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iamafanofcartoons · 9 months

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You heard of Yorse You heard of Bloconut You heard of Oscar Lime Now introducing Rubiks Rose #RWBY #GREENLIGHTVOLUME10

www.twitter.com/StormingZee/status/1680618938999226369

#stormingzee rwby #zee rwby #yorse #bloconut #rubiks rose #oscar lime #rwby meme #rwby cursed #rwby #rwby memes #rwby ruby rose #ruby rwby #ruby rose

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xuzuitengenx · 10 months

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Miguel O'hara x Top Male Reader NSFW Oneshot

Warning(s): EXPLICIT WORDS, OOC moments, Nipple Play, Marking(hickeys)

Miguel's desperate moans filled M/N's ears as his tongue lapped with Miguel's nipples, teeth biting his nub gently before M/N moved onto the other nipple.

M/N was currently between Miguel's legs as he fondled and played with Miguel's chest or as M/N calls them—Man Boobies.

Miguel's hands were occasionally tugging on M/N's hair, his hips beginning to thrust upwards, wanting some friction as his sensitive chest was getting the attention.

M/N latches off of Miguel and looks at him, seeing Miguel's red face as he breaths heavy.

"Fuck, I just love your boobs, Miguel.. I wonder if you could give me a good boob-job with those big breast of yours." M/N says as he squeezes Miguel's chest.

Miguel whines at what M/N said, feeling his chest being kissed once more before M/N began sucking his tan skin, leaving behind hickeys on his chest.

"Shit..~" Miguel moans out, his cock throbbing and ached for attention.

It wasn't until M/N moved lower from Miguel's chest to his muscular abdomen. M/N's kisses continued until

M/N reached Miguel's erection through his pants.

M/N kisses the tip of Miguel's cock through his pants, feeling the pre-cum starting to wet his pants, staining.

"M/N, please..~" Miguel whimpers, begging for further pleasure, his legs trembling lightly.

M/N hums, hooking his finger on Miguel's pants, pulling them down to Miguel's thighs, revealing Miguel's boxers which was wet with pre-cum.

"We have a long night ahead of us, love~" M/N warns with a smirk, making Miguel shiver as he nods.

#x male reader #dom male reader #male reader #mature #seme male reader #top male reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x male reader #miguel o'hara x m!reader #miguel spiderman #spider man 2099 #oscar issac characters #oscar issac #oscar isaac x male reader #smut #miguel o'hara smut #lime

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unknown-limes · 2 years

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Someday I wanna own an a-frame house out in the countryside where I have plenty of space to grow as many of these as I want and I'll set aside full days for canning and making jams n sauces n whatever else I can think of, and my loved ones'll come around to pick some up bc I have too many n they'll find me sitting on the porch with a lovely novel and a bowl of the little ones for snacking on.

And they'll come inside for the canned tomatoes n we'll end up talking the rest of the afternoon away, until I realize it's dinner time and invite them to stay for supper n they say "oh, no, I wouldn't want to impose, I should be gettin home anyway" and then they kept chatting for another half hour while I get supper ready.

#i'm dreamin' babes #aesthetic #aesthetic vibes #cottagecore #tomato #literally want this so bad #i could go on more but i won't bc that'd be a three mile post and no one likes those #but like i also imagine there's cats involved in this scenario. like two fat old gray tabby boys named Ichabod and Oscar #and the boys are milling around us begging the guest for pets and treats and purring when we reach down to rub their sweet lil cheeks #and the sunlight's streaming in through the windows n it's turning a golden color as we're sitting at the kitchen table laughing #bro i'm literally about to cry out of happiness just imagining it #someday that's gonna be my life. i know i can get there if I don't give up on it #i know the twitter post probably isn't actually every variety but it sure is a lot!#Limes Blabs

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sparkycinnamon · 2 years

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Lucas hcs 👀

They, Oscar, and Larry are either siblings or very close cousins. Lucas is the oldest of the trio.

They're good friends with Todd, and decided to get a job at BRIBBLECO after Todd got a job there (and also indirectly convinced Larry and Oscar to join too).

They love their mom and they hate eggs.

Their favorite type of music is classical.

They're friends with Charles the Cheese Wheel.

Their favorite show is Hey Arnold.

#answerin' an awesome ask #anons #cleaning simulator #lucas the lemon #oscar the orange #larry the lime #todd the turnip #charles the cheese wheel #right hand rambles

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gutsby · 4 months

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Fake It Til You Make It (Or Drown)

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Summary: Daryl finds out you faked an orgasm. Instead of getting mad, he decides to get even.

Warnings: NSFW. Every TWD character is drunk in this. Unprotected p-in-v. Soiling Michonne’s decorative towels and almost drowning Eugene. Carol-mandated makeup time with Daryl turns to edging and angry sex.

And the Oscar for Best Faked Orgasm goes to…

“Y/N,” Daryl groaned, shooting his load deep inside you.

You arched your back and curled your toes, even let out a sultry little gasp for good measure. Forced your walls to clench around his cock then pulse, periodically—you counted a silent one, two, squeeze in your head every so often and tried to make it so your tremors felt authentic. You practically had this shit down to a science by now.

Women like you weren’t built for quickies. You needed more time to cum, no matter the occasion.

You simply couldn’t and wouldn’t ever make it to climax with fifteen seconds of foreplay followed by Daryl throwing you up against the counter and jackhammering you hard on the edge for three minutes max. This wasn’t a porno, and you didn’t have a clit made of firecrackers.

Men like Daryl couldn’t stand the thought of you not cumming every time you had sex, though, so you sought to ease his mind on the matter during times you knew it was a physical impossibility to reach bliss. A liar you were not, but an occasional teller of euphoric fibs? Hell, you might’ve been tempted to dabble every now and then.

You adored the way he looked down at you when he finished, chocolate locks matted to his forehead and a smile shining bright on his face. He was tender and sweet, always gentle to pry you off of the sink, and he’d be watching you with admiration all the while.

Rick and Michonne’s booze-fueled pool parties had that effect on you both—always scrambling for a spare room to fuck in the second you arrived like you’d forgotten how good the other one looked dressed in swimwear.

Daryl shimmied the bottom half of your lime green bikini back up your legs and patted your rear with affection.

“I think Rick would be proud,” he said.

“I think Michonne would be pissed.”

You glanced down at the lovely little decorative towels Daryl had used as a sweat rag and made a mental note to wash those back at your place. You yelped when Daryl dropped his hand back down to your heat.

“Still sensitive?” he smiled.

“Uh huh.”

You were already trying to slide past his frame toward the bathroom door, where the sounds of the party outside were growing louder each minute. In truth, you knew that spot where Daryl’s fingers had almost grazed would have been a lot more sensitive had you actually just came, and that tell alone would have given your act away. You couldn’t have that, so you quickly pulled him in for a kiss and pushed his hands back up to your hips.

