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#they were SO close to kissing......................................................................
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Together
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cntloup · 2 days
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Can you do a Simon one shot with like innocent reader an he's inspecting her pussy while she's reading, based off of something u wrote before
It's a routine at this point. He's obsessed.
Whenever you sit to read, he opens your legs and sits between them.
"What are you doing, Si?" you ask innocently. "Shh, just let me play with it, yeah?... so pretty" he coos in awe.
You blush and start closing your legs which he stops by putting his hands over your thighs, "No need to be shy, baby. It's just me."
He kisses your clit, rolling his tongue around the sensitive nub and lapping at it until your arousal gushes out of you and you're soaking wet.
The pad of his finger gathers your slick and he licks it clean, moaning at your sweet taste.
His index finger circles around your labia, smearing your slick until it's glistening.
Soft whimpers and gasps seep through your lips as his calloused fingers rub along your folds, parting them slightly and his tongue laps and slurps between them.
"Feels good?" he asks as he flattens two of his fingers on your folds and the length of his fingers caress your labia so deliciously, it makes your mouth water, "hmmm feels so good, Si." you hum contently.
He smiles at your pliancy, your softness and obedience, and trusting him with your body like this, so vulnerable, "Such a good girl f'me, baby." he praises.
His touch is so soft and languid so as not to get you too worked up. And it's surprisingly comforting. And it starts to make you feel drowsy until you can’t focus on the words you're reading anymore.
"Siii..." you whine followed by a yawn, "Yes baby?" he asks as he goes on rubbing your folds and stroking your clit with the pad of his thumb.
"Need t'sleep." you mumble as your eyes get droopy.
And he carries you and lays you down on the bed, "You can do what you were doing while I sleep. Feels so good." you mention with a sleepy smile.
And he spreads your legs and hovers above you, tenderly touching your pussy and kissing you until you fall asleep.
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uluvjay · 3 days
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Hands to yourself - L. Norris
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Lando Norris x fem! Reader
In which I said i would write riding lando in his Miura so here it is :)
Warnings?; Smut, car sex, pretty much public sex, unprotected sex( a big no no), cursing, kissing, breasts play, light fingering, sorry for any errors I missed!
You knew you were a goner the second he pulled up outside of the restaurant dressed head to toe in black, his new monster had sat on his head, playboy hoodie covering his upper half, while he wore cozy joggers.
You had already seen the videos circulating while you were at dinner with friends and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t already feel wetness forming between your legs before he even picked you up.
That’s how you ended up in an empty private car park, your dressed pushed up around your hips as you bounced on his cock in the driver’s seat of his vintage Lamborghini.
“Fuck lan.” You cried head tucking into the crook of his neck, hips rocking back and forth as pleasure filled your body.
His large hands gripped your ass tightly, kneding the flesh as you continued your movements on top of him. The little grunts and moans escaping his mouth cause your cunt to get even wetter around him, his cock getting slicker and slicker with each bounce.
Lando grunts at the feeling of your breasts rubbing against his firm chest, taking note that you aren’t wearing a bra under your dress he pulls the top down exposing the bare skin to him.
His lips wrap around your left bud, tongue flicking against it while his teeth nip at it lightly, drawing whimpers from your throat at the added sensation.
“Taking my cock so well baby.” He cooed as he switched to your other nipple, one of his large hands moving up to roll the other between his fingertips.
You panted above him, legs slowly growing tired as you continued to fuck yourself on him, his thick cock hitting that spot deep inside you on every bounce.
Lando growled deeply as he felt his climax approaching, dipping a hand between the two of you brought his fingers to rub at the sensitive bud between your thighs.
“mmf-lando!” You cried out, the mixture of his thick cock and fingers sending your body into pure ecstasy as the band in your lower stomach had finally snapped.
“That’s it baby, come for me. Come for me like the good girl you are.” He praised smirking at the way your thighs were shaking violently around him.
He took control after that, hands holding onto your hips so tight you knew there would be bruises tomorrow as he thrusted up into you.
A squeal of overstimulation breaking free from you as his cock pounded into you at an ungodly speed, hitting all the right spots as he chased a high of his own.
“Fuck, I’m gonna come, gonna fill you to the brim baby, fuck you nice and full.” The Brit rambled.
You couldn’t find it in yourself to reply, to overwhelmed by the feeling of him fucking you so deep, having his warm body so close to yours, breasts rubbing against the cotton of his hoodie every time he thrusted inside of you.
You could feel his hips stuttering as he came, a deep growl filling the car as his head dropped back against the leather head rest. His hips thrusted a few more times before finally stilling, keeping himself buried inside you as he pulled you from his neck and placed a searing kiss on your lips.
“mm, fuck that was good.” He smirked, green eyes locked on your blown out ones.
You giggled as his words before giving him one more peck and lifting yourself off of his softening cock, whining as he slid out.
Situating yourselves you both fixed your clothes and messy appearances, you could feel his eyes boring into the side of your head as you used your camera to show you where all your smudged makeup was.
“Baby?” He called softly.
“Yeah?”
“What got you so worked up that you couldn’t wait till we got home?” He smirked, eyes taking in the foggy windows of his car.
“I-I’m not even really sure..I think it was a combination of the outfit and car, this one is one of my favorites and we haven’t had a car sex moment in a while.” You shrugged cheeks turning scarlet.
“Just couldn’t keep your hands to yourself huh?”
“No, I truly couldn’t.” You smiled bashfully as you leaned forward and gave him one more kiss before rolling your window down.
“Now let’s get home so we can continue this In the shower.”
“Yes ma’am.” He laughed before restarting the engine and pulling off.
-
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slvttyplum · 2 days
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shoko loved rubbing her pussy on yours, the tingles she got from it sent her and you over the moon. it's like little warm raindrops were sliding down her body from the stimulation she got from it.
positioning can be hard, but she makes it work every single time. having you lay down and put your leg over hers while she slides her legs over hers, making both your cunts kiss. it felt so good she could barely describe it in words.
“baby don't be shy, let loose.” and that you did, gripping her thigh for stability as you slowly grind against her wet pussy, a light moan sliding out her mouth as you start to grind harder, your lips opening and your clit touching hers.
shoko would say that this was better than her eating you out, but it wasn't, it was a close second though. the way your body moved against hers and moans slid out of your mouth as the pleasure started to overwhelm, it made her so turned on.
memories of her first teaching you how to grind against her to feel good, you came such a long way that you didn't need instructions on how to grind against her to feel the stimulation, you were doing it all on your own with no help.
the fuzzy feeling you got, along with the deep out of pleasure boiling in the lower part of your stomach, was evidence enough that you knew what you were doing. the fact that you took control on grinding against her and making both your pussies drip was a feeling that couldn't be described even if the both of you tried.
pushing her onto her back and climbing on top of her, pushing her legs back and sliding your slick pussy against hers, it felt so fucking good that shoko couldn't stop moaning.
lumps getting caught in her throat as you slid your hands over her chest and breasts, her eyes flickering as she tries to keep them open to watch your every move, you were intoxicating, she just wanted more of you, and that's what you gave her.
“good girl, just like that.” her praises falling into your ear as she watches you push against her cunt with yours, making your clits kiss, it was a warm feeling that was closing in between both your bodies.
this is why she loved this so much, the intimacy between the both of you never left, never for a moment, it only got more intense when she kissed your soft lips as the both of you reached your orgasms.
“i need more of you.”
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sturnioz · 3 days
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‘DRIVERS PLEASURE’ — MATTHEW STURNIOLO
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pairing. matthew sturniolo x fem!reader genre. smut
word count. 2.2k
❝do you want me to help you with that?❞
content warnings. established relationship, explicit content, car head, oral (m receiving), blowjob, handjob, small mention of spitting, mention of hair pulling, possible exhibitionism,
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You sigh softly as you glance at your reflection in the sun visor mirror of your boyfriends car, fingertips grazing the corner of your lips, erasing any excess lipstick that may have smeared during the ride and that your mascara hasn’t left any smudges on your eyelids.
You rushed when Matt had suddenly asked you out on a last-minute date and you were more than desperate to see him, having not been alone with him for a long period of time due to his busy schedule.
You had rapidly searched around your bedroom for the most suitable and clean clothing you could find, and hastily applied your makeup, your eagerness to finally see him overshadowed any concerns about your appearance until you you were parked outside the restaurant with just a few minutes remaining before you had to make it inside for your dinner reservation.
“What are you doing?”
“Making sure I look okay,” You tell him, adjusting the strands of hair framing your face. Your shoulders slump in defeat as you continue, “I don’t feel okay.”
Matt raises his eyebrow as he asks, “Why?”
“I rushed to get ready before you picked me up, so my makeup is all messy, and my outfit looks silly, and—”
“No, it doesn’t,” Matt interrupts your rambling, a gentle smile creeping onto his face as he gazes at you from the driver's seat. “I think you look pretty. Really pretty,” You side eye him sceptically, but Matt chuckles, his teeth gently biting down on his bottom lip as he widens his smile. “No, seriously, I mean it… you look beautiful.”
Your head turns towards him and your heart swells at his compliment. The adoration and affection reflected in Matt’s eyes is enough to make you a little overwhelmed and without hesitation, you lean over the console and cup his face, pressing your lips against his.
Matt’s surprised exclamation is muffled by the kiss, caught off guard as he didn’t expect you to kiss him so suddenly, but he allows himself to melt into your touch. His eyelashes flutter against his cheeks as he closes his eyes, tilting his head to deepen the kiss with more love and urgency. 
Every kiss you share with Matt feels like the first, sweet and tender. His lips on yours leaves you feeling dizzy as if you’re intoxicated, and you yearn for more, yet it never escalates beyond heavy make-out sessions with wandering hands that fail to explore beneath the clothes. 
Surprisingly, you don’t really mind. You didn’t want to push or rush into something that might ruin what you have with Matt. The relationship is still new, having only become official a few weeks ago, so there’s no need to rush into anything… However, there are moments when you crave for him. Badly. 
As always, you’re the one to break away from the kiss and an amused chuckle leaves you as Matt follows your lips, his own still puckered and waiting for you to return. Giving him one quick kiss, you suggest that it’s probably best for you both to go wait inside, unfastening your seatbelt and preparing to leave until Matt’s voice echoes throughout the vehicle. 
“Wait!”
His raised tone startles you and you jump as his hand extends out, firmly grasping your wrist to prevent you from opening the car door. Your movements freeze, and you gaze at him with concern swimming in your eyes, unsure of what’s happening and why he’s reacting in such a certain way.
You notice the pink hue tinting his cheeks and the flush that spreads across his neck, chest rising and falling rapidly with each heavy breath he takes. His mouth opens and closes like a fish out of what, and under different circumstances, the sight would’ve been hilarious. However, you were too worried about his sudden outburst to laugh.
Matt struggles to form a coherent sentence, and the grip his fingers have on your wrist tightens as he lowers his head to look down at his lap. Your gaze follows, and your eyes widen when you see the obvious tent in his pants.
Your hand rips free out of Matt’s grip as you slap it over your mouth, trying to stifle your laughter which makes Matt’s cheeks grow even more red.
“Wa—wait, I just—It’s like—” Matt stammers, his hands flailing in the air in a panicked manner before he hastily grabs the hem of his shirt, tugging it down to cover the bulge, avoiding direct eye contact with you. “Shut up. Stop. I have no control over that—”
“Matt, it’s okay.” You reassure him as your hand drops from your mouth, unable to hide the smile on your face. Truthfully, you’re a little flattered that a simple kiss can make Matt react like that. It boosts your ego immensely, and the thoughts that run through your mind are wild.
He continues to act embarrassed, tugging his shirt down further to hide himself but the friction of the shirt rubbing over the material of his jeans makes him tense up, eyes widening as a stifled grunt seeps past his lips. 
“Matt…” You call out his name and his head turns to finally meet your eyes. You feel confident, maybe too confident as you say your next words, “Do you want me to help you?"
“Help me?” He repeats, blinking at you. “What do you—Oh. Wait. No. I swear, it’s fine. Just give me a few minutes and it’ll—oh shit.”
Matt curses, hissing through his teeth as you decide to bravely place your hand on his upper thigh, squeezing the skin beneath your fingers as you lean in closer to him, the centre console digging into the stomach. His gaze flicks between your hand and you advancing towards him, unsure on where to look until your nose is barely brushing against his own.
