All you wanted to do was erase the last few months and jump into his arms and never let him go.

He continued- ‘things haven’t been going my way recently. What with the car and my teammate outscoring me at races. I talked to Zak about it and he said I was letting our relationship affect my career and that I had to make a choice. Choose what’s more important. I shut him down of the idea for several months. He couldn’t make me chose between my love for you and for f1. The last few races towards our breakup had been the worst. You tried to be there for me and I keep distancing myself. Thinking maybe Zak was right and I should try not be with you and see how I race. Safe to say that was the worst thing I could have done. My races since then have been even shittier. I've had 3 DNFs in the least 5 races. But more importantly, my life feels so hopeless and incomplete without you. Y/N I am so so truly sorry for the way I treated you and for the things I said to you. If anything, I am needy one in our relationship and you are always there for me. To be happy with me or to cry with me, you stood by my side. And as soon as things got difficult, I blamed it all on you. Please know that I have always and will always love you with my whole heart and I hope you can forgive me some day. I understand if you need time to process everything but please know I will wait for you. However long it takes. You are the only person I want to be with. The only person I want to love.’

By now the tears are streaming down your face at full force. Cautiously, Lando takes your hand in his. You feel electricity travel through your whole body at the contact. You tried hard to think about what he said and to really believe him. But he was right. You needed time to think about it all. Even though he admits his mistake, there was a time when racing was more important than you. Do you give yourself in or do you deserve better than that?

‘Lan’ you started. Lando felt goosebumps just by calling him that. ‘I appreciate you coming here to tell me the truth. And trust me, I do want to believe you. I want to forget everything that has happened and continue to live our lives by each other. But I also need time to process. I can’t just drop everything and move on. What you did to me hurt me and I am still recovering the pieces from my broken heart. I don’t know if I am ready to risk it breaking down again. You are and always will be special to me but I just need time before we can become as close as friends even.'

‘I get that' he started before you interrupted him for the second time that day.

I also have to ask, that night out in Belgium with Charles - the photos-' your voice broke halfway through the sentence. 'What about all those girls you were with? Why were you with so many girls, when i traveled miles to be with you and you left me sitting alone in a hotel room.'

Lando sighed. he knew those pictures would come up someday. He needed to find the right words to say to you. To tell you he was never unfaithful. 'Charles and I were minding our own business in the club. Until those girls came along. They claimed to be fans but we both got bad vibes off of them. We immediately shut them down and tried to ignore them. We even moved to another area but they kept following us. Needless to say other people around got the wrong impression and started taking pictures of us. Nothing at all happened with them, I would never cheat on you Y/N. Even though i was acting like a total dick to you, i never stopped loving you.' I also want to apologize for my behavior when i got back to the hotel that night. What i did was so wrong and i can't stop beating myself up over treating you like that.'

All you could do was nod. You didn't know what else to say. You just needed time to think everything through, and most importantly protect your heart at all costs.

'Thank you for listening to me. Please reach out to me when you’re ready.’ With that he got up, kissed your cheek and left.

Needless to say you couldn’t function for the next few days. Your mind was in overdrive about thinking what to do. Of course you knew you still loved him. You wanted nothing more than to just go to him, hug him, kiss him, forgive him. That’s what your heart wants. But do you listen to your head or your heart?

About a week later Lando was at home watching tv (it was the winter break). With a few days to go before Christmas all he wanted was to be in his own space, comfortable silence. He heard the doorbell ring and ignored it. Until the person rang it again, and again. Frustrated, he got up and opened the door without checking the peephole. What he wasn’t prepared for, was you, standing there, looking as beautiful as ever, holding a mistletoe above your head. Lando couldn’t believe his eyes. Without thinking or saying anything, he pulled you into his house and out of the snow. You both stared at each for what felt like hours but was just a few minutes.

‘Well’ you said looking up at the mistletoe. ‘Are you going to kiss me?’ Lando gave you the biggest boyish grin he’d ever given you. And without wasting another second, smashed his lips to yours. You both stood there just embracing and kissing each other, tongues battling for dominance. The two of you knew that you still had things to talk about, re-assurance for each other (you, that you could trust him, and him, that you actually have forgiven him). He gently carried you bridal-style to his bedroom. He sat you down on the bed, suddenly doubting the next move he should take. You didn’t refuse him carrying you to him room, so you must want the same thing as him.

Right? Right.

You quickly pulled him flush against you, both of you ripping each others clothes off. ‘Missed you so much’ he said. ‘Lan I can’t live without you. I need you, always. I’ve missed you so fucking much it’s a miracle I got through these past few months without you. You are my life.’

As soon as you both were butt-naked, you rolled over so that you were sitting on Landos lap. You both had missed this view. You started kissing again. Landos hands found their way to you ass. Massaging it roughly, while you started grinding on his already hard cock. Your juices were already starting to cover him up. Lando lied flat on his back, and moved you to sit on his face. Boy had you missed his tongue on your pussy. He was licking and sucking and touching all of your most private areas. Not giving you any room to breathe. But in the best was possible.

After a few minutes an idea popped into your head. ‘Lan, hold on’ you said as you lifted yourself off him and turned your body around so you could take his hard dick into your hands. ‘Naughty’ you heard him smile, as he resumed his activities on you. Stroking him a couple of times, spitting in your hand and combining it with your juices that were already on him, you took the tip of his beautiful cock in your mouth. The thick vein at the side was what you missed the most. You sucked and licked what you could, pumping the rest of him in your hand. You almost gagged, having gone a long while without doing it. You’d almost forgotten how big he was. ‘Lan, m’ close’ you squealed. ‘Cum for me my love, cum into my mouth’. And with that, you came undone. He sucked up all of your juices. Then re positioned you on his lap.

‘Need you in me’, you managed to croak out. ‘I know baby, you’re still on birth control?’ You nodded. He lifted you up and and you felt yourself slowly sink down onto him. God you had missed this feeling. Him being buried deep inside you. You start to set a good rhythm. Not too slow, not to fast. Just perfect.

After a while Lando lifted you up and re positioned your bodies again. This time you were on your back and Lando was on top of you. You really missed having all his weight on you. He started slamming into you, harder and harder, fucking you. Fucking you after what felt like forever. Tears started stinging your eyes. You were in pure bliss and it was all because of a single man. A few minutes later you found you walls starting to clench around him.

‘Wait for me princess' his mumbled while you nodded. ‘Fuck Y/N I’m so close. I’ve missed you so much baby. I’ve missed you and I’ve missed this pussy of yours, that takes me so well. You let me fill you up so well’. And with that you both came crashing down, legs shaking, heavy breathing and small laughs at just how amazing that was.

After a few minutes, Lando gently slid out of you, earning a moan from you. ‘Just going to get you cleaned up baby’ he cooed. He got a warm cloth and slowly wiped all the mess you both had created. He returned a few seconds later, lying down on the bed, and pulled you to his side. ‘I’m still so sorry for everything Y/N, but thank you for coming back to me. I love you with all my heart and I promise to always keep you happy. Will you spend Christmas with me at my families this year?’ ‘Of course Lan, I’m so happy we found our way back to each other’ you said as you got up on one elbow and kissed his jaw. His lips quickly found yours and the two of you kissed and kissed and kissed until you both fell asleep, excited for what lies ahead.

Thank you for reading, I really hope you all enjoyed this! xx

#f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #lando norris #lando x reader #f1 smut #f1 angst

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broooooo · 5 months

Text

Latex freedom

It was as if it was yesterday

I can still feel the pleasure, the euphoria of freedom that I gained.

I'm Asher, 20 years old and I don't have much going for myself.

I live in a world where latex rubber drones Rome, as if it's a rite of passage amongst society, to be assimilated is seen as an honour, whether or not you want it or not.

I love alone in a small apartment, iv always felt trapped inside my home, my parents were overwhelming and overprotective, so iv always been alone and outcasted, and now I'm alone, I want to be free to do what I've missed out on, yet I'm stuck .. emotions stop me, iv never been sexually active before, idk what it feels like..

How I wish I knew

I watch on my phone one night, as usual I witness the conversions of people, public or In private, seeing how they change , it makes my heart hurt for what I don't have

That is when I got a message from someone I recognise...

His name was once Aaron, we actually live in the same building,were neighbours and old class mates...to be truthful , yet we have never interacted, IV only ever seen him from outside my window peeking through curtains , really I idolized him, he's everything I wanted to be

He recently was assimilated .. I heard he had what could only be described as a, divine enlightenment, I can still hear his moans in my head,

The name on the message was -# 6923

The name he gained after it was complete, Aaron can still be used, yet only in private and usually only between friends .

I'm surprised to get a message, I wonder what it's about and start imagining it, before going on it to read it .. it seems the opportunity has arrived.

An opportunity for freedom ..