Daryl’s tongue traced the seal of your lips and parted them for a far more passionate kiss than you’d expected. You let his tongue roam anyway, but inside, you felt slightly confused as to why your boyfriend was still so…horny when he’d just blown his load a minute ago.

You moved languidly toward the door as Daryl continued to kiss you. He was touching your waist a little strangely, the more you came to think of it. Maybe frisky from the whiskey?

Your hand reached the doorknob the second his did. Daryl pulled away and let the corners of his mouth twist almost cruelly in a grin before turning the handle and nudging you out.

You shuffled a few awkward steps past the door. Daryl was hot on your heels, hand at the small of your back when his lips returned to your ear—just for a second, this time. He leaned in close, now, and murmured real low:

“I know you faked it.”

Then he pushed you forward again, only for you to trip over your own two feet trying to turn and face him.

“What?” you hissed. Playing dumb.

But if you could play dumb, Daryl was more than happy to play stupid as fuck. He ignored your outburst altogether and waved at someone behind you, pretending not to see you staring up at him with exasperation painting your face.

“Eugene! Swim trunks look great.”

Across the room, Eugene extended a lengthy ‘thank you’ and told Daryl that he, too, was looking snazzy, and you knew better than to try and pry Daryl’s attention away. Reluctantly, you turned around and made every effort not to show your present emotions on your face. In truth, you were nervous as fuck wondering what Daryl might do now that he knew you’d faked your climax.

You could try and make it up quick. Minimize the fallout.

The second Eugene departed, and it was just the two of you standing in the kitchen, you shamelessly reached for the outline of Daryl’s dick in his shorts.

Daryl swatted your hand away.

“My penis only goes where it’s appreciated,” he told you quietly, feigning that same stupid smile that signaled to everyone else who might pass by that things were fine.

They weren’t. Daryl probably hated your guts right now.

His seed was still dripping from your cunt, and you longed for the feeling of having him inside you, whole. But you got the sense that that wasn’t happening any time soon, as Daryl promptly greeted two more familiar faces and obliged you to mingle too. You faced Rosita and Abraham with a thinly veiled look of despair, and you gathered that the former picked up on it pretty fast.

“What’s up?” Rosita asked, pulling you to the side while Daryl and Abe chatted.

“I fucked up bad, like— legitimately screwed the pooch.”

“What did you do?”

You pursed your lips and felt the burn of Daryl’s glare over Rosita’s shoulder, sensing then that you’d probably be better off just keeping your mouth shut.

Hurriedly, you said under your breath,

“IfakedanorgasmandDaryl’sreallymad.”

“Daryl’s mad at what? Why?” Rosita said, shrill as ever.

You wanted to clamp your hand over her mouth, but it was too late. Daryl was quick to find your form lingering on his periphery and took your waist in one arm in a lasso-like motion. You guessed you’d be taken off to the slaughter any minute now—which was just getting chewed out by Daryl or given a half-dozen grumpy looks. You almost would’ve preferred the knife to the throat.

Confirming your worst fears, Daryl raised a beer with Abraham and suggested you all go for a swim.

That sounded like a setup if you’d ever heard one.

Perhaps overwrought with paranoia and a few too many Twisted Teas, you found your feet shuffling as slow as you could toward the thick sliding doors and Rosita at your rear asking what the hell was going on.

You made a big, fat ‘O’ with your hands and shook your head, hoping she’d understand—and Daryl wouldn’t see. It turned out neither of your wishes were to come true in that moment, and your boyfriend only pulled you closer to his side while the four of you strolled outside.

“Real mature,” he muttered.

“You’re one to talk,” you retorted.

“Could we please talk at a level most humans can hear?”

That last interjection was Eugene, sidling up to the group with his floaties already strapped to his biceps. You eyed the man, then his beer, then his bright red flotation devices, and hoped like hell Daryl wasn’t about to start playing drunk trivia now that your genius friend was plastered. Or worse yet, encourage him to swim.

“How many lies does the average woman tell in her life?”

You really needed to start keeping your hopes and dreams to yourself. You glared at Daryl.

Eugene was already devising some half-baked formula in his brain, or else retrieving another far-removed factoid that he’d learned on a game show in 2005, and presently answered Daryl’s question with a quirk of his brow.

“I…can’t say it’s a gender-dependent question, my friend. If I were to make an educated guess I’d give—”

“A million more for men,” Rosita interrupted, flashing a wry smile at Abraham, “Most men lie like they breathe.”

“Amen!” Carol called from the tiki bar. You loved and you hated Alexandria’s grown-up parties sometimes.

“Well maybe— maybe men lie more to get sex, but women lie about sex.” Daryl shot the most conspicuous look in your direction, and you’re fairly certain Rick and Michonne shared a look of, ‘Ah shit,’ simultaneously.

Inside, the two were secretly hoping they’d catch wind from the babysitter that Judith and RJ wanted to be picked up, or else learned that a horde of walkers had laid siege on one of the outer-facing walls, because they knew from experience that these fights never ended well. The last time you and Daryl ticked each other off in public there had come a very loud and very obnoxious karaoke rendition of Fleetwood Mac’s ‘Silver Springs’ sung drunkenly between the two of you, and frankly, no one at the party wanted to see a repeat of that.

You wrested your arm out of Daryl’s hold and took a seat opposite Carol at the bar. Nodding when she offered to pour you some tropical concoction with a lot of rum, then pretending not to see Sasha eye Daryl warily.

“Whiskey dick give him trouble?” she murmured to you.

“You say his brother’s name in bed?” Rosita quipped.

“First off, he’s dead,” you said, before dropping your voice to a whisper, “Second, it wasn’t the whiskey or anything, I just…couldn’t cum, so I faked it. That’s it!”

You figured if Daryl was airing out your dirty laundry for the whole group to hear, you might as well beat him to the punch when it came to your closest friends. You could tell Sasha was trying hard not to smirk.

“That’s…that’s it?” she reiterated.

“Just now,” you mumbled, “Don’t tell Rick and Michonne, but we were holed up in the bathroom an—”

“Anyway, okay, no details but you told a little lie, so what?” Sasha proceeded without a hitch.

Carol waved the margarita she was making in vehement agreement and handed it over to you. Telling you to drink, now, with her eyes as soon as she caught a glimpse of Daryl’s disgruntled expression across the way.

“Yeah, so what? You told a fib to keep his ego intact, what’s the harm?”

“I’m saying!” You pointed to her before taking a sip.

“I think honesty is the best policy,” Daryl declared out loud like he’d just discovered the Atlantic.

At his side, Eugene eyed him up and down as if to say, ‘What the fuck are we talking about?’ You surmised that probably only half the group understood what was going on between Daryl and you, but most got the gist that the two of you were beefing. Again. Carol proceeded to drain her piña colada like her life depended on it, and Abraham and Rick suddenly gained interest in something inside.