He swallows thickly at that look on your face, silently asking him the same question again and he struggles to find his voice, bobbing his head slowly in a short nod. He lets go of his shirt, dropping his hands to his side limply as he watches you work the button of his jeans, popping them open and pulling down the zipper before your hand dips beneath the waistband, cupping his through his boxers.
Matt exhales deeply, body relaxing into the driver's seat as he observes your actions with half-lidded eyes, bottom lip tucked between his teeth and fists clenching at his side.
You’re giddy as you free his cock from his boxers, the sheer size of them sending a thrilling buzz to your cunt and you meet his eyes with a surprised grin.
“What?” His voice is quiet as he questions, “What’s wrong?”
“You’re big, Matt.”
Matt’s tongue prods at his cheek, trying to fight off the urge to smile at your compliment as his chin tucks into his chest, unable to look you in the eyes. His cheeks grow warm with a slight pink hue, but his mouth drops open with a sharp intake of breath as you slowly wrap your fingers around him the best you can. 
Your lips hover above his cock, letting a wad of spit sit at the tip and using your thumb to smear it over the slit and head of his cock, causing his hips to jerk upwards.
The sound of him whispering curses through airy gasps and grunts is enough to urge you downwards, taking his tip into your mouth, letting it lay on your tongue for an experimental taste before pushing your head further down, taking his cock into your throat and swallowing around him.
“Oh my go—fuck.” Matt suddenly whimpers loudly, pressing his fist to his mouth and biting down on his skin, nervous eyes glancing around the restaurant's parking lot to see if anyone was lingering around outside.
He was thankful to have brought you both out near nightfall, but he was even more thankful that he had decided to park a few spaces away from the building itself, tucked away beneath a tree and barely any street lights
You struggle not to smile at the effect you have on him as your bob your head, exaggeratingly moaning to send vibrations down his cock and again, his hips jerk upwards at the sensation, and a guttural sound rips from the back of your throat as he accidentally chokes you with his sudden movements. 
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry—” He repeatedly apologises to you, his hand coming down to affectionately smooth the back of your head, ringed fingers getting tangled in your hair and he tugs without realising when you hollow your cheeks around him, the burn on your scalp sending a shiver down your spine.
“Does it feel good?” You ask him once you take your mouth off of him to breathe, using your hand to continue jerking him off as you gaze up at him.
Matt struggles to keep his eyes open as he nods, untangling his fingers out of his hair to press his palm on your cheek, putting at your bottom lip and you lay a gentle kiss on the pad of his thumb.
Matt smiles giddily at that, head lolling to the side and resting against the fogged up windows, breathing unsteady as he continues watching.
It completely erased from your mind that you’re currently giving Matt head in a public parking lot until you hear a distant car horn in the background, and usually, under any different circumstance, you would have stopped everything and asked to be driven away out of pure embarrassment from possibly getting caught.
But seeing the blissful look on Matt’s face, and how strangely nice it feels to have him in your throat, tasting him on your tongue, you don’t care. 
You almost wouldn’t mind if anyone walked by and caught the two of you in this position. 
“I think I’m gonna cum soon,” Matt breathes out heavily before his eyes widen. “Yeah, no—shit—you’re definitely gonna make me cum.”
“That’s okay.” You coo softly, giving him the sweetest smile before you swallow around him once again, tightening your throat around his cock and he grunts, his hand resuming its position on the top of your head again.
“Where do you want me to cum, sweetheart?” The pet name sends you spiralling and your cunt clenches around nothing, arousal building in the pit of your stomach. 
You move your head faster, working at a pace that has his thighs shaking. His cock fucks your throat raw and you can breifly hear him calling out your name, tugging at your hair slightly to get your attention and pull you off of him, but you resist and shove your head down further, the tip of your nose touching his navel.
“Fuck… do you want me to cum in your mouth?”
You hum around him for confirmation and Matt whines under his breath, voicing ‘you’re so hot’ as his hand falls from the top of your head to your free hand that’s resting on his knee for balance. 
His fingers thread through your own, intertwining them tightly, thumb caressing over your knuckles in small circles, and the second you squeeze his hand back, to let him know that you’ve got him, he cums in thick spurts down your throat with a moan.
Matt’s thighs trembling beneath you, but you take no notice, too busy making sure you’ve swallowed every drop he’s giving you, sucking him dry until he’s physically unable to give you anymore and is begging for you to release him, too sensitive to continue.
His cock falls from your mouth with a wet plop and you sit up in your seat, taking a quick glance in the sun visor mirror like you had done earlier before, and you stifle a laugh at how you’ve definitely ruined your makeup this time.
You reach for your purse and open it up, grabbing a few facial makeup wipes that you carry with you and try to clean yourself up as best as you possibly can, even though there was no use. 
Matt is panting heavily beside you, body twitching as he comes down from his high and he runs his fingers through his hair as he tries to regulate his breathing before he’s tucking his flaccid cock back into his boxers.
He’s buttoning up his jeans, casting you a glance as he pulls up the zipper, watching as you finish completely wiping the smudged lipstick off of your lips and dabbing the mascara excess under your eyes.
“I think we missed our dinner reservation by the way,” You joke, a chuckle leaving your lips as you grab your phone to check the time. You did miss it. “Sorry.”
“That’s a shame,” Matt says, his voice dipping low. “I’m still hungry.”
You feel a little guilty, “We can go get takeout—”
“No. Not for that,” Matt immediately shakes his head and you turn to look at him. “I’m hungry for something else. Something better.”
“Better?” You repeat, raising your eyebrow suggestively as you lean back into your seat, crossing your arms over your chest as the corner of your lips threaten to curl up into a smirk. “And what would that be?”
“You.”
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© sturnioz
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luveline · 2 days
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if you are looking for spencer and bombshell requests, what about the first time a girl flirts with spencer after they start dating, but bombshell is fully secure because she knows her worth and understands that he’s a catch? if you need more ideas i can squeeze my brain really hard
love ur brain pls keep squeezing it <3 fem!reader
You’re the cheesy girlfriend no one expects you to be. You change your phone contact for Spencer to ‘My Sweet Boyfriend’ with a heart, you hold his hand in stupid places (though you’d done that before, sometimes), you bring him coffee, you fluster when he kisses your cheek no matter your disposition —you're overwhelmed in the honeymoon phase, and everybody’s surprised. 
“That’s not very cool of you,” Morgan says, having noticed your ducked head, your smile dripping with a private pleasure and your cheek still shining with Spencer’s quick kiss. He’s gone to find plastic cutlery. 
“I’m not that cool when it comes to Spencer,” you say. 
“I can’t believe what I’m hearing.” 
Morgan is as pleased for you both finally getting together as anyone, even if he finds it foreign. It is weird to suddenly be openly in love with each other, and likely stranger for the team to see you in anything that isn’t total calm collection. 
“He’s so lovely.” 
“Yeah, I know,” Morgan says, more earnest now as he slaps a rolled sandwich down in front of you. “He’s a catch. I asked for no mayonnaise, was I supposed to do that?” 
Emily tucks her seat in next to yours. “He’s totally trapped by that secretary again, I hate to tell you.” 
You turn around. 
“Why would you tell her that?” Morgan asks. 
“What?” 
You peer out of the office door, where Spencer’s being chatted to by a stunningly attractive secretary. She has dark skin and darker hair, alluring almond eyes that light her sweetheart face with a bright charm. “Oh, she’s getting prettier,” you say. 
You’ve got Spencer Reid locked in. Nothing in you doubts that he’s currently infatuated with you. You don’t even care when he laughs at her joke, or when she dips her head bashfully toward him. 
“You better go and get your man,” Morgan says. 
“What for?” 
“She’s flirting hard,” JJ says. She’s only just looked up from her phone. “He’s gonna start blushing.” 
As if. You turn back to the table, unwrapping the paper from your sandwich with a happy sigh. Spencer looks so cute when he blushes, his cheeks turn pink and he smiles like he’s being tickled, it’s adorable. If that pretty secretary wants to do the hard work for you, it’s her prerogative. He’s your boyfriend. 
“I don’t need to do anything, he’s fine,” you say. 
You’re cutting your sandwich in half when you feel a presence behind your back. A familiar hand closes around your shoulder, a voice in your ear, “Thanks for nothing.” 
You giggle at his embarrassed tone, turning your face up to his, immediately delighted by his pink-tinged cheeks and neck. “You looked like you were having fun!” 
“You’re not gonna pretend to be mad?” he asks, leaning over you to open your sandwich. He pulls out a sad looking tomato and a similarly wilted slice of lettuce and closes it again. “Did you want a drink? I can’t believe you.” 
“Spencer, did you want me to come and get you?” you tease. 
“It would’ve been nice of you. Drink?” 
You laugh again, tugging him down by the wrist. “No, Spencer, I don’t want a drink, just sit down. What was I supposed to do? I’m not gonna pull her off of you.” 
“But why?” he asks, nearly not quite pouting. “She asked me if it was too hot in here for me.” He sits in the chair beside you, his hand dropping to the soft inside of your thigh as he leans in imploringly. “If you cared about me at all–”
Everybody laughs, including yourself. He’s clearly joking, and for once nobody on the team mistakes it for ineptitude, which seems to cheer him up. He gives your leg a rather bold squeeze considering who he is and where you are, and again when you gesture for him to lift his face to plant a kiss on the ridge of his jaw. “I do care about you, Spencer. Sorry I wasn’t jealous. Should we try again?” 
He turns your face away from your coworkers, eye to eye. “You’re making fun of me.” 
His hand trails to your elbow. “No,” you say, your skin tingling under his touch. 
“I don’t believe you. And I know you need a drink, they didn’t send your bottle of water. I didn’t manage to find those forks, either.” 
He gets up again. He hasn’t so much as glanced at his own food, patting your back in a promise that he’ll return before he edges out of the office and into the station’s bullpen. You take a smug bite of your sandwich. You can’t hide it.
“Told you,” you say once you’ve swallowed. You hadn’t needed to do anything, and you really aren’t worried about other women. “He likes me a lot.” 
“Understatement of the year.” 
You send Morgan a loving smile. When you glance over your shoulder, Spencer’s taking the long way through the office to the water cooler.
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shotmrmiller · 3 days
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need simon to be retired and living in the middle of nowhere with a car-fixing hobby, and you're pulling into his 'shop' because you were road-tripping across the country and now some funky noises are happening underneath the hood.
you tentatively walk towards the open garage, only to spot him under some run-down vehicle that has more rust than sun-faded paint, deflated tires, and a license plate that's also got rust gnawing at the edges, the numbers on it barely discernable.
you rap your knuckles gently on the weathered car, and the wheels of the creeper he's on squeak in protest under him as he rolls out to look at you, filthy gloves smearing the dust on his brow instead of wiping it away.
"err, hi. uh, i was pointed this way by some lovely folk that work in that diner down the way, and they said that you could take a look at my car."
he rises smoothly, even though his joints pop as he does, dark eyes squinting against the sun. he towers over you with broad shoulders and thick arms. a tough-as-teak country man.
you start when he speaks, deep voice echoing off of dusty walls. "they said tha', did they?" he lifts the hem of his grease-stained wife beater to wipe at the beads of sweat on his forehead, and your gaze involuntarily wanders to the thick trail of coarse, dark hair under his navel.
"what's wrong with it?"
if you knew that, you wouldn't be here, blatantly ogling him in some decrepit workshop located in a sleepy corner of the countryside. "i don't know. it's making some scary popping noises and figured that it needed to be looked at, asap."
your grimace is involuntary when he extends an oil-streaked gloved hand. you really hope he's not expecting you to-
"keys."
right. you wordlessly hand them over and walk a few steps behind him as he heads toward the front of your car. "did ya get it looked at before your trip?"
you want to snap at him, that obviously you did. you may not be some car wizard, however, you can do the bare minimum for it but he's your only hope for getting the hell out of here, so you press your tongue against the back of your teeth for a moment before answering.
"yes. i did prepare for it. got new tires, an oil change, and anything else it may have needed."
he hums at your answer, a low sound in the back of his throat, and curls his fingers under the hood and begins to feel for the release. your mind is in the gutter as your eyes linger on his sun-kissed skin, watching the tendons on his inked forearm ripple with each movement.
your mind is snapped back to reality when he mutters, "i hope ya don't think i'm doin' this for free."