Aaron - hey what's up neighbour?

Me- i- hello ...I'm doing fine . I guess.

Aaron- nice to hear... How would you like to hang with me?

Me- (huh? ...Heart beating) - i- sure.. I don't mind.

Aaron - I'll come over to yours tomorrow at 12,ok?

Me- ok..

-that is where it ended .

I could already guess the outcome of tomorrow, yet I'm scared and excited, will my emotions hold me back once more .or?

It was hard to sleep with my mind in a frenzy, it was a sudden difference in my life I want to take advantage of.

Come morning, I wake up and immediately get ready. Not like there's much to do

I'm usually tidy but it didn't Hurt to freshen up a bit.

I want to look presentable but all my clothes are baggy and worn, le sigh ... It will have to do

Come 12- I'm nervous...

I can hear to stomp of leather boots . .then a slight nock at the door.

It was him...

I run to the door and gently open it. There he was, a tall muscular young man, leather boots and .. her wore some tight leather pants, a latex t-shirt and gloves.

Although the regular drone latex suit is also worn by some, once a drone, you still are yourself and remember everything, dressing up in different types of latex and leather is something that can be done.

His long white blonde hair flows and his piercing blue eyes...

Errr hi ... Come in, i say

Aaron smiles , hello neighbour. As he walks in.

The sent of latex in the air

I close the door and we both sit down, I had brought orange soda for us to drink and chat.

Aaron then speaks up . So how have you been recently Asher? He says with a warm smile

I- iv been fine .. I guess I say in a slight down tone, my eyes looking out the window ..

Aaron puts down his drink and shuffles over to me .. he mildly embraces me with a soft hug. In a soft voice ... It must be hard to live alone like this... Ik how you feel...

I look to him, I can feel his warm energy.. I speak in a somber tone ...

So... You've heard my cries .. haven't you?

(he had always worried if his floor would notice his breakdowns.. whether or not they did, I guess it would be awkward to ask what the sound was )

Aaron then He says in a soft voice.. y yes.... It seems your bedroom is behind mine.... Iv heard it all.

I become embarrassed instantly... Oh I'm so sorry you had to hear all that... I say in a rushed tone.

Aaron Giggles slightly. It's fine it's fine.. ik how you feel, I felt the same way before

He puts his hand on mine.. it's the first time iv felt latex like this before..

I rub my hand against it,, it's soft and warm..

Aaron smiles at me.. nice isn't it?

I blush slightly out of embarrassment.. ehe it is... I guess..

Then sigh... I say sadly... How do you know it will work for me? I don't even know what being turned on feels like.. iv never had a boner before.

Aaron smiles. And softly rubs my hand. I understand your concern Asher.. you don't need to worry. I'm here to slowly guide you.

I felt concerned when I heard your cries .. and knew if I came over. Maybe I could help free you from that pain

Hearing this I let out a tear and and hug Aaron.. (I can hear his heart)

I - thank you.. but I don't even know how to even begin.....

Aaron hugs me back.. don't worry .. leave that up to me.

When we superate Aaron takes his glove off ..

He says In a soft voice holding it out towards me,

Just like he did for me..I will be here along side you ,

I look at the glove a bit shocked... But don't you need it?

He giggles, he puts his hand up and I witness latex forming around the skin into a new glove ..

I stare mesmerized by what I just saw... Wow I say.

Aaron then picks up the glove and motions to me hand, Cinderella style , he gently slides the glove onto my hand,..

This is the first step aaron says in a calm voice . The key is your imagination, if you fantasize and dream about it, it can become reality no matter what.. ik you want this... And I will be a door away if you want company.

I smile... Thank you Aaron..

After a nice chat and drinks we parted ways and I've as again alone

I go to my bed a turn on the TV to the assimilation channel to watch others become drones

Listening to the sounds.. the pleasure they experience.. the complete freedom they gain..

Siting up back against a pillow

I look at my hand, it's still very much gloved in latex .

I put my hand against my face , smelling it, feeling it, tasting it...

It felt soft and warm like him, it smelled.. like him.,

My mind had been in a state I'd never known , it felt so good I didn't want to leave, like a dream... I remember his words.. dream and it will become reality..,

i didn't know if I was sleeping or not , but to dreamt about it.. iv watched enough porn and transformations to get the general idea of what it looks like..

To be horny... Yes .. I want to be horny ... I want to get a boner. I want to goon and leak... I want to cum

Then I wake up from my state, I was hot , and steamy? My gloved hand still against my face I pull away .

But then my eyes widened, my heart races, emotion clogs my throat. And I'm on the verge of tears..

It was my dick.. i finally got one.. a Boner . The biggest smile on my face

With speed I striped fully naked and in a heartbeat I used my latex hand and went to town.

Ha hahahaha so this is.... What it feels like..m my eyes gloss over in my new found pleasure.... I was so happy. I started to drool, the smell his latex still on my face and mind

I started to leak pre, it was a sight beyond my wildest dreams. .

Haha ha has I awwww , i laugh , moan and cry, ... Fully immersed in my feelings....

It felt like a lifetime of pain had been lifted

I, I was doing it

I had a throbbing hard dick and I was so horny . I wish this I could be like this forever..

Then the climax ... Through Drool, and pree my eyes roll back in supreme pleasure as I cum for the first time..

Ropes upon ropes of cum spewed all over me, my mind shut of from the pleasure as my dick kept shooting cum....

it felt like a blissful dream , I fell asleep, dreaming of it again, I wanted to cum more.. i wanted more latex ..

With that thought the cum around his body had soaked into his skin and latex blossomed

It slowly covered Asher's body, building his muscles up and giving him a large dick, balls so large he will never run out of cum. A dick meant for a horny drone...

Yes .. he thought .. he can see and feel in , he can see it happening in his dream, latex covering him. .. large heavy leather boots form on his feet. A tight latex t shirt... Tight bondage straps .. leather pant... And a cool latex tie .. a fun drone uniform . . Just like him..m just like Aaron ...his idol ,The one who gave him freedom... The freedom to cum, to be horny .. he felt so aroused , he was ready to be. Drone, ready, to .obey.. ready to cum

Programing set in as his new drone identity was made...

Drone 6924..

A perfect neighbour number...

Hehe he smiled ..

Thank you.. so much.....aaron... He thought before finally falling into a blissful but horny sleep

When asher woke up he was smiling, his dick was hard and leaking from within his pants . He was so happy it wasn't a dream ...

He was so happy... So horny..

Awww he moaned..

He got a sudden text . He looked over to it .

Aaron - must of had a great time Asher .. I'm proud.. I told you it would work : D

Me- i- it was like nothing I'd ever experienced... I I can't thank you enough....

Aaron- your welcome .. drone 6924-

Now why don't you come over and we hang? You can join me for your first assignment.. then maybe can . Have some fun.. together?

Me- I'll be right over. .. drone 6923

The thought of seeing him again made me cum in pleasure .

The cum gets soaked into my latex skin , my dick still hard and leaking.

Forever horny and ready to cum . Just like a good drone should be

Asher got up. Admiring his new body , and loving it all, the boots giving him a kick of pleasure

He was so happy, he finally achieved his dream of freedom from his life, his depressing feelings

No more he said. His dick ready to go, he walks over to Aaron's door and nocks

The beginning of his new life as a horny rubber drone.

O: a late night story for you all. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed it

Xoxo- drone 6923- and 6934

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tinygarbage · 6 months

Text

Lovers Rock (A Halloween Special)

pairing: Joel Miller x College!f!reader

word count: 4k

summary: Joel's been your best friend since 6th grade. He graduated with you, but when you went to school, he joined his fathers contracting company. When your roommate invites you to a frat party for Halloween, hoping to set you up with her boyfriends friend, you drag Joel along.

warnings: 18+, MINORS DNI, underage drinking, college parties, Joel is 20, reader is 18 (Joel was held back for kindergarten), frat boys, kissing, reader is a virgin, mutual pining, oblivious reader, not edited 😵‍💫

a/n: ok y’all, I’m not very happy with how this turned out, but I really like the idea I had so yk fuck it and ball. I just needed some mutual pining yk? I’m hoping to make multiple installments of this story but I’m not promising anything! Anyways enjoy even though there only a few hours left of Halloween:)

┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ °

When Nessa proposed she wanted to set you up with her boyfriends frat mate, you didn’t know what to expect. All you knew was that she was desperate to help you loose your virginity.

So, after a couple days of convincing, you give in. But not before calling your best friend to drag him along. You call Joel immediately after Nessa tells you about the party. He had been your best friend since 6th grade. You met him in math class and after pestering him for a piece of gum. When he finally gave in, you continued to pester him until you completely weaseled your way into his life. And since then, you had been inseparable.