Daryl wasn’t backing down. In fact, he raised his voice.

“And if she’s willin’ ta lie once, who knows how many other times she—”

“Be fucking for real,” you rolled your eyes, “I wasn’t faking most other times, and you know it.”

“Most times? So ya did it other times?”

“Folks, I cannot say with utmost certainty that this is a healthy coping mechanism for a relationship like y—”

“Shut up, Eugene.”

You could tell just how incensed Daryl was by the color of his cheeks. In a world that almost never raised the hue above a baby pink, you were alarmed to see him turn a shade or two shy of crimson. You knew something lewd or unkind was likely to flare behind those cobalt eyes any second now.

“How many times for Spencer, then?” Daryl growled.

He knew that shit was off-limits. A happenstance situationship that started and ended long before you’d ever dated Daryl. Now he was just being mean.

“Alright, guys, how about we take a second to cool off?” Michonne was using the same voice she assumed whenever trying to talk Judith or RJ out of a cranky mood. You saw Daryl already had the insolent pout of the children down pat, that was for sure.

“Maybe if you’d asked Leah she would’ve said the same,” you spat.

Daryl abandoned his beer and moved closer to you, just narrowly checked by Sasha’s warning touch and even more persuasive gaze. He paused for a second, crinkled his nose, and seemed to be considering something a moment or two longer before finally deciding to be petty.

“At least I didn’t have to ask Leah to swallow.”

That was it. You reared back and chucked your bright pink strawberry marg directly at Daryl’s head, unleashing a string of unsavory names as you did so. Daryl easily side-stepped, and the next in line to receive the airborne drink was Eugene. Completely defenseless, per usual, and not at all prepared to be hit in the face by a plastic glass filled with syrup, liquor, and slush, the man was a sitting duck.

He shrieked the second it struck him below the eyebrow. His hand clamped over his eye, and he stumbled back a few steps.

“Eugene!” came more than one voice, including your own.

The mulleted man wailed and spun perilously on his heels, trying blindly to make a beeline for the house but ending up walking straight into the pool ahead of him. Your whole party jumped to their feet and scrambled after him.

Apart from the aid of his arm floaties, the man was completely unable to swim—and still blinking fiercely through a sheet of strawberry-flavored ice as he flailed about in the water and cried for help.

Sasha, Rosita, Michonne, and Daryl didn’t hesitate; all four dove head first into the pool to save their friend.

Two hours had passed, and you and Daryl were still in time-out—courtesy of Carol and Michonne.

Deprived of your right to drink, smoke, fight, or fuck (at least not with condoms), you and your boyfriend had been placed in indefinite non-solitary confinement sitting perched outside the hot tub with instructions to make up, or else. So far, no words had passed between the two of you, and it had just started to rain.

Daryl waved to the kitchen window, where Carol was watching you both with narrowed eyes.

“Can we come inside now?” he groaned, motioning to the storm clouds overhead.

Carol gave him one emphatic thumbs down and turned to stir her broth on the stove.

This was your group-imposed “getting along” punishment: stay outside until you make amends. You kicked your feet in the bubbling water and cursed yourself for ever thinking it was a wise idea to stroke a man’s ego and fake an orgasm in the first place.

Then you lowered yourself into the water, seeing as there was not much else to do.

“Ya tryna be human stew? Get out,” Daryl snapped.

“Great, maybe Carol can throw me in her soup and I won’t have to continue this stupid fucking conversation.” You knew the dangers of swimming in a rainstorm, but you didn’t want to give Daryl the satisfaction of knowing you’d stop for his sake. You sank deeper into the hot tub.

Daryl slid across the wet slab of rock and concrete and reached for your shoulder.

“Quit bein’ difficult.”

“Quit being pushy,” you said with an ineffectual splash in his direction. His fingertips still seared hot on your skin as he touched you just above the shoulder blade.

“Oh, was I also bein’ pushy—” Daryl cut himself short.

You looked up, curious. Still refusing to budge.

“Pushy when?”

“When you took your pretty ass outta this tub before you got struck by lightning.”

Daryl received an unamused scowl in return. When you pressed again, he bent down and took you underneath both armpits, hauling you out of the hot tub with infuriating ease.

“Or when I…wanted to have sex and you clearly didn’t.”

Ouch. You jumped back in the water with an even deeper frown.

“I still wanted to have sex, Daryl! I just couldn’t get off as quick as you.”

“So you lied.”

You hastened to the other side of the mini pool when Daryl climbed inside. Your back flattened on the rock, and your eyes shot him a critical look as if to say, ‘I ain’t coming out.’

“Technically, you never asked,” you shrugged.

Daryl scoffed and straightened his own posture on the opposite end of the hot tub, feigning amusement but likely inflamed with irritation inside.

“I touched— I rubbed your pussy to see if you were sensitive. Don’t that mean somethin’?”

“Means you didn’t ask me shit. I never said I came.” You folded your arms across your chest in defiance, but deep down, you knew that a lie by omission was still a lie. Daryl’s facial expression communicated as much as he swam in your direction.

“So you couldn’t…ask me to wait a little longer to help you finish?” Daryl approached you close enough to graze your knees, so you felt obliged to press yourself harder against the wall, “Ya know I’d eat the cum out yer pussy if I knew it’d get ya off, sweetheart.”

Indeed, you knew. You should’ve known better than to accuse him of selfishness or inadequate communication—Daryl was a generous lover, and one who was always willing to wait, whether that meant delaying his climax or putting a pause on sex altogether. You felt an unlikely shiver in the boiling hot water when your boyfriend’s frame slipped between your legs beneath the surface.

“Even if I’d finished first, ya know I’d lick ya clean and make that pretty pussy cum all over my face an’ fingers. Ya do know tha’, right?”

He wanted to hear you say it. His hands had just started to trail a slow course up your legs as you released a shaky breath and nodded your head.

“I know, baby, I just— I just like seeing how riled up and sweaty you get when you fuck me for a quickie. You always seem so…satisfied pulling out I just hate to make you get hard all over again on my account.” Your voice was quieter then, breaking off in the gentlest whimper when Daryl’s knuckles grazed your heat.

Then, with the other hand, he moved your fingers to feel how hard he was under his swim trunks.

“Thought ya knew me better’n tha’,” he tsked you softly as he rubbed your hand up and down the length of his clothed erection, “I’m always hard fer ya, honey.”

You swallowed and sighed the second you felt him throb in your hand underwater. You wanted him now.

When your fingers fumbled for the drawstring of his shorts, however, Daryl nudged your touch away. Brought his own to the bottom of the bright green bikini you were wearing and slipped a digit underneath the fabric.

“This poor little clit,” he lamented, circling just lightly enough to draw breathy mewls from your mouth.