"wouldn't dream of it. you don't seem the charitable type."
the latch yields under his fingertips, and the hood springs open. "i'd say i'm pretty charitable, considerin' i'm even helpin' ya with this."
your eyebrows furrow, corners of your lips pulling downward. "what, were you closed or something?"
he gives you a small smirk while his hand searches for the prop rod inside the engine bay. "do i look like a business, sweetheart?"
embarrassment burns your cheeks, and your mouth gapes unprettily as you turn around to truly take in the place. past the grease-smeared floors, there's rust blooming on the only workbench in the garage, a single red toolbox resting on the ground. there's a car jack tossed in a corner, a vibrant blue cooler by the door, and a few firearms on pegboard shelves. it looks like a simple garage. a personal one.
"oh my god," you stammer, "i'm so sorry, i just- the townsfolk, they led me to believe that you're a mechanic." how bloody mortifying.
he ducks his head under the hood, bending at the waist to lean over the engine, eyes swiftly scanning the machinery. "it's a hobby. i fix my own vehicles... and now yours, i reckon."
eventually, he turns the car on and listens to the engine roar to life before it begins to pop, standing over the open hood with thinned lips and furrowed brows.
he tells you that he can fix it, it'll just take a bit for the part to get here, obviously, so he recommends staying at a rented cabin in town for a few days— maybe even a week— and he'll give you a ride over.
he gets you there in no time, unsurprising because he drove the motorcycle far too fast— illegal, really. he helps you off the bike, your clammy hand in his much bigger, roughened one.
you rip off his helmet, pushing it into his barrel chest. "please never drive me around that fast again." he gives you a couple of pats to the shoulder, chuckling under his breath.
"unless you're plannin' on walkin' to get your car back, i can't promise tha'."
grrrreat.
(the issue was the serpentine belt, it was slightly frayed but the man kept you around for 2.5 weeks under the excuse of something taking too long, or the car being under worse condition. maybe he charges you a kidney for fixing it, and since you can't obviously pay that ridiculous amt of money, he tells you to go on a date with him. gross. or maybe he's a sane man and he just sends you on your way in 2 days time. idk. installs a gps in your car? keepin' tabs on ya cuz he plans on passing by wherever you live by complete coincidence.)
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wysteria-bloom · 2 days
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⚝ " i'll never smile again "
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The hazbin boys are visibly stressed
Warnings : I used female pronouns. There are mentions of Valentino. Highly suggestive in Vox's part because yeah it makes sense. Alastor offers to go on a murderous rampage with the reader 🥰
Genre : Fluff, suggestive
A/n : I hate the people in my life and they stress me tf out so I'm writing to vent my frustrations out. :) I only included my favs in this one but if you would like a part two with other characters then say the word.
Characters : Alastor, Vox, Lucifer
▢ vox ᯤ
- Offering sexual favours -
Vox growled to himself gently as he typed away at the screen in front of him, eyes honing in obsessively on the words and news articles.
He was on media control right now because fucking Val blew up on Angel in public today.
Now he's forced to get rid of every media that is sculpting Valentino out to be the bad guy.
Whoopee fucking doo.
"Fuckin' Val... stupid idiot.... stupidly hot idiot." He sighed out, running his hands down his face tiredly then his eyes widened with an idea,"... Where's my assistant."
"Here, sir."
"Fuckin' christ-!" He yelped out at the sudden voice and he spun around quickly in his chair, coming face to face with her amused little shit-eating grin. He glared, scowl on his lips," You been there the whole time?"
"Yes, sir." She nodded, hands folded in her lap modestly.
"You're a little creep, y'know that?"
"Yes, sir."
He sighed and rolled his shoulders, wincing at the painful cracks that resounded from them," You seen the media?"
She nodded," yes, quite the 'clusterfuck' as you would put it."
His lip twitched in amusement," perfect descriptor, honestly." He then clicked his fingers at the screen," Is Troy on today? Tell him to deal with the rest of the articles pl-"
"It's Troy's day off today, sir." (Name) interrupted, walking so she was standing next to him, she leaned over him a little to click away at the tabs he had opened," But I will call him to come in. You need rest." She replied promptly.
Vox watched her with an almost sleepy look in his eyes, watching her close down the articles with quick and manicured claws.
"What would I do without you, eh?" He hummed out.
A chuckle flitted from her lips and he found himself entranced by the sound of it," I think you'd do well for yourself without me, sir." She reassured with a gentle voice and stepped away from the desk a little, turning to face him," would you like me to accompany you to your room?"
He blinked and then smirked," how forward of you, sweetheart." He cooed out with that sultry tone of his," Take me out to dinner first, yeah?"
She tilted her head to the side with an owlish blink,"... Would you like to go to dinner? Would that be a better form of stress relief for you that the first option?"
His mouth fell open with a shocked look as he stared at her, a little buffering symbol in the top right corner of his screen for a moment before it disappeared, a dark blush appearing on his face," f-fuck wait... w-were you suggesting we..."
"We have sex? Yes. I hear it's a rather fantastic way of stress relief and you are a rather sexually frustrated individual so it would-"
He place a hand over her mouth as he stood from his chair, basically towering over her.
There was a hungry look in his eyes as he let that charming grin twitch onto his lips," You're about the best damn fuckin' assistant I've ever had."
She smiled beneath his hand and grabbed onto his wrist gently, maneuvering it so she could place an oh-so-gentle kiss to his wrist whilst looking into his eyes," I'm honoured, sir." She hummed out in a sultry fashion.
Vox gulped, his self-control snapping, red leaking from his mouth," I'm gonna fuck the shit outta you."
"I wouldn't have it any other way, sir."
▢ alastor ⍋
- Expressing your issues over a glass of giggle juice -
A sigh and a huff fell from her lips as she made her way into the hotel lobby, shoulders sagging from a long day of work.
There seemed to be nobody in the lobby as she walked over to the bar and poured herself out a glass of whiskey.
"Late-night drinking? That's not like you." The familiar static of Alastor graced her ears.
(Name) blinked and looked over to him, noticing how tensed his smile seemed. His eyes looked... genuinely exhausted. His ears flopped downwards ever so slightly.
"Looks like you should be joining me," She hummed back and grabbed another glass, wiggling it at him suggestively.
He watched it for a second before relaxing and grabbing it, sitting next to her at the bar and pouring the liquid. He took a sip with her and his smile seemed to curl in a more soft way now.
"Hm, I dare say my dear, that does just hit the spot doesn't it?" He hummed out, a more relaxed expression on his face.
"You can say that again. No wonder Husk is an alcoholic, I understand the appeal after having an awful day." She replied with a nod of agreement," yknow, sometimes I wish Hell was just a personal purgatory instead of me having to deal with other people's shit."
"Agreed. It gets tiring, doesn't it? Makes you want to go a little batshit insane, yes?" He said this with a polite tone of voice, ears perked up.
"I want to go on a murderous rampage every second of every day."
"We could join forces if it ever came to that. We would kill twice the amount of demons."
She grinned at him," how flattering. You'd go on a murder spree with me, Al?"
He pressed a hand to his heart to express his genuine sincerity," Dear, if I ever say no to a question like that then I give you my full and utter permission to kill me in the most brutal way you can think of." He replied honestly, and (name) didn't know whether to be flattered or concerned but she found herself laughing along anyways.
"What a charmer," She grinned at him brightly," You can be so romantic when you want to, hm?"
"Romance has nothing to do with it. It is merely etiquette." He tilted his head at her, resting it in the palm of his hand, expression seemingly brightened from just a conversation with her," what's got you so downtrodden?"
She deflated a little, smile tired," Overworked and under-appreciated for the work I do." She replied simply, taking a sip of her whiskey," I'll never smile again~" She sang sadly.
Alastor perked up at the familiar song," until I smile at youuu~" he serenaded, smile only widening at the sound of her amused laughter.
Then he looked her over, an almost disappointed glint in his eyes," I still wonder why you work for that insolent shitbox after all these years." His smile seemed to sharpen at the thought of Vox," He doesn't deserve you at all. Not a single bit."
(Name) shrugged," I'm helpless, what can I say?"
"You're not. You're a strong woman, (name). Stand up for yourself. And if you can't stand?" His eyes glowed sinisterly," Break his legs off so you can."
She stared on for a second before raising her glass," Most sound advice I've heard for years."
Alastor barked out an amused laugh and raised his hlass to hers, "For that compliment? I will break his legs for you if it is needed, darlin'. "
Clink went their glasses as they enjoyed each other's company for a while longer.
▢ lucifer morningstar ⚝
- Gentle caresses and positive affirmations -
"Okay so... meeting with the angels next week... then I have to call Michael- eugh cowabummer... then I have to-"
(Name) watched her friend flail around his office with a concerned frown on her lips, arms crossed over her chest.
He's been so stressed lately. He had that little break in between where he could just... chill.
And make his cute rubber duckies.
But now with everything in the hotel, he's had a lot more work on his shoulders. Specifically with Heaven, as unfortunate as that was.
She saw his claws scratching through his hair as he paced back and forth, as though he was entranced by all these... issues. He's so entranced he's forgotten she's there with him.
So she sighed and lifted herself from the wall and walked into his walk-cycle path, grabbing onto his shoulders before he could crash into her.
He blinked in surprise and met eyes with her, a dumbfounded expression on his face," Oh... Hey."
She smiled," Hey."
"Sorry, you've probably heard me complain enough lately. Your pretty ears must be burning with all the yapping-"
"Of course not, Lou..." She huffed out, interrupting him with a frown of disapproval. Her hands moved from his shoulders to his arms, rubbing gentle touches of comfort," I think you've got too much on your plate lately - you using me as an outlet to vent to is the least of my problems."
He deflated a little, a tiredly wry grin on his lips," You're... you're too nice, y'know that?"
"What? You'd rather I spit and degrade you~?" She flirted teasingly with a fanged grin.
"No thanks... for now." He then sighed and moved his head to rest on her chest, cheek smooshing against her collar bone," I need a vacation."
(Name) laughed as she threaded her fingers through his mussed-up hair gently and soothingly," You were basically on a vacation already, hon. Now's the time to get back to work. Put all those wonderful thoughts and dreams to good use."
He melted in her arms, closing his eyes slowly as he wrapped his arms around her waist. This felt more domestic than platonic, but the two of them were too focused on eachother to admit that.
"You'll stay, right? I like having you here." He mumbled tiredly," U-unless you don't wanna which I totally understand and a-accept... y'know, you don't have to be here if you don't want t-"
"Stop worrying you dummy." (Name) chuckled out,"... I'd love to stay here with you."
"Phew..." He huffed and grinned sharply," Good to hear... a-amazing to hear!... Y... you're the best."
"Don't I know it~!"
687 notes · View notes
bbyhellfire · 3 days
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rockstar!eddie keeping your photo taped to the back of his guitar. some pictures are sweet, like you making a heart with your hands or him kissing your cheek.
but most are not so innocent. you sticking your tongue to reveal a puddle of his cum. a close-up of your lips sucking on his thumb. his name written in your lipstick across your tits. even a sneaky one he took when you were riding him reverse cowgirl.
and without meaning to, those photos become a sort of litmus test for corroded coffin fans to brag about how close they were to the stage.
"i was close, i could see the pic. it's eddie doing a body shot. trust me i was right there!"
"no way, dude. i was at the vegas show. it's some chick in a hottub."
528 notes · View notes
cold-kitty · 2 days
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Due to very, very high demand for part two of my Yan!Mermaid (looks at my notifications and cries), here it is.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Contains: NSFW, dub-con, same warnings as the last one other than that
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Yan!Mermaid who starts clinging to your leg as you sigh, so happy that you're giving him another chance.
Yan!Mermaid who watches your hand signals and listens to your foreign words, not understanding a thing but tries to listen for your sake.
Yan!Mermaid who forces himself not to straddle you when he sits next to you, his tail swaying slowly behind him.
Yan!Mermaid who watches you fish all day, just enjoying your presence.
Yan!Mermaid who pouts and whines and clings to you when you try to leave. no no no no no! don't leave! i don't wanna be alone! stay with me, i promise to keep you warm!
Yan!Mermaid who tries to climb into the trunk of your car, and somehow manages.
Yan!Mermaid who happily slides out of your truck when you arrive home, smiling wide.
Yan!Mermaid who's surprised when you don't seem happy too. you look mad, but you suck it up and groan.
Yan!Mermaid who doesn't like how you put him in a tank with the fish you caught, he wants to sleep in your bed!
Yan!Mermaid who climbs out of the tank when you're asleep and crawls across the floor to your room, curling up in bed with you.
Yan!Mermaid who lets his mind wander to when he was grinding against you, how good it felt. y-your skin is so w-warm and soft... a-ah...
Yan!Mermaid who is immediately worked up again, pressing himself against you tight.
