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cupid-styles · 2 months

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casual

partially based on casual by chappell roan and a lil bit of sad personal experience hehe

word count: 2k

content warnings: angst (no happy ending), references to smut, alcohol, harry being a douche, not ramadan friendly

main masterlist | talk to me

. . .

From: H (12:47 a.m.)

Come over?

To: H (12:50 a.m.)

Give me 15

From: H (12:52 a.m.)

. . .

It’s not unusual for her nights to look like this. Or her early mornings, rather.

It wasn’t always this way. When she first met Harry, she wanted nothing to do with him romantically or intimately. She’d heard about his reputation — it wasn’t anything bad as long as you were looking for the same thing. He was an expert in bed and the friends that slept with him always provided rave reviews. Ever excited rumblings of, “oh my God, he’s so caring! He made me finish twice before he even took his cock out” and “he’s the perfect one night stand — seriously, I’ve never had anyone better.”

But Y/N didn’t care for that.

She was a serial monogamous, always bumping around from one lengthy relationship to the next. In hindsight, she supposes she wasn’t any better than Harry, who earned his notoriety from a series — a long series — of casual hookups.

If you needed a rebound, you went to Harry.

If you were going through a dry spell, you went to Harry.

If you were just horny and needed someone to go home with at the end of the night (and he hadn’t miraculously already found somebody else yet), you went to Harry.

And Y/N never planned to sleep with him. Ever, really. He was a fine friend, someone who mixed well with their mutual friends, but they hardly exchanged conversation except for the occasional nicetie. She had his phone number from when he planned Rachel’s surprise birthday party last year and they were friends on Venmo, passing back the same $20 every month for drinks or a shared Uber.

That was the extent of their friendship.

Until a few months back, when Y/N was down in the dumps. She’d been seeing this girl, Samantha, for a month or two, assuming that they were headed straight towards a happy, exclusive relationship — only to discover that Samantha was sleeping with and seeing just about 10 other people on the side. And it only came out because Samantha happened to contract chlamydia from one of her sexual partners, so she’d been forced to tell Y/N for the sake of her health.

Y/N's friends, Rachel, Maeve, and Len gave her time to wallow. They offered it to her on a silver platter, even, offering multiple girls nights out (and in), providing Y/N all the space she needed to cry and complain and talk about how hurt she felt.

But then… a week of moping turned into two, which turned into three, which eventually turned into a month and a half. Her friends were exhausted from watching her spiral into sadness, so they did the only thing they knew: They sat her down and told her she needed to rebound. Fast.

“And who the hell am I supposed to rebound with?” Y/N asked through a sniffle. The only thing that made this whole thing worse was her friends staging an intervention for her because she was being annoyingly sad about her not-really-breakup-but-felt-like-a-breakup. “See, that’s the best part of being friends with a man whore,” Maeve replied eagerly. Len and Rachel sat on either side of her with bright eyes, nodding excitedly. “Harry! He already said he’s down and everything!” “Wait— you already asked him?” “We just put the idea in his head. Don’t worry, men are stupid,” Len quickly waved her off, “But he’s going out with everyone tonight. We’ll feed you a few shots to get you just buzzy enough, and then send you off to your night in heaven. You won’t even remember that girl’s name by the time Harry’s done with you!” Y/N cringed. “Hasn’t, like… everyone slept with him though?” Maeve shrugged. “Yeah, but he’s clean. He gets regular testing and uses condoms. Really, Y/N, it’s sort of a rite of passage at this point. But you should do it only if you’re comfortable— don’t let us force you into it.” Y/N swallowed tightly. She had to admit, the thought of a rebound sounded… appealing. She’d swiped through dating apps looking for one, but she was too scared that a one night stand would end in her bloody murder. And it helped that Harry already knew what he was doing, and— wait, was she crazy or was she actually starting to consider this? “Alright, fine,” she replied with a shaky exhale, “Let’s do this.”

That was four months ago.

And what was supposed to be an evening of stupid, lusty, casual sex turned into Y/N falling hard. It wasn’t her fault, though — no, not when he panted breathy promises into her mouth in the back of the Uber, mumblings of “just tonight, you know that, right?”. She’d replied just how she’d rehearsed it in her brain hours prior: “yes, yeah, I know— just tonight. Just for tonight.”

"Just for tonight" shifted into Harry asking her to stay until the morning for breakfast and shower sex. Then, the following weekend, he texted her the ever classy you still awake? at just past midnight. She was indeed up, doing nothing but rotting on her couch and watching a documentary about the deep sea — and her hookup with Harry had been good, really good, and she wasn’t going to turn down another night of orgasms.

As he wrapped a condom around his dick and pressed messy kisses down her neck, he whispered the same hurried sentiments from the weekend before: “didn’t see anyone I wanted tonight and we were good, yeah? It was good. So just… just one more night, okay? That’s fine, right?”

Foolishly, with flittering eyelashes and her nails scraping down her back as he pushed inside, she nodded and echoed his words. Just one more night, that’s fine.

It didn’t take long for their friends to catch on when Harry would leave the bar an hour early without looking for someone to take home. Or, when they’d both be out and, like magnets slowly being pulled towards one another, they’d end up kissing on the street as they waited for an Uber to take them back to Harry’s place.

The guys hounded Harry about it, asking if Y/N was finally the one to tie him down.

“Nah,” he’d reply with a shake of his head, “She’s a good girl. Too good for me.”

When Y/N’s friends demanded to know every last detail, she shrugged.

"I'm not really sure. It's... good, I think."

They only responded with small, tight smiles.

. . .

“Your mom texted me today. She invited us to come see them this weekend.”

Harry doesn’t reply — or rather, he makes an unassuming humming noise — as he gets out of Y/N’s bed, untangling his naked form from her sheets. He hunts down his briefs and pulls them on before stretching his arms out.

“Did you eat dinner?” he asks, grabbing her tee-shirt off the floor and tossing it to her. She sits up, tightening the sheet around her chest. She shakes her head as she clutches the fabric of her shirt in her hands and watches him scroll on his phone.

“No. I thought we could get something.”

Harry hums again, pinching his bottom lip between his fingers. Swallowing, Y/N puts her shirt back on. She’s not sure why, but she always feels oddly vulnerable once they’ve finished hooking up. When she’s still naked and he’s already moved onto the next thing, like having plans with the guys or taking a shower before he heads home. She'd even purchased his favorite body wash and shampoo when he started sticking around a bit longer, but he'd never even mentioned it or uttered a thank you.

“Yeah, maybe,” he finally replies. He locks his phone and places it back on the ledge of the TV stand in her bedroom. The simple act makes her heart jump — usually, he’ll stuff his phone in his pocket as he’s leaving. Maybe he was planning on staying the night. “So listen, I know I took you to dinner at my parents’ place that one time, but I don’t really feel comfortable with you talking to my mom.”

Y/N furrows her brows in confusion. “She texted me, H. I don’t, like, regularly reach out to her.”

“Right, but it just makes this whole thing feel way more serious than it is.” he says, sitting back down on the bed. He maintains a steady distance between them and it makes a small lump form in Y/N’s throat.

“Okay,” she murmurs slowly, “That’s fine, I get it. But… we never really talked about what this is.”

Harry glances up with wide, confused eyes. “We’ve said it a million times, Y/N. This is casual. Completely and totally casual sex.”

An ugly, involuntary chortle leaves her chest. He raises his eyebrows.

“We’ve been fucking for four months. That’s not really casual.”

“Yes, it is. It’s friends with benefits.”

“Sure, maybe, but that’s if you explicitly outline that you’re just having sex. No feelings involved.”

“We did that.”

“When?”

“At the beginning,” Harry responds. He seems frustrated now, but it feels as though he’s recalling a memory that Y/N was never even around for. “Remember? I told you, it was all just for tonight type shit. Nothing real.”

“Then why the fuck did you take me to your parents’ house two months ago?” Y/N demands, anger rising in her chest, “And why am I your date to all of your stupid, boring work events? And why the hell are you at my house like four times a week, and why do you have a drawer full of my clothes at your place?”

“Y/N—”

“This isn’t fucking casual, Harry. This is dating. You’re dating me and you don't even realize it.”

“I would know if I was dating you, but I never asked you to be my girlfriend. I don’t want a girlfriend, you know that.”

She groans and shakes her head, ignoring the way her jaw already aches from clenching it so hard. She grabs a clear pair of underwear from her drawer and quickly slips them on. Harry’s silent the entire time.

Suddenly, she whips around and faces him. “Have you been fucking other people?”

A wrinkle forms between his brows. He shakes his head.

“No. I wouldn’t do that, and it’s unsafe.”

“Right,” she murmurs, placing her hands on her hips, “So piece it together, Harry. Neither of us are sleeping with other people. We’re exclusively seeing one another.”

“You’re just making this out to be way more of a thing than it is—”

“Oh, fuck off!” she exclaims, “You have a key to my house! That’s pretty serious!”

“I didn’t ask you for that!” he fires back as he stands up from the bed. They’re in a stand-off now, staring at one another with angry eyes. She snorts and shakes her head in disbelief.

“My friends were so fucking right about you. You’re such an asshole. You know Maeve called me a loser for thinking you were a good guy?”

Harry rolls his eyes as he grabs his phone and sweater, “Yeah, I’m sure.”

They don’t exchange any other words as he leaves her room. She sits back down on the edge of the mattress, listening as he stuffs his feet in his sneakers and slams the front door shut. She doesn’t even notice that tears are lining her eyes and falling onto the apples of her cheeks.

. . .

It’s barely 48 hours later when Y/N’s watching a YouTube video as she stands in the bathroom, doing her nighttime routine.

Like four months prior, when she hoped Harry would be a good rebound for her heartbreak, she's been moping around in self-hatred and sadness. She's in awe of how cruel and oblivious he's being, but more than that, she can't believe she actually believed he had real feelings for her. Ones that extended beyond sex.

She’s brushing her teeth when she notices a text notification come down, redirecting her attention from the influencer vlog to read the name of the sender. She taps on it to see a familiar initial.

From: H (10:32 p.m.)

Sorry for what I said. Can I come over?

748 notes · View notes

theplumsoldier · 5 months

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sore loser

summary: the scales of your rivalry with joel miller tips in his favor as he calls out your mistake and you end up a loser. the classic "you hate your partner but fucks him anyway"

pairing: mean!joel miller x afab!reader

warnings: 18+ please and thank you, hate sex, rough vaginal sex, spitting, slapping, choking, fingering, squirting, sloppy/rough blow job, degradation, age-gap, begging, biting, mean!joel, forced orgasm & multiple orgasms, tasting joel's blood?? no aftercare please let me know if i missed anything!! (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.)

You hated everything about him. You hated the way he looked, the way he spoke, and the way he walked. You hated how he was always confident, how he was always right, and the fact that he always knew which buttons to push. You hated how he was a better shooter than you, how he was better at finding supplies than you, and how he was better at tracking than you. You hated his salt-and-pepper beard, the curls in his hair, and his sun-kissed skin. You hated his brown eyes, his deep voice, and his large hands. You hated how he treated you like a child, how he called you "kid", and how he looked after you.

Most of all, right now, you hated that he shot the clicker before you managed to put a knife to its skull, how he made it look like you couldn't save yourself. He took the win and he got the point.

It was a game and you were losing this battle for dominance, and you hated losing to Joel Miller.

You had been biting your tongue so damn hard to keep yourself from stooping down on his level and the taste of blood lingered in your mouth for about 4 minutes before the last straw had been drawn.

Joel just couldn't stop himself from being an ass and work in yet another one of his snarky remarks.

"Get over yourself, Miller. I had it handled," you grumbled.

"Sure looked like it," he retorted sarcastically, making scattering noises as he dug through a crate in the warehouse.

The way he didn't even bother looking at you only made you more furious. "How the fuck do you think I survived this long on my own, huh? I've been—"

"Ask myself that every time I save your ass," he interrupted mockingly.

Your blood was boiling in your veins. He felt so fucking superior and it was driving you insane. You knew your worth, but for some reason, you had this crippling urge to prove yourself.

"Somebody needs to knock you off your fucking horse, Miller."

Joel chuckled grimly. "S'that right, sweetheart? Wanna give it a go?"

His infuriating words made you stand to your feet, and frankly, it excited Joel to see you acting like you might just do something about it.

With a groan he got up himself, easily towering over you. You swallowed harshly, jaw clenched.

Joel's face was set in a firm expression, dark eyes analyzing your face to predict your next move. It was a face-off.