You spread your legs even wider to allow him access. When he pulled you to his chest, you felt his heart thrumming as fast as yours was. The light drizzle of rain overhead was growing heavier by the second.

This was not the makeup session Carol or Michonne had envisioned when they’d sent the two of you off to talk. You and Daryl just happened to make amends a little differently than most—semi-publicly, sometimes.

“Can’t imagine how bad it’s been achin’ since I last fucked that pretty little hole,” Daryl continued, index and middle finger now rubbing lazy circles over the spot where he’d pried your bikini to the side.

You sat, spread eagle with your mouth ajar and your eyes on his. Oh, how he loved you like this: partly supine and looking so pathetic. His fingers worked even faster.

“Been needin’ daddy’s touch, has it?” he teased before moving his digits to your slick entrance. Then, pressing just a finger inside and feeling your walls instinctively contract, “Now tha’s a believable squeeze.”

He smiled and you realized he knew a real clench from a fake one by now. That dramatized show you’d put on for him earlier almost made you feel ashamed now, gathering just how good a proper fingerfucking felt when you actually gave your boyfriend the chance to try.

He pushed another finger inside and curled them both with expert precision. You let out a helpless moan the second he grazed your g-spot.

“Baby, I need it,” you whimpered, “I need to cum so, so badly.”

Daryl nodded as though feeling your pleasure—and pain. He worked a vicious rhythm against your cunt and let a smile spread across his lips the longer he watched you writhe and moan amidst the hot, churning waters. When your stomach started to flutter and your entrance gave a warning pulse, you didn’t even need to inform him of your impending climax; you closed your eyes and prepared for the sweet bliss in expectant silence.

That was, until, Daryl retracted his fingers and climbed out of the hot tub.

Sorely misled ecstasy withered before your eyes.

You whined. Louder than you meant to.

“Daryl!”

Your boyfriend had taken up a spot standing at the side of the hot tub, pretending to be so overcome with heat exhaustion that he just couldn’t stay in a second longer.

He wiped his brow and watched you smugly.

“You say sumn’, sugar?” he asked as he sat down on the water’s edge to plant a kiss at the top of your head.

“You’re sick,” you muttered, dodging any additional condescending smooches by scooting over. When Daryl slowly leaned down toward the water, you scowled.

Then he patted the wet slab of concrete beside him.

“Jus’ want you to cum on my tongue. C’mon.” He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world—clearly he couldn’t eat you out underwater, so he was just being kind to give you a place to sit while he tonguefucked you silly.

You pretended not to notice the smirk twisting at the corners of his lips as you climbed out of the hot tub and reluctantly followed his motions.

Your legs spread just a little, now perched at the edge of the sauna while Daryl sank back in the water and positioned his head perfectly with your core. A sidelong glance to the nearest window showed that Carol had disappeared from the kitchen, but you knew you would have to make this quick.

Without ceremony, you yanked a tuft of Daryl’s wet hair and guided his face even closer to your heat. Far past the point of pleasantries, you pulled your bathing suit to the side and presented yourself, bare as ever, to Daryl’s eager tongue and lips.

Your boyfriend supplied you with both in an instant, dragging his tongue up the whole length of your slit with a groan. Wanting to savor the taste, were it not for your quiet pleas for him to finish this, please, Carol could be back any minute.

Daryl lapped between your folds, happy as ever, and left a series of suctioned kisses on the spots where he knew you needed him most. Gripped your thighs in either hand, pulled your bottoms so far he almost snapped the fabric in half, and practically devoured that needy cunt.

The man was a pussy-eating prodigy, to put it mildly. He dove deep between your thighs like oxygen was the furthest thing from his mind and sucked on your clit as if it were a lifeline. Your back arched out of instinct, legs clamping on either side of his head and chest rising and falling in stuttered breaths. You moaned and felt Daryl’s own grunts join the reverberations shaking your body; for a second, you thought you were almost seeing stars.

When Daryl inserted two fingers and swirled his tongue around that sensitive nub, you were certain that moment was soon to come.

“Mmm, just like that, baby, fuck,” you breathed, rutting your hips ever slightly against his face. Daryl, soaked with your arousal and waves of scalding water, just held his place and kept licking over, and over, and over.

Your grip fastened harsher in his hair the second a pleasant coil pulled tight along your tummy. You planted your calves on either side of Daryl’s neck, braced your body to the concrete, and felt a heady bliss make its second appearance of the night.

A quiet slurp marked the sudden disconnect between Daryl’s mouth and your aching core. You almost fell off the edge of the hot tub as your mind and body both stopped devastatingly short of full climax. This time, you almost shrieked.

“DARYL!”

“Got a tongue cramp. Sorry.”

Too bad he was grinning from ear-to-ear with no trace of a muscle spasm anywhere on his face. You splashed him with a massive wave and went scrambling to your feet.

“Fuck this. I’ve got a vibrator at home.” You were already pulling your panties back in place, muttering some less-than kind words under your breath, and kicking yourself twice for ever believing Daryl was mature enough to treat this as anything other than a game.

“Hey! Baby, wait!” Daryl called after you. Then he was getting up and getting out too.

“You blame me for fucking around, and you— you go and pull some shit like this?!”

You waved a silent, dismissive hand when Daryl started after you, trailing hot on your heels with a look that almost would’ve seemed apologetic had he not been fighting a laugh the entire time.

When his hands landed on your shoulders from behind, you moved to shrug him off and told him, with a finger supplanting your words, to get fucked. You groaned internally when Daryl pulled you in for a tight embrace.

“It’s called edging, sweetheart,” he hummed in your ear.

“It’s called being an asshole and shutting my orgasms down on purpose.” You wriggled to free yourself from his arms but found the man behind you unwilling to cooperate; in fact, the more you struggled, the more snug his grasp got. You battled against his far superior strength no longer than a minute or two before Daryl plucked you right off your feet and into a bridal hold.

“What do we say when we really wanna cum?” he asked, almost patronizing. Then, as if to put a finer point on it, he ambled toward the edge of the pool and swayed your soft, soaking frame over it.

“You’re fucking crazy!” you hissed, still wrestling against his chest.

You sensed that might not have been the wisest choice of words given your current predicament, but Daryl didn’t seem fazed in the slightest.

“Did I hear a ‘please’ in there?” he asked, rocking you back and forth over the water’s edge.

“Please put me down.” Your voice was low and importunate, eyes warning him just the same.

“O-kay.”

And down you went. Into the pool. Your boyfriend still cradling you in his arms while you thrashed and splashed and called him every profane name in the book.

You’d just swept the wet mass of hair from your forehead when Daryl pinned you to the wall. Your back was flush to his chest, and his breath was hot on your ear.

“Promise y’ain’t gonna fake it this time?” Daryl murmured through gritted teeth, one hand yanking your swimsuit bottoms to the side and the other pulling his own down his hips.