You and Joel had watched each other go through countless crushes and relationships, but nothing stuck for either of you. Joel was a little more proactive, and had done a lot more than you had ever done. Including losing his virginity. But, you promised each other to keep each other in the loop. So here you are, last minute on the Wednesday before the party, waiting for him to pick up as the phone rings.

"Jo, hey." You say quickly after he picks up.

"What's up, Buttercup?" He says, panting slightly.

"You good?"

"Yeah, sorry, I'm just at the job sight." He says, trying to catch his breath.

"Still? It's 7?" You frown, looking at the alarm on your desk.

"Yeah, Dad's got us cleaning and shit." He sighs, "so what's up?"

"Oh, yeah. Right." You laugh, "What are your plans Friday night?"

"Tommy's got a football game, but I can get out of it if you wanted to do something." He answers.

"There's a party. A Halloween party." You say, flipping a page of your textbook and start writing.

"Oh, y'know I'm not really into that kinda shit." He says. You can picture the little scowl he unintentionally does.

"Please? For me?" You whine.

"Why do you want me to go so bad, college?" He chuckled. You can imagine him standing at the job sight. Breathing heavy in his work pants and neon orange t-shirt. He'd be panting slightly, beads of sweat running down his forehead, curls messy and hands dirty from a tough day at work. His biceps bulging in the t-shirt and his thighs tight against the fabric of his pants.

"Nessa is trying to set me up with one of the football guys, I need my bodyguard just in case things get rocky." You says, the eraser of your pencil pressing against your lip as you read and talk,

"Nessa? Your roommate?" He asks. Joel and Nessa don't get along.

"Please, Jo." You drag out his nickname.

"I don't wear costumes." He says flatly.

"What if i buy you one?" You propose.

"You're not spending money on me." He argues.

"Wear dark clothes. I'll just get a mask or something." You suggest, "you don't even have to wear it, just hold it."

He sighs from the other line, "Fine. I'll wear dark clothes. And I'll be at your dorm at 7:30."

"Really?" You ask, smiling brightly as you look down at your desk with a smitten face.

"Really, Princess." That's what he called you whenever you got you way. It always made you feel like you had a little butterfly flying around your rib cage.

"Thank you. I love you." You giggle, going back to writing notes.

"Love you too, College." He says, you can hear the smirk in his voice. "Well, I gotta go. I'll see you then?"

"See you then, Jo."

┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ °

The crowd is immediately overwhelming to Joel. As the group approaches the frat house, there a guy throwing up an the sidewalk. He's dressed as Luigi. His mustache lays crumbled at his feet while he groans. Joel automatically thinks of 3,001 excuses to get the hell out of there. But each excuse is thrown away after he thinks about you. What if something happens to you? So he stays. Stuffing part of the werewolf mask you bought into his back pocket. Reluctantly grabbing a beer from the huge cooler once you're inside and cracking it open. He watches as you and Nessa take out your own alcohol and soda can to make a mixed drink.

Earlier that night, he arrived at your dorm to see you all dolled up. A winged liner and a cherry red lipstick being the most notable out of your makeup look. For him at least. You were wearing a white, pirate styled shirt with a worn brown vest. In a material that made Joel cringe slightly. Your skirt was fluffy, and short, exposing your thighs in the cold air. You wore converse, just like he had. You were dressed as Little Red Riding Hood. Shoving a cheap werewolf mask into his hands, thanking him for wearing exactly what you had told him. Which was a navy crewneck and dark denim. He was your big bad wolf.

He sighs, standing beside them, feeling wildly out of place. You had brought him to the same frat before. After a Longhorns game. An invitation reached out by Nessa and her boyfriend who was in the frat. But before then, he was drinking and it was easier to make conversation about football, and not his shitty costume. He swallows his pride and watches you giggle with your bad influence of a roommate. Or so he believed her to be.

You turn to see him staring, throwing a crooked smile in his direction before taking a long sip of your drink. Which had mostly alcohol and a drop of Dr Pepper. "Can you hold my soda, Joel?" You ask, with your usual puppy eyes and fake pout.

He grumbles and grabs it from you, double fisting a Busch lite and your Dr Pepper. While holding your soda and following you around, all Joel could think about were his little brothers words. 'You're the boyfriend with absolutely no benefits.' And Joel couldn't deny it any longer. He helped move you into your dorm, he picks you up when you drink too much with Nessa, he holds you when your shitty boyfriends screw you over, and he holds your drinks at parties so you can flirt with other guys. And he gets nothing but a 'thanks Joel! You're the best!'

It took him way too long to realize that he's the friend zone king. He sits on its shitty throne next to the guy who says 'Where's my hug?' His stomach churns. His throat burning hot and his head is spinning.

"Nessa said Kayden and Theo are on the lawn." You shout over the music into Joel's ear, the proximity making his heart jump.

"The hell are they doin' out there?" He asks back.

"Keg-stand, fucking idiots." You grumble and Joel laughs, agreeing. Which earns him a glare from Nessa. To which he sticks his tongue out back.

Nessa grabs onto you, leading you out towards the lawn. You immediately grab onto Joel's forearm and drag him with you two. He sighs, downing half of his beer as he walks with you to the lawn. A sea of drunk college students dressed in silly or slutty costumes litter the lawn. Nessa's boyfriend, Theo, is in the middle of a keg stand, and Kayden is cheering from the side with a jug full of alcohol. God, Joel wanted to lose his shit and bang on his chest in pure anger. You were nervous about that fucker?

You look to Joel with an uneasy smile, he doesn't return it. "How do I even communicate with him?" You ask Joel.

"You run away as fast as you can," he gives you an unimpressed look as he says it. He's not joking.

You give him an exaggerated eye roll and shake your head. "You told me you'd be good for advice, Miller."

"That's my best advice, Princess," he says easily, crossing his arms over his chest. His beer can lazily hanging in his fingertips. Which are lightly gripping the top.

You swallow, watching as Kayden chugs an impressive amount of whatever alcohol was mixed in the jug of what used to be Arizona tea. "I guess I should probably introduce myself."

Joel's jaw clenches as he watches you go, wanting to grab you and shake sense into you. What could you possibly see in that guy? What could possibly be romantic about a arizona jug with a unexplained green liquid sloshing around inside it? What could possibly be attractive about the piss-water beer he was spilling all over himself. With one tight squeeze, he crashes the can, wandering away to find a recycle bin.

He heads back inside reluctantly, chewing the inside of his cheek while his mind churns out a million scenarios where you turn out hurt. Or someone else's. A huff escapes his lips as he tosses the can into the recycle bin and immediately heads into the kitchen for another. In the kitchen, there's a group of other Mario characters. Joel clocks them as Luigi's group. He wonders if they know poor Luigi is puking his guts out.

Laughing to himself, he cracks open a second beer and leans against the counter, observing as people come and go from the kitchen. He sips slowly, judging people's costumes, laughter, and their drunken speeches. He wonders how people got drunk so fast, or if him and your group really arrived as late as Nessa made it seem. He sets his beer down next to him, still holding onto your Dr Pepper. His hand covering the open top. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a princess peach approaching. Her dress short, and white knee high boots. Her blonde hair was curled and she had a tiny crown on her head. She looked good.

"You're bleeding." She says, pointing to his empty hand. Looking down, he realized he must've cut himself while crushing his can in his earlier frustration.

He looks back up with a slow blink, "thanks." He grumbles, not really sure what to say, "you know if they keep a first aid kit in this dump?"

Peach laughs with a nod, moving past him and looking under the sink. She grabs out a small, red first aid kit. Joel sets down your Dr Pepper. He moves to the sink, washing off the blood from the small, deep cut. He rips a paper towel from his freehand and dabs the cut. Once he's finished, Peach put a paw patrol bandaid on the left side of his palm, where the cut is.

"All fixed, soldier." She says with a giggle.

"Thanks," he says, inspecting the bandaid made for children, "oh, and if you're missing a Luigi, he's out on the lawn. Buddy seems like he's had a rough night.

Peach let's out a loud giggle, Joel flinches at the sound. "Oh, that's just Damon. He's been drinking since noon."

"Since noon?"

"Yeah, it's normal i promise." She says, her hand falling onto his bicep as she laughs. She squeezes it lightly and his eyes widen slightly.

Joel shifts, not really sure how to handle a unwanted touch from a stranger. Her hand dropped as soon as it came. He let out a huff in relief, shifting his converse against the kitchen tile. "He should probably stop drinkin' so much." He said awkwardly.

Peach shrugs, "it's college."

At the tail end of their conversation, you slip into the kitchen. You're red hood is down now, and your solo cup is completely empty. Having been downed after you listens to Kayden tell you about football through a slurred voice. After realizing there was no chance of social resuscitation, you head inside to find Joel. Hopefully getting the hell out of there. You walk through the sliding glass door and through the dining room. When you reach the kitchen you stop in you tracks at the sight of Joel.