There was a subtle smirk and you wanted to wipe it off so badly. This was entertaining to him—a challenge he joined, a game he played just for the kick of it.

You couldn't win a fight against him, you were smart enough to recognize that fact (at least for now). So you breathed out, your nervousness drawing out a shaky laugh.

"I hate you," you spat and turned around, sure you'd only dig a deeper hole for yourself if you looked at him any longer.

"That what you tell yourself when you dip your little fingers down between your legs?" he wondered aloud, not even testing the waters but diving head first into the lake of all your buttons that he planned to push: "Don't think I don't hear you moaning my name when you get off in the night."

Your eyes went wide and shame colored your cheeks pink. You hoped he wouldn't notice as your eyes shot daggers, completely dumbfounded, hoped your anger had already made your face red. You were at a loss for words, completely and utterly embarrassed.

The mixture of emotions compiled a message to your brain for you, and before you had a chance to regret it, you lashed out. Your hand stopped clenching and raised to deliver a well-deserved proper bitch-slap, but Joel caught your wrist. It all happened quickly, and it felt like you were watching on rather than being forced back against the wall, arms suspended against the cool and rough cement in his grasp.

Joel's head cocked, eyes blazing down at you. "You wanna try that again, sweetheart?"

The sudden close proximity made you involuntarily grind your hips forward.

"So that's what all this s'about, huh? You’ve been givin' me that bratty attitude 'cause ya got your panties in a twist?"

"Fuck you!" you snapped, the words seething through your grit teeth, leaving a bad aftertaste on your tongue.

"But that's what you want, innit sweetheart? Goin' around acting like I'm the devil's spawn, but really you just want a good fucking, yeah?"

You hated how he was always right.

Your arms strained in his grasp, writhing to get loose though the heat pooling between your legs protested. You enjoyed having him this close. You could smell him, see him.

"You're so fucking full of yourself, Miller," you snarled but had stopped trying to fight off his grip.

Joel chuckled down at you, tutting: "F’you wanna be full o' me, too, darlin', all you gotta do is ask nicely."

There was no fucking way he was actually offering to fuck you. It had to be a dream. A nightmare. But it wasn't. And he was offering exactly that, you realized as his head tilted. He was dead serious.

You knew it wasn't out of the good of his heart, so he must be wanting this, too. And if he needed it as much as you did, you were going to make him work for it.

You ground your hips into his again, this time very much on purpose.

"Tell me you don't want to bend me over right now, Miller," you leaned forward and whispered in his ear, letting your lips graze the soft flesh of his neck. His cock was hard against your cunt and he didn't do a thing to push you away. "Tell me you haven't just been dying to try out this tight pussy. An old man like you can't have had a proper fuck in ages."

He laughed. "Swallow your pride, sweetheart. You've never even been with a real man before, have ya? Always waltzin' around in your short skirts at the Byson, whoring yourself out for attention from those boys."

"Knew you'd been checking me out," you smirked, the movements of your hips now a consistent grind against him. "But you're right. And those boys can't help, they dunno how to handle me."

"I don't do charities, darlin'. F’you want me to fuck that shitty attitude out of ya, you're gonna have to prove yourself."

This time around, Joel pushed his clothed cock against your pussy and you knew what he wanted.

You wriggled your hands, inching closer to his face but never letting your skin touch. "Kinda difficult to get on my knees when you’re holding me like this, innit?"

Joel let go only to force you down on the ground, but you didn't protest. You had lost all filters, all of your arrogance as you were faced with his cock prodding at the zipper of his jeans.

Looking up as you eagerly undid his belt, you were pleased to see him inhaling deeply, proudly as he looked down on you. You pulled the zipper down, and your breath hitched as his cock saluted. He wasn't wearing underwear.

His cock was thicker than you had imagined, girthier than what you had felt while fingering yourself that night which he had so mockingly reminded you of. Long with a slight curve and a purple mushroom head unscathed. A drop of pre-cum covered the slit and you imagined it was crying for you.

"You gonna put that bratty little mouth to good use or do I gotta do that for you, too?"

Instinctively you glared up at him, giving him a look but it was washed away a second later as he took charge.

Grabbing a fistful of your hair, Joel forced you onto his cock, not giving you a second to wet your lips or spit on it. Harshly pushing you down on his cock, you found that it wasn't needed, there was plenty of saliva in your mouth to lubricate him. A whimper left you when his head hit the back of your mouth, your throat automatically constricting at the sudden intrusion. You felt your cunt mimic the reaction and clenched around nothing.

Joel was heavy in your mouth, the thickness making you worry the back row of your teeth would scrape him. If they did he didn't care, for when you looked up at him through teary eyes he was unconcerned.

He forcefully prodded against your throat, slipping in just enough to push further and you gagged.

Joel inhaled sharply. "S'a tight little throat you got there. Guess you haven't been whoring around as much as I thought," he chuckled, holding your face pressed firmly against him, your nose nuzzled in the patch of curls.

He held you there for a couple of seconds, allowing your throat to get adjusted despite acting seemingly careless about how you felt. A moment later he pulled you off by your hair, and you gasped hoarsely, blinking up at him through the tears slowly blurring your vision.

Hovering over you, Joel cupped your cheeks and lifted you slightly, bending down as he did. For a second you thought he was going to kiss you, but his fingers dug into your face, forcing your mouth open for him and he spat on your tongue, an obscene look on his face.

"Eyes on the price, sweetheart," he chuckled and landed you back on your knees.

With his hand holding you tightly by a makeshift ponytail, Joel pushed his cock back into your mouth and without warning, set a brutal pace sure to give you a headache. As slick gathered between your legs, a migraine was the least of your worries. You snaked a hand between your legs to relieve the tingling strain.

The breaths you were granted came in between the thrusts and you squeezed your eyes shut, feeling dizzy, prompting him to yank at your hair.

"Look at me," he grunted coarsely, voice going straight to your sex and you ground down hard on your hand, gasping for air. Joel admired your puffy lips, smeared with saliva, strings of drool connecting your mouth to the tip of his cock. "You look like a fuckin' mess, sweetheart. This what you been thinkin' about, hm? Been thinking 'bout acting like a little slut f'me, huh?"

His degrading words fueled your fire, both making you want to bite back at him and make him come down your throat. Opting for the latter, you tried to take him back in your mouth, wanting to put your adjusted throat to good use, but he yanked you back. A whimper left your lips and he slapped your cheek, forcing you to look at him.

"F'you know what's good for you, you'll answer when I ask you a question."

Wet and needy, you didn't hesitate. "Yes! Yes, Joel," you cried, one hand on his hip for purchase, the other hid between your legs, fervently toying with your clit. "Wanted you to treat me like a whore! Wa—wanted you to fuck me stupid!"

That's when he noticed your hand between your legs, eagerly seeking out friction. His brows connected in a crease of anger, and he had you on your wobbly legs one moment and hurled you onto a dirty surface the next.

"The fuck you think you're doin', huh? Touching yourself without permission?" Joel growled and for the first time his disappointment got to you.

He held you by your throat and you could feel the calluses in his palm scrape your skin.

"M'sorry—couldn't help myself," you babbled feverishly as he shoved a hand down your undone pants, feeling just what you had been so disrespectful to touch.

A guttural moan escaped him and you could have died just then, knowing you did that to him.

"Christ, sweetheart. You got this wet from chokin' on my cock, huh?" he mused absent-minded and you couldn't decide which you liked more; Joel calling you "sweetheart" or— "such a fuckin' slut.”

You were startled but thankful when he pulled down your jeans in one swift movement, exposing you to the cold air in the warehouse.

He didn't give you a warning before he plunged two fingers into your cunt, curling them against the velvety roof of your wet cave. Clawing onto his shoulder with a gasp of surprise, you instinctively tried to lift yourself and relieve the overwhelmingly intense feeling.

"Where you goin', sweetheart? This not what you wanted?" You desperately wanted to slap the grin off of his face, but he had you completely wrapped around his finger. Literally and figuratively. "Didn't you wanna be used like a little slut, hm?"

"Please," you begged, drawing the word out with a rugged moan and clutching to his shoulders. "Ff—uck!"

He fingered you at an unforgiving pace, three fingers and his palm slapping against your cunt each time. The squelches from your pussy resonated off the bare walls and if you hadn't been so focused on the pain mixing with pleasure, you would have been ashamed Joel was the one making you this wet.

"Joel!" you cried, tugging at the front of his shirt. "Plea-please! Need your cock!"

He choked you with his unoccupied hand, forcing your face inches from his. "Quit whinin' or I'll leave you 'ere," he threatened.

You looked up at him through hooded eyes, unable to comprehend your increasing lust for him from being this close. Joel's breath was hot on your face, breathing his air, you became dizzy from a mix of him and your impending orgasm.

"That's right, sweetheart, cream all o'er my fingers," he beckoned, feeling your contracting walls squeeze his fingers. Your legs were trembling, wanton moans spilling from your lips as Joel pulled an orgasm from you.

You incoherently begged him to fill you up, wanting nothing more than to milk his thick cock, but when he caught sight of your pleading eyes, he applied pressure to your clit instead. It was sore from the heel of his palm having slapped it repeatedly and it made you unable to come down from your high properly.

Your legs spasmed as his torturous fingers brutally skirted across your bundle of nerves. Before you could process what happened, a gush of pleasure sprayed from you.

Your cheeks flushed pink, realizing Joel had just made you squirt. You had never done that before, and you looked at him with an expression of surprise mixed with confusion. He looked proud.

Joel groaned as he stroked his throbbed cock, smearing the precum over the head while his other hand pushed down hard on your belly, holding you just at the edge of the table.

Stammering his name, your attempt at any sort of coherent sentence was foiled as he slid his girthy cock into your cunt.

Your eyes fluttered shut, walls clenching around him. You had never felt so full. "Joel—" you shuddered, gripping his bicep for purchase.

A string of curses left his lips, a crease knitting his brows together in concentration. "Fuckin' hell, sweetheart, s'a tight lil' hole ya got 'ere."

Joel wanted to take a moment just then, revel in the sweet clench of your pussy, catch his breath but he knew you would notice. As much as he had a hidden desire to ruin every other man for you and have you tail him like a lost puppy, he refused to acknowledge how overdue this was.

He didn't give you another second to adjust before he rocked his hips back and slammed his cock back into you. If you thought his fingers hit a spot, his cock fucking destroyed that.

You couldn't even form moans properly as his hips rutted at a bruising pace, expertly molding your cunt to fit him. His face contorted and he grumbled something under his breath, but you didn't care to ponder what as he filled you up. You were still dazed from the previous orgasms and it was like he wouldn't allow you to come down. Your ragged breaths, his grunts, and the wanton sounds of skin slapping filled your head as you soared around on cloud nine.

A large hand snuck under your shirt, the calluses on his palm rough against your skin but you loved the feeling as he squeezed your breast, thumb and index pinching your nipple.

Your knuckles turned pale from clutching down hard on his shoulders, fingernails clawing indents at the exposed skin on his neck and collar.

You hoped the crescents would outlast this moment, that Joel would curse at the sight the next time he looked in a mirror. You hoped he wouldn't be able to get this moment out of his head then, not ever, thinking back to this moment whenever he would see the scars you left on him.

A hiss escaped you and tore the thought of making your mark out of your mind. His deft fingers were rubbing your sore clit once again.

There was determination on his face and animalistic hunger in his dark eyes—he looked as if there was no getting through to him, like he was stuck in a world of his own.

Whether he insisted on drawing orgasm after orgasm out of you for your pleasure or his ego, you did not know. Joel always had something to prove—to himself or the people around him, it was another thing about him you didn't know. In this moment, as he chased every high for you, you didn't care either.

You hated him for making you feel this good. Hated him for making you moan in pleasure, hated him for making your legs shake uncontrollably. You wanted to taunt him, crack a spiteful comment about his age or something, let him know he wasn't doing as well as he thought—but he was. You could lie, but your body would betray you.

There was no snide comment left in you as Joel's hips pistoned into yours. It felt too good. He felt too good.

"S'too much," you gasped and held onto his shoulder, not pushing him away but not pulling him any closer either. "I can't."

The pressure on your clit was too much. The frantic rubbing, the harsh pads of his fingers, mixing pleasure with pain in the most unforgiving way. It hurt too good to want to stop him, though.

Joel surprised you, pressing his forehead against yours. His eyes were heavy, and his jaw was slack, the blissful expression ruined by a smug chuckle.