You gripped the side of the pool and cast a quick look to the kitchen. Carol was nowhere in sight, but who knew how much longer she—and everyone else—would be gone? You bit your lip when Daryl dragged the head of his cock between your legs.

“We can’t do this, Dar—”

“I said, are you gonna fake it? Pretty simple question.”

Your folds had already parted with his length in between them, hole pleading for his entry when all he had done was rut his hips in place and tease your slit. You pressed your ass right into him and tried hard not to whine as you sensed your cover could be blown at any moment. Daryl nipped at the skin behind your ear and repeated his question, this time enveloping your frame with his when he bent you over the side of the pool.

Your eyes flickered to the warm glow of the kitchen, and you felt the rain come down even harder—your vision, with the distance and the downpour, was almost totally obscured.

Fuck it.

“Promise I won’t— I swear.” Your voice now scarcely above a whisper.

That seemed to satisfy Daryl well enough. No more than a second later, he was plowing inside you, gripping your hip for support and your hand in his own for what seemed to be encouragement of sorts. You squeezed his fingers back as soon as the first influx of pleasure rolled through you.

“Quiet, quiet for me, baby,” Daryl warned close to your ear, gaze scanning the house for any new onlookers, “Jus’ stay. fuckin’. quiet.”

He wasted no time railing you from behind—an impressive feat for a man standing halfway underwater—and simultaneously kept a lookout for your friends inside. Before him, you’d folded like a lawn chair over the wet concrete, yielding to each thrust like you were born for this position and made to take his cock. Then your walls clenched around him, whimpers came loud and fast, and the rain beat a shrill cadence all around.

Daryl dropped a hand to your clit and smiled the second you whined and almost bucked him off. Finally, that sweet sensitivity was back.

He knew from two false starts and more hard edging than you ever would have liked to endure, you wouldn’t last long. You felt a pressure on your neck bringing you up to his chest and those same, ardent lips almost charring your skin when they pressed above your ear:

“Who’s a good girl?”

Another sharp thrust in your cunt.

“I am,” you cried, clawing at his wrist the second his fingers started tightening around your throat. Almost unable to bear it, but loving it all the same.

“Gonna be honest with daddy ‘bout those orgasms?” Daryl chided, “Make a mess of daddy’s cock like yer s’posed’a?”

You nodded as best you could with your throat trapped in his hold and your lips damn near turning blue the second he got to kissing them. Your back arched into his chest, and your body convulsed with pleasure the deeper he went. Daryl loved the way you watched him as he did.

That was what he’d missed. That was what he knew you couldn’t muster in your piss-poor performances of late, what had tipped him off to the truth of your euphoric state with times like today. This was what he needed to see every time he fucked you from now on—if he had to spend a lifetime or two trying to get you there, so be it.

Daryl caught your lips in a long, heated kiss before bottoming out inside you. The sharp nudge to your insides and the brush against your most delicate spot was more than enough to push you over the edge.

Bliss broke through your body like a bat out of hell, and your moans rang loud in Daryl’s mouth as he fucked you through it. And, sadistic motherfucker that he was, he actually smiled when your teeth sank through his lip and drew blood from the surface.

All he cared was that you came, no bullshit this time.

As a metallic tang and an ecstatic trance washed over you, your body went limp in Daryl’s arms. He pulled out, still hard, and rubbed a hand over your ass underwater.

You could feel him beaming with pride right behind you.

But, just when he moved to turn you around, a sight in the bushes sent your heart in your throat. One dark patch of foliage shook with unusual force a few yards away, and you heard some sticks break as someone, shielded by leaves, appeared to lose their balance.

Daryl’s grip on you locked, then tightened, then dropped altogether when a clumsy form came tumbling out.

“EUGENE!”

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon one shot #daryl dixon imagine #daryl x reader #the walking dead #twd daryl #twd fanfiction #twd imagine #smut

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auggieblogs · 5 months

Text

"I'm not even drunk" | OP81

Oscar Piastri x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of being drunk?

Author's note: Hiiii, beautiful people. I hope everyone is doing good. This one shot is inspired by a tiktok I watched recently. It was very cute and I hated it so much (I was jealous). Anyway, I hope you enjoy this. Happy reading:))

―୨୧⋆ ˚masterlist

It was your 21st birthday, and Las Vegas was the chosen destination for the celebration. Oscar, your boyfriend, planned the entire trip, determined to make it the most memorable birthday you'd ever experience. Initially hesitant about the idea, it took a considerable amount of persuasion, involving nearly the entire Formula 1 grid, especially Max, to get you on board. The Formula 1 drivers were on a break, and they were ready to party.

The night kicked off with Lando popping champagne during the cake-cutting ceremony. You were handed a glass, and with a cheeky grin, Lando said, "Cheers to being legal everywhere now! Except maybe on Mars." You felt the bubbles tickling your nose as you laughed with joy.

But then came the tequila shots with Max and Checo, and suddenly, sophistication was replaced with the burning sensation of regret and lime wedges.

By the end of the night, you were on a first-name basis with every type of alcohol, and Oscar gave you that "we're going to need a mop later" look.

Oscar, being the responsible partner he was, barely had a drink. He watched over you, wanting you to enjoy the night to the fullest.

As the night ramped up, you were on the verge of climbing onto the pool table, ready to deliver a speech that probably would've made Shakespeare question his career choices. Oscar intervened just in time, gently pulling you down with a, "Let's get back to the room, baby. I think you've had enough." You, however, were convinced the party had just begun. "No, Oscar, the night is still young," you slurred.

"But love, you'll be exhausted tomorrow, and the hangover won't be fun," Oscar reasoned, successfully convincing you to return to the hotel room.

Eventually, Oscar managed to coax you into a cab, where you continued to babble about how you weren't even drunk and thanking him for the incredible night. Your words were a bit of a jumble, but Oscar simply smiled, appreciating your genuine happiness. He sat next to you, nodding along with a patient smile, occasionally muttering an "Oh, really?" or a "That's amazing" to keep you going.

Upon reaching the hotel, you clung to Oscar like a drunken sloth. In the elevator, you gave him a squinty-eyed grin, saying, "I'm not even drunk, Oscar!"

He shot back, "Really? What's with the wobbly legs then?"

"You, baby," you replied with a wink, your laughter echoing off the elevator walls. Oscar just chuckled, probably wondering if he should get you a helmet.

Exiting the elevator, Oscar tried reasoning with you, "You're wasted, love." You straightened up with all the dignity of a penguin trying to impersonate a giraffe. "I'm as sober as a cat in a cucumber garden!"

Back in front of your hotel room, Oscar, in full dad mode, hands on hips, challenged you, "Prove it! Show me you're not drunk."

"Oh, I'll prove it," you announced, pulling out your phone to make a phone call to Lando. "He'll tell you I'm as sober as a... a really sober thing!"