As you stand there, a realization creeps up on you. You've seen this film. You've seen it a thousand times. Every time you've entered a room, you've watched it play. A perfect play through every single time. Joel stands against the kitchen counter with another beer in his hands. He's grumbling something to a girl dressed as Princess Peach. As she laughs at what he said, her delicate hand slaps his bicep, grabbing onto it as she leans forward and lets out a flirtatious giggle. You watch him blink slowly, realizing whatever he said to the girl wasn't a joke. He wasn't trying to be funny.

Continuing to watch, you stand in the entrance. He stands up from where he was leaning on the counter, no longer relying on it to hold him up. You watch as he slams his second beer, your Dr Pepper still in his right hand. His hand is covering the top. Another few blinks and his whiskey eyes are on you.

Everything from there feels like a total cliche. He turns away from Princess Peach, eyes still on you. He mutters a farewell. You watch him closely as he stares you down. He's crossing the room, eyes fixated on your form. The white pirate-styled top, and the brown vest. His eyes fall to the short red skirt and the beat up converse on your feet. The noise around you cancels out into merely a whisper, your heartbeat gets faster as you realize what's happening to you. No, what's happened. What's always been there. What is becoming so painfully obvious that you physically can't keep up with the way your brain spins.

He's there and everyone else is just an obstacle. Blocking you from running to him. You wonder if that's how it's been this whole time. If your own stupidity and oblivious nature has been your obstacle this whole time. If this moment was destined since you had plopped a boat made out of the gum wrapper from the gum he gave you on his desk in 6th grade. You wonder if had he asked you to homecoming instead of Charlie Winkler, would you have already realized it. Would you have already realized that there's absolutely no one in this world that makes you feel the way he does?

As he gets closer, fire spreads through your body, and suddenly he's grabbing your wrist. He says something, but you're locked into a shock induced state. You completely zone out as his face leans closer. Your eyes take in his thick, furrowed brow and the slight scrunch on his forehead. His lips are downturned and you suddenly realize how long it's been since he's shaved. His stubble much longer than he had ever kept it before.

"Hey, you good?" His smooth drawl snaps you back into reality, he's waving a large hand in front of your face, "Earth to College."

You blink a few times, "Joel. Hi." You choke out awkwardly, staring at him.

"You good? Where's Kyle?"

"Kayden." You correct, throwing out your solo cup. Then grabbing the Dr Pepper from his hands and throwing that out too.

"Same thing," he shrugs, "Where is he?"

"I wasn't into him." You say quickly, "Wanna get some air? I'm feeling a little overwhelmed."

He immediately looks concerned, his hand landing on the small of your back, "What's wrong? Are you alright?"

You nod quickly, "I'm fine, i promise. C'mon, let's go upstairs."

You grab his hand and lead him out to the living room and up the stairs of the frat. He follows behind, holding onto your hand tightly. He looks behind and around himself, not really knowing what to expect. Or what people would think about people heading into the bedroom of a frat member without said frat member being present.

You reach a door with Theo's name on it. Carefully, you peak your head in. Once you know it's clear of horny and drunk college students, you open the door fully. Joel steps through, looking around at the slightly messy room.

"You're sure we can be up here?" Joel says, awkwardly shifting his weight as you plop down on Theo's bed.

"He said I could use it if i needed too." You smile, playing with the hem of your skirt.

He just nods, converse dragging slightly on the rug under his feet and towards the bed. As he sits down slowly, you listen to the muffled music from the yard. A shitty, yet classic, Pitbull song plays and you hear drunken screams. You ignore it, not wanting to focus on anything else but the overbearing scent of Joel's teakwood cologne. The one you got him for his 20th birthday. How was he so perfect?

"So, that kid didn't catch your interest?" Joel asks, his sweaty hands rubbing on the denim covering his thighs.

"He smelled like wet pennies," you laugh, nudging his shoulder lightly.

He laughs with you. It's thunderous sound, one you've always been incredibly fond of. You giggle slightly, a lovesick haze clouding your brain as he looks over to you. For a moment, it's quiet between you both. A complete contrast to the chaos outside. Both of your breathing the only sound left in the room. His eyes flicking from your eyes to your cherry red lips. He snaps out of his daze, looking forwards, "I think if someone told me I smelled like pennies, I'd cry." He says teasingly, nudging your knee.

"You don't smell like pennies." You lean closer.

"Promise?"

"Promise." You nod, giggling as you lean your head on his shoulder.

His arm wraps around you, rubbing your shoulder over your smooth red cape. The hood tangled in the back from ripping it off your head after Kayden accidentally spilled his unidentified alcohol beverage on it earlier. You nuzzle your head on his muscular shoulder, inhaling his strong scent. His navy crewneck is soft against your cheek as you look down at the dark denim on his strong thighs.

You both sit in silence for a few moment, the tension in the air getting thicker as the seconds tick by. Eventually, you get restless. Your voice cuts through the quiet room as you lift your head up slightly to look up at him. "You want to stay with me in the dorms tonight?" You ask softly.

"I would love that." he says softly, leaning forward and placing his forehead on yours. His hand reaches to grab your wrist as it sits on your lap. He rubs your wrist slowly, running across a prominent vein that meets your palm.

Suddenly, his free hand wraps around the back of your head, gently and quickly pulling you in. Before you can process whats happening, his lips press against yours. You melt into the kiss without another thought. His hand slides down and holds your face, his other hand dropping your wrist and reaching up behind your head. His long fingers running through your hair as you kiss. Your hands lay on his chest, squeezing him slightly when he pressed deeper. The kiss turns to into a heavy make out as he starts getting a bit carried away at the taste of your cherry lipstick. The kiss gets sloppy, making you squeeze your thighs together from the sudden burn between your legs. He breaks the kiss, breathing heavy, his hands on your hips. He's looking down at you with rosy cheeks. "Was that okay?" His voice was soft.

You pant softly, your lips swollen from his passionate kiss. "Mhm," you nod.

He quickly steals another kiss from you, shifting to face you. You go right back to making out again. He has a tight hold on your waist with one hand. His left hand traveling up to your back. You hold yourself up on the bed with your hand spread behind you. Your arm is thrown over his shoulder and around the back of his neck. His tongue pushes against yours, pulling you in for a kiss. It lasts for a few seconds that seem to be last a lifetime. His hand grips tighter at your waist, breathing heavily after he eventually broke the kiss. "I want you.." He whispers. His eyes are heavy and he's gazing at you in a way you didn't believe was possible.

"I'm yours." You whisper without another thought, smiling.

He pulls himself even closer, slowly and gently lying you down before leaning on top of you. He places his hand flat on your spine, whilst his other hand goes to your thigh. He kisses your neck and collarbone, the taste of your skin driving him crazy. For a moment, he loses himself in the taste, before he begins to wonder if you're feeling alright. He pauses again, letting himself catch breath before checking on you. "Are you comfortable? Do you want to continue this?"

You nod, your fingers playing with the curls on the back of his neck. His hand is on your thigh, rubbing it lightly. "Yeah, I'm comfortable." You nod softly.

He beams, a slight huff of excited laughter hitting your face. "You'll let me know if it's too much?" He asks softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"Mhm." You hum, pushing his head down to continue the kiss. He happily accepts the invitation, squeezing your thigh gently as his other arm is still wrapping under you as you lay on Theo's bed.

You both make out for a few more minutes. The touches become more and more heated with each second. Your nails dig into his shoulders as his hand travels up your thigh to rest on your hip underneath your skirt. A small moan rumbles against his lips as your back arched slightly against the mattress. His finger loops under the band of underwear on your hip.

As he begins to tug slightly, the door flys open and you and Joel rip apart from each other. Joel hops off the bed, scratching the back of his neck as his other hand travels to his front pocket. A poor attempt to hide the bulge in his jeans. You sit up on the bed, fixing your skirt and hair as you both look at the door.

Theo and Nessa stand at the door, their jaws dropped open at the sight in front of them. “No way,” A drunken Nessa giggled, covering her mouth.

“Nessa! Hi!” You squeak, getting up from the bed as the two drunken vampires giggle.

Joel’s face is beet red as his hands are stuck into his front pockets. You look over to see red lipstick smudged on his lips, some even in his stubble. You got hit with embarrassment, using your thumb to wipe around your lips to wipe off any smudged lipstick. “We were just getting some air.”

“More like sharing some air,” Theo laughs.

“Go back to the dorms,” Nessa smirks. “I’ll be here tonight.”

Instead of arguing you nod, grabbing onto Joel’s arm and leading him out of the room. The door closes behind you and you both look at each other in awe and embarrassment.

“Dude.” You breath out, a slow smile creeping onto your lips.

“That…” he tries to find words in his flustered state, “that was awkward.”