"You can. C'mon, sweetheart, I believe in you," he tutted like one would to a child riding a bike for the first time.

It spurred something inside you, the degradation. Your hooded, watery eyes caught sight of his plump lip through the blur and without a second thought, you lunged forward and bit it, your teeth piercing the soft skin.

It was the closest thing you would get to feeling them, you knew it, and you weren't about to beg for a taste.

A slap landed on your cheek, sharp and stinging, but he kept his hand there on the side of your face, cupping it in an almost endearing way.

Joel hissed at the taste of blood—surprised but not disgusted. The hand cupping your face in the sweetest way turned to force your mouth open, and you grinned bitterly when he spat on your tongue, tasting his blood.

His thrusts became more frantic, the pad of his thumb sloppily skipping over your clit as he draws your pleasure out. Forcing you to look into his eyes while you come around his cock, Joel's too far gone watching you to notice the way his balls tightened.

"Fuck—"

Slick with your juices Joel slips out of your clenching pussy, jerking his cock a few pumps as he hisses, strings of milky sperm decorating your abdomen.

Your heavy breaths hang in the room like thick syrup, bodies sticky, tension at a maximum as the lust turns back to hatred.

Joel moves from you with a grunt, a sly smirk on his lip as he moves his gaze from the mess on your stomach to your eyes. He leaves you to clean yourself up and tucks his softening cock into his pants, the zipper resounding comically loud through the silence. It reminds you of a secret between children, zipping your lips close as a solemn pledge.

It was over and it would never be brought up again. As you did your best to clean up, get back into your clothes, and comb your fingers through your hair, your eyes were trained on Joel's back—if eyes could kill and all that.

At once, you were back to hating one another. You hoped your nails had dug deep enough into his shoulder, hard enough to leave scars.

#theplumsoldier #joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller tlou #joel miller imagine #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #the last of us #partner!joel miller

976 notes · View notes

thebirdsandthebats · 7 months

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Okay @s-p-r-i-n-g-t-i-m-e I’m sure you know plenty BUT I’m going to use your wonderful and hilarious comment on this as an excuse to talk about Bernard, bc I realized recently that there are plenty of ppl who haven’t read most of the comics he’s been in. So get ready for my long overdue:

UNPACKING BERNARD DOWD + HIS TRAUMA (for those who cannot keep up with comics but want to get to know him)

So to start, Tim met Bernard years ago ofc, when they were in high school. It’s established pretty quick that Bernard is an extremely Unserious guy LMAO, the first thing he does is literally circle Tim and try to feel him out socially, see what kind of guy he is. He’s the kind of guy who gets himself in trouble with his big mouth, and seems to enjoy poking at Tim and testing his patience. By the time we meet Bernard again in the recent years, he’s grown a lot, but at his core he’s still the light-hearted, fun, goofy guy with very strong opinions. Just less stand-offish, maybe

Throughout the time Tim spends at this school though, Bernard does experience some wild shit. He lost Darla (somebody he really cared about), he experienced a shooting at his school, and then Darla came back from the dead, kind of scared the hell out of him, and used him to contact Tim again. It was kind of played for laughs, but like. That’s gotta fuck you up. (Robin #140)

Obviously this is the kind of thing that maybeee has a lasting effect on you. And BECAUSE Tim Drake: Robin got cut so short and the writer had to rush to wrap up the series, we’re left to fill in a lot of gaps and draw conclusions about the years we didn’t see Bernard ourselves. But we absolutely get some insight as to his life after Tim left that school and we stopped seeing him in the comics. Spoiler alert: it was hard.

In TDR, Bernard discusses the the cult that he’d been in that Tim saved him from in Urban Legends. He says that “he’d accepted himself”, but others hadn’t. Obviously there’s the natural reading that he means his queerness (which has me chewing through drywall), but I think that he’s speaking very broadly too. Bernard is a very odd example of a civilian, because he’s always getting dragged into things much bigger than him. And even before that, he had his big ideas, his conspiracies, his loud personality. He tended to rub people the wrong way in high school. Then in issue #7 of TDR (the Bernard pov issue my most beloved, weird pacing aside) Bernard refers to this “oozy, sticky feeling” that he ALWAYS feels when Tim isn’t around. He says when he’s alone it’s harder to put one foot in front of the other. To keep GOING. To wake up every day.

I think that Bernard has always felt like an outcast. (Robin #121, he doesn’t fit into any clique). He wasn’t as okay with it as he acted. And I think he wasn’t getting any attention from his parents. (Batman: Urban Legends #5, Bernard’s parents nonchalance to the days leading up to his kidnapping)

So just like Bernard explained to Tim, that feeling got bad. and he wanted to let go. The chaos monsters, the cult, all of it was a means to an end. But then Tim agreed to see him again, and I think that sparked something in him. Because he started learning to fight. When he was tied down to that alter and Tim was saving him, I think it fully sank in to Bernard that he didn’t want to die. Reconnecting with Tim gave him hope and made him really feel something good for the first time in ages.

So now that they’re dating after the cult fiasco, we get to know this current Bernard. A less goading, maybe calmer Bernard. But he’s still himself, of course, rambling about his ideas and making bad jokes and sticking to his guns (he has NEVER been a pushover, no idea where people get that idea?). I think a lot of people complained that Bernard mellowed out too much in terms of attitude, but I think if he seems “nicer” it’s because 1) he’s grown now. It’s been a while since we last saw him, and he’s clearly changed a lot. And 2) because he’s dating Tim now. He likes him a lot, and he’s an affectionate partner. He wants to lift Tim up.

But the fact that he was pulled into a cult still remains. And as lighthearted as Bernard tries to be, that traumatic experience still happened. It said in Urban Legends #5 while Tim was searching for him that Bernard had welts on his arms and legs and had been acting different, so it’s not like he was just snatched up on a whim. He’d spent significant time there. For those who haven’t read much abt the ways cult trauma specifically can fuck you up, I recommend doing a search if you’re in a good headspace for that and want to understand him more. because it’s pretty bad.

And then! yeah. you guessed it. Bernard gets kidnapped again. Chained up next to a BOMB that’s counting down. RIGHT WHEN HE’S WORKING ON HEALING FROM ALMOST BEING SACRIFICED BY A CULT.

And surely this can’t get crazier. He’s almost died twice in the past 6 months. except, remember his parents? In TD:R #7, we really see a little more of his relationship with his parents. He doesn’t live up to their standards, and his dad specifically seems to just want to argue with him. The restaurant they’re at is attacked, and everything goes to shit, and. you know, I think these panels really speak for themselves.

And for the record, when it’s revealed that everyone is seeing their worst fears, Bernard’s parents fears are not about him.

So now Bernard has to deal with that. And we start to see that Bernard is really not as okay as he’s tried to be. He keeps a baseball bat by his door because he’s been kidnapped twice now. And just when he’d likely thought things couldn’t get worse, he heard the Chaos Monsters were back. I can’t imagine he feels safe. He lashes out for the first time since all this has happened and yells at Kate and Tim, because while they’re doing what they feel is necessary to save more people (AND I DONT BLAME THEM AT ALL), Bernard can’t talk about it.

And I will forever be sad and insist that TD:R got cancelled too soon, just before we could get into the really juicy stuff, because things had to be wrapped up pretty quick and this was the only comic Bernard was consistently appearing in. But when Tim is giving himself up to the chaos monsters, Bernard goes out and rallies anyone he knows can help. Things were rushed because there was no more time to flesh out the story the way it could have been, but I’m including these panels just because I love Bernard Audacity Dowd using a fucking flashlight and shadow puppet to call Batman. geeking out for a minute. And then leading the battalion to save Tim with a SLEDGEHAMMER. gay people rule.

So yeah! While I see the vision of how a lot of Bernard’s trauma was meant to be semi-resolved and let him come to peace after saving Tim back, we just didn’t have the time for him to heal properly. I’d give anything to get inside his brain again. UHH IF YOU READ THIS I HOPE YOU LOVE BERNARD NOW and don’t come at me if I left something out, some of my comics aren’t with me rn. Bonus TimBer for the road:

#WHEW IT TOOK A WHILE TO ORGANIZE THESE PANELS #Hes NOT BORING he is SO FASCINATING TO ME #i think his character is just not being utilized the way it could be #I didnt source every panel so just ask if you want to know where something is from!#bernard dowd #batfamily #dc comics #tim drake #timber #timbern

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leviathxn · 2 months

Note

Hi! I have a request! If you would like to do it...😊

Uhm, so what if y/n and Miguel are married for years and have kids but the Spider society doesn't know. And the shock on the Spider crew faces when they find out about Miguel's sweet side.

YESS I ABSOLUTELY LOVE THESE

(N/N) is nickname or whatever spider name you want to go by

—————————————————————————

“Who are you?”

—————————————————————————

By no means were you a strong spider. In your universe, you were the first test subject. You got minor powers of a spider. They weren’t very prevalent so the lab tried another experiment, and that person became the true Spider-Man of the universe. You guys were close friends you ended up becoming their sidekick. People assumed there was a relationship, but actually your heart belong to someone else. That somebody was Miguel O’ Hara.

You met Miguel when your partner had ran into the portal and you followed shortly after. Love at first sight might be a reach. You were definitely in love, Miguel was too… he just had to open up to it. He did. It took him a long time but he did.

However, just like him, nobody had any idea. They figured it was on sided, nothing special. So it stayed a secret between you and Miguel. In the span of 5 years, you and Miguel had gotten married, moved in together, had a kid and had another on the way. You never did much at Headquarters so you stayed home taking care of the kid while also staying healthy for your 2nd baby. You were sure nobody knew you existed in the new society, anybody that you had originally met never said much. Since nobody knew your relationship to Miguel, you were seen as a once in a while friend to chat with.

However one day you decided to take your 2 year old and plumped up self to see Miguel and meet new spiders. Not only that but Miguel left your home-made empanadas in the fridge. Your child knew he was spider-man, well as much as a two year old could comprehend. As you walked through the portal it felt like you were looking at an entire new place. You hadn’t been in the Headquarters since the renovation, but luckily you remember seeing the layout blueprints on Miguel’s desk. You got stares, and every now and then a spider would come up to you and “catch-up”. They would ask why you were there, you would say “I’m here to see my husband”, and surprisingly they wouldn’t think much of it. You figured most would assume it was your former partner (Miguel was deathly jealous of him). They said hello to your 2 year old and then would leave you on your mission.

Finally making your way to his office, you picked up your child and gently opened the door. He was standing by his computer screens while a small group of spiders seemed to be… harassing him.

“I think our mission went fine! It wasn’t even a big mistake, nobody died. You can just say your hate me and move on, don’t ban me from the cafeteria”. A teen with bleeding armpits(?) shouted at him. Another blonde spider laughed and smacked his arm

“Miguel wouldn’t get rid of you, he’s running out of reliable people”. You could hear Miguel’s grumbling from a mile away. A British man threw up a random gadget before catching it again (definitely not a toy).

“Well maybe if he wasn’t so mean”. Miguel snatched the gadget out of his hand before an old friend of yours caught eye. Peter B. Parker, with MayDay, ran over to you.

“Oh my God it’s (n/n)! With a kid- two kids? Oh my god this is amazing, long time no see!” He gave you a big hug, playing little hand games with your child. You said hello to Mayday and put down your kid. They two of them already started running off (you were worried about Maydays powers but the place is full of spiders, what could go wrong?). In typical Peter fashion, he runs after the kids and plays with them. The rest of the teens stared, none of them knew who you were. Miguel stared at you across the room, his face softening.

As you walked over to him, you packed his cheek and handed him the empanadas. He gently grabbed your waist and smiled, before taking the empanadas and putting them on the table. You hear Peter gasp as he watches the scene from across the office.

“You should be resting cariño”. You smiled and but a hand over your belly.

“It’s fine bubs, it’s a spider baby, they’ll come out just fine”. He kisses your forehead and holds your hand over your belly.

It was eerily quiet in the room, you had almost forgot that the spiders were there. As you turned your head to look at them, it was pure shock from all, even Mayday was looking at you guys (although she didn’t really understand why).

“It’s nice to meet you guys! You must be the crew I hear all about.” Peter almost fell off the ceiling, luckily catching himself and the kids (when did your kid get up there).

The teens immediately ran up to you as if you were an anomaly, “Who are you and how did you do that!”

—————————————————————————

OKAY THIS WAS SUPER FUN TO BUILD UP TOO

I love doing like backgrounds and then boom the moment, especially for shorts like this. Let me know if you guys liked it, and thank you for the request!