When Lando answered, you shouted into the phone, "Lando, tell Oscar I'm not drunk!" Lando's laughter erupted from the speaker, "Yeah, you're definitely drunk, you muppet."

You rolled your eyes and handed the phone to Oscar, pouting, "He's the drunk one, not me!"

Determined to seal the deal, you declared, "I can tap dance to prove I'm not drunk!" And without waiting for a response, you started a wobbly tap dance routine in the hallway ( which was more like a human interpretation of a malfunctioning robot than a dance).

Oscar doubled over with laughter catching you just as you lost your balance. "Alright, alright, you've made your point!"

As you both stumbled into the hotel room, still giggling, you managed to blurt out, "Best birthday ever," before collapsing onto the bed. Oscar, smiling like a lovestruck puppy, joined you on the bed, engulfing you in the biggest bear hug and said "Happy birthday, love. You're never drinking again."

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norrisleclercf1 · 4 months

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Hiii! So I recently just found your blog (about a month ago) and I absolutely adore how you write! You know the body shot blurbs you did? Can you do one of Oscar Piastri please? I feel like he’d be even more blushy and flustered than Charles was 🤭

I know you said no continuing oneshots and I’m not too sure if you consider this one. I HOPE THIS ISNT CONSIDERED ANOTHER PART, BECAUSE IF SO, IGNORE THIS!

Anyways love you and hope you stay safe and well!! 🤍

A/N: It's New Years Eve and this is the perfect time to write this

If there was one thing Oscar didn't want to be doing, it would be standing in a club with the other drivers, their friends, and his best friend. New Years Eve and all Oscar wanted to do was to sleep and maybe a beer or two, instead he was watching you dance with Lando.

Thankfully he had no reason to feel jealous, you kept a clear and obvious distance between you two dancing and Logan was trying to explain the beer he wanted to the bartender. Oscar stood, leaning against the bar as he held your drink watching it closely.

He can see you tip your head back and see the familiar crinkles on your face as you laugh. Lando pulls you close and either whispers or yells something, the music was so loud Oscar could feel his brain move with each beat.

"Nevermind!" Oscar gets jostled out of his staring and turns to Logan who grumbles about beer and some language barrier. "Hey, you're burning a hole into her head." Logan pokes Oscar who hisses and goes back to watching you and Lando.

"I'm just making sure she's safe." Oscar mumbles, looking away when he sees Carlos join and your smile grows wider. "Ugh, you make me sick." Logan groans, tired of Oscar moping around. "She wouldn't go for me, she likes someone else." Logan closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Swear, alright you know what. Come here," Logan hauls Oscar up who almost drops your drink and Logan slaps his best friend hand forcing him to put it down. "Yo! Y/n!" Logan yells loudly getting your attention.

You wave off Lando and Carlos and run up giggling and fling yourself into Oscar's arms. Oscar smiles, pulling you close and fixing your hair, resisting the urge to kiss you. Logan fake gags at the two of you but waves over a waitress.

You giggle and move closer to Oscar. "Happy New Year." You tease, moving your hand up and down and his stomach as he helps you get your ground. "Y/n, love, you're a little drunk." He whispers stopping your wondering hand.

He was confused as to why you were being so touchy when Logan gets between you two. "Hey, let's do body shots!" He screams all your friends cheering as the do rounds of body shots.

You tighten your grip on Oscar, who leans against a table holding you close. No way in hell was he letting you do body shots, not in this state. He turned a sharp glare to Lando who he offered you to take one off him.

"Not a bad idea! Hey, Y/n. Why not do a body shot off Oscar instead?" Logan recommends, Oscar looks up shocked as Logan just smirks at his buddy. "Yeah! Oh, come on Oscar please, it'll be so much fun." You beg, jumping slightly as Logan wiggles his eyebrows.

"Please Osc?" Your nails scrap the back of his neck, close to hairline right where you have him weak in the knees. Oscar holds back a whimper, but his eyes get heavy, and he nods. "Mkay." You giggle at his response and drag him to the table, and stop.

"Come here baby boy, get up." You pat the table and Oscar turns bright red at your nickname for him. "Y/n," He whines, but you stick out your tongue and smirking. "Yeah, baby boy. Get up." Logan teases and Oscar scuffs yanking his shirt off.

He moves, laying down on the table and shivering from how cold the table is. "Here." Logan shoves a lime in Oscar's mouth and covers it stopping Oscar from spitting it out. You splash a little bit of vodka on his stomach and lick your lips.

God he was so good looking. Sprinkling the salt there you watch his stomach grow taunt and his eyes grow heavy at the feeling of your hands roaming over his body.

"Ready?" Logan asks, and you nod your head as everyone whoops in excitement. "Have been for a long time." You smirk and Oscar's eyes widen.

You waste no time and down the shot and slowly move up to the salt licking it as Oscar pushes his hips up and body starts to grow hot. Logan removes his hand quickly and you replace them with your mouth. Both your tongues moving quick and feverish, you pull away with the lime in your mouth.

Oscar lays there as you pull the lime out everyone cheering, he thumps his head against the table as he tries his best to calm down. Fuck, he was truly in love with you now.

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demonvibez · 9 months

Text

The Book Club

Characters: Satan x F! Reader ( x Asmo ) Rating: Mature [Minors DNI] Word Count: 2.5k+ Tags: smut, public sex, unprotected sex, cock warming, exhibitionism/voyeurism, masturbation, oral sex, threesome, cum in mouth + vagina, female body parts, they/them pronouns for reader, mam and levi are briefly in the story but are not involved in this smut (sry loves) A/N: just an idea that popped into my head and took off! also! highly recommmend the picture of dorian gray by oscar wilde. I haven't read it in forever so I'm gonna give it a reread, but you should check it out if you can. Anyways, pls enjoy ♡

It wasn't unusual for you and Satan to hang out in the House library and read together. Whether it was for educational purposes, or simply recreational, the two of you loved being in the library. So much so that, if his brothers needed to find one of you, they would often only need look in the there. Typically the two of you took to Satan's bedroom for your more intimate affairs, keeping your sexual adventures together private. This evening, however, you had something else in mind.

There you both sit on the plush purple couch, the fire roaring in front of you two. You sit perched in Satan's lap as he has one arm around your waist, the other hand holding his copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray for you to read aloud. A soft, fuzzy blanket is draped across the two of you, concealing the fact that Satan's throbbing cock is fully sheathed inside of your tight, wet pussy. The two of you wanted to relax while you read, and nothing is more relaxing to Satan than having his cock warmed by you while reading a nice book. Cuddling with you in his lap while your warmth squeezes around him, the fire crackling in the background with the gentle melody of your voice reading to him - Satan has never been to the Celestial Realm, but he'd be willing to argue that this is better. As you shift slightly in his lap to flip the page forward, Satan can't help but to let out a tiny groan, his cock twitching inside of you. You feel so good wrapped around him, it took every ounce of self restraint not to just throw the book down and fuck into you right now.