You both laugh, leaning into each other in a post make out haze. He tugs you into his arms for a moment, pulling you close as he rubs your back slowly. He presses a firm kiss to the crown of your head before pulling apart again.

“Should we head to your dorm?” He asks softly, biting the inside of his lip.

You smirk, grabbing his wrist. “C’mon, cowboy.”

┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ °

moot tags: @annasinterests @ilovepedro @mandoisapunk @party-hearses @nostalxgic @bastardmandennis

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #contractor!joel miller #college!reader #childhood best friends to lovers #joel miller x f!reader

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thetarttfuldickhead · 8 months

Text

The call connects and there’s Roy, seemingly back at his own house, seated on a grey couch and wearing a scowl dark enough to match his t-shirt and jacket.

Trent smiles, though carefully not too wide. “Hello Roy. Thank you for agreeing to this.”

Roy grunts. “Better you than any of the other wankers,” he mutters.

Trent makes an effort to hide his grin. Visibly gloating about having the sort of access to Roy Kent that other journalists – independent or disgraced or otherwise – can only dream of isn’t likely to get him the exclusive comments that he needs from Richmond’s head coach on today’s kerfuffle.

“So,” he offers smoothly, “what do you—“

He’s cut off by the loud bang of a door slamming shut on the other end and a startled fuck from Roy and then there’s Jamie Tartt’s head coming into view as it flops down on Roy’s lap. He must have thrown himself down onto the couch.

“It’s all such fucking bullshit, man,” Jamie pronounces dramatically as he – Trent’s eyebrows rise another inch – grabs Roy’s arm and pulls it over his chest, claiming half a cuddle. “Did you know—“

“I’m in the middle of an interview, you twat,” Roy barks, but he does not, Trent notes with increasing interest and incredulity, remove his arm.

“Since when do— ?” Lifting his head from Roy’s lap, Jamie blinks at the screen. “Oh! Uh. Hi, Trent! How you doin’, you good?” His grin is wide, easy, with no hint of embarrassment, and Trent finds himself smiling back. Jamie has always been charismatic, but the last few years have seen his swagger turn into a good-natured charm that’s surprisingly hard to resist.

“I’m fine, thank you, Jamie. And regarding the news this afternoon, how do you—“

“No,” Roy immediately says, shifting to push Jamie off his lap in spite of the younger man’s indignant protests. “He has no fucking comment. He’s not part of this conversation. He’s not even fucking here.”

“The fuck are you on about, mate, he can see I’m— “

“Go to the kitchen,” Roy interrupts. “Get me a whisky. If I have to listen to you complain about wankers on Twitter or split fingernails or whatever, I need a fucking drink.”

“You’re an arsehole,” Jamie tells him from out of the picture, but he doesn’t sound particularly upset. “I haven’t even got any split fingernails.” And then he must be off because he doesn’t say anything else and Roy turns back to Trent, glaring like he’s daring Trent to say it.

Trent, with equal parts cunning and self-preservation, says nothing at all. Waits.

Eventually, Roy’s shoulders drop a millimeter. He lets out a huff. “Jamie’s fucking needy, all right? He needs fucking hugs and shit and he turns into a moody bitch prima donna if he doesn’t get them, so.” He presses his lips together, having apparently said all he intends to say on the subject.

Trent had noticed Jamie’s fondness for hanging off anyone's and everyone’s shoulder during his season with the team. He hadn’t known and would never have imagined, though, that Roy would ever be willing to indulge the tendency, especially not to this degree. And that rather begs the question...

“Roy,” he says carefully. “You know that, if the two of you are—“

“We’re not.” And Roy closes his eyes, shakes his head. Opens them, looking resigned, but looking a little bit wry too. “Be less fucking weird if we were, wouldn’t it? But we’re not. It’s just… “ He pauses. Shakes his head again. “It’s Jamie. Just… fucking Jamie.”

“Except you are not,” Trent says, just to be clear, just because being a bit of an asshole is a habit, and fun.

“Except I’m not,” Roy growls, and looks like he’s about to add something more – something scatching and imaginatively insulting, Trent assumes – but then he lifts his head, turning towards someone offscreen. “What— ? Yeah, we’re fucking done. Bye, Crimm,” he adds, and then the screen goes dark as Roy abruptly ends the call.

“Bye, Roy,” Trent tells the silence. “I’ll just text you the questions, shall I? You can get back to me when you’re done giving Jamie Tartt a cuddle.”

#roy and jamie fucking are fun i guess #but them cuddling and being super intimate and deeply weird about each other while NOT fucking is also very very fun #as of 3x11 jamie has decided that roy is indeed his for the cuddling whenever jamie needs him to be #roy is resigned to this #he took one look at jamie and georgie and knew it was his destiny #and it’s not exactly hardship #and it’s quite nice to be needed #which still doesn’t stop him from calling jamie a bitch bc roy is still very much a work in progress #he'll get there #probably #also roy and trent's relationship is so special to me #if trent somehow started doing regular journalism again he would TOTALLY use the fact #that he's the one journo roy doesn't hate #roy would fucking mutter and grumble and complain about it #but would ultimately indulge him #just as he does for jamie #and phoebe and anyone that he cares about #trent crimm #roy kent #jamie tartt #ted lasso #roy & jamie #ficlet #my stuff

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writinground2 · 7 months

Note

62 with Katie mccabe where reader goes to games a lot and runs into her at a bar, things progress and whatever and Katie’s like… I feel like I know you from somehwere

Straw - Katie McCabe

Katie glared at the back of the man that pushed his way next to her at the bar. The man had pressed his way between her and another woman waiting for the bartenders attention. He angled his body to lean into the uninterested woman, offering to buy her a drink, asking her name a few times, introducing himself, and trying to say why she should give him a chance. Katie could see how uncomfortable the other woman was and was about to intervene when the man’s hand settled too low on her hip but was stopped as the bartender came over.

“There you go Stephen, tabs all settled up,” the bartender tried to draw his attention on to her, placing his credit card and receipt on the bar top.

“Nah, I didn’t ask to settle up,” he dismissed her, shoving his card back, but kept his eyes on the woman next to him.

“Nah mate, you did when you couldn’t accept no for an answer,” Y/N leaned on her hands, staring the man down as he shifted to look her.

“I’m not settling up, the lady wants to have a drink with me,” Stephen gave a smirk that Katie was sure he thought looked attractive.

“You’re already settled up, thanks for the great tip by the way,” Y/N smirked back. This one Katie knew looked attractive, it was a little shifted, tipped up higher on one side causing one dimple pop a little more than the other.

Stephen turned to fully face Y/N behind the bar now. Katie could see the shift in him as he did, the charming man gone, nothing but an angry glare on his face now, hands in tight fists. Y/N’s smirk didn’t leave her face, it got moderately wider. She was enjoying watching the bartender put this man in his place.

“I didn’t tip you shit and I’m not settling up, open my tab back up. Dumb bitch,” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head with a scoff.

“You –“ Katie loudly started, she wasn’t about to let this man speak to anyone this way.

“We’re done talking Stephen, time to go,” Y/N’s smirk left, face set hard, she was done talking to this ignorant man, motioning her hand to the entrance to the bar.

“You wanna fight, let’s fight,” he tossed his hands up, narrowly missing hitting people around him.

The smirk returned to Y/N’s face, “I would love to, truly, but I have people for that, meet Straw.”

Y/N gestured to the man standing behind Stephen. He wasn’t a large man, not physically intimidating. He was only average height, but his black t-shirt was stretched tight across a well-muscled body. Katie could see him clench his jaw, fighting a smirk.

“What kind of name is Straw?” Stephen didn’t even turn to look at the man, scoffing out a laugh.

“Because he makes people eat through a straw,” Y/N winked.

Now Katie could see Stephen shrink slightly, turning to see Straw standing behind him. He scoffed again when he saw the man standing a few inches shorter than him. Stephen moved quickly, wildly swinging an arm around to try and punch Straw.

Straw moved quicker though. His forearm connected with Stephens, before it wrapped around his shoulder, while his other hand grabbed the back of Stephens head, forcing him to bend at the waist. He applied pressure to Stephen’s shoulder, forcing it into an odd angle as he forced the man to walk out of the bar.

Everyone around watched shocked at how quick it all seemed to happen. The girl Stephen had been bothering, stood mouth agape as her friends gathered her and the group left the bar.

“Same same?”

Katie shook her head to see Y/N standing in front of her, she looked confused until she realized Y/N was asking if she wanted the same order of drinks she had last time.

“Oh, uhh, yea, same same,” Katie finally nodded, confirming her order.

Katie watched her work. She watched her hands work, forearms muscles popping while she gripped the liquor bottle. Biting her lip at the sight of veins on her hands.