Yan!Mermaid who lets his hands greedily trail over you, gently squeezing your thighs and watching the flesh bounce back into place.
Yan!Mermaid who hesitantly pulls down your pants. he promises himself that he's just looking, but he can't resist the temptation. s-so pretty...
Yan!Mermaid who starts by squishing the flesh of your ass, watching it jiggle. he continues to do that for a while, almost mesmerized. he loves watching you squirm in your sleep too.
Yan!Mermaid who sticks his fingers in his mouth, sucking on them and getting them wet.
Yan!Mermaid who starts by pushing one finger into you, slowly so he doesn't hurt you. he watches how your unconscious body squirms and reacts to the intrusion.
Yan!Mermaid who slowly pushes another finger into you, but that wakes you up. you look behind you almost immediately, a horrified look on your face.
Yan!Mermaid who expects you to hurt him, staring at you with wide and fearful eyes. he starts moving his fingers nonetheless, hoping that it might calm you down, twisting and curling them with slight hesitation. oh please don't hate me! you're just so irresistible!
Yan!Mermaid who watches as your body starts to quiver softly, your head falling back into the pillow. you were giving up to the pleasure, even if reluctantly.
Yan!Mermaid who feels encouraged, his fingers thrusting fasted, twisting and curling them to his hearts content. he makes sure to get real close to you so he can hear all of your soft whimpers and moans. a-ah... keep making those sounds... so cute...
Yan!Mermaid who keeps this up until you cum, and oh my God is he so happy. he watches as you convulse softly, pulling his fingers out and licking them. he doesn't mind if it's nasty if it's you.
Yan!Mermaid who lowers himself down and starts licking up the cum that fell onto the bed.
Yan!Mermaid who pats your back reassuringly as he positions himself behind you, helping you out though the whole thing. stroking your hair, praising you in his language, kissing every inch of your body, going as slow as he can.
Yan!Mermaid who cuddles you the whole night after that, kissing you softly. he's so happy, so fucking happy. he finally got to mate with you like a real lover, even if it was only one short round.
(BONUS NSFW: Yan!Mermaid definitely does analingus, %100. Yan!Mermaid puts your needs and wants before his, if he wants to go fast and you want to go slow he goes slow. he hates seeing you in crying, so he refuses to overstimulate you, nothing rough or degrading, and he doesn't dare leave marks on you. Yan!Mermaid AFTERCARE, SO MUCH OF IT.)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Does anyone know how mermaid dick works? Like honestly, how. Is it in the tail? Just hanging out there? HOW!?
~🐈‍⬛
948 notes · View notes
usedpidemo · 2 days
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Stargazing (Twice Mina)
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With the way things are going, Mina’s begging for trouble. And not the usual slap of the wrist kind that celebrities get away with—the kind that’s scandalous, career damning.
She’s so close to falling apart.
And as you watch her come undone—the very image that defines her gradually disappears—you can’t help but think: she deserves this.
—————
If there’s any clear-cut takeaway, it’s this: Mina is designed to be gorgeous, and she plays the part to near perfection. 
That’s the whole point. Here’s a sea of media outlets and paparazzi, accompanied by flashing cameras and screaming fans on one side. On the other, stars and figures from different fields, all dressed to the nines and emanate a distinguishable aura. The ‘I’m better than you’ kind. No amount of modest smiles and perfectly curated PR-fluff can disguise the noxious air of celebrity on the red carpet. 
Then you look at Mina, wearing the hell out of that backless dress, designed by none other than yours truly (you). You couldn’t have asked for a better muse. She carries herself and your brand around with a confident smile—with pride—seemingly indifferent to the raucous screams telling her to look this way, that way. Wherever her profile turns, cameras illuminate the crowd in near-perfect unison. 
It’s a slow motion fashion moment. 
As if she couldn't look any prettier, she brushes her hair with a quick, delicate swipe of her hand with queenly grace. The cameras live for moments like these. It’s what goes viral online; it’s what gets social media buzzing. She’s a K-pop idol, the media will say and it’s true, but she doesn’t look out of place with the so-called elite. If anything, she blends in seamlessly, rich, quiet, and enigmatic personality and all. 
Cameras continue to follow her as she walks through the carpet. She greets a few other celebrities in the vicinity; mostly Hollywood actresses and artists before she disappears behind the steps of the building. Throughout the entire ordeal, you were never on her mind, not even during interviews, nor when she was in clear view, even though you made her what she is now. All she can think about is herself and her character. That’s how fame works.
You don’t even get a text. Your only reference is a note that reads 23:00. 
—————
The next time you see Mina is hours later, at the promised time. One slender leg enters the backseat of the vehicle. She remains mostly untouched, leaving the gala looking the same as when she entered. She’s considerate enough to wave and give a flying kiss to the crowd, who unsurprisingly, go crazy for her. It’s a convincing act. You would, too, if you weren’t always by her side for ninety percent of the day.
She breathes out this deeply relieved sigh once the door slams shut. She’s tired—of being someone else, and just exhausted in general; she’s been in front of a mirror since five in the morning and it’s almost midnight by the time the event ends. You can tell she’d rather be in her hotel suite than anywhere else.
So you drive. No words. Just hit the road and get out of there. 
Even late into the night, Paris is still bustling and lively. You don’t make it past three streets before being met by traffic ahead. It’s an agonizing crawl. The satnav says you’ll arrive at your hotel by 2:00 in the morning. Mina probably won’t make it by midnight, at this point because she’s on the verge of falling unconscious, resting her head on the door. Her heels are set on the opposite end, with her lower half resting along the edges of the backseat into a couch position.
Even when she’s asleep, she’s still gorgeous. 
“Miss?” you gently call to her, snapping her from her tired daze. She gives you a mild stare through the rear-view mirror, unable to speak.
“We’re gonna be held up by traffic. You want something to eat?” you ask, knowing she likely won’t take anything more than a handful of fries or half a burger. 
“Sure. Whatever.” Mina sounds cold, a little annoyed somewhat. The past day has been unkind to her health; she arrived at the airport yesterday after a different schedule and barely had less than five hours of rest before dedicating the entire day for a gala she had contractual obligations to attend. She couldn’t say no even if she wanted; she’s got her whole schedule curated and planned out for months. 
You have more time to get her dresses planned out and prepared out than she has to breathe.
And time is unkind to both of you right now. Traffic trogs along at a snail’s pace. The arrival time on the satnav moves further and further away. Sunrise will meet you above a red light at this rate. How anyone gets around in this city considering the number of events that are happening all at once is beyond you. You only drive through Paris a handful of times a year, all for the same reason, and you abhor the idea—let alone the experience—every single time.
It’s difficult enough to wait, especially in this late of hours, when money and careers are on the line. Even more challenging is keeping a cool head and withholding yourself from using your instincts against the trusted systems of the algorithm. Mina will call you many things. She’ll call you insane. You don’t mind; it’ll be on the lower end of insults and comments you’ve heard from the so-called ‘elite.’ 
At the end of the day, you’re just simply following orders. 
You swerve off the main road, into narrow alleys and streets that aren’t registered on any official map. Anywhere that can give you a sense of progress and hold momentum. You drive. You make liberal use of your klaxon against anything and anyone. You go around in circles, sometimes looking at the satnav if it’s kind enough to give you a shorter, quicker path. In your haste, you completely overlook the star, the celebrity you’re meant to protect and coddle like fine art, and cracks begin to form.
“Shit!” Mina fastens the seatbelt, in distress and wide awake from your uncharacteristically aggressive driving. She lifts her head. Pierces your gaze through the rearview mirror with a mixture of panic, concern, and frustration. All that hours spent in the makeup room to look perfect, down to the smallest of details, coming undone within a few minutes. 
She seemed rather proud of her appearance, too.
Of course, her demands bounce off your ears—or ring through like white noise. You only know your task. Get her safe. 
Even though it’s your very idea, you forget about the thought of eating, too. You’ve passed by a couple of McDonalds along the way, but are blinded by tunnel vision to recognize a single one. It’s not a big loss; she’s as tired of eating fast food as much as you are. It isn’t good for her image right now, either. 
Eventually, you do make it back to her hotel. A little over midnight, but still not as early as you wanted to be. You look at the status of your passenger princess. She’s about as coddled as a five year old playing with her doll. A mess.
When you open up the door for her to step out, it’s a dramatic moment that gathers everyone’s attention and fixes every eye. It’s loud. 
It also so happens to be empty in the area.
The way she slaps you in the cheek echoes throughout the valet like the sharp crack of a whip, or the pop of a firework. Fucking hell, she hits hard. For a dainty woman like Mina, she’s surprisingly strong. “What the hell is wrong with you?” she snaps, cold and bitter. 
You find no mistake in what you did. In fact, you believe you’re doing her a service. Tomorrow, she’ll be at the airport and out of the country faster than when she came in. She doesn’t have to think about you for the foreseeable future. You only see a moody, ill-tempered celebrity frustrated that circumstances haven’t gone her way. Chalk it up to fatigue, but you can’t be arsed to explain yourself or react accordingly at this point.
She’s also pretty when she’s angry, you can’t help but think. Not the pouty, cute, wholesome kind—the ‘I’m gonna rip your throat’ out kind of ire. Sometimes you forget your job and admire just how gorgeous Mina is. You’re no different than the paparazzi or the average fan.
It makes her heated. You’re mentally smirking.
It would be a waste to fight over something as petty as reckless driving this late. No one got hurt; not a single traffic light or speed limit was violated. But her heart jumped a little bit when she expected the least. In her eyes, it’s a reasonable enough incident to show some attitude and assert her status over you.
But not tonight.
Instead, you take her by the wrist and lead her to the alley beside the hotel, away from potential cameras and prying eyes. She yelps, but you slip a hand around her mouth so she remains quiet. Mina is too tired to show some resistance. 
“Listen here, Miss Myoui,” you tell her, pointing your finger directly at her. “I did everything right to make sure you have a fine, comfortable experience in Paris. Did your dress, drove you around, everything. What I did was save you a few hours of sleeping in the car.  I never asked for anything from you, so don’t come acting like an ungrateful brat.”
“Fuck you.” Mina raises her palm, readying another thunderous, face cracking slap as a threat. “I could have done all that instead if I wanted to.”
“Need I remind you who made the dress that you’re wearing?”
She freezes, unable to find some form of retaliation or rebuttal.
“Thought so.”
“Well what am I supposed to do, then? Get on my knees and worship you as my lord and savior?” she asks. 
Suddenly, something clicks inside your head. An idea.
“That—” you pause, mentally noting the entire sequence in a flash, “Actually, that’s not a bad idea.”
“I’m not doing it.” Mina rolls her eyes, turning her gaze away and crossing her arms. Somehow, she’s managed to recognize your intent so quickly. What isn’t surprising is her natural cleverness and intelligence. “Not tonight. Not after what you did.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“That’s what you believe, asshole.” She shakes her head. “Just—let me go.”
“Would be such a shame if a rumor spread around then that you were spotted in the bathrooms with one of the billionaires,” you say, blunt in your threat. “Wouldn’t you hate that? I hear there was a tabloid photo of you spotted with one of the presidential candidates too—”
“You lie.” Mina’s eyes glare at you. You don’t flinch.
She’s not wrong. You’re only telling a half-truth. It’s true that there were billionaires who attended. It would be a strange event if there weren’t any present, in Paris of all places. The report of a presidential candidate showing up is legitimate as well, but that’s as much as you know as the general public. What goes on inside, you have no knowledge of.
“And what happened there was nothing at all,” she adds. “So quit trying to blackmail me and just let me fucking rest.”
“Then explain this to me.” You point at the dress she’s wearing—your dress—and find different sized patches where they shouldn’t belong. They’re not by design; they’re clearly the result of some kind of external tampering or meddling. Around where her legs should be. Near her tummy. The gala is an indoor event, yet it looks as if she had been soaked in some capacity. 
Something’s quite off.
“So?” Mina defends herself, unwilling to concede. “Got spilled by drinks, and you don’t really care if it gets ruined.”
While it’s true you usually don’t mind your dresses getting ruined, it comes at a price. “I’m not mad. And yes, I don’t care if you do fuck all with that dress. Hell, that candidate is very lucky he got to clap that—”
“Shut up!” 
By instinct, Mina slaps you again.
You chuckle. The sore redness of your cheek isn’t going to silence you. 
As she tries to walk away, you grab her by the wrist again. Pull her close to your chest. She trembles, but can’t do anything to stop or shake you loose.