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hyuckiefluff · 8 months

Note

hihi! can i request corruption kink with jeno or hyuck?? if thats okay!

a/n: thank u for requesting!! i decided to do jeno bc i haven’t written anything for him yet oh and somebody else requested that i do something similar to my jaemin request with jeno so two birds one stone i guess? anyways enjoy!!!!! psa i got way more requests than i expected so thank u to everyone who sent im gonna try to get thru all of them as quickly as possible (if college doesn’t k!ll me first)

btw thank u for 400 followers! love u all

pairing: jeno x tutor!reader

wc: 2k

content: smut

warnings: cursing, fingering, masturbation, edging (kind of) , mentions of food (ice cream), big dick jeno ofc, backshots yuh!!!, rough sex, jeno is kinda too much in this lol, marking, cum eating, taking risky pics without consent, no after care, usage of pet names like pretty and baby *whispers* and whore. lmk if i missed any

masterlist

Jeno had always liked experienced girls. The kind he didn't have to treat with gloves, who were game for him to fuck so hard that they'd feel it afterward. At least, that's what he thought he was into.

Then you walked into the picture as his little brother's tutor. You were always polite and proper, wearing those buttoned up shirts and pencil skirts that gave off a more mature vibe than your actual age. He knew you recently graduated college, which he liked because you were older than him. But the thing is, you were incredibly innocent and naive. I mean, you didn't even catch on when his brother cracked those not-so-subtle, inappropriate jokes about you.

Jeno wouldn't usually spare a second thought for someone like you. After all, you couldn't even hold his gaze for more than a couple of seconds. So, why on earth was he now holed up in the bathroom, pumping himself to the thoughts of your ass in that skirt? Maybe it was because of how clueless you were, bending over the table to help his brother with his work, offering Jeno a perfect view of your perked ass. He tried to resist, truly he did, but it was hard, especially when your shirt hiked up, exposing the curve of your back.

Jeno had to make a quick exit from the living room, and now… Here he was, working up a sweat in the cramped bathroom trying to imagine your hand, or even your mouth, around his dick instead of his own. Imagining how he'd finish all over your face, leaving you in a state of shock and fluster, those big, innocent eyes looking up at him.

"Shit..." he whimpered shakily, the release of his pent-up load leaving him trembling as the white liquid ended up dripping messily all over the bathroom's curtain. This was getting ridiculous… he needed to fuck someone now.

A sudden knock at the door made him jump, his dick still exposed, flopping around as he hurried to check that the door was securely bolted. He quickly adjusted his pants, grabbed some toilet paper, and tried to clean up the mess as much as possible.

What he didn't expect was to find you standing there when he opened the door, holding a popsicle.

He vaguely remembered you saying something about getting ice cream for everyone because it was so hot. That was right before he had bolted upstairs to deal with his urgent situation.

The popsicle was melting, its crimson contents dripping down your hand and arm. Jeno couldn't help but feel like the universe was testing him, and he swore he felt his dick come alive again.

"Oh, sorry... Uhm... I kind of made a mess," you laughed airily but averted your gaze when the eye contact got a bit too intense "Your brother mentioned you guys had wet wipes in here."

"Uh, yeah, down there" Jeno finally responded after a few moments of silently staring at you. You bent down to check under the sink where he directed you, giving him another tempting view of your ass. You missed the quiet grunt he let out while discreetly adjusting the growing situation in his pants.

You straightened up after finding the wet wipes, looking somewhat torn between putting the popsicle down to clean yourself or eating it quickly. Jeno sensed your struggle and casually reached his arm from behind you to take the popsicle from your hand, allowing you to clean up properly.

"Oh, thanks," you said, using the wet wipes to clean your arms and the stained area on your shirt.

Jeno silently watched you in the mirror, his attention focused on the way the white shirt clung to your skin as you diligently worked to remove the stain. When you finally looked up, you found him eating the popsicle—the very one you had been licking just moments ago. Locking eyes with you, he noticed your bewildered expression and gave you a lopsided smile "It was melting."

"Oh..." you said quietly, the heat rushing to your ears revealing your flustered state.

You tried to return to your task, but he stopped you by suddenly grabbing your wrist. His own hand was now sticky from the melting popsicle. He pulled you closer to him and reached his hand to your face, using his thumb to rub against the corner of your lip "You got ice cream here too," but instead of withdrawing his hand after, he surprised you by slipping his thumb into your mouth.

You would have pulled back if you weren’t completely taken aback by what was going on.

With his finger still in your mouth, he playfully pressed the popsicle against your collarbone. The cold sensation sent a shiver down your spine, and your tongue brushed against his finger instinctively. The sight of your mouth enveloping his digit drove his self-control right out the window. He carelessly dropped the popsicle in the sink and leaned in closer, crowding your personal space with his larger frame. His cold hands sneaked under your shirt, and with a quick move, he unhooked your bra straps from your shoulders, exposing more skin for him to explore.

"Jeno... I don't think this is ri-..right,"

"Why not?" he asked, his face burying in your neck, coaxing soft whimpers from your lips.

"Your... brother... he—"

"He's probably busy googling the answers to his exercises, believe me, he doesn't need you back just yet” He assured, pulling you even closer against his hips, causing your skirt to ride up and reveal your panties.

“I knew you were a whore,” he tutted, realizing you were wearing black lace “You wear lingerie to tutor students?" he chuckled dryly, biting a smile as you attempted to cover yourself.

"I’m n–," you whispered, but your words were cut short as his teeth grazed against your skin, leaving marks and savoring the fruity taste left by the popsicle. He didn't bother with the buttons of your shirt, causing a few of them to pop open from the stretch.

Your bra had slipped down too, partially exposing your breasts.

“You like being used like this, don’t you?" he teased, leaning back to take in the sight of your disheveled appearance. Your bruised neck from the sucking and biting, the strands of hair that clung to your flushed face, and your lace panties on display.

He reached for his phone inside his pocket and snapped a quick picture of you in that state. Your expression instantly shifted to one of panic.

"What… are you doing?" You tried to slide off the sink, but he pressed back against you, his hips pinning you in place.

"Don't worry, this is just for me to enjoy later."

Then he kissed you, shushing any protests you had. His hand crept undetected inside your skirt and under your panties, his index finger gingerly spreading your folds. The action made you gasp against his tongue and then, without warning, he inserted a finger. The intrusion made you try to press your thighs together but he was standing between them so it was impossible. Every time he pumped his finger inside, his hips rutted against you, and you could feel the tent forming in his sweatpants brushing against your clothed core.

“…‘m gonna fuck you like no one ever has before,” He groaned against your lips.

He intentionally slowed down to a pace that almost seemed teasing as the knot in your stomach became almost unbearable. But given how shameful this situation already was, you didn’t want to ask for more.

"Are you that desperate for cock, hmm baby?" Jeno asked as you instinctively tugged on the waistband of his sweatpants to bring him closer and relieve the friction.

His finger pumped a few more times before he completely withdrew it. The emptiness immediately made you whimper.

"I'll give you what you want then," he replied as he reached into his sweatpants and casually pulled out his dick. You didn't want to stare like a pervert but... wow. You felt your legs quiver just from its sheer size. There was no way in hell you could take that.

You found it difficult to imagine how anything that big could fit comfortably inside of you.

The smug smirk on his face told you that he liked your reaction "Clearly never seen one so big,"

"Jeno, I can't… we shouldn’t"

"But what kind of gentleman leaves a lady who is obviously in need?" He said cynically as he pulled down your panties.

No more words were necessary, the tension that had been building reached its peak as he aligned himself with your entrance. Jeno tried not to show any vulnerability, but the way your walls tightened around him, even though he was barely inside, was driving him crazy.

As he gradually entered you, soft, breathless gasps escaped your swollen lips. Your hands clung to the sink, keeping you from losing your balance. He stretched you so intensely that it made your eyes roll to the back of your head. You knew it defied anatomical possibility but as he bottomed out, you had a feel that if you touched your lower belly, you might just be able to feel him there.

“'m gonna move," he said through gritted teeth, more like a statement than a question. And with that, he started to thrust, not giving you much time to get used to the feeling of being so incredibly full.

As his hips met yours in a rough rhythm, he mumbled praises while also calling you things you'd never tolerate from anyone else.

"You feel so tight... for me," he groaned, his hand reaching for your face so you would look up at him.

“Eyes up here, doll,” he said in a breathless tone, the pace so fast and rough that it left no room for coherent thoughts. The knot in your stomach twisted, sending waves of almost painful pleasure through you. Your entire body buzzing with his desperate movements.

“J-..J-..Jeno…” His name was the only word that escaped your lips, each thrust causing your voice to quiver.

Suddenly, he lifted you by your ass and turned you around to face the misty mirror. Both your reflections appeared hazy in the condensation-covered glass so he messily wiped it with one hand and then resumed his thrusting. Now, you could see the way your expression changed each time he hit that spot deep inside you.

He continued fucking into you relentlessly, whispering how you would remember the outline of his cock by the time he was finished. His saliva-slicked lips left wet trails on the skin beneath your ear. From this close proximity, you could even hear the soft moans he struggled to suppress.

Suddenly, a thought flashed through your mind, and with a hoarse voice, you pleaded, "Jeno... don't cum inside."

He hummed against your hair but continued ramming into you, and for a moment, you thought he hadn't heard you. However, just as your orgasm swept over you, he pulled out. You sighed in relief and rested your forehead against the steamy mirror, seeking a few moments of calm.

But Jeno had other plans and wiithout giving you a moment to catch your breath, he turned you around and had you on your knees. You looked up at him confused until he aligned his cock with your mouth.

"Open wide," he said, and with no energy left to complain, you did as told.

You expected him to shove his dick into your mouth, but instead, he stroked it a few more times before releasing his load all over your face. Most of it landed in your mouth, but some also splashed onto your cheeks and chin.

"Swallow," he said with a commanding tone, a stark contrast to the way he gently stroked your face.

You complied, taking in as much as you could. You even used a finger to collect the excess and popped it into your mouth. Savoring it much like you did when you licked the ice cream off his finger. Jeno bit his lip, trying to contain himself before he fucked you thrice more against the wall.

“Go ahead and clean yourself, pretty. You got a lesson to finish," he said, adjusting his sweatpants. And with one last chaste kiss on your lips, he left the bathroom.

#nct #nct x reader #nct dream #nct dream x reader #nct smut #nct dream fic #nct dream imagines #nct imagines #nct dream scenario #nct dream smut #jeno smut #jeno #jeno scenarios #jeno imagines #jeno x reader #nct jeno #hyuckiereqs

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not-magdi · 3 months

Text

"Be my Valentine?"

Warnings: none :)

Summary: Lando surprises you on Valentine's Day.

Word Count: 1k

Reading Time: 4min 12sec

A/N

I am so sorry for not updating again, but life has been really stressful lately. I sadly can't promise you that it is going to be better a school is about to start again but I'll try.

Love y'all Magdi <3

February 13th, tomorrow is Valentine's Day, and you just ended a call with Lando, who was currently in Barcelona testing the new car. When he first told you he would be away for the 14th, disappointment and sadness were the only emotions you felt.

Valentine's has been your favourite holiday since you were a little girl. It didn't matter if you had somebody or not. The pink hearts everywhere, the smell of roses in the air, and people all around being in love made it so special for you.

And for two years, you got to spend Valentine's with the love of your life, Lando Norris. Although every day was special with Lando, he always made extra efforts for the 14th, such as preparing breakfast in bed, presenting flowers in a rainbow of colours, and gifting sparkling jewellery.

So, him not being here home with you this year crushed your spirits for tomorrow completely. Lando felt incredibly bad when he found out when the tests were, but nothing prepared him for how the spark in your eyes disappeared when he told you.

Guilt was eating him up the entire trip to Barcelona. Even Oscar noticed and asked what was up.

------

After you hung up with Lando, you decided to cuddle yourself up on your couch and do some self-care while watching some nineties rom-com.

You knew it wasn't Lando's fault he didn't have a say in when the testing was going to be, but you were still really disappointed he couldn't be with you.

------

Your stiff back and sore neck were the result of you falling asleep on the couch yesterday. The TV was still running when you decided to get up and make yourself breakfast.

The second you unlock your phone, you are bombarded with posts of couples enjoying Valentine's Day together.

Letting out an annoyed huff, you throw your phone on the couch and decide to take a shower, wanting to escape all that valentines crap for a bit.