“His name is actually Scott,” Y/N balanced two drinks in each hand as she placed them in from of Katie, stepping away and coming back to drop garnishes in each drink, “the bouncer, I just give him funny nicknames like that because it rattles the guys wanting to fight him.”

Katie couldn’t contain help but tip her head back as she let out a loud laugh, “and straw is what you came up with?”

“I change it each idiot he has to fight. He hates it, wants to keep that mean face on the whole time, so I try to make it so ridiculous to get him to crack.”

Y/N rapped her knuckles against the bar before moving on to help someone else at the bar.

Katie watched her as she tilted her head to the side, working to hear the customer better, exposing the expanse of her neck and the sharp cut of her jawline.

“Need a hand?” Katie was knocked out of her observation as Caitlyn came up next to her.

“Uh yea,” Katie twisted, shoving two of the drinks into Caitlyn’s hands.

Katie found her eyes drifting back to the bar the rest of the night, offering to go up for drinks each round. Each time she was helped the other bartender. As the might slowed and people left, she was able to watch how the bartenders acted when they weren’t constantly pouring drinks. She giggled softly when she watched the two bartenders lip sync to the song blasting over the speakers, dancing in place.

She wanted to stop at the bar on the way out, maybe get the chance to speak with Y/N again before leaving. But as they gathered their things from the table, she looked to the bar again to see Y/N’s partner alone, Y/N nowhere in sight. Sighing, she followed the girls out.

The players were making their way around the edge of the field after the game, signing and taking pictures, smiling as they went, trying to see as many fans as they could.

As fans became more excited, more and more pushing their way to the front, security and staff started to usher the players back into the tunnel. People continued to shout at the players, calling their names and demanding for them to come back.

Katie felt herself being tugged away from the railing as hands started reaching out to grab at her and the other players around. A foot connected with her shoulder as someone started to swing their body over the railing. She’s pulled further away and can see someone has a grip to the back of the mans shirt and belt, pulling him back from the railing, back to the side of the stands away from her and the other players.

She resists whoever is pulling her away, recognizing the person pulling the man away as the bartender from the weekend before. Y/N has pulled the man drunken man away from climbing onto the field and is now swatting wild swings from the man. Everyone else has cleared away from the pair now, not wanting to be involved.

The brunette shouldn’t want to laugh at the situation, but she does, a smile breaks out. Y/N looks board while she deflects the drunken swings, while telling the man to settle down and to stop.

Security gets down the stairs to where the fight is going on. Both are separated, the man now attempting to fight the two officers pulling him away. Y/N remains uninterested, but quickly becomes upset as the officers start to restrain her as well, arguing her case that she was trying to help.

“Oi! She’s good!” Katie tugs herself away from the staff, calling out to the security, “stop! Bring her back!”

Security stops pulling Y/N up the stairs but keep their hands on to ensure Katie is speaking to them. At Katies frantic nod, waving her back to them, they let her go apologizing for the mistake.

Y/N says it’s alright, even shaking their hands to show she’s alright, understanding they were working to keep the players safe.

“I feel like I know you from somewhere,” Katie tapped an index finger against her lips, pretending to think, “I thought you had guys for people like him?” Katie smiles at her, hands on her hip.

“I usually do, but it is way more fun when I get to do it myself,” Y/N had made it back to the railing, leaning her elbows against it.

“So, you make it a habit to get into fights with drunk men?”

“It’s one of my favourite past times actually,” Y/N says, trying to look serious, but Katie could see the sparkle in her eye.

They stand in awkward silence for a second, Katie doesn’t know what to say now. Does she thank her? Offer to sign her shirt?

“Uhh, great game,” Y/N gestured to the field.

“Thanks!”

Football she could talk about, but she can’t seem to think of anything else to say, so maybe not so much.

Y/N begins to say her good-bye, turning around to leave.

“Thanks!” Katie shouts as she turns, “thanks for grabbing the drunkard.”

Y/N turns back around, “no worries. Sorry to say, but your security didn’t really look like they had it handled there.”

By now the stadium is mostly cleared out, stadium staff working to start cleaning up after the game. Katie shivered, the cool fall air cutting through her sweat soaked kit.

Y/N notices, “I’ll let you go, you look cold. It was good seeing you again!”

Katie says good-bye too and lets Y/N leave. She groaned as soon as she entered the tunnel, scrapping a hand down her face, regretting that she couldn’t think of anything to say to keep Y/N around long.

“Chin up,” Leah pokes finger under her chin.

“Ugh, you saw that?”

“One of the benefits of not playing,” she shrugs with a grin, “get to hang around and watch you make a fool of yourself.”

Katie shoves Leah away from her with a groan, making her way into the change room.

The forwards shoulder drop when she scans the stands again before kick off, hoping to see Y/N back. Once the whistle is blown, she forgets all about scanning the crowd for Y/N, focused on the game going on.

At the final whistles, they all start waving to the fans, beginning to make their normal rounds again. Katies first heads to the section she had seen Y/N in the week before. She takes pictures and tries to give everyone her attention, but she keeps pulling away to look around the crowd, hoping to see Y/N again.

“We gotta stop meeting like this,” Katie hears as she walks back into the tunnel, stopping in her tracks. Looking up, she sees Y/N leaned against the wall just inside the tunnel.

“It’s a little stressful when security comes and asks you to come with them right when the game starts. Worked out alright when they gave me this thing though,” she tugged at the access pass around her neck, “not as fun without the drunks though.”

“How’d you get that?”

Y/N’s face drops. Katie wants to slap herself. That’s the first thing she decides to say?

“Leah. She had security come and get me and bring me up to the box with her.”

Y/N fidgets with the pass, “sorry, Leah must have gotten the wrong impression.”

Pushing off the wall, she starts to make her way down the hallway she was brought in from.

“Fuck,” Katie takes quick steps to catch up to Y/N, “Leah didn’t get it wrong. I was just surprised. I promise I am happy you’re here. Let me change quick and I can take you for a drink?”

Y/N smiles, nodding and moves to lean against the wall again.

Katie rushes into the locker room, shouting a quick ‘thank you’ to Leah.

Minutes later Katie bursts back into the hallway, hair still damp while she pulls it into a bun. Whipping her head around looking for Y/N.

“Over here,” Y/N calls from the end of the hallway with a wave.

Letting out a relieved sigh, she makes her way to Y/N, “I don’t know about you, but how about dinner too?”

Y/N agrees and lets Katie lead her from the stadium. Katie flipping off a few of her teammates who joke to her on the way out.

#woso imagine #woso x reader #katie mccabe x reader #katie mccabe imagine

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axl-rose-lover-1987 · 7 months

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“You Don’t Really Hate Me”

Axl Rose x reader

90s Axl

Warning: some smut

y/b/n = your bands name

You were exhausted literally two days ago you had finally made it home to your apartment after touring for what felt like eternity. You and your band had been on tour with Guns N’ Roses and Metallica. It was one of the greatest and worst experiences of your life. You had planned on spending this whole week recovering and sleeping alone in your apartment but your manager had scheduled lots of press for after the tour. So here you sat half awake in a stupid MTV interview answering question after question. They were all boring questions too the same old same old what’s it like being the lead singer? Was it hard to be the only female singer on tour? Did you enjoy it? And blah blah blah.

“So what did you think of that Axl Rose guy is he a jerk like they say?” The interviewer asked. Shit you thought yes he was he really was. Well to clarify to you Axl was. You had seen Axl be perfectly nice to other people on tour including your other band mates but you he was always a real dick to you. He would make rude comments about you and he would talk to your lead guitarist instead of you. He was always late to shows which messed up when you would preform and one time you went backstage to confront him only to find him eating out some stupid groupie. Damn did that guy piss you off. “Y/n you didn’t respond did you hear me?” The interviewer asked. You didn’t realize you spaced out thinking about how much you hated that guy. “Sorry sorry um” “We just well hes kinda a dick” you said. The interviewer seemed very intrigued now. “Really care to elaborate” the interviewer said grinning. “Well Axls got a huge ego, he was very rude to me, and he’s dramatic that’s all .” You said smirking. “I guess the rumors are true than” the interviewer said. “Yeah something like that” you said. You could tell the interviewer wanted more drama but you were so over doing press. Finally the interview ended and you decided you needed a drink so you made your way to the bar.

Axls POV:

I’m finally done with touring for now I need a day to fucking relax. I was channel surfing when I landed on MTV. And there she was that girl from y/b/n she had been a real bitch to me the whole tour. “So what do you think of that Axl Rose guy?” The interviewer on the tv asked. This made my ears peek up. And sure enough she dragged my name threw the mud what a pussy I know why she doesn’t like me, and I don’t like her that’s just how it was the whole tour. Her interview ended with that I was done with tv I needed a drink.