“So you admit? You got fucked by that candidate?”
“No!” Mina remains adamant in her tone. She twists your grip to free herself. “Just—fucking stop already!”
“Only if you blow me. Just a quickie.”
“What? Why?”
“As remittance for the ruined dress, of course. Remember? Ruined dress, ruined cunt.” You can’t help but grin as you remind her of the terms of your agreement. It’s not written in the contract, but a mutual trust shared between you and your muses. 
Mina sighs. A deal is a deal, even if it’s not signed on the dotted line. And she has the experience to show for it. Ultimately, she reluctantly agrees, sounding defeated in her response. “Fine. But after this, we’re fucking done.”
“I’m in a bit of a good mood today, so I don’t want your pussy,” you tell the disgruntled Mina, unbuckling your belt then unzipping your pants. “Not gonna lie, the thought of some future president fucking that cunt of yours makes me sick. Get on your knees.”
God, it feels wrong, but you’re enjoying every little moment of this, down to the finer details. The look of dissatisfaction on Mina’s face. The fact you can get her flustered with your teasing. The fact she’s obediently on her knees as you whip out your hard cock directly in front of her. She can tell you as many lies as she wants, but they have no firm ground to stand on. She’s not some stuck-up star unlike many others in that gala, but even she needs to be humbled once in a while.
“His dick is better than yours, anyway. I won’t miss this pathetic piece of shit,” she tells you, gripping to the hem of your dress, dodging every attempt to slip your shaft between her lips. 
All the more reason to plunge it deep in her throat.
“Is it? This piece of shit you love to ride on?” You grab your cock and pursue her evasive mouth. You have a hand planted on her scalp, holding her still, as she begrudgingly accepts your length between her lips slowly, in a losing effort to fight back. She gulps her throat, watching as her cheeks hollow, as drool begins to coat your sensitive shaft, until eventually, her seal is vacuum-tight and tension builds up in your groin. “This cock you want to use—fuck—”
Words fail you as you become reacquainted with the warmth of Mina’s mouth. She bobs her head back and forth, slipping a hand around the base of your shaft to stroke. Your cock is poking the back of her throat, your senses relaxing at the pleasure coursing through your body. You feel yourself slipping away—at the cold, at the heat of her sweltering lips, at the layer of saliva that fills every inch of your length. It’s all too much.
This is Mina’s least favorite position. She’d rather have you beneath her most of the time, relentlessly bouncing on your cock till you’re completely drained; it’s how most encounters with her go to the point you simply give up and expect yourself on the mattress as soon as you enter her room. None of that matters now, not when she needs your very shaft to fill her thirsty, dry mouth, as a palette cleanse from the boring gala and because she needs you as much as she utterly hates you.
She doesn’t like the thought of you above her. Her eyes can’t be bothered to look up. It’s a strange dynamic; she’s the celebrity, she’s supposed to have control, not you. Your hand tugs on her black hair, begging her for more, and it reinforces the idea. You love this. Mina, the quiet, cold personality that everyone wants to be like, is zealously sucking you off and you’re helpless to how incredible she is. The suction of her throat. The drag of her tongue on your head, then on the sides. The passionate hum of satisfaction. You recognize the smug grin etched on the corner her lips while she doesn’t bother to look back, knowing full well she can take you any way she wants and you’ll fucking love it. She’s so aggressive, yet perfectly paced. 
And she moves like she can read your mind—cum and saliva dripping from the corners, her tongue running laps around your balls, her mouth devouring you entirely with each entrance. Small, whiny sounds that resemble a choke—they’re nothing compared to the echoey moans you can’t help but make. You’re gasping for air as if she’s punctured a hole in your lungs—and to an extent, she has. Your body instinctively has to remind itself they’re leaning on air, because she’s making your spine contort in ways they shouldn't be twisting. 
Mina is quite used to this. The notion of having to suck a cock. Not just yours, but fans, higher-ups in suits, all kinds. She’ll tell you yours is the best one, and you’ll believe her. You can tell by personal experience. You shouldn’t let control slip, especially now, when such power is rarely vested on you, but you can’t help yourself. There’s some urgency in handling her, but it might be a little too late. Especially when—
“Mina,” you pant, and you sound so desperate. “So close, Mina. I’m so close. I’m gonna—”
She continues to create friction, and eventually fire. Her hands wring around your balls and your base, tightening the coil of pressure in your stomach and in your veins. Spiraling further and further out of control, you can feel your legs crumble in a last ditch attempt to hold on. With your remaining resolve, you cling to whatever semblance of clarity you can find. 
And she plunges her lips further into your length. Her tongue descends lower, to the underside of your balls. None of that disdain and hate from moments ago can be found, only zeal and passion. It’s not graceful in the slightest; it goes against everything her image represents, yet she’s so damn good at it, you can’t stomach the thought of her doing something this filthy, this obscene. The very idea breaks reality. Yet here she is, on her knees, a mouth filled by cock, encouraging you to cum without uttering a single word.
So you oblige her. 
You don’t give her the decency of asking. You just pour it all over her with reckless abandon. Yanking her by the scalp, swiftly pulling yourself away in the heat of climax, blasting thick warm seed all over her pristine features, using her visage as a canvas for all your repressed thoughts. Mina welcomes every drop, sticks her tongue out with an inviting stare, unfazed by all that hot load you’re shooting directly at her. Her professionalism is practically hardwired, second nature to allow herself to be used this freely. It’s more than personal satisfaction; it also pays the bills.
It’s a win-win.
“Happy?” she asks, propping herself back on her feet, using the top of the dress to clean herself. Not a waste when it’s sole purpose is to be one and done. 
The mess around your groin—residue sticking on your pants—answers her question. You can only nod in agreement as you clumsily and slowly gather your bearings. She shakes her head, amused at your predicament, but proud of her work.
Mina acts nonchalant, walks back to the hotel while you still work through your trousers, as if nothing ever happened. As if you weren’t moaning in public about how airtight her lips are around your cock. You hurriedly follow her, only to be met with a surprise waiting just past the entrance doors.
“I hope Paris has been kind to you so far, Miss Minari, because we certainly won’t be.”
Three comically mischievous men of similar stature and appearance, in nearly identical outfits (a simple shirt, coat, jeans and beret combination, how inspired) with the most cartoonishly evil looks on their faces. They could be anyone on the street. You can immediately tell they’ve been waiting for some time.
“Who are you?” you ask, stepping in front of your client. Mina looks nervous, quietly analyzing the three suspicious characters.
“Doesn’t matter who we are, even if we tell you,” replies the middle man, matter-of-factly. “We have no intention of hurting you.”
“If that’s the case, then please step aside. Miss Mina won’t be taking any requests and she’s very tired, sorry.”
“I don’t think so, buddy.”
“What?”
“We heard everything. You lucky bastard,” says the man on the left. “I don’t think Mina seems to be tired at all. In fact, I believe she wants more of it!”
All eyes turn to the person of interest, who seems to be in denial. Mina, this cold, calculated star, appears to have a harsh, sudden reaction. Offended by the comment, she angrily retorts, “No? What the hell are you saying?”
“Yeah, you heard the guy.” The third man steps forward, the other two close behind slowly approaching her. “It’s all over you. Don’t try to deny it. You enjoyed getting blasted all over that pretty face of yours!”
The three men nod in unison. You don’t have a firearm or any weapon on hand, but you’re willing to fight all three guys, even if you meet a terrible end. That’s the likeliest outcome. Lady luck seems to have disappeared on your side, but it’s part of the job, after all.
“Relax, girl. Again, we don’t wish to hurt you or your bodyguard.” The first man, the guy assuming leadership reiterates. It’s as civil and diplomatic as it sounds, but the looming threat remains prevalent. And it doesn’t do them any favors when they creep up towards both of you like wolves. “We just want what he has.”
“And what is it?” Mina frowns, hiding herself behind you, peeking over the shoulder, trembling.
“Oh, you know what we want, Miss Minari. Give it to us and then we’ll leave you alone.”
Where’s the security in this hotel, you wonder? The ground floor is dead empty of guests, which is to be expected, there’s hardly anyone at the front desk, and there are zero guards at the valet that normally wait for the next car to pull up. It’s midnight, what did you expect? 
“Can’t I give you guys some money instead?” she pleads, desperate. She’s no longer hiding herself, but standing side by side with you. Shaking. Nervous. “Name your price and I’ll pay it.”
“I don’t think that will work, miss.” The three men remain adamant. They have you trapped against the corner of the entrance door. Neither of you can hardly move, let alone run. “We’re in Paris. We can easily rob anyone for our keep.” 
Judging by the rather expensive watches and sneakers they all sport, they seem to have a point. 
“But please, we just want one. One round with the finest Japanese idol in the business. That’s it,” the first man adds, his cohorts nodding in agreement.
Mina turns to you, calling your attention. “Hey.” You’re on high alert, waiting for the moment for hell to break loose. She merely stares. Nothing comes out of her mouth, just an expressive, seemingly strange gaze that doesn’t register anything in your head, nor does it open up any sort of interpretation. And for a while, you don’t understand what’s happening or what’s her intent. The three guys seemingly wait, shrugging whenever you eye any one of them. There’s no rush; time seems to stop at that particular moment. You know their demand; you have ears. You just don’t know if Mina is actually serious about caving to the pressure.
—————
(And fucking hell, you’re so—so—screwed.)
You don’t know if Mina will recover after this. Specifically, her career.
Clothes scatter everywhere in the room, with no regard for cleanliness or the host’s decency. Mina is set in the middle of the mattress as its centerpiece. The star of the show. Her dress is bundled around her waist, baring her chest and legs, while every man is completely in the nude. She’s spread on her fours, with the two subordinates lined up parallel in front of her, the third right behind her. You plan to join after, when everyone’s seemingly tired, when you can have her all to yourself.
At least, that’s what you think will happen. You know she’s going to get used all night long. Mina’s bracing for impact, hoping she can walk out in one piece after this.
You’re holding your phone, ready to record every little thing that happens. It’s not by their request, but your own personal desire. You love seeing it—the notion of Mina getting her comeuppance. The two men in front of her waste no time, stroking themselves hard and slapping their cocks right into Mina’s face, spilling flecks of precum on her. You notice the giddiness in their expressions as they incline the idol’s chin up, nothing but unbridled lust on their faces. The only thing missing is hurling her around and ragdolling her.
“Such a pretty face deserves all this cum,” says the second guy. He’s on the pudgier side, evidently not meant to be in the same atmosphere, let alone the same bed as Mina. “I’ll have you know you were my bias, and you have the most numbers on my counter.”
Utterly shameless.
Meanwhile, the first guy, his colorful body filled with numerous tattoos, slaps Mina’s cheek hard. It ripples throughout her lithe figure, rattles the bed a little. She keens. He takes a moment to look at the hand that committed the sinful act. He’s shaking, in disbelief. He did that. It’s a moment in time, a monumental occasion. Anyone else in his position would be shouting in the streets, celebrating too. 
You would.
The third guy, this aged man who’s evidently in his mid-to-late forties and probably shouldn’t be consuming K-pop, continues to stroke himself to Mina’s face. Too bad her mouth can only fit one cock at a time. Her hand grabs his shaft and he grips her hair instead as she pumps him at a delicate pace. Their collective moans fill the room as each person assumes a position around Mina’s sensitive holes, filling them hastily. No technique, no patience whatsoever. 
It’s pornographic for all the wrong reasons. How it all came to be. The setup. The characters. The very scene itself. Down to the shitty camera recording. Not befitting of an idol such as Mina. It’s got its own charm, but for the most part, it's as disgusting as you imagined. You can’t believe she’d agree to this. At the same time, you can’t look away. It’s a car crash that you know is gonna happen, yet all you can do is watch helplessly—and stroke yourself hard to.
All three men have different rhythms in which they fuck Mina. Tattoos slowly pounding at her dripping cunt, accompanying each deep thrust with a loud smack of her ass. His one hand grabbing at the hem of whatever’s left of her dress, itching to rip it off. Mina’s moan is suppressed by Pudge’s cock protruding through her throat. A fistful of hair in his grip, the other on her flushed, reddened cheek. Expecting her to take his relentless rhythm, only for her gag with each pump into her airtight lips. As if he doesn’t know how giving head works. The oldest man loosens up, lets his body hang as Mina strokes his cock with her ironclad fingers, letting flecks of cum spread over her neck and her shoulders, content with letting her handle him how she wants. 