"Careful, kitten," he whispers in your ear, "if we get too heated, we may have to-" Just as Satan was finishing his sentence, the library doors burst open. In through the door Mammon comes rushing, already arguing with Leviathan and Asmodeus who are walking in behind him. Asmodeus is wearing an annoyed expression, clearly in disagreement with Mammon, while Leviathan seems barely interested and is playing his handheld console. You could feel Satan tense up beneath you - his lime green finger tips digging into your hip, his expression stoic and expressionless. You knew Satan well enough to know that this was the calm before the storm.

"Oi, human! I've been lookin' for ya! Settle this argument we're havin'," Mammon shouts as he approaches the two of you.

"Seriously, Mammon? You really think they're gonna approve of such a stupid scheme? You're such an idiot," says Asmodeus, rolling his eyes as he stands next to Mammon with a hand on his hip. Leviathan leans against one of the study tables, his eyes still focused on his game.

"Yeah, Mammon. They're not gonna tell you anything different from us," he says without looking up. Mammon has a betrayed look on his face, turning to plead his case to you. Before Mammon can even begin to explain, Satan interjects.

"Not even a single fucking word Mammon, the answer is no."

"LOL!"

"But ya didn't even-"

"I said no, Mammon. We don't want to fucking hear it. I've known you my entire life. I know the kinds of schemes you concoct, I know that you want to drag my human into it and ultimately leave them with the mess. I don't care what it is - the answer is NO." You could feel Satan's wrath building up from his side of the pact. The two of you were supposed to be having a nice, relaxing, intimate evening, and the last thing you wanted was for Satan to fly into a fit of rage. The situation needed to be diffused before it reached a flashing point, and there was no one better in all three realms to soothe the situation than you. You squeeze your walls around him, reminding him of the situation you are in. A small gasp escapes Satan's lips, a hint of surprise in his emerald green eyes. You move your hand to gently stroke his golden blonde hair, the wrath you felt building up starting to ease. Satan's eyes can't help but to flutter closed at all of the different sensations, and as you continue to stroke his hair, you turn to address Mammon and his other brothers.

"Hey! Whaddaya mean by your hum-"

"Mammon, sweetheart," you cut him off, "I know you probably think you have a good plan...but whatever it is, if this many people are telling you it's a bad idea, it probably is."

"But-"

"No buts. You know in the end you're just gonna get strung up from the ceiling again. Now, if you will excuse us, we were busy reading Oscar Wilde before the three of you interrupted," you said, turning your attention back to the book and ultimately trying to get your evening back on the rails. You feel Satan's cock twitch inside of you once again as you take the book from his hand, forcing you to bite your bottom lip.

"Tch, whatever. Who even cares, I've got tons of other ideas," Mammon says as he sulks his way out the library door. Leviathan pushes off the table, also making his exit as he simultaneously continues on with his current in-game mission. The only brother that still remains is Asmodeus. He remains stood across from the two of you, a hint of suspicion on his face as he watches you. Unbeknownst to you, he had been observing you both since he entered the room. The obvious lust lingering in the air upon his arrival, and again a few moments ago, had been enough to keep him curious about what you two are really up to. Folding his arms across his chest, Asmo is determined to get to the bottom of this.

"Reading...sure..." he says, an eyebrow raised, clearly implying that the two of you are hiding something.

"Clearly, we are reading. We're in the middle of The Picture of Dorian Gray, a novel you would probably do well to read. Now, I don't know what you think we're doing Asmo, but why don't yo-"

"You know exactly what I am implying, big brother," he remarks, a sinister smirk on his face. "Or have you forgotten I'm the Avatar of Lust?" At the mention of lust, Satan can feel you clench around him and hold on. His breathing hitches yet again, his heart racing right along with yours, at the prospect that Lust itself has caught you in the act. "Did you think you two could hide this from me? Such blatant lust right in front of me," he says in a lightly mocking tone. You look over to Satan to see his cheeks dusted with blush and his eyes avoiding the both of you. You can feel yourself dripping down his hard length in anticipation of what could possibly happen next - whatever it is, the haze of lust grows in your mind, and you're just hoping to get some relief. It's hard to even focus on what the two demons in the room are talking about when all you can think about is your growing desire to just start bouncing on Satan's cock. It's not like Asmo would care, right? So tempting...

Before you can even make a decision, Asmo steps forward and reaches down, pulling on the blanket covering the two of you. Satan tries holding on to it but Asmo uses all of his force to pull on it, ripping it away and exposing your little cock warming session.

"I fucking knew it," exclaims Asmodeus, clearly satisfied with the results of his query. He tosses the blanket down on the ground, then goes to sit in one of the reading chairs across from you, his eyes glowing pink and his sinister grin wide. "Oh, don't mind me. Our darling human clearly needs you more right now, dear brother~♡" As much as Satan wanted to protest, he'd have to punish his younger brother later. Neither of you have the resolve to hold back any longer, and if the Avatar of Lust insists on watching, then he better enjoy the damn show. You both knew waiting was apart of the fun of cock warming, but neither of you expected such an agonizing pleasure. You had been carefully rubbing your thighs together, trying to find a small bit of relief, while Satan quite literally bit his tongue to hold in the moans - that was, until, you two had been exposed. To hell with hiding; to hell with waiting. You place your arm on the back of the couch, pushing yourself up and sliding back down Satan's cock. Moans escape from both of your lips in unison, like music to Asmo's ears. He reaches down to undo his belt buckle, the sound of which causing Satan to open his eyes and shoot him an emerald death glare. You can't help but to let out a whine at Satan's lack of attention - you don't give a damn what Asmo is doing, you need Satan to fuck you into the couch, and you need him to do it now. Hearing you whine seemed to have done the trick, because the moment he looks at you and sees the desperate look in your eyes, he starts to thrust up into you.

"Finally," you sigh happily, relieved to finally be properly taking the cock you've been craving since he slid himself into you. As you bounce on Satan's lap, your eyes flutter closed, your hand clenching into the back of the couch as the other grips one of your breasts through your shirt. You open your eyes momentarily to see that Asmodeus has taken his cock out of his pants, and is now stroking it while watching the two of you over on the couch. 'Fuck,' you think to yourself, feeling yourself get even wetter at the sight. The pace of Satan's thrusts picks up as he reaches down in front of you to toy at your swollen clitoris, a jolt of pleasure being sent through your entire body at the moment of contact.