~time skip~

You sat at the bar counter taking shots and trying to unwind. It had been working so far and no one recognized you so you were enjoying yourself. Then that’s when he came in. He was wearing a t shirt and some basketball shorts and sunglasses covered his eyes. But you knew. You knew it was him he took a seat farther down on the counter away from you. You wanted to leave the last thing you needed today was confrontation with Axl. You waited until the bar got a little busier and now more people were standing around. You made a break for it and kept your head low. Then you ran into someone. “Sorry” the voice said. You knew that husky voice it was Axls “it’s fine” you said trying to get away before he realized it was you. “Hey wait a damn minute” Axls voice said. Then a hand grabbed your arm pulling you back in front of Axl. “You really thought I’d let you get away with saying all that shit about me sweetheart?” Axl said in a very snooty voice. “Shut up Axl” you said trying to walk away. He stuck his arm out. “No,no sweetie if you’ve got something to say about me say it my face” Axl said smirking. “Fine your a dick” you said crossing your arms and looking him dead in the eye.

Axls POV:

I really didn’t expect y/n to say that to me I thought she’d chicken out. But now I didn’t know what to do. I was half pissed and half turned on to be honest. I was also a little drunk but messing with y/n was one of my favorite things “Really well your a bitch” I said back at her. She blew me off and started to walk away again “No no your coming with me I’ll show you how much of a dick I am” I said grabbing her arm and leading her out of the bar.

You didn’t know what to do. Everything stopped your brain knew it wasn’t a good idea to go with Axl but somehow every rational thought you had didn’t matter at all you were going with Axl. Axl took you to his apartment he never exchanged a word with you the whole walk there. Then when he got in the apartment he sat right on his couch and didn’t even look at you. This went on for at least 10 mins before you had enough. “What the fuck Axl you drag me to your apartment you won’t fucking leave me alone at the bar, you treated me like actual shit on the tour and now you’re giving me the silent treatment.” You said you were so enraged at him. He sat quiet for another few mins. You were done. “I’m leaving” you said making your way to the door. “Fuck you” you said about to leave. “Wait” Axl said. “You don’t really hate me y/n” Axl said smirking. You walked back over to the couch. “You hate that I won’t give you the time of day, I give it to everyone else, I give it to all these other girls.” Axl paused and stood up his face now inches from yours. “You want my full attention you want me” his breath fanned over your neck and his voice was heavy with lust. “You want me to make you feel special you’ve seen me do it to other people you want my validation but I won’t give it to you and that pisses you off doesn’t it sweetheart.” Axl said in your ear. You were frozen he was right. He read you like an open book. “I bet you wished you were that groupie you saw me with don’t you?” Axl said in a heavy whisper. Fuck was all your brain could think you needed Axl and he knew it he had you all vulnerable for him. You couldn’t look him in the eyes you stared down at the carpet. “Y-yes” you said quietly. “Look at me baby” Axl said lifting up your chin. Your eyes met his. “Y-yes” you said a little bit louder. “You want me to give you all my attention sweetheart you want me to make you feel all special?” Axl asked. “Yes” you said in a weak voice. “Ok baby” Axl said.

He lead you to his bedroom. You both were now naked. Axl laid down on the bed. “Come here sugar” he said to you. You came over to him. His hands guided your hips and soon his cock found your entrance. “Oh-Axl” you moaned taking him in. “Shhh ride me baby” Axls hands guided your hips up and down on his cock he started out nice and slow. “I’ll kiss you threw it” Axl said. He kept kissing you as you rode his cock. He would whisper things into your hair but one time he said loud enough for you to hear. “Your so beautiful you know that right your so fucking beautiful.” He really was making you feel special, extremely special. As Axl sped up his pace your cum began to spill onto his dick. He then pulled out and you both rode out your orgasms. “I knew you never really hated me” Axl said. “Shut up dick” you said now sorta using it as a pet name for him. Axl laughed. “You know I always kinda like you” Axl said. “I always liked you too” you said. Axl leaned over and started to kiss you. “Remember this the next time you try to drag my name threw the mud though ok sugar” Axl said pulling away from the kiss and winking at you. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget tonight” you said. “Yeah this’ll be something we tell our kids” Axl said. “Our kids?” You said. Axl laughed. And then it was quiet. Axl then broke the silence “I really am sorry for being a dick to you I didn’t mean to do that but I can be difficult.” Axl said in a sincere tone. “It’s ok thanks for apologizing” you said. Axl smiled. “Damn the press will go wild if they find this out” Axl said laughing. “Yeah they will” you said. You and Axl were now cuddling in the bed watching tv when Axl flipped it to MTV news. “A recent source has turned in photos of Axl Rose and y/n l/n holding hands and leaving a bar together.” “Y/n was just recently saying how she hated Rose, was it a cover up? Or are they enemies to lovers?” Axl flipped off the tv after that and you both looked at each other wide eyed. You both were in for a lot of shit that’s for sure.

#guns n roses #axl rose #rockstar #fanfic #gnr fanfiction #axl rose smut #axl rose x reader

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wrestletotheground · 2 months

Text

pierced - ross macdonald x reader

cw: 18+ minors dni!!! smut, sub ross (ik I'm losing the run of myself), established relationship, nipple piercings, sexual tension, sending nudes, ab riding, unprotected sex

a/n: the long awaited Nipple Piercing Gf Fic™️ is here at last 🥳 this took way too long to be this mid but enjoy whores <3 (esp anon who requested this months ago oops)

wc: 2.8k

today is the day. you're finally seeing ross after 3 weeks of him being away on tour. he's arranged to have you flown in to one of the shows and to spend a few days with him and the band.

as you walk through the arrival gates of the airport, you're instantly met with three familiar faces. george, matty and ross are standing watching the door, waiting for you. as soon as they see you their faces light up. of course you run straight to ross, who's walking towards you with his arms out holding a bouquet of your favourite flowers. he embraces you in his arms, both of you gushing about how much you missed each other while your face is buried in his chest.

you pull away after a few moments and take the flowers, your heart melting at the gesture, to greet the others. matty brings you in for a hug, a sleepy smile on his face as he exclaims how they've all been dying to see you.

george does the same, and when you step back he's the first to notice the new piercings poking through your t-shirt. he looks up at you, a knowing look in his eyes and a smirk pulling at his mouth. 'oh he's going to lose his mind', he says quietly with a grin. you giggle and hit his arm lightly, then make your way over to ross again.

that's when he catches sight of them. he's been staring at you ever since you approached him but now his eyes are instantly drawn to the metal balls of your nipple piercings showing through the cotton of your baby tee. his jaw practically hits the floor before his face catches up with his brains and he looks back up at you, wide eyed. you smile innocently as he looks away, rubbing his lip with his hand and smiling to himself in an attempt to hide how flustered he's getting. 'what?' you cock your head to the side, acting oblivious.

'baby.. did you..' his gaze flicks back down as he speaks, staring in disbelief. 'I got them done the day after you left, thought you'd like a little surprise after being away for so long,' you say. 'fucking hell,' he mutters, his face flushed. he adjusts his jeans not-so subtly and shifts his stance, clearly getting worked up over the jewelry.

'you like them?' you ask with a smirk. 'do i like them?? darling if it wasn't frowned upon to fuck you in public i'd know what they taste like already'. you glance over at the others who are most definitely in earshot of the unfiltered sentence that's just left your boyfriend's mouth but it's not like they haven't heard worse from the two of you before anyway.

'right lovebirds, off we go. this car's not gonna drive itself,' george states, flicking his keys in his hand before setting off towards the car park. him and matty lead the way with you and ross following closely, just far enough behind so you can both talk properly.

the entire walk ross has you on his arm, every so often leaning in to whisper vulgar promises of the things he's gonna do to you once you're alone later. your other hand grips onto the bouquet tightly as your whole body burns with desire for him already, and you've only just arrived. this is going to be a long day.

the four of you are settled and on the road when matty explains the plan for the day to you. 'so we're going straight to the venue for sound check, then out for dinner with everyone, then it's showtiiime baby'. ross's eyes widen and his head snaps towards the front of the car. 'wait a minute, what? I thought we were going back to the hotel first,' he says, trying to hide the desparation in his tone as he looks over at you.