Afterwards, you felt way more refreshed and optimistic for the day. So you decided to throw on some of your favourite jeans and your most flattering top and head outside to the centre of Monaco.

------

You spend your whole day wandering through Monaco, strolling through a few shops and taking a few breaks in some cafes. And even though you were still a bit mad at Lando, an addition to Lando's Valentine's present made its way into your bag.

Your mood improved gradually throughout the day, but not hearing anything from Lando made it hard to stay positive. You texted him, "goodmorning ❤️" to show him you were not ignoring or mad at him.

He reacted to your message, but it has been complete silence since then. You thought that maybe he was too busy, as he told you that today would be the media day, but not hearing anything from him hurt you were not going to lie.

------

And you were indeed correct in your assumption. Lando was incredibly busy today but not giving interviews and making content. No, he tried to convince Zak to let him fly home earlier today so he could spend some more time with you.

"Oh, come on. Please Zak, I'm done with all my stuff, for what do you even need me here?" Lando begged his boss, quite desperate to let him fly home.

Zak looked at him with a slightly tired expression. "Do you really have to fly home. I mean it's just Valentine's day."

Lando tried to put on his best puppy dog eyes. "It's really important for Y/N. I can't do that to her."

That seemed to do the trick, as Lando is currently on a plane home to Monaco. He spent the whole flight on his phone, trying to make the time go by faster. A smile made its way onto his face when he saw you posted a photo of you sitting in one of your favourite cafes, enjoying the sun.

He felt so incredibly guilty after your call yesterday, already forming a plan for how he can make it up to you.

------

The second he touched the ground again, he immediately rushed to your favourite florist to get you the biggest bouquet of sunflowers he could find.

The friendly old lady who runs the shop smiles as she sees Lando entering. You also visited her today, telling her your dilemma while buying a bouquet of pink tulips.

So seeing Lando buying your favourite flowers made her happy for you, knowing you weren't spending the day alone anymore.

------

You just came home from your trip, putting the flowers you bought in a vase and starting to make yourself some dinner.

You were about to start eating when you heard the doorbell ring. Confused, you make your way to the front door. Looking through your peephole, you rip the door open in excitement.

You couldn't believe your eyes when you saw your boyfriend standing before you. Well, you could barely see him between all those sunflowers. But what you could see. Was his adorable smile while he held a pink sign saying, "Be my valentine?"

Rushing over to him, you tackled him in the biggest teddybear-hug, burying your face in his neck.

"Hi baby." Kissing your head, Lando wraps one arm around you, squeezing you tight.

"How-when, why are you here?"

Chuckling slightly at your confusion, Lando answers, "Well I couldn't leave my girl alone on Valentine's now, can I? Besides, Zak couldn't withstand my puppy-dog-eyes."

Laughing, you tilt your head, giving Lando a loving kiss while murmuring a sincere "I love you" against his lips.

"Mhm, I love you too, baby."

------

After standing in your hallway like two teenagers, you ushered Lando inside, not letting go of his hand, wanting to have him near you all the time.

You were now cuddling on the couch, your wrist decorated with a new bracelet, a sparkling "L" adorning its front.

Lando broke the comfortable silence you two were basking in, "You didn't answer my question from earlier."

You look up at him, confused. "What do you mean?"

Wrapping his arms tighter around you, he says, "Will you be my Valentine?"

Laughing, you take his face to kiss him, "Yes, Lando, I'd love to be your Valentine."

------

Don't forget to leave a note if you enjoyed it, feedback is always welcome !!❤️

#lando norris x y/n #lando norris oneshot #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris #formula 1 #mclaren #f1 x reader

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moonlightspencie · 4 months

Note

i would adore if you wrote a one shot about james potter being like absolutely obsessed with his gf and always doing cute things for her and looking after her

okay this is just a widdle drabble with our baby boy, but he is so soft in this. also: reader doesn’t have pronouns in this :)

pairing: james potter x gn!reader

warnings: fluffy fluff with one little suggestive reference

—————

You were sitting in the library studying with Remus after a long day of classes. You didn’t necessarily want to do more work, but you needed to be prepared for your next test. Besides, the subject wasn’t horrible and Remus made a great study partner. It was going well, too, until Remus snorted a laugh, looking over your shoulder.

“Incoming,” Remus said, smiling down at his book.

“Hi, darling,” James said quietly in your ear, his arms wrapping around your shoulders.

You laugh lightly, leaning your head back against him as he kissed your cheek a few times in a row. You made eye contact with Remus as he raised a brow at you and James, still finding it funny how overly-affectionate James was with you, even after more than a year of dating. You sighed softly.

“Hi, Jamie. What are you up to?”

You felt him shrug behind you. “Just wanted to say hello to my love. Moony told me you had a study date today, and I just came to interrupt so you didn’t bore yourself to death.”

“You know, I actually don’t mind advanced arithmancy,” you point out.

“Boooring,” he sang out, kissing your cheek again.

“Prongs, I’m gonna get sick if I have to watch you keep kissing,” Remus laughed, looking up from his book.

“You’re just jealous I have somebody to love and cuddle.”

“Right,” Remus snorted, not paying James any mind.

“I brought you something,” James whispered in your ear.

“Yeah?” you respond, interested.

“Mhm. Close your eyes.”

You follow his command, feeling him tear himself away from you long enough to pull a chair up to your side, his leg brushing yours as he sat next to you. You felt him grab your hand, pulling it towards him and dropping a little something in it.

“Can I open now?”

“Yeah,” he said, and you could hear the smile in his voice before you heard it.

You opened your eyes, smiling when you saw a new quill and a chocolate frog. You looked up at him questioningly, and he smiled back at you, looking utterly love struck.

“Thought you could use the chocolate as fuel to keep your spirits up, and the quill to make sure you were comfortable writing for so long.”

“Aww. Thank you, angel,” you cooed softly, leaning forward to kiss his lips.

He smiled into the kiss, proud to have made you happy. You only broke apart once Remus sighed loudly. You looked at him with a small smile still on your lips.

“Come on, Moony. It’s not so bad.”

“It is when I’ve been watching it for a year straight.”

“Year and three months,” James corrected him quickly.

Remus didn’t look amused at his friend. He rolled his eyes, though he smiled a little despite himself.

“Alright, wrap it up,” Remus said, wanting to get back to studying.

“I always do,” James retorted quickly.

You smacked his chest lightly, laughing. Remus scoffed a laugh, making a bit of a sour face at that unwanted mental image.

“Don’t be gross,” you chided your boyfriend.

He merely shrugged, kissing your cheek again before he stood up.

“I’ll see you at dinner, my love,” he said to you with another little grin. “I’ll miss you.”

“I know you will,” you smiled back.

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter x gn!reader #james potter fluff #james potter drabble #marauders #marauders fluff #luna still hates jk #gender neutral reader

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vivwritesfics · 5 months

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No Need To Ask

Chapter Eleven - Going Home

The Norris' were a notorious crime family in the UK. One of many. With Norris, the head of the family, running operations with his son, Lando, they work to keep Y/N Norris, Norris' daughter protected. Life in a crime family wasn't something they wanted for her.

But with tension with one of the Spanish crime families rise, Norris and his now deceased wife come up with only one plan, offer their daughter to the Sainz's or risk an all out war.

Warnings: Smut! Cheating!

1.7K words

Series Masterlist

Where the fuck was Oscar?

It took four days before Y/N was stomping through Carlos' house, heading towards his office.

It was only recognisable by how heavily it was usually guarded. Not today though.

Pushing up her sleeves, Y/N mustered all of the courage she had and pushed her way into Carlos' office.

"Okay, where the f"

But she stopped in her tracks when she looked at her husband.

The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room. Against the desk was a woman, one Y/N recognised to be a member of the kitchen staff. Carlos' eyes snapped towards the door when Y/N walked in. He continued to thrust, his pace bruising as he stared at his wife.

The woman hadn't noticed Y/N as she laid flat on the desk, breasts bouncing with his thrusts.

"Can I help you, Querida?" Carlos asked, his pace never faltering.

The woman let out a particularly loud moan and threw her head back. She must have felt somebody else in the room, because she opened her eyes, seeing Y/N standing there.

"Mi señora! ¡Dios mío, señora mía!" The woman cried as she shuffled back on the desk, pushing Carlos away as she did so.

The woman gathered up her clothes and ran out of the office. Carlos simply pulled up his trousers and buckled his belt, sitting in his desk chair. "Can I help you?" He tried again.

But Y/N was still just standing there, her mouth open in shock. She knew it wasn't a marriage of love, but she never expected this.

When she said nothing, Carlos went back to his paperwork. Like he cared for nothing, he scribbled his signature across papers and dismissed her from the room.

Y/N obeyed. With her fists clenched at her side, she marched out of the office and down the hall, down to her room. Surely this had to be grounds for divorce. Surely this meant she could go home. Surely… Surely…

No. This happened in every Mafia marriage. Unless it was born out of love, the wives were nothing more than ornaments, decorations to make the mafia leaders look better. Carlos cheating on her would only mean something if he really loved her. But he didn’t. Their marriage meant nothing, and she meant nothing.

There wasn’t much that could make things worse for her. She was stuck a house that didn’t feel like her own, surrounded by people that could easily kill her, with a husband that didn’t love her.

But, as life always did, it made things worse. So much fucking worse.

After three hours stewing alone in her room, there was a knock at the door.

“Go away!” Y/N shouted as she turned away from the door. “I don’t want to see you!”

But it wasn’t Carlos that threw open her bedroom door. Señora Sainz, as Y/N was supposed to call her, opened the door. “I have some news for you, Y/N,” she said, letting herself into the room.

“So, what, you’re not going to test me on my Spanish now?” Y/N spat as she looked towards the window.

Señora Sainz shook her head. “It��s about your father.”

Y/N turned towards her. Her tone wasn’t filling Y/N with a lot of confidence. She looked towards her mother in law, her breath hitching. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said and strode forward to wrap her arms around Y/N. “Pack your things, you and Carlos are going home tonight.”

“No,” Y/N said instantly. “I’ll go alone. Carlos doesn’t need this distraction.”

But Carlos had to go. All of the Mafia bosses either had to go or send somebody in their place. Sainz was sending Carlos, since Y/N had to go already.

Silently, she packed her things. There really was no getting away from Carlos.

Before midnight Y/N and Carlos were on the private jet, heading to the UK. They didn’t sit near each other, at least not at first. She made a point of sitting as far away from Carlos as she could. But then, as they got closer and closer to England, Y/N stood.

She stretched her limbs and walked across the plane taking a seat beside Carlos. “This is my fathers funeral,” she said and Carlos looked up at her. “And I don’t want to see you. We’ll have to sit beside each other at the ceremony, but, other than that, I want you to stay away from me.”

Carlos chucked and shook his head. “Querida, you must have realised if I wasn’t fucking you, I’d have to be fucking something else,” he said and crossed one leg over the other.

She ignored it, pushing on. “And, you’re going to tell me what happened to Oscar. I know he’s not in Spain anymore, so you’re going to tell me where he is.”

Again, Carlos shook his head. He stood suddenly, his hands on the arms of Y/N’s seats as he leaned over her. “You’re forgetting who’s in charge here, Señora Sainz,” he growled with a wicked grin.

They didn’t break eye contact. Y/N’s chest was heaving, but she wasn’t going to back down. Not in this rare moment of bravery. “I’d divorce you if I could,” she spat.

Carlos laughed again. He sat back in his seat and let out a laugh. “You know, querida, you are funny. Have you ever heard of a divorce in our world? No? Because they don’t happen. The only way you’re going to leave me is if you’re dead.”

When they touched down in England, it was cold and miserable. But it was always cold and miserable.

Y/N couldn't look at Carlos as they drove back to the house she had grown up in. She kept her focus on the radio. Carlos didn’t try and make conversation, and Y/N was grateful. She couldn’t talk to him at that moment.

When they pulled up at the Norris house, Y/N quickly jumped out of the car. She ran up the steps and through the front door, two men grabbing her arms as soon as she ran through them. But, as soon as she realised who she was, they let go of her.

Leaving Carlos behind, Y/N marched her way through the house. If Lando was going to be anywhere he was going to be in his fathers – no, his office. It was his office now, just as he was head of the family.

He wasn’t Lando anymore. He was Norris.

The office wasn’t guarded like Carlos’s was. Lando didn’t need it. Y/N knocked gently and pushed her way into the office.