In a way, it’s admirable seeing Mina like this. Three cocks and all, her commitment to fanservice and satisfaction is any fan’s dream for their idol. You’ve seen it firsthand before, how she attends to each fan one by one, but to handle multiple without a single complaint is quite the accomplishment. She’s gonna take it, and she’s going to love it.
And in fact, she does. You’ve never seen her this dedicated and into pleasuring anyone. How she uses her other hand to seize Pudge’s cock, spitting and licking the head, setting him ablaze. Even as the man with the tattoos begins to wreck into her sopping cunt, foregoing leisure for speed—as her whines echo throughout the room—she maintains her composure the best she can. Even begging him to go harder, which he obliges. The bed’s quaking, seemingly closer to collapse, as the man screams to the ceiling, “Fucking tight—so close—cumming—aah—”
All three men are clinging to Mina in some capacity. On her waist, using her hair, or her shoulders—as they all appear close to their climaxes. Their collective groans of pleasure make this evident noise that warrants numerous calls of disturbance or concern. Imagine the commotion when the staff called in to investigate eventually finds out. The notion spurs Mina as she leans further into it—looks right into the camera as she licks up Pudge’s underside. As if demanding you to take the best shot of her while doing it. 
It’s scandalous—the way Mina uses her expressions to make herself look good even under duress. How she winks, sticks her tongue, twists her face into lewder and lewder reactions while the three men who seemingly have power over her, now fold under her control. If only you could step in and be a part of the show, but you can’t.
And she looks even better with cum all over her.
The three guys moan in unison for dramatic effect. As if it was part of the intended shot. One after the other, each man reaches their own orgasm and blasts their hot load onto some part of Mina’s body. None of them seem to find their way into what they initially wanted, which is her holes. Mostly—tattoos man is partly into a deep thrust when he meets his abrupt end, only filling part of her cunt with his seed before deciding to pull out and throbs onto her back, her legs instead. Pudge gets most of her face, which she happily accepts. But even with her mouth wide open, he can hardly land his cum onto her sweet lips. As for the old man, he was never a factor to begin with. He had spilled his cum on the side, on the shoulder, on some hair, on her fingers. He was done before the others even finished.
What an unexpected sight. 
You stand from the couch you’ve been sitting on, close in on the aftermath of their orgasms, watching as they stand lifeless around the centerpiece that is Mina, running her fingers over all the cum spilled on her body. This is child’s play to her, yet the most surprising thing is: she wasn’t expecting any of the three guys to finish this soon, let alone all three of them. She has this unsatisfied look in her eyes observing her conduits, the supposed ‘threats,’ as if they didn’t live up to her expectation.
“Did I look good?” she asks you, tilting up, resting her head on her palm.
You show her the phone, speed past the raw footage. She watches like she’s the director—which she kind of is.
“Mm—not good enough,” she adds, grabbing the phone and grabbing a tripod from the bedside drawer. “Set it up over there and do it again. They’re not leaving this until they get it right. And you’re gonna show them the way.”
Looking at their tired, exasperated faces, they’d rather be anywhere but here. 
As for Mina, she’s the most energetic you’ve seen her in a while, eager for more—and you’re gonna have to make some phone calls explaining why she isn’t at the airport by morning. 
—————
(A/N: woo missed another deadline/date but happy birthday Mina! By request/commission, so thank you for waiting and I hope it was to your liking. I do agree we need more subby Mina but in the end she owns all of us let's be real XD Thank you for reading!)
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It's a Match! || poly!141 x Reader
[Chapter Pre-27] || [Chapter 28]
Pairing: Price x gn!Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.2K cw: none Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: Just a cute little moment + us clowning on all the lads bc ofc
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Chapter 27: Peace and Quiet.
When you asked John to take you away, him taking you on a whole boat was not what you had in mind.
Granted, he did take you to his home in Credenhill beforehand; a cosy two-bedroom row home, which was surprisingly well-furnished for a single man in his 40s.
After having dinner on Friday night with him (John is a surprisingly good cook!) and cuddling together on the sofa before ending the night in bed, late on Saturday morning he awoke you with brunch in bed.
You half expected a lazy Saturday... only for him to tell you that you were going on an adventure.
So you ended up down south, on river Severn, on a boat. No, not a goddamn rickety fishing boat; a bloody yacht. A small one, but one nonetheless.
That didn't stop him from wearing a fishing hat. Come to think of it, you very rarely see John without a hat, only indoors. But last night when he went to get you, he was wearing a toque... He wears those a lot.
Apparently, John is an avid fan of boating. And bought one a few years back.
"Was this just an attempt at showing off?" You teased him as you stood by his side, one of his arms wrapped around your hip as the boat cruised out to the mouth of the river.
"No, da'lin', would never dream of it." John replied with a cheeky grin.
"I feel like you're lying to me." You replied as you leaned against him, eyes locked on the beautiful view of the cityscapes as you sailed out to the sea.
"Not lying, just... embellishing the truth." He joked and nuzzled up to you, pressing a kiss to the back of your neck as he pulled you to sit on his lap at the command of the boat.
"Right..." You said sarcastically, feigning annoyance, before melting at the feel of his kisses, his nose nuzzling into your hair, his beard tickling your nape.
"Plus, maybe, perhaps, I was worried the lads were going to try and crash out little getaway..." He whispered as he kept dropping little kisses onto you. "Yeah?" You asked as you looked up and back at him.
"They know where I live... Simon does, at least. And I doubt he'd show up, but... he likes you a whole lot." John murmured and then started peppering kisses to your neck.
Shivering a bit, you chuckled. "And you don't share, do you?" You joked.
"Oh, I share. But you asked me to take you away, not to bring 'em with." He quipped with a smirk on his lips.
"Haven't seen you share yet, so my point still stands." You retorted as you narrowed your eyes playfully at him.
"Oh, is that how it is? You're a 'need to see it to believe it', type of person?" He joked and rubbed his lips against the shell of your ear.
"Mhm..." You replied as your eyes closed, leaning back into him, feeling his displays of affection.
Your hands found his extended forearms as his hands controlled the boat on either side of you. You caressed his strong, hairy forearms, a weak attempt at returning the affection.
"How about you go sit out there... Feel the sea air, the water splashing on you..." He offered. "Lay out in the sun, get a bit of a tan?"
"John, we're off the coast in Wales. There's not going to be a tan." You told him playfully.
"Humour me, will you?" He asked you and shook his head, amused.
Nodding, you got up off his lap, kissing him on the lips one last time before you slipped into the cabin to get changed into a swimsuit and then back out.
You sat outside, where John could see you from the cockpit, and took his advice to heart, lounging on the foam chairs at the bow, enjoying the cool water splashing and the sun in the horizon. It was actually enjoyable.
You sneaked a glance at John as he drove the boat, smiling at him, before you decided to put on some sunscreen, just in case. John watched you closely and made a point of showing you how much he enjoyed the sight of you putting it on. At one point he even wolf whistled at you.
After a while, John slowed the boat down and moored it. You didn't think much of it, though the area you were in was beautiful. Nothing but the two of you for miles, the ocean rocking the boat nicely and the sun shining ahead.
John comes to join you, in his own swimming trunks, pulling you close, and peppering kisses all over your back, shoulders, nape... You find yourself giggling. There was something about John... Perhaps the fact he was older, but his attention felt so... nice.
"Is this what you wanted?" He asked. "Some good ol' peace and quiet?"
"Mhm..." You replied as you rolled over to face him. Then, you burst out laughing.
How were you supposed to not? The man had haphazardly lathered himself in sunscreen and was still wearing the bloody fishing hat!
"John, I can't-" You joked.
"What?" He asked in confusion, eyebrows raised.
"You look like a dad on vacation!" You joked and resumed your fit of giggles.
"You calling me old?" He asked in an exaggerated tone.
"No!" You said as you pushed yourself up onto your knees, running your hands over his face to spread the sunscreen more evenly. "You just..." You trailed off.
"I'll have ya know I'm still in my prime." He murmured, his thick beard covering his mouth with each word he spoke.
"You're also a dork." You retorted, feeling his hands slide up your thighs as he pulled you onto his lap.
"Oh? Would a dork have a pretty thing like you in a swimsuit in his arms while on his own boat?" He retorted before leaning close and peppering a kiss on your lips.
"I guess not." You replied playfully. "But the hat certainly doesn't help." You added and slipped it off his head. "See? So much better..."
"I happen to like my boonie hat." He told you as he kept peppering kisses on your face. "I wear it all the time when I'm in the field."
"No way?" You asked dramatically. "You mean you wear this when you're out there with your rifles and what not?" You asked as you lifted the hat off the seat next to you.
"Yes?" He told you, causing you to break into laughter again. "What? It's not that bad, is it?" He asked, feigning insecurity.
"No, it's just-" You trailed off. "First, Simon with his skull mask, then you with your boonie hat... What's next?" You asked.
"Kyle wears a baseball cap with the British flag more often than not." John replied, causing you to shriek with laughter.
"NO?!" You replied, incredulously. "No way?! He dresses so nicely out of uniform, you're telling me he also does the 'one hat' thing?"
"Absolutely he does. Have to ask him to take it off sometimes. It's like it's glued to 'im." He joked as his hands caress your body lovingly.
"What about Johnny?" You asked with narrowed eyes.
"Doesn't wear anything. Just that stupid bloody mohawk." He replied.
"Is it because of his big head?" You joked, which caused you both to break into laughter this time.
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taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!):
@daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @cod-z , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark , @xxshadowbabexx
@severenswife , @enarien, @agoodmoviekiss , @l0lziez , @whos-fran , @greatstormcat , @openup-yourmind , @neoarchipelago , @sodavrr , @cutiecusp , @lilliumrorum , @c-nstantine , @kneelforloki , @comeonatmebruh , @codsunshine , @waiting-so-long , @captainquake42 , @gazspookiebear , @mynameismisty , @reap3erslov3 , @reaper-chan666 , @poohkie90 , @kitwithnokat , @stick-the-dumbass , @mothsdrabbles , @justanerd1 , @thesinsoflust , @thriving-n-jiving , @blckbrrybasket
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simplyholl · 2 days
Text
Reckless
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Summary: When you act recklessly on a mission, Bucky gets mad at you.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F. Reader
Warnings: Smut. 18+ ONLY. Minors DNI.
See My Masterlist Here
You had really done it now. You made Bucky so mad, he couldn’t even look at you. You were paired together for a mission, and you acted recklessly. You got separated from him and instead of waiting for him, you found the Hydra bunker where they were hiding.
You burst in without a plan and they would have most likely killed you. But Bucky came in and saved you. On the way back, he wouldn’t look at you, speak to you, or even acknowledge your existence.
It took a lot for him to get angry. So you didn’t know how you could fix this. You were such good friends, and he always made time for you. It was going on three days and he ignored every text, call, FaceTime, and knock on his door. You didn’t even know why he was so upset with you. You had done stupid stuff during missions before.
Finally you had enough of the silent treatment, so you waited until it was his normal time to train. He liked to work alone, so you didn’t have to worry about anyone else being there and interrupting you. You made your way to the gym, disappointed that he wasn’t there, nobody was.
You were just about to leave and come up with another plan when you heard someone in the men’s locker room. You hoped it was Bucky as you entered, the smell of soap filled the steamy room. Your sneakers squeaked with every step on the wet tile floor.
You heard Bucky singing some old fashioned song. Following his voice passed the lockers, you step over Thor’s discarded shorts. You shake your head, feeling sorry for the cleaners Tony hired. You see Bucky’s head peaking over the shower door. For a split second, you debate turning around. But you want your friend back more than anything, so you continue all the way to the showers.
“James, we need to talk.” Bucky jumps at the sound of your voice. “What are you doing in here? This is the men’s locker room.” He rolls his eyes, turning towards the spray of water. “You wouldn’t talk to me, I didn’t know when I’d be able to catch you.” He doesn’t answer, instead he picks up the shampoo bottle squirting some into his palm.
“I’m sorry for what I did. I just want you to talk to me.” He reaches up to wash the shampoo out of his hair, eyes closed. “I know you can hear me. Bucky, please?” You beg him but he continues ignoring you. He could be a real asshole when he wanted to. You set your phone down on the bench beside you. You reach down to take off your shoes then your socks.
You grab the handle to the shower door, letting yourself inside. Bucky’s eyes widen as he sees you in the shower with him. He makes an awkward attempt to cover his self. “Get out of here!” You walk over to him, “No! This is the only way to get you to pay attention to me!” You walk closer, “Tell me why you’re so mad at me.”
Bucky watches as the water sprays you, making your already tight workout clothes cling to your body. His throat bobs as he finally answers. “I’m not mad, I’m furious. You weren’t thinking. You never do. You went by yourself when you were told to wait, and if I hadn’t been close by, you would be dead.”
“I do stuff like that all the time, Buck. Why did it make you so upset?” Bucky takes a step toward you, removing his hands from his hardening cock. “Because I care about you! If you were mine, you wouldn’t be able to sit down for a week after that stunt you pulled.”
That was just the answer to send all your worries about crossing boundaries out the window. You press yourself against him, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him. When his lips met yours, it was like you were the only people in the whole world.
His metal hand makes quick work of your sports bra, ripping it right off you. The warm palm of his flesh hand meets your breast. He groans against your neck as his hands travel lower. He jerks your leggings off in one swift motion, throwing them to the side with a wet thud.
You were never so thankful that you didn’t wear panties as you were today. He reaches between you, long fingers dipping into you. You were so wet just from arguing with him, and he knew it. “All this from fighting with me, doll?” He smirks, knowing the effect it will have on you. You clench around his fingers as he curls them upward, his palm gently brushing your clit. “James” you moan, grasping his shoulders for support.
He removes his fingers from you, turning you around so fast that you don’t have time to register how empty you feel now. Bucky presses his body to your back, trapping you between him and the shower door. The cool door makes your nipples harden against it. You feel Bucky’s hard cock rub against the curve of your ass. You try to move to create some type of friction between you, but you can’t. His big body doesn’t budge. He uses his leg to spread you further.
You gasp as he thrusts into you, not giving you any time to adjust to his size before he plunges deeper, bottoming out. You claw at the shower door, as his thrusts grow brutal. His metal arm wraps around your waist, holding you where he wants you while his flesh hand grabs your chin. He tilts your face to look at him, “Are you going to do anything that stupid ever again?” He asks, his cock brushing that spot inside of you that makes your vision go blurry.
You can’t form words, it feels too good. “I expect an answer when I ask you a question.” Your eyes are glossy, you try to answer but you only make sounds. “My pretty baby, she’s too cock drunk to talk. Is that it, doll? Is my cock too much?” You manage to whisper yes, sending his ego into overdrive.
“That’s right, nobody will ever make you feel like I do. I’ll never touch you again, if you don’t follow orders. Am I understood?” Visions of his old army days flood your mind, the band in your stomach threatening to snap. “Y-yes sir.” You stutter. He seems satisfied with your answer, holding you closer to him. His fingers dig into your hip, no doubt leaving bruises, marking you as his.
He snaps his hips one last time, burying his face into your shoulder as he comes inside you. He stays like that for a minute, catching his breath before turning you around. He checks all over your body, his forehead wrinkling as he notices the multiple marks he left behind. “Was I too rough? I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was just so caught up in the moment-“
“It’s okay. I really liked it.” You confess. Bucky sighs in relief, bringing you back under the water, he starts to wash you. “Hey what about me?” Bucky smirks, “What about you, doll?” He washes down your arms. “I didn’t get off.” You state matter of factly. “Oh, I know. Only good girls get to cum.”
Tags
@cindylynn @wheredafandomat @multifandom-worlds @loz-3 @megharat-barnes-reid @kats72 @crimson25 @mochie85 @cakesandtom @lokidokieokie @theallknown213 @alexakeyloveloki @tmilover1993 @yeaiamme2 @pigeonmama @yeehawbrothers @lokischambermaid @fictive-sl0th @nomajdetective @goblingirlsarah @foxherder @weirdothatwritess @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed @freegardenbanananeck
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punkshort · 2 days
Text
saturday
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Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader (established relationship)
Summary: Your sister, Cassie, gives birth, and Joel has a question for your father.
Warnings: no outbreak, modern day but Joel is 40, language, fluff, flirting, soft!joel, explicit smut (18+MDNI), (somewhat - reader is on BC) unprotected piv sex, oral sex (f receiving), size kink?, alcohol use, reader's sister (obviously) gives birth but there's no description of the event
WC: 6.6K
Series Masterlist
dividers by @saradika-graphics
2:38am
You blinked a few times, making certain you were reading the time correctly. Sleep still weighed you down and you were having a hard time comprehending what woke you up in the first place. Then you heard it again and your heart jumped into your throat.
Someone was at your apartment door, you were sure of it. You could hear quiet scratching on the other side and when you sat up in bed to look across your apartment, you could see the unmistakable shadows of two legs under the crack in the door.
"Oh, my god," you mumbled, throwing the sheets off and grabbing your phone. Where was the baseball bat Joel gave you? What the hell did you do with it?
"Closet," you whispered to yourself, taking a few steps towards the coat closet when the door cracked open and you froze. You were in the middle of your apartment in just a tank top and underwear, clutching your stupid phone. This is how women are always killed in horror movies, you thought.
A familiar man's broad fame tripped over his own feet as he entered, and when you heard him curse quietly under his breath, relief flooded your veins which was quickly followed by annoyance. Reaching over to the floor lamp next to your couch, you flicked the switch, making him yelp and wince.
"What the hell are you doing, Joel?!"
He blinked rapidly and looked around the room before his eyes landed on you and a lazy grin spread across his lips. His hair was a mess and you could smell the alcohol and cigarettes from ten feet away. You wrinkled your nose but you couldn't help the goofy smile you always got whenever you saw him.
"You stink."
"Hey, baby," he croaked, his voice raspy from having far too much fun that evening. He stumbled towards you and you noticed dark spots staining his navy T-shirt that you hoped was just spilled beer.
"You scared the shit outta me. I almost called the cops!" you said, holding up your phone. "What are you doing?"
"Came t'see you," he slurred, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close. Now that he was standing in the light, you could see the pink dusting his cheeks underneath his heavy lidded eyes.
"You're very drunk," you told him, and he just hummed in response before burying his face in your neck. "Had fun with Tommy and the guys I take it?"
"Mhm," he mumbled, his lips sucking messily at your shoulder. "Wanted t'see you. Missed you. Fuck, you smell so good."
You giggled when his facial hair ticked your neck. "You came to see me because you can't drive home and my apartment is within walking distance of all the bars."
He pulled away and gave you a feigned look of hurt. "No. Thought 'bout you all night. Talked 'bout you all night," he said, leaning into the crook of your neck. His hands slid down from your waist to cup your ass and he groaned. "I like these," he murmured into your skin, his fingertips tugging playfully at the edge of your underwear.
And even though your body was responding to his touch, warmth blooming between your legs, your curiosity won. "What did you talk about?" you asked, biting on your lower lip when he pulled you closer, pressing you against his erection through his jeans.
"How fuckin' happy you make me. How I wanna spend my life with you. How sexy you are," he said lowly, gripping your jaw and giving you a sloppy kiss.
"Oh, wow, spend your life with me? You really are drunk," you giggled after you pulled away. "Let me make you something to eat."
You managed to wiggle out of his grasp and walk towards the kitchen area, flicking on lights as you went and opening the fridge. "Leftover pizza okay?" you asked, pulling out the cardboard box and flipping the top open before grabbing some foil to lay down in your toaster oven.
"What'dya mean? I ain't that drunk. 'Course I wanna spend my life with you," he said, leaning up against your counter, watching you work.
You turned the dial on the toaster oven and popped in two slices of leftover takeout pizza before turning around to face him. "We met four months ago and you want to spend your life with me?"
His eyes suddenly appeared clearer when he looked at you. "Yeah. 'Course I do."
You gave him a look before pulling a plate down from your cupboard.
"What? You don't believe me?"
You put the plate down and shook your head.
"It doesn't matter," you told him, wrapping your arms around his neck and dragging him down for a kiss, but he pulled back before you could make contact.
"I mean it," he told you, sounding serious. "Already got the ring."
Your eyes bugged out of your head and your eyebrows shot straight up. "What?!"
"I'm just kiddin'," he said immediately when he saw your reaction, something flickering across his face for a split second before the toaster oven beeped and distracted you. You pulled your arms away, turning around to check his food when you felt his arms wrap around your waist from behind.
"I'm only hungry for one thing," he whispered in your ear, the ring comment suddenly long forgotten. You leaned back into his chest, pulling his pizza out of the oven while he nipped at your earlobe.
"Why don't you eat some actual food," you offered, turning around in his arms with a playful smirk. "And then you can have me for dessert?"
A wide smile stretched across his face and he nodded. "Deal."
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"Fuck, Joel," you whined, his face buried between your legs, your fingers tangled in his curls as he dragged another orgasm to the surface. You were confident at this point you've never wanted anybody the way you wanted him. You kept waiting for that honeymoon period to end, but somehow each time with him was just more intense than the last.
Your head fell back against your cupboard while you cried out his name, your thighs clutching his head as a rush of white hot heat flooded your body, little whimpers slipping past your lips until he finally pulled away. Your legs dropped shakily onto the counter as you struggled to catch your breath. He watched you try to recover with a pleased smirk on his face, wiping away your slick with the back of his hand. You gazed at him, your mouth open and panting for air, your eyes half closed and filled with need.
"Fuck me, Joel," you gasped, slipping down from the counter, your underwear lost somewhere on the floor. He groaned and crashed his mouth over yours, giving you a taste of yourself while his hands greedily reached down to lift you up, carrying you towards your bed.
"Shit," he muttered when he stumbled a bit, and you weren't sure if it was his excitement or the alcohol to blame but you giggled nonetheless.
He dropped you unceremoniously onto your bed before he got to work stripping himself of his clothes. He seemed to be struggling with his belt but when you kneeled on the mattress and pulled your tank top off, his fingers magically began to work faster at the leather. He hopped on one foot, kicking his jeans off in a hurry and making you laugh before he stood up straight against the edge of your bed and cupped your face with both his hands, pulling you in for a kiss and stealing all the air from your lungs.
He broke away but kept his nose pressed against yours, your face still held delicately in his large hands as he whispered, "need y'so bad, baby."
Your eyes drifted down between your bodies and you raised an eyebrow at his painful looking erection pressed up against your stomach. "You don't say," you teased, and he smirked before giving you one more soft kiss on the lips. He dropped his hands to your shoulders and gave you a gentle shove, indicating he wanted you to lay down, but you bit your lip and shook your head before twisting around, propping yourself up on all fours and looking back at him over your shoulder. "Like this," you told him, and a low groan rumbled deep within his chest as he stared down at you.
"You tryin' to kill me?" he asked, bringing his palms up to glide smoothly over your ass, giving one cheek a little squeeze. "I ain't gonna last long like this."
"You weren't gonna last long, anyway. Not with all the beer you drank tonight," you replied with a grin.
He chuckled and spread his legs a little wider before bending his knees and lining himself up with your entrance. When you felt the familiar fat tip of his cock notched against you, you sucked in a deep breath. Joel was normally a lot to take, but from this angle, you knew it would be even more intense.
He pushed inside with a grunt, giving you time to adjust when he heard your sharp gasp before sliding all the way inside and bottoming out with a low groan. Looking down at your ass flush with his hips, he knew he was a goner. The muscles in his stomach were already twitching and tensing and he barely even moved yet.
Your eyes squeezed shut and you pressed your mouth into your shoulder, stifling your whimpers while your body slowly relaxed around his girth.
"Y'okay, baby?" he murmured, his fingers flexing around your hips the only movement he allowed himself to make, patiently waiting for you to get comfortable.
"Mhm," you whined, then rolled your head to the side and arched your back a little, stretching yourself around him. "Just so big. So fucking big, fuck," you gasped when you felt him pulse inside you from the compliment.
"Don't talk like that, c'mon," he groaned, closing his eyes. Baseball. Tommy. Hanging drywall. Do not fucking come.
You looked at him over your shoulder, a lazy smile twitching at your lips when you saw his closed eyes and the pained expression on his face. Something about being able to pull him apart like this made you feel powerful, so you decided to have a little fun. You began to slowly move your hips, keeping your eyes on him as you rocked back and forth. His fingertips dug into your waist and his eyes flew open.
"W-wait-"
You sunk your teeth into your lower lip and moved a little faster, watching as his eyebrows pinched together and his breathing became erratic. "Why?" you asked innocently, fluttering your eyelashes at him.
"Stop, baby. Fuck, I'm-" he hissed and tried to pull out but you pushed yourself back on him further before he could move. "I'm gonna come, it's too soon," he whined, his face contorted in embarrassment.