"Fuck...yes kitten, just like that. So good for me," Satan praises as he continues to fuck you towards your first orgasm. As Asmodeus watches the Avatar of Wrath pound into your needy hole, he did his best to match the pace of his brother's thrusts with his own hand. He'd love to be the one passionately fucking you right now, but he'll settle for watching you as long as you get pleasure. Lust being his sin, he is feeding off the two of you right now. Even if you were ordinary he'd be soaking it in - but you're his darling human and he is simply obsessed with your pleasure. You have no idea how gorgeous you look to him right now - how amazing you look when you wear his sin on your face, the gorgeous way your voice reverberates off the walls when you moan. You truly are a work of art ~ ♡

The three of you moan in harmony as you continue to make your way towards the peak of your first orgasm. Satan continues to pump into you at an unwavering pace as he massages your sex, and you can feel yourself finally being pushed over the edge of your first orgasm. A warm tingle spreads over your entire body, your moans becoming erratic and your eyes rolling into the back of your head as Satan continues on, overstimulating you in the best of ways. You ride the high of your climax until you come down, Satan slowing the pace of his thrusts to allow you to catch your breath.

A few moments later, you feel both of his hands clasp your hips, and suddenly he's bending you over the arm of the sofa. He begins driving his hips into you, hitting spots inside of you that no one else has before. He fucks into you at a steady pace, moans and whimpers spilling from your lips with each thrust, and in your mind's lustful haze you swear you can see fireworks. In the midst of it all, Asmodeus spots an opportunity for himself. With his own throbbing cock still in his hand, he stands up and makes his way over to your side of the couch. With his free hand, he cups your cheek, stroking your bottom lip with his thumb as he strokes himself.

"Darling, you look absolutely delectable. May I? Please~?" he asks as he puts the head of his cock near your mouth, looking down at you with pleading eyes. You nod and moan out a 'yes' before he slides himself into your mouth. A sigh of relief and an unrestrained moan fall from Asmo's lips as he feels your soft mouth around his hard shaft. The way Satan is pounding into you from behind creates enough momentum to fuck you onto Asmo's cock for him - all he has to do is watch, and he is simply entranced by you. He pushes your hair back out of your face, cupping the back of your head gently as he watches you. The way you're looking up at him as you suck his cock is enough to make him wanna bust alone, and that's without taking into consideration the way it feels when you moan against him.

Satan starts to pick up the pace, feeling his own climax starting to come close. He reaches down to massage your clit once again, his thrusts starting to become harder and more erratic. Your muffled moans grow louder, as does your orgasm once again, as the three of you frantically fuck each other, trying to get each other off. Satan can feel your walls begin to tighten around him, your orgasm being the first to hit it's peak.

"Fuck, yes kitten, cum all over my cock," he says as he pounds away at your increasingly tightening hole, his seed spilling into you after only a few more thrusts. As you moan all over Asmo's cock, he can't help but to thrust his hips into your face, his cum shooting down your throat as he gently moans your name. Asmo pulls out of you immediately after finishing, wiping your face with his thumb to clean up any stray. A few moments later, after catching his breath a little, Satan pulls out of you and quickly fixes his pants. He sits down on the couch and pulls you into his lap, not caring about anything leaking onto him. He wraps his arms around you and you both just sit together, continuing to catch your breaths. Asmodeus breaks the silence.

"I think I'll have to come to book club more often." The three of you erupt into exhausted laughter. Book Club may have to become a regular occurrence - in a more private meeting room, of course.

· demonvibez ♡ 2023 · do not copy, repost or modify · · likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated! ♡ ·

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nyoomfruits · 2 months

Note

for the ask meme: 5 + 68, landoscar!

THANK YOU TO @ocontraire FOR HELPING ME OUT WITH THIS ONE <3

bar/restaurant au + heroic sacrifice

It's the calm before the storm, that small moment right after family meal and right before their first reservations, tables all set and silverware shined. Lando's standing in front of the bar, double checking the reservations, while Oscar's behind it, cutting a lemon.

"How's the apartment coming along?" Lando asks, when he's made absolutely sure all reservations have a corresponding table. "Managed to find a couch yet?"

Oscar wrinkles his nose, tosses the ends of the lemons and sweeps the rest into an ingredient container next to the limes and the maraschino cherries. “Logan thought he found one but when we went to look at it,” he shudders. “There were stains, Lando. Stains. Questionable ones.”

“Oh, yikes.” Lando mimics a retching motion. “Well, have to keep looking then I guess.”

Oscar hums, grabs a glass and fills it with water, two ice cubes, and a singular slice of lemon, places it in the exact spot Lando always keeps his drink, hidden out of sight from the rest of the restaurant by the coffee machine. When Lando raises an eyebrow at him Oscar sighs, and adds a pink straw. “We were planning on doing a thrift store run on Sunday but Zak gave me the opening shift, so.”

Lando drops the pen he’d been fiddling with. “Zak did what?” He asks.

Oscar shrugs, a dismissive little motion that Lando learned long ago to not actually dismiss. “It’s fine, it’s just this once. Bella has this family thing, so.”

“No,” Lando says, “no, he can’t do that to you. You hate the morning shift.”

Oscar rolls his eyes. “We all have to do things we don’t like as much sometimes.”

“Yeah, but,” Lando frowns. “Last time it took you weeks to recover. Months! You do realize you have to get up at 7am right?”

Oscar looks at him, bemused. “Lando, seriously. I’m fine. And it wasn’t months. It was two days max. I’m just not a morning person, I’ll live.”

“No, no, no, do not worry. I will relieve you of your duties. I will fall on this sword for you. For you are my brother in arms and I have sworn to protect you with my life,” Lando’s reached over the bar to grab Oscar by the shoulders, and Oscar’s face is doing some kind of crossover between fond and exasperated.

“That’s sweet, Lando, really. But I’m fine.”

“For death,” Lando says, completely unfazed. “For glory. For brotherhood. Fear not, my beloved. I will save you from these atrocities.”

Oscar pinches the bridge of his nose. “We’re not even. I’m not your beloved, Lando.”

Lando perks up, smiles. “But you could be,” he says, winks.

“Sure,” Oscar says, dubiously. “Anyway, really, I’m fine. One morning shift won’t kill me.”

“No, no, no, let me do this for you. Just promise me one thing,” Lando says, still dead serious. “If you have children someday, if they point to the pictures, please tell them my name. Tell ‘em how the crowds went wild. Tell ‘em how I hope they shine.”

“Okay, now you’re just quoting Taylor Swift at me,” Oscar says throwing up his hands, making Lando’s hands drop off his shoulders.

Lando pouts at him. Oscar frowns. Lando pouts harder. “Fine,” Oscar relents, shoulders sagging. “Fine you can have your weird heroic sacrifice or whatever you want to call it. Take my Sunday morning shift.”

“Yay,” Lando says, beaming brightly. “Think of me, when the sun falls behind the heavens. I’ll go tell Zak.”

“Your sacrifice is greatly appreciated, you absolute dumbass,” Oscar drawls after him, as Lando skips off in search of Zak. With his back turned, Lando misses the ridiculously fond, endeared smile Oscar sends after him.

#landoscar #twinklaren #mctwinks #drabble

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