As soon as Lando saw his sister, he was on his feet, walking over to her to wrap her in her embrace. No longer was Lando this ruthless guy, not compared to Carlos. Lando squeezed his arms around his sister. “I’m so happy you’re here,” Lando whispered as he kissed the top of her head. “How is married life treating you?”

“Lan, please,” Y/N mumbled, cheek pressed against his jacket. “Dad is dead and the man I’m married to is the last thing I want to talk about,” she answered.

Lando nodded his head. “I’ve had a separate room set up for him,” he said and Y/N thanked him. “Do you know how long you’re staying for?”

“No,” she answered as he sat back behind his desk. Y/N sat in one of the chairs opposite him, not missing the way that Lando tucked his paperwork back into its folder.

“Well, the heads of family are having a meeting at the end of the week, so you and Carlos will have to stay for that,” Lando said, nails drumming against the wood of his desk.

Her arms were crossed over her chest as she looked towards the window behind him. “I don’t want to go back,” she whispered. “Oscar isn’t even there anymore, and I don’t know what to do without him.”

Lando sucked in a breath. “Oscar is… back in Australia. With Mark.”

“What?!” Y/N jumped up out of her seat. “What do you mean Oscar is in Australia? Why is he in Australia?”

“It’s what’s best for his safety.”

“Did he decide this? Or did you decide this?” She asked, hands on the desk as she leaned towards her brother. “Or, better yet, did Carlos decide this?”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s happened, and there’s nothing any of us can do about it.”

***

No, Oscar did not decide to go back to Australia. After he’d had the shit beaten out of him by Carlos’s men, he went back to Australia, back to Mark.

He could have gone back to England, could have gone back to the Norris family, but what would Lando do? He was the one who had given his sister away. But Mark, Mark was the most powerful man in Australia. Mark could do something about it.

Oscar hadn’t grown up in a crime family. He’d grown up relatively normally, but when he’d gotten into some trouble as a kid, Mark gave him his only option. To join the Webber family, to train up through the ranks, and then to go off to England to work in a different family. He was meant to be a mole, but the Norris family had nothing to hide, nothing they were keeping from Webber.

But Oscar was assigned to Y/N, to looking out for her, watching over her. When She went off to Spain he went with her, protecting her, watching over her.

Oscar knew how he felt before they went to Spain. He knew how he felt and he could do anything about it. And then he met Carlos. Carlos was terrifying, but Oscar wasn’t scared. He’d dealt with worse than Carlos.

But now he was back in Australia, sat in front of Mark as he went over the blueprints of Carlos’s house. He’d only spent two weeks there, but he’d learnt everything he needed to know. The entrances and exits, where all of the men were stationed and everybody’s schedules.

If anybody could fuck up the Sainz family, it was Oscar.

And that was exactly what he was going to do.

Taglist (open): @multi-universe21 @formulas-bitch @gills-lounge @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @carlossainzwho @f1lov3r @samaib11 @charli123456789 @queenofmanydreams @ironmaiden1313 @vellicora @glitterf1 @80sloverry @lightdragonrayne @moonayu @bellsalabanccini @topguncultleader @handsupforamiracle @cmleitora @ashy-kit @jenniferrvsesi @barcelonaloverf1life @sbella13 @nicolettecallednikki @darleneslane @thehufflepuffavenger1 @champagneproblems17 @aespie @yukheizcigarettes @rewmuslupin @hollie911

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leah-lover · 1 month

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First time. Alessia russo x reader.

Smut 18+

Alessia's first time.

You loved England camp. You didn’t get to see a lot of your friends because you played abroad. So you get to make up for lost time. Since the beginning of your career Alessia lotte you have climbed every ladder together. Then at the beginning of your international career you added Ella to the mix. The 4 of you were inseparable.

You spent a few years at Man United and your relationship with Ella and Alessia got even stronger. You seem to understand each other just by eye contact.

After a few years at United you got picked to go to france. This move affected your relationship greatly because you didn't have timùe to hang out, or talk at all. This drives a little wedge in your relationship.

The only time you guys hung out was in camp.

This time was no different, after training and the team dinner, you lotte, ella and alessia went to your and alessia’s roomù to hang out.

The conversation flew by as you caught up with their lives.

“ So are you seeing anyone?” asked lotte who was sitting next to me in bed, ella and alessia were in the opposite bed.

“ define seeing.” you replied.

“ dating.” she clarified.

“ Well that's not it, but I have been with people, yes.” you answer with all honesty. “ What about you lessi.” you ask.

“ You see less face blush and she turns red quickly. '' I still haven't found the one, '' she replied.

“ It's not about the one lessi bear, it's about basic human needs.” you add.

“ Well no not for me. I want to feel safe and comfortable and I still haven't found the person yet.” she says now turning completely flushed.

“ Well I think you are less beautiful and that person would be lucky.” you say

“ stop it you lot flirt with each other when we are not here.” said Ella jokingly.

“ I think that's our que toone . I am tired, let's go.”

“But i'm having a blast” she complained which earned her a smack on the arm. They quickly got up and left.

You were left with your roomie and you both went separately to do your nighttime routine. After a while you were both comfy in your separate beds but neither one of you could sleep.

“Do you think I am wrong for waiting?” She asked out of the blue.

“ I don't think you are wrong but I think you are missing out.” You responded with your eyes closed. The only light source in the room was a small lamp in the far corner so you couldn't read Alessia’s face but you heard her shift to her side facing you.

“ I think I waited too long . I am just embarrassed.” She says

“ No, the point you made about needing someone you trust is valid.” You responded. You feel her progressing blue eyes staring at you but you don't look back afraid of what you will see.

“Look at me.” she ordered.

You slowly shift to face her only seeing her shape because the room was dark.

“Less, don't mess with me.”

“ I trust you. I… you know.”

“ I don't actually.”

“Please come here.”

You obey her order, go next to her and slip under her covers.

“ Use your words start girl “

“Please kiss me.’

You do as she says, and give her the sweetest, most lovely kids in the world.

“ We can stop if you want to.” You insist

“No, I want this. I want you. I want to feel you.” She says before groping your face and kissing you sensually.

You stay like that for a while before you move to her neck and kids it softly. Then get coalker bone Al while you hands are roaming her body and hers are feeling yours.

Alessia was patient, she didn't rush to ask for anything, she was the most perfect girl.

“ You are such a good girl baby.” You say when you take off her shirt and bra to test if she would like it. You only got a sweet little moan in response.

“You are so beautiful.” You praise her as you move to her breasts.

You give each one a good amount of kissing and attention wanting to use other things so as not to overwhelm her.

You then slide your hands in her panties discovering the wet patch

“Somebody is excited.” You whisper in her ear only to see that her eyes were glued shut

“You are the most beautiful, perfect girl in the world. You are doing exactly what you should do, which is to enjoy yourself.” you whisper again in her ear soothing her.

She relaxed before she jumped again when your finger touched her swollen clit.

“It's okay baby girl.” You whisper again soothing her

You start rubbing little circles on her clit. You find a place that you think satisfied her as she becomes a moaning mess

“ Less I am gonna slip my finger inside you stop me when you feel uncomfortable.” You say to which she nodded.

“ No less your words please.”

“Okay I will.” She says while panting.

The first finger you slid in was painful as you watched her mix up a moan with a hiss. But when you loosened her up and slid the second one she got comfortable.

After a while of fucking her she says.

“Please I.. am… go…” she stutters.

“ It's okay, star girl, come for me baby. Come on my fingers.” You say as she releases the filthiest moans and comes on your fingers.

“That is a baby Ride it out.” You say kidding her again

‘ that was fucking amazing.”;She says.

“I am supposed to return the favor right?” she asks nervously.

“ Not today you need to rest.” You respond.

“Can you sleep next to me tonight?” She asks .

“Okay.” You say kissing her again.

#alessia russo #alessia russo × reader #alessia russo imagine #alessia russo smut #woso #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso community #woso request #woso smut #woso x reader

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beatrixstonehill2 · 5 months

Text

"Oh fuck, only three months into Backbreaker Challenge and I cannot believe I'm doing this..... My family knows I'm a streamer and I've been looking to increase my audience. So they convinced me to do this. I'm so screwed, aren't I? It sounded innocent, kind of fun. Plus, definitely like a good way to increase my popularity. I just have to take a two year supply of this ultra potent breast growth drug from South Korea, like the kind they give to idols and girl groups over there..... Grow a big, fat pair of titties for my fans and have my family encourage me along the way? Win-win.

Then I made the mistake of actually looking up the challenge. Soooo apparently all those popstars just take a tiny dose over years to maintain steady growth up to like a MM-Cup at the height of their career. If you take the pills like this, the way they were tested on girls in a bunch of clinical trials.... well, you end up totally immobilized by your boobs. Like, I'm just a streamer who plays games so if I'm stuck in bed with a massive pair of boobs I can't even lift, fine. It's whatever. But part of this challenge is trying to remain active, film yourself trying to exercise, dance, go to the gym, all while growing these massive boobs that weigh over 100lbs and not resign yourself to being bedbound. Look at how huge mine are! I was only a B-Cup three months ago. These things are like udders already, soooo heavy and starting to lactate, even....

How am I going to stay mobile for two years??? Well, apparently that's all part of the challenge. I commented on some vids and they recommended I learn to game and stream using eye-based software in case my poor back gives out, because apparently it's very possible I might wind up doing exactly as the challenge says. I could break my back! Wind up paralyzed.... It's happened to more than a few girls who did this. Then I'd be stuck in bed, my parents taking care of me. I wouldn't be able to feel anything..... I'd be surrounded by these gigantic breasts, but I wouldn't feel a single inch of them, or my own pussy..... I could only watch if somebody had their way with my sexy body. Look them in the eyes as they go to town, like a kid at a playground, fucking my giant boobs, my pussy, using me however they like. They could be as rough as they want, since I couldn't feel any of it anyway...... Actually, is it weird that I think it sounds kinda fun? Maybe I should take a little extra and stress out my poor back faster. Could you imagine watching me stream naked, propped up by my parents, posed like a doll, my mammoth tits bulging out in every direction all around me, weighing 200lbs each..... I chat with you guys and play just using my eyes, totally helpless. Maybe my biggest donors could even come visit me and have their way with my poor, helpless body as I play..... does that sound fun?"

#breast expansion #be #enormous breasts #immobility kink #extreme kink #dark kinks

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mypoisonedvine · 1 year

Text

𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙨𝙤𝙢 || dieter bravo x camgirl!reader (part three; finale)

read 𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙩 (part one) and 𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙢 (part two) first!

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 || he can't believe you're really here— now he has to just try not to blow it... figuratively speaking.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 || 5.7k

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 || smut (18+ only; unprotected sex, oral f receiving, multiple orgasms/overstimulation [for reader], creampie), sex work (however dieter technically does not pay the reader for sex, just her flight to visit him c:), mentions of covid-19 pandemic, soft dieter being soft, emotions!! lots of 'em!, extremely sappy/fluffy ending (oops?)

He wasn’t sure who he was more worried would get recognized: you, or himself.

It was his idea to go out to dinner first, in fact he’d insisted on it. Going out to dinner in times like these was a bit iffy, but thankfully the place had outdoor dining and you’d both already tested negative— for more than just the virus…

It was a beautiful evening to eat outside, but it made him even more anxious that any passerby might know him either of you from your respective works; so far, no one had said anything though.

As he watched you take a sip of your sparkling water, he realized that he hadn’t had a crush on anyone in a long, long time. He hadn’t had sweating palms and a racing heart and a dry throat over someone since probably high school. By the time he was in his BFA program, he was so focused on his craft that he didn’t find himself worrying much about that sort of stuff— and if he wanted to get someone into bed, it didn’t seem like much to stress over.

This was different. This wasn’t an issue of getting you to sleep with him, although he certainly hoped you wouldn’t renege on the intentions you’d stated before— this was about getting you to like him, maybe even (as he would’ve put it back when he last had a crush) ‘like like’ him.

“Was your flight okay?” Dieter asked compulsively to fill the silence, proud of himself for thinking of something to say.

“Still good,” you nodded. “You asked me that when we first got here.”

“Right,” he sighed, “sorry. I forgot.”

“It’s fine,” you laughed, setting your glass down on the white tablecloth. “I’m nervous, too. But in a good way.”

He smiled. “Yeah— I’m just really excited that you’re here. And it’s still kind of weirding me out that you’re… you know, real.”

“It’s definitely trippy,” you agreed. “When you see somebody over video chat a lot, they look sort of surreal in real life.”