'no time, sorry mate I know you've missed her but it'll have to wait til later,' matty replies, throwing you a wink in the rear view mirror. 'right fuck off,' he laughs, covering his face and hanging his head in exaggerated shame. you stifle a giggle, grabbing hold of his hand that's resting on the middle seat.

the rest of the car ride is simmering with tension between you and ross. although you're acting casual with the other two in the front seats, you can't help the pulsing ache that's building in your core, worsening every time you catch the glint in his eyes as you're talking.

sound check goes pretty well, and it's great to be reunited with the rest of the band and crew that you've missed from last time you were on tour with them. well, except for the fact ross keeps getting distracted by you, messing up bass lines that have been purely muscle memory for years every time he glances over to the edge of the stage where you're sitting chatting with carly. every time you catch his eye you give him a smile and an encouraging nod to let him know you're listening to him play.

as sound check finishes, everyone agrees that they don't want to go anywhere too fancy to eat, and that's how you find yourself in the booth in the corner of a local retro style diner. ross is involved in nearly every conversation you're a part of, completely enamoured by you as usual. you're in the middle of a conversation with him, polly and john about their spotify wrapped when you excuse yourself to the bathroom, leaving the three of them talking amongst themselves.

you lock the cubicle door behind you when an idea springs to mind. you sit on the closed toilet lid and take your phone out of your pocket. you open the camera, lifting the hem of your tshirt up to your neck and leaving your whole chest on display. you cover one of your tits with your open palm, making sure to have the nipple on show through your spread fingers. you snap a few pictures and then flick through them quickly to find the best one that shows off every curve just right. you open your chats with ross and hit send without a second thought.

ross's phone buzzes on the table and when he checks to see the picture in his inbox he nearly chokes on his drink. he rushes to hide his phone under the table, earning strange glances from a few of the others, which quickly dissipate into the back of his mind when he turns down his brightness and enlarges the picture. his pants suddenly feel too tight, and he's fighting the urge to run into the bathroom and bend you over the sink there and then, make you scream for him. he clicks the phone off and shoves it into his back pocket, clearing his throat to cover the desperate groan that lingers in his throat.

you saunter back over to the table with your boyfriend's flustered gaze watching you the whole way. he leans in close to you as soon as you're sat. 'you're killing me, love,' he whispers. 'oh baby, it'd be no fun if i wasn't, you know that,' you reply in a hushed tone, planting your hand on his thigh as you take a sip of your diet coke.

the concert goes pretty well, except for the fact that ross is distracted by the thought of you the whole time, standing side stage watching and waiting for him.

he's never been more thankful for the fact he plays bass so low as it covers the achingly obvious bulge in his trousers that's there practically the whole two hours they're performing.

the rest of the guys had gone out for drinks after the show, but you and ross literally couldn't wait a second longer than necessary to be alone.

after an excruciating elevator ride alongside a tired, unassuming businessman, you finally get to your hotel room. he's fumbling with the key as you wait impatiently beside him, already shivering at the thought of his touch.

he finally gets the key to work and barges through the door, barely having a chance to slam it behind the two of you and flick on the light before he has you pinned against the wall, kissing and grabbing at you like a starved man. his mouth melts against yours, his taste almost overwhelming.

your jacket falls to the floor behind you, giving him a full view of your hardened nipples through the tshirt again. 'get this off darling, need to see you,' he mumbles, already dizzy at the feeling of you against him at last.

you oblige, making a bit of a show out of it just to tease him even more. you fling it onto the floor behind you and he nearly falls to his knees at the sight. literally. he gets on his knees in front of you so that the piercings are at eye level with him, utterly enraptured by you. 'fuck,' he mumbles, before burying his face in your chest, moving around to swipe his tongue over the place he's been dying to taste all day.

you grab his head and pull him further into you, the pressure making your head spin. your head rolls back and all you can hear are your own sugary sweet moans and the wet noises of his mouth working it's magic on you.

'get on the bed, need to be on you,' you say through stuttered breaths. he moans into your tit, reluctantly moving his head back up to yours and dragging you over until he falls onto the bed with you between his legs.

you immediately pull his top off, throwing it off somewhere behind him. you watch the way his necklace bounces onto his chest and nearly fold at the sight of him. then without warning you pull down your trousers and practically jump onto him, pushing him down onto his back. his eyes flash with darkness, muttering under his breath as he drinks in your body greedily. you shuffle down to undo his pant zipper, a hungry look plastered across your face. after some fumbling and a nod of approval from him, you manage to get his jeans and briefs off, leaving him fully undressed and achingly hard.

the second you're back on top of him he pulls your neck down to meet his lips in a bruising kiss, practically devouring each other.

the sudden contact of your spread cunt with his skin makes you gasp, he's real, he's there. much as you tried over the past few weeks, your hand has been a weak replacement for him, for the way your bodies fit together like puzzle pieces of euphoria.

you hook your finger under his chain, tugging it towards you with just enough force to make the gold metal dig into the back of his neck, forcing him to strain up towards you.

'are you gonna be a good boy and let me get off first or do you want me to make you beg for it?' you're practically mewling to him, tilting your head back and looking at him through half-lidded eyes.

'yes- ah- fuck- please love, use me- mfh,' he whines, biting his lip as you roll your hips back, your ass pressing against his aching cock.

you start to grind slowly on his lower stomach, feeling the muscles tighten and contract with every breath. his belly has always been one of your favourite parts of him, and you make sure he knows it.

'fuck, i've missed you baby, missed this,' you moan, the friction hitting just right as he arches up into you ever so slightly.

he grabs a strong hold of your hips, guiding your movements and gaping up at you. 'that feel good?' he asks shyly. 'so fucking good, you've- mmh- no idea.' that's clearly exactly what he needed to hear, you can feel his cock jumping at your words, tipping off your lower back.

you can feel your slick spreading down further by the second as you near your peak, nearly reaching your thighs.

he pulls you closer onto him, desperate to please you as he rocks your pussy over him. 'god, I'm gonna cum, you feel so good, fuck.' you study his face, in a state of hazy disbelief over how hot he is, and your stomach tightens rapidly when you hit a certain angle. 'right there- keep going- ughhhh GOD ross.'

your orgasm washes over you in waves as your eyes roll into your head, trying to keep your shaky figure from falling onto him as you ride out your high. his fingertips dig into your sides and his eyes glaze over with lust, fixated on your every move. 'you're so fucking beautiful falling apart on me like that,' he whispers. 'you're fucking perfect, I love you,' you reply, smashing your mouth against his again, messier this time.

the hairs that litter his lower stomach are soaked, covered in you. just below that his cock is leaking and swollen, looking like he could cum right there and then untouched, and the sight alone makes your mouth water.

'since you've been so good for me, what do you want?' you ask, running a hand down his face and around the back of his neck.

'you, fuck, ride me, please' he stutters, chest rising and falling rapidly under you. as though any inhibitions have been wiped from his brain.

he's so desperate it's honestly cute. it's rare that he's so submissive but you're relishing in the power rushing to your head.

's'that what you want baby?' he nods his head quickly and his hips lift into you subconsciously, desperately. you rise up on your knees and shuffle backwards, lining him up with your dripping entrance.

he's barely inside you and he's already straining and groaning, his face turning red as he tries his best to hold out for you. you start moving up and down with fervor, greedily chasing your own high again. you can tell neither of you are going to last long with the fact you've been apart for so much time.

his eyes are drawn to the piercings again and he looks up at you pleadingly. you lean forward, starting to circle your hips as he dips his head down to take one in his mouth. your eyes roll back as the feeling of his tongue circling your sensitive nipples sends electricity shooting through you. 'fuck, knew you'd love it baby,' you moan, your hand running through his hair, tugging lightly every time he hits just right. his thighs tremble under you as you continue your unrelenting pace.

'being so fucking good for me,' you say, just to tease him even more. his eyebrows wrinkle and you can feel his movements getting less and less controlled, signalling that he's close.

'please, can I cum, please, mmh, need it,' he whines. his grip on your waist tightens as he pleads, teeth digging into his lip so hard you think it might bleed.

you lean down, never slowing your pace, and whisper in his ear.

'let go. cum for me, pretty boy'

his brain all but shuts down as his climax instantly crashes over him. unrestrained curses and groans fall from his raw red lips as his warmth pulses inside you. his hips buck off the mattress, burying his cock deeper inside you than before. the look on his face, eyes creased in ecstasy and jaw slack in pleasure is what tips you over the edge. with a final roll of your hips into him, the band inside you snaps. fireworks dance across your vision, crying out as you grip onto his shoulders, practically convulsing.

'fuckkkfuckfuck thank you, thank you,' he whimpers, eyes blown out with lust as he stares at you in awe. you finally let yourself collapse onto him, completely exhausted. his chest heaves under you as both of you catch your breath.

you prop your chin up on his chest, faces inches apart, letting comfortable silence envelop the two of you. his cheeks heat up, as if the realisation is dawning of just how submissive he's been. 'did you like that baby?' you ask. 'fuck, I loved it, you need to do that more often,' he laughs.

you sit up suddenly when you feel something dripping out of you slowly, and giggle at his reaction. his jaw is dropped, eyes focused on your core before he blinks and comes to. 'god, sorry- I just- right, let's get cleaned up,' he says, leaning up on his elbows. you press a kiss to his forehead to which he smiles, before following you up into the bathroom.

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