"Joel, look at me," you commanded, slowing to a stop so he could focus. His chest was heaving and his fingertips were most definitely leaving bruises in your skin as he tried to fight off his climax. "You already made me come twice in the past thirty minutes. Now I want you to fuck me exactly like you want to and I don't care if you come in ten seconds or ten minutes. Can you do that for me?"
His eyes darkened a bit and the corner of his mouth turned up into half a smirk.
"Yes," he murmured, finally allowing his gaze to drop to your ass and you saw him swallow before taking a deep breath. In an instant his hips started snapping into you, almost making you fall forward but you quickly braced yourself. Your mouth hung open, hardly able to make a sound when your entire focus was on the way he managed to reach the furthest depths of you with each devastating stroke. One of his hands gripped your shoulder, the other still planted firmly on your waist as he slammed you back against his hips with each thrust, your skin smacking together so loudly you barely heard him grunting each time he knocked the wind out of you.
The hand he had placed on your hip slid to your lower back and he gently pressed his palm down, his pace still merciless when he whispered "can'ya arch your back a little more, baby?"
You could hardly form a coherent thought let alone sentence, so you did as you were asked without answering. Based on the loud groan you heard, he was pleased.
"Oh fuck, oh fuck," he chanted, breathing heavily behind you as you did your best to hold yourself up against his ruthless pace, but you could feel your legs getting weak. He suddenly fell forward and wrapped his arms around your ribs, yanking you up with a yelp so your back was flush against his chest and his mouth was pressed against the shell of your ear.
Your hands tried to grab his weakly, looking for some part of him to hold onto when he moaned into your hair and his body stilled momentarily, his hips stuttering as he flooded you with his release. Neither of you moved as you each fought to catch your breath, your head falling back against his shoulder. His heavy breathing was loud against your ear, then his chest eventually slowed down and his heartbeat returned to normal. Your legs began to tremble so he tightened his hold around you, holding you even tighter against him.
"I got you," he whispered, leaning forward so you could relax tiredly into your mattress. He pulled out with a soft grunt before collapsing next to you, stretching his arms wide. You crawled into his embrace and buried your face against his chest with a contented sigh.
"Too much?" he asked, his voice sounding a little hoarse as he drew invisible circles on your shoulder with his thumb. You shook your head and closed your eyes. "You're so fuckin' perfect, y'know that? How'd I get so lucky?" he asked softly, and you smiled. "You feed me 'n then you fuck me. What else could a man want?" he joked, and you giggled in his arms.
"Don't forget you went down on me in between those two things. You're pretty damn perfect, too."
He hummed and pulled your comforter over you both, making sure you were all tucked in and warm.
"I love you, baby."
"I love you, too," you whispered sleepily.
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9:13am
Your phone rang shrilly on your nightstand, startling you both out of your deep sleep in surprise.
"Oh, Jesus, fuck," Joel mumbled, his hands immediately coming up to clutch his head. You sat up, holding the comforter against your chest as you groggily reached for your phone, knocking over a framed picture of you and Joel in the process. When it clattered loudly to the floor, he groaned.
"What?" you snapped angrily when you answered your phone, not even looking to see who was calling.
"Buck! It's happening!"
Your heart skipped a beat and you gasped, making Joel drop his hands from his face to look at you curiously.
"Now?!"
"Yes, now!" your sister, Cassie, replied on the other end. "We're on our way to St. Dave's. Mom and Dad are already on the way."
"Oh my god!" you yelled, throwing the comforter off yourself and running to your closet completely naked. Joel sat up and gawked as you used one hand to pull out fresh clothes, tossing them on the bed frantically and although he could tell it was an emergency, he couldn't stop staring at your perfect fucking body.
"W-where do I go? The emergency room or labor and delivery?"
Joel threw his legs over the side of the bed and tried to shake away his massive hangover before standing up slowly and hunting down his clothes.
"Okay, okay. I'll be there in like," you looked at your clock quickly, "twenty minutes."
You hung up and threw your phone on your bed before grabbing your underwear and pulling them on, much to Joel's dismay.
"Cassie's in labor!" you said, rushing past him in just your bra and underwear.
"I gathered," he said with a yawn. "You got any Motrin? The hospital's got a coffee spot, right? Starbucks or somethin'?"
You popped your head out of the bathroom and handed him the bottle of medicine. "You're coming with me?"
"Yeah, 'course I am," he said, popping two pills and swallowing them dry. "Unless you don't -"
"No!" you said hurriedly, disappearing back in the bathroom. "I want you to! I just thought you'd have to go home to Sarah."
"She's at a friend's house the whole weekend. It's why Tommy dragged me out in the first place. Said I never spend time with him when we work together all damn day," he muttered under his breath before sniffing his shirt from the night before and making a face. "This smells like the floor of a bar."
"You have some spare clothes here, remember? In the third drawer," you told him as you dried your face and started to brush your hair into a ponytail. He went to your closet and opened the dresser, smiling when he saw the entire drawer was devoted to just his things before picking out a fresh outfit and a stick of deodorant, hoping it would be enough because there was no way he would have time for a shower.
"Do I still stink?" he asked worriedly when you walked by, shrugging on a shirt. You stopped and sniffed him, then grinned.
"You smell like sex."
He smirked and raised an eyebrow. "Well, in that case, I'm ready to go."
"At least brush your teeth, you animal," you teased, shoving him towards the bathroom with a laugh. He stumbled into your small bathroom and found the spare toothbrush you bought for him. As he quickly brushed his teeth, he ran his fingers through his messy hair, trying to tame the bedhead to no avail. After he rinsed, he wet both his hands and ran his fingers through his hair a few times, slicking his curls back to make himself look more presentable.
When he was satisfied, he met you out in your kitchen, your face buried in your phone as you furiously texted your family. You glanced up at him and did a double take when you saw his hair.
"Oh, I like that look," you said lowly, reaching out a small hand to gently touch his wet hair, and he grinned. "It's not fair. If I were hungover as shit, I would look like road kill, and here you are looking more handsome than ever," you told him, pecking a kiss to his lips before grabbing your bag and heading to the door.
"You must've seen some real pretty roadkill if you think that," he told you, following you out the door and draping an arm around your shoulders as you headed to the elevator. "Want me to drive?"
"Yeah, if you don't mind," you said, handing him your car keys before tapping away on your phone again. "My mom's telling me where we should park."
Joel courteously dropped you off at the hospital entrance while he parked your car, giving you the opportunity to find your parents quicker. You saw your dad waiting for you by the front desk, his head tilted down towards his phone.
"Dad!" you called out, and he looked up at you with a smile. Slipping his phone in his pocket, he bent down and enveloped you in a big bear hug. Your dad, Paul, was a big guy and might come off intimidating to most who didn't know him, but at the heart of it all he was a huge softie.
"How's she doing?" you asked, pulling away while he stabbed the button for the elevator.
"She's doin' alright. Little nervous but she's ready."
When you noticed the elevator about to reach the lobby, you glanced behind you. "Wait! Joel's parking the car," you said, and his eyebrows rose a bit in surprise.
"Oh, didn't realize Joel's here," he replied, glancing at his watch, and you immediately felt the heat creeping up your neck.
"He was out with his friends and brother last night. He had too much to drink and couldn't drive so he walked to my place," you told him, which wasn't exactly a lie. When you saw Joel walking through the lobby, his hands shoved in his pockets and his hair slicked back, you felt the same flutter in your stomach you felt every time you saw him and you prayed it would never go away.
Joel's gaze landed on you first and then your dad's, giving you both warm smiles as he approached.
"Hey Paul, early congratulations are in order," he said, shaking your dad's hand just as the elevator dinged behind you.
"Thanks, Joel," he replied, clapping him on the back and following you into the elevator. "Heard you had a fun night last night."
Joel's eyes went wide and the blood drained from his face as his gaze darted back and forth between you both.
"The bar. With Tommy and them," you reminded him, and his shoulders visibly relaxed.
"Oh, yeah. Too much fun. Feelin' it today," he said, rubbing his forehead. "Tommy met a girl, though. Got her number, if I recall, so maybe that'll get him off my back. Can't drink the way I used to."
"A girl? That's great. Maybe y'all can double date or somethin'," your dad said, stepping through the open elevator doors when you reached labor and delivery. "Now she's only allowed two visitors plus Josh, so why don't you go back and we'll swap out after a while. It's room 663."
"Okay," you said, turning to Joel. "I'll be back soon, I just want to check on her-"
"Take your time," he told you, kissing the top of your head. "I'll get us some coffee and somethin' to eat."
You smiled in relief and hurried past the swinging doors, eager to see your sister.
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12:26pm
The strong, over-caffeinated coffee Joel drank managed to quell his nasty hangover. You had swapped out with your dad once already, gratefully accepting the breakfast he bought while you updated him on your sister's status. From what he gathered, her water broke but she wasn't dilated enough yet. It had been quite a few years, but Joel remembered when Sarah was born and how long it took. When his ex went into labor, they both thought they had to rush to get to the hospital, assuming the baby would arrive quickly but it ended up taking a day and a half before Sarah was actually born.
"You don't have to stay, you know," you told him after a few hours. "I know this is boring and there's nothing to do. I'm sure you have things to do at home-"
"I wanna be with you," he said, cutting you off. "If I went home I'd just be sittin' around wonderin' what you're doin', so I think I'll stay if that's alright by you."
You gave him a shy smile and looked away, and goddamnit you looked so beautiful every time he made you blush.
The double doors swung open and your dad emerged, holding out his arms to his sides with a smile.
"Still the same," he announced, and both your faces fell. "Tag, you're it," he teased, tapping you on the shoulder before you stood up.
"I'll be back in a while," you told Joel, stretching your arms a bit. "But seriously, if you want to go home it's totally fine. You can take my car and my parents can take me back."
"I told you, I ain't goin' anywhere," he said firmly, "now go be with you sister, she needs you."
You smiled and blew him a quick kiss before pushing past the doors. He looked over at Paul, who was scrolling on his phone, and took a deep breath.
It was now or never, and he might as well do it while your dad was in a good mood.
"Hey, Paul, can I talk to you 'bout somethin'?"
Paul looked up and clicked the button on the side of his phone, the screen going dark.
"Sure. What's on your mind, Joel?"
Joel knew Paul long before he even knew you. He met your parents when he was hired to build their house, which took a very long time and was a lot of hard work, but he loved being able to bring to life what someone could only dream about. He always got along well with your parents, so much so that they invited him to their Christmas party, which was when he met you and his life changed forever.
And even though he knew your father well and he had no reason to be nervous, he still felt butterflies in his stomach as he thought about what he wanted to say.
"Well, it's 'bout your daughter," he began, his fingers fidgeting anxiously in his lap as he struggled to maintain eye contact.
"Bucky? Everythin' okay?" Paul asked, suddenly looking concerned. Joel quickly shook his head.
"She's great. Nothin' bad. We're... great," he stammered, taking another deep breath. "I love her very much. I'd do anythin' for her, I hope y'know that," he said, hoping his voice didn't tremble like he thought it did. "We're plannin' on movin' in together when her lease is up in a few months, I think she told you," Joel said, looking up at Paul questioningly. He nodded slowly, his brow beginning to furrow a bit.
"Yeah, she told us. We think that's great, Joel. You know we love havin' you part of the family," he told him, and Joel felt a bit of relief when he saw his opening.
"That's exactly what I wanted to talk 'bout, actually," he said, and Paul tilted his head to the side, confused. "'Bout bein' part of the family, that is. I-I'd like to ask her to marry me - with your blessing, of course," Joel said hurriedly, "and not straight away. I was thinkin' when she moved in I might ask her then. I know it's soon, I know we've only been datin' a few months, but Paul, I gotta be honest with you, she's the one for me," Joel said, the words tumbling out now as he watched Paul's eyes go soft. "I've never been more sure 'bout anythin' in my life. And I promise I'll take care of her, I'll love her and give her whatever she needs. I'll never do wrong by her, you got my word-"
"Joel," Paul chuckled, waving his hands in the air. "Joel, that's enough. You don't gotta sell yourself to me. I know you're a good man, I see how happy you make my daughter, I ain't blind. 'Course you have our blessing. Christ, nothin' would make us happier."
"Really?" he breathed as a smile stretched across his face, his hands trembling now in his lap.
"Yes, really. The hell you so nervous for?"
"Well, figured you'd be upset 'bout her last engagement and how we haven't known each other long," Joel admitted, running a shaky hand through his hair.
Paul shook his head and made a face. "That last guy never even had the guts to ask me. I had a