“Are you… speaking from experience?” he wondered, lowering his voice a bit.

“Yeah— but not this kind of experience,” you clarified. “I’ve never met anyone from my work before— I told you that.”

“Right, yeah— I believe you,” he assured. “Have you ever flown overseas just to meet someone before?”

You laughed, looking down for a second. “No, I haven’t,” you answered, “but this isn’t the first time I’ve been, you know, wined and dined by somebody…”

“Well, I figured this wasn’t your first date,” Dieter scoffed.

“No, I mean— well, yeah,” you hummed, “but I, um… before I started camming, I was actually a sugar baby. So I’ve had my flights paid for before, is what I mean.”

He widened his eyes a little, but nodded— hoping to look more intrigued than overwhelmed. “Oh, wow, that’s— I don’t know a lot about that, honestly…”

“I was about to ask if you’d ever had a sugar baby before,” you smirked, “guess not.”

“Yeah, no,” he shook his head, “not my— not for me. Not before, I mean— is that what you want?”

He got a little nervous that you would only want that— a relationship built on money. He was more than happy to drop some cash on you— he’d offered to pay for everything for you on this trip, it only seemed fair when you had to come all this way— but he got a sick feeling in his stomach imagining that that was all you wanted from him.

But then again, he just said he didn’t know a lot about it, maybe it wasn’t like that… he just felt like it was another performance, and that was the last thing he needed from anybody.

“O-oh, no— not with us,” you answered quickly, blinking a few times, and he sighed with relief. “I mean, it was nice— it wasn’t all old guys and crazy finance douchebags like people think,” you explained with a laugh, “but it was… it was hard work, in its own way. ‘Cause another misconception is that it’s sex in exchange for money and gifts— it’s not, not the way I did it at least. Those guys wanted the ‘girlfriend experience’... that’s the most profitable thing, whether it’s online or in-person.”

Dieter cleared his throat; can’t blame them, I guess…

“But, you know, they didn’t have the time for a genuine relationship, so it was like giving that emotion but never receiving it,” you continued, “and that was exhausting. Not to mention most of them had other girls involved… I’m not a jealous person, but you know, that’s obviously not what I want for myself in the end. So I switched to camming, worked out well with the pandemic and everything…”

“I’m sure,” Dieter agreed. “So, um… maybe this is kind of a forward question, for a first date, but… what do you want for yourself in the end?”

You seemed to get a little more shy, then. “Well…” you began softly. “Despite what you’ve seen me do, I’m a pretty traditional girl. I want a serious relationship, I want a lifelong commitment, I want… a family, probably.”

It was hard not to feel a lump in his throat when you said that, even if his emotions were conflicted at best.

“I mean— that doesn’t have to be you,” you rushed out, “I’m just saying… that’s the end goal. I have a lot of time for that, in my opinion.”

“No, right,” he agreed. “So then, I guess the obvious question— and probably a much easier one— is what’s your goal for tonight?”

You raised an eyebrow. “I already told you my goal for tonight.”

He swallowed thickly. He remembered your last message before getting on the plane pretty clearly: boarding now. hopefully i can get some sleep but i’m pretty wired ngl. just thinking about getting there and jumping your bones. i want you to fuck me so hard i can’t walk (or think) straight.

“Honestly, I wouldn’t have minded at all if you just took me straight to the hotel,” you smirked, “but dinner is nice.”

“Yeah, I— I thought about it,” he admitted. “But… can I be honest?”

“Always.”

“I wanted this to be more than just… that,” he said. He wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to tell you, but he hoped it wouldn’t bother you too much. Thankfully, the gentle smile creeping up your face seemed to indicate that it wasn’t particularly offensive.

“So, what do you want this to be?” you pressed.

“We can figure that out as we go,” he offered, “we should get to know each other better— for real. But that night that we stayed up until three just talking after what was supposed to be a one-hour call—”

He saw you smile even wider as you remembered it.

“I haven’t felt close to anyone like that in—” he began, but it all stopped as the waiter suddenly appeared from thin air.

“Your tortellini, ma’am,” he said as he set your plate down in front of you, and you offered an intrigued ‘ooh’ as you examined the dish, “and your langoustines alla busara,” he finished as he set Dieter’s food down.

“Thank you,” you offered the server with a polite nod, but Dieter could only muster a hum— he was a little miffed that the guy had managed to interrupt such an important moment.

“Anything else I can get for you two?” he asked, looking back and forth.

You looked over at him to check first, before shaking your head and replying, “No, I think we’re alright.”

“Excellent,” he beamed. “And— can I just say one thing?”

You both paused, not sure what to make of that. “Uh, sure,” Dieter decided, since the waiter seemed to be looking at him.

“I loved you in Hunger Strike,” he said excitedly; Dieter tensed up, wanting to look at you to gauge your reaction but suddenly too afraid of what he’d find.

“Oh, thank you,” he mumbled out, “that… means a lot.”

“I mean, it really moved me,” the waiter insisted, even though Dieter just wanted this interaction to end promptly. “You were so— I’m really not trying to intrude, but is there any way I can get your autograph?”

Then he looked at you, and he couldn’t quite read the expression on your face— amusement, maybe, with a hefty dose of discomfort as well. You looked away and took a long sip of your drink. “Uhh,” Dieter choked, looking back at his adoring fan, “you’ll get my autograph when you bring the check.”

Seeming to realize that he had gone too far, the young man straightened up and cleared his throat. “Right, uh— enjoy your meal.”

Scampering away, he left the both of you behind, along with all that tension he’d created. How come he got a escape a situation that was his own fault, and Dieter was stuck here wondering if you would be upset that he didn’t tell you who he really was— or if you’d reveal you were a crazy stalker-fan the whole time— or if knowing he was famous would change your interest in being with him (if you even had any)?

“I’m… sorry about that,” Dieter finally offered to you, and you started to smile.

“Don’t be,” you chuckled, “it was kinda funny. Do you usually react so… badly, to that kind of thing?”

He coughed a bit. “No, I— are you not…? Do you know—?”

“I saw the movie, Hector, I don’t live under a rock,” you admitted.

“Oh.” Not sure what to say next, he blurted out the first thing that came to mind: “What did you think of it?”

Shrugging, you answered with a simple ‘eh’. There was a pause before he began to crack up— and then you did, too.

“So, I’ve been worrying about all you finding out about my career for nothing?” he assumed, and you nodded.

“I didn’t recognize you right away,” you explained, “but I put it together before we planned all this.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” he wondered.

“I mean, I didn’t think I needed to, really,” you shrugged again. “It’s just your job. I was ready to talk about it if you brought it up— if you wanted to vent about work or something— but you never did, so I figured it must not be relevant.”

“Does it… change anything between us?” he asked nervously. “Do you feel weird about going out with a movie star?”

“Mm, I don’t know about star…” you smirked, making him laugh again— and that was the part that was the same as always. You still made him laugh, and now that the two of you were really talking again, it felt just like that night that you talked for hours— but even better.

When the plates were cleaned and the bill was paid, the two of you walked back to his hotel— he’d picked this place in part because he could see it from his window. But that brief walk back was one of his favorite parts of the night so far, only because he’d slipped his arm around you, and you leaned into him: in that moment, he felt more normal than he had in a long time— and yet, at the same time, special in a way he’d never felt before.

“I tried to clean up in here, but—”

“Isn’t there housekeeping for that?” you wondered.

“Yeah, but… I’ve had the ‘do not disturb’ sign up for the past week,” Dieter explained. “Didn’t want anyone to come in while we were talking…”

“Right,” you smiled, finishing your examination of the room and turning to face him again. The door shut on its own; you were looking at him with every light in the room reflected in your eyes.

He stepped closer to you, and wrapped his arms around you, and— why were his palms so clammy? “I don’t think I’ve been this nervous to kiss someone since… since maybe my first ever kiss,” he recalled, and you laughed softly.

“Yeah, me either,” you whispered back, and he ran his hand over the curve of your hip. “Who was your first kiss?”

“Uh, Sandy something… Brendan, I think— no, Brennan… Sandy Brennan. We sat next to each other in History class in seventh grade,” he recalled. “What about you?”

“I mean, unless you count a peck or two from my kindergarten boyfriend,” you chuckled, “my first real kiss wasn’t until high school— Gregory Cho. But I wasn’t that nervous… actually, I was sort of ready to get it over with.”

“There was someone I was really nervous to kiss in high school, too,” he recalled, “but that was… different.”

“Who was it?”

That name was much easier to recall. “Alex Brooks.”

“Was she super pretty? Or popular?” you pressed, wondering what had him so nervous, what made it different.

“Both,” Dieter replied quickly. “And… he was captain of the basketball team.”

You didn’t react strongly, but he still noticed it.

“Is that—?” he began to ask.

“He sounds like a real catch,” you smiled. “Was he a good kisser?”

“Yeah,” Dieter laughed, “for a high schooler. I guess things don’t feel as special now as they did back then— just some decent making-out in someone’s dad’s truck was the coolest thing, now it’s like— it’s all right there, you don’t have to…” he trailed off, but started a new sentence. “I mean, even you— I’ve seen every part of you, but I just really met you for the first time. And somehow I’m so afraid to kiss you.”

You were still smiling, but it changed, and you reached up to rest your hand on the back of his neck; it made him shiver in the best way. “If you’re afraid, then it must still be pretty special.”

You kissed him, after all that; he would’ve felt bad for making you wait, if he wasn’t so fully engrossed in kissing you back and pulling you closer and breathing in deeply against your skin.

For a long time, that was all it was— just one, amazing kiss. Just his lips on yours and the gentle dance of trying to go further without going to far; just your hands holding tightly onto his shoulders as he gripped your waist through the dress.

You started to pull him across the room by his shirt— towards the bed— and broke away to speak; he tried to chase your lips for more, but stopped when you bit your lip and rested a finger on his chin.

“You haven’t seen every part of me,” you corrected him— even though he barely fucking remembered saying that after a kiss like that. “I mean, my body, sure, but… not who I really am.”

“Then show me that,” he pleaded. “That’s what I want— you, everything.”

You smiled wide and kissed him again, the two of you toppling onto the bed together.

He’d been thinking about doing this since the moment he saw you: pulling up the bottom of your dress so he could pet your thighs, enamored with the smoothness of your skin. “Baby,” he purred when he caught sight of your panties— what little there was of them. The lace just gave him a glimpse of what was beneath, a tease of your perfect little cunt.

“God, I need you so bad,” you groaned as you pulled him down for another kiss; he’d been hard since you wrapped your arms around him, and he could swear he was already throbbing by the time he rocked his hips against yours. “Fuck— feels even bigger than it looked…”

“Maybe your computer screen wasn’t big enough,” he joked, making you laugh lightly before another moan came out when he rocked down on you again. “What do you want, beautiful?”

“You… you know what I want…” you panted, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Humor me,” he encouraged, moving in to kiss your neck— and loving the way you squirmed under him.

“Want— want you to fuck me,” you whimpered, “want you to make me— fuck— yours…”

He groaned deeply as he rutted his hips into yours harder, finally taunting you to the point that you had to reach down and start opening his pants. “So eager,” he mocked playfully, as if he wasn’t going to ravage you the second you were done getting his cock out.

In fact, he almost tore your dress as he pulled it down to expose your chest, barely finding the time to appreciate the view of your tits before latching his mouth onto them. “Oh fuck,” you gasped, and he smiled around the pert nipple in his mouth; these had seemed sensitive from the way you toyed with them as you touched yourself, but it was heaven on earth to confirm his suspicion himself.

“Want me to make you mine?” he prompted again, voice muffled by your delicate skin in his mouth, and you whimpered as you nodded.

“Yes— please—” you begged.

“Not sure I can do that,” he warned, and you gave him a confused look. “You’re already mine, you told me yourself.”

You giggled, arching your back slightly as the tip of his tongue drew circles on you. "I did say that, didn't I?"

"Mhm," he confirmed. "Hard to forget."

"Well, m'still yours," you offered, "but I need you right now, I'll do— fuck, anything, just—"

"You don't need to do anything," he assured, looking up at you as he moved his mouth from your breast down a little lower, "just lay back and I'm gonna take care of you."

You bit your lip and nodded.

"Second I saw you I wanted to kiss you all over," he sighed.

"Well, I've got a couple ideas of where you can start," you smirked.

And yes, he would love to start there, but he needed to do his best not to rush this. So, smiling up at you first, he began his journey. His lips and tongue explored your body on his way down: a kiss here, a lick there, a playful bite when he felt extra naughty. "You're so fucking beautiful," he mumbled against you.

"Yeah? You too," you sighed.

He didn't think of himself like that— handsome, maybe, certainly aware of his better angles, but beautiful felt strange. But he liked it, especially when you said it. Especially when you said it while he was slotting his face between your legs.

It was even prettier up close, and the smell was fucking intoxicating: tangy and musky and sweet, heady, earthy, human. And he knew you'd taste even better.

So he dove right in. Maybe he should've started with your clit, that would've been the obvious choice, but his instincts led him to just slide his tongue right into your hole. If nothing else, it certainly seemed to take you off guard, and you gasped as you grabbed onto his hair with both hands.

"Baby, fuck, that's— oh god, you can't imagine how many times I thought of this," you admitted, breathing heavy already. He smiled against you, then gave you one big lick from the furthest down his tongue could reach all the way to the very top— all while holding fierce eye contact with you. "Fu-uuuuck," you choked, dropping your head back just as your eyes rolled up. "That's so… just do that again, please…"

He did it a few more times, noticing the way you seemed to get more impatient with each one, until your hips were chasing after his tongue. "Stay still, baby, don't you trust me to do this right?" he purred, holding tighter on your hips.

"Yeah, I just— been so long," you whimpered.

He just did his best to find what made you scream the loudest and keep doing that— you were so sensitive, he just had to press his tongue down flat on your clit and move it in circles and you’d start shaking and sobbing and begging. He moaned into you every time you tugged on his hair, having to rock his hips against the bed to appease his attention-deprived cock.

"You're… so amazing," you panted, "I— fuck! Oh god, I can't remember the last time someone—"

You never finished your thought, because he started fucking you with his tongue and you were too busy moaning his name, but he couldn't believe what a waste it was that nobody was eating this pussy on a regular basis.

"Gonna— oh fuck, yes, gonna come," you warned, "I… I'm gonna come so fucking hard…"

You started shaking, and he started fighting to keep you as still as he could so his work wouldn't be interrupted. For a second he wondered if you were already coming or not— but then you made this noise, and your cunt clamped down on his tongue, and you cried out his name; it was perfect, it was the most beautiful moment he could ever imagine.

When it became too much, you went from tugging his hair to pushing him away with it, and he grinned up at you with a breathy laugh. “Fuck, baby,” you whimpered, and he saw the tear streaks on your temples and cheeks. He traced one with his thumb before kissing you again— deep and hungry, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

He hummed when your hands reached down to work on getting his pants off— eager and shaky, he certainly related to that. As soon as your hand wrapped around his cock, he moaned, just from that. He was almost embarrassed about it, until you bit his lip in playful encouragement. "Does that feel good?" you purred.

"Yeah— your hands are better than mine," he laughed breathlessly.

"How about this?" you raised an eyebrow, swiping your thumb over his slit, and he groaned as he rocked into your touch.

"God, baby…" he groaned. As good as it felt, he found the strength to grab you by both your wrists and pin them down by your head. You grinned, struggling just a bit, and moaned as he slid his cock against your soaking pussy.

“Don’t tease me,” you begged, “feels like I’ve been waiting forever.”

But he wasn’t teasing you— he was psyching himself up.

Believe it or not, he actually felt pretty nervous about this part. Not for a lack of experience— for the entirely opposite reason. Dieter had been with a lot of people, and for the most part, it was all… the same. It all blended together— he only remembered those people from when he was a kid because he was a kid, and his romantic encounters were so few and far between. He could remember details of his various partners from the last few years— Crystal who had a clit piercing, Marvin who begged to be choked, Cameron who seemed to enjoy giving him a blowjob even more than he enjoyed receiving it— but this, the actual sex, it was generally pretty interchangeable.

So, he was worried that after all that build-up, after all the yearning and fantasizing and talking, that this would be the end of it being special— and you would just turn into a hook-up with a slightly more interesting backstory than the rest.

As valid as that fear was, it was far from enough to stop him now, not when you were looking up at him and tightening your fists as he kept you pinned and silently begging for him with your eyes.

He had to let go of one of your hands to guide himself inside, but he interlaced the other with your fingers while he did it— and then, with one strong push, he was fully within you.

“Oh my god,” he gasped, “you feel… different.”

You raised an eyebrow, chuckling a little. “Uh, different than what?”

Than everyone else. “I— I don’t know,” he breathed, “I’m not making sense.”

“Not really,” you agreed with a laugh.

“Hard to think straight right now,” he defended.

It wasn’t just that you felt different— it was that this felt different: being with someone he really cared about, that he wanted to impress, that he wanted to see after this was over.

Someone that he never wanted to let go of.

“You feel so fucking perfect,” you whimpered, “fuck, don’t stop— feels so good—”

One of the benefits of making you come on his tongue first was that he knew it wouldn't be that bad if he didn't last too long now— though that wasn't why he did it. In fact, this was rarely his issue, if anything sometimes he struggled to finish for unclear reasons.

But even if he could get away with finishing quickly, he wanted to make this last as long as he could. He never wanted this to end, actually.

As he found his pace— not too speedy yet, but with a bit of his eagerness showing— he kissed you again, deeply and hungrily. He wondered if he'd ever done this before: kissing during sex. He felt like he probably had, and yet he couldn't remember it— maybe that said more than anything.

This, on the other hand, was very memorable. He slid his arms under you when your back arched, he held you tight and close and drank in every one of your moans through that kiss.

For how many times he’d pictured fucking you, he never really imagined it like this… and he thought he’d imagined it every way before. But he realized that he’d mostly imagined it a bit kinker— you riding him, or him fucking you while you were bent over the table in his room, or 69’ing or something. This was passionate, and sorta slow; this was his hips grinding on yours with every thrust so he could keep rubbing your sore clit; this was making love, he realized— if it wasn’t, he couldn’t imagine what was.

“I— fuck, baby— think I’m gonna come again,” you warned him with the most beautiful whiny sob.

“Fuck, already?” he smiled, and you nodded feverishly.

“Just… don’t stop, please, just like that— fuuuuck!” you choked, and he gasped every time your walls clenched down on him.

“You’re so fucking perfect, fuck,” he grunted, moving a bit faster and not letting up on the pressure from his pubic bone on your clit, even when you actually screamed under him. “You’re so amazing, oh god, I—”

He heard it before he said it: I think I love you. He stopped himself before blurting it out— maybe he’d tell you after, but he wasn’t so far gone to forget that this wasn’t the right time. You’d think he didn’t really mean it, that it was just the delirium talking from how incredible you felt, but he knew it was so much more than that.

He shut himself up by kissing your neck— not too hard, but plenty to leave a mark, and make you squirm in the process. Your hands wrapped around his back and your nails dug into his skin, but he couldn’t even feel the pain of it, he couldn’t feel anything but the sticky, resplendent heat of your body.

“So much fucking better than the goddamn dildos,” you said suddenly, and he laughed against your skin.

“Do you miss all those people watching you come?” he wondered.

“No, fuck no,” you panted, “there’s nobody else but you.”

He couldn’t help but fuck you faster when you said that— you should’ve known better than to stroke his ego that way.

“Fuck!” you sobbed. “Hector, baby, you’re so— oh god, I don’t know if I can take it—”

“Shh, you can,” he promised, “you can do anything, you can come for me again—”

“Oh fuck, I— I might,” you admitted shakily, “but then I’ll— I’ll fucking pass out or something.”

“No, you’ll be okay,” he promised, cooing at you softly. “You’ll be so good for me, I know you will— just come for me one more time, baby, tell me what you need to come again.”

“I… just a little time is all I need,” you answered, voice breaking. “I swear I’ve never— I’m not usually so— fuck, it’s just you—”

“I know,” he assured, loving the way you babbled praises but worried it would distract you from coming again; and if you didn’t soon, there wouldn’t be time before he lost it. He was already barely able to keep his composure just from how beautiful you looked like this, let alone how you felt. “I know, just let it happen, I know it’s right there for me— just come for me, beautiful—”

You dragged him down into a sloppy kiss, and he felt it— those incredible pulses inside you, waves of slick coating him until he felt sticky all the way down his thighs; your sobs were more precious than anything he’d ever heard.

“Fuck, that’s good,” he praised, fucking you even faster now as your head fell back limply. “I can’t h-hold back anymore, I need to—”

“I know,” you said to him this time, “it’s okay, please— want you to…”

“You still— oh my god…” he choked, losing his train of thought for a moment. “You still want me to come inside you? Wanna be full?”

“Yes,” you whined, “yes, baby, please— wanna be so full of your come, I want everything—”

"Fuck, okay," he agreed, gasping as he tried to keep up his pace despite the growing pressure inside. "I'm really fucking close…”

“I’m yours,” you told him again— and then he went from ‘really fucking close’ to ‘already fucking there’. He came inside you with a long, whimpered groan; his head dropped onto your shoulder while each pump filled you, trying to catch his breath but feeling like he’d never find it again.

Admitting he loved you during sex wasn’t a good idea, but saying it immediately after wasn’t that much of an improvement. Now, though, he was too exhausted to keep his mouth shut. “I think I love you,” he blurted out suddenly.

For one incredibly long second, you didn’t react at all. You looked up at him, and he hesitated to even look back because he didn’t want to see anything less than ecstasy on your face. “Oh,” you said, “cool.”

He wasn’t sure what reaction he anticipated, good or bad, but it wasn’t that.

“Let me know when you know,” you suggested.

“No! No— I know,” he insisted, reaching up to hold your face, “I know. I love you. I think I did even before you came here, but… it just seemed so crazy. We don’t know each other as well as we should for that, right? But I feel it— I feel something that I just can’t explain—”

“Hey, slow down,” you laughed, “I feel it too.”

The way you smiled at him, resting your hand on his chest— was he glowing? He felt like he was actually glowing. “Good,” he decided.

“Let’s get to know each other better, then,” you announced. “Start from the beginning, the whole thing: parents, siblings, school, favorite movies, worst dates, hot dogs or hamburgers—”

“No, you start,” he pouted, “you’re more interesting.”

“Me? Please, I’m just your average camgirl titty streamer, don’t worry about it,” you scoffed.

“And I’m just some lame old Oscar winner,” he shrugged.

But both of you talked— all night, actually. You never fell asleep, he was never even that tired— you kept him so full of energy he didn’t even notice how long it had been until the sun started to come up. And then you kept talking at breakfast. And then you fucked again, and talked some more after; he knew it had to end, eventually, but he didn’t even want to think about it. He didn’t want to think about you going home and letting something so perfect end.

He told you just as much on the last night— assuming you didn’t switch your flight home to a later day again. You’d just been laying in his arms after another bout of passionately desperate fucking, both of you half-asleep but not wanting the separation of even just unconsciousness, and he blurted it out.

“Don’t leave,” he pleaded under his breath. “I don’t want you to go.”

“I know you don’t,” you returned softly.

“I don’t want this to end.”

You were quiet for a while, turning over on your side to face him, tracing your fingers over his chest gently. “It doesn’t have to end, just because I leave,” you mumbled. “I know it’s crazy, but we can be together, even if we’re not… together. I mean, I’m certainly not gonna be with anybody else—”

“Me either,” he said quickly, before he could change his own mind with the doubts— the voice in his head that said he could never settle down because he’s too fucked up. “I only want you.”

“It’ll suck, being far away from each other— but you’ll be back Stateside eventually, right?” you assumed.

“God, I hope so,” he sighed, “if the world doesn’t end.”

“If it does,” you whispered, moving in closer, “I hope it’s tonight. I wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else but here.”

It was a romantic thought, but as he kissed you, he realized he’d never wanted the world to end less than he did right now. He never longed for an apocalypse or anything, even on nights that his doubts and anxieties made him yearn for oblivion just for himself, but just now he could’ve cried thinking about everything falling apart tonight. Whether it be by fiery explosion or a quiet, instant disappearance, he couldn’t let armageddon happen now— now that he had you. For the first time, he saw himself having a future, in a way he never had before. Existing as a ‘celebrity’ meant being on the edge of irrelevance at any moment, knowing this could all go away overnight and you’d just be ‘that guy who was in that thing that one time’.

But this time, he stood on a precipice of something wonderful, of something natural, and it was the most beautifully terrifying unknown. It was tomorrow. Tomorrow, you’d get on the plane; tomorrow, you’d leave, because the world wasn’t going to end tonight. But his life was going to start tonight, and he didn’t have to face it alone anymore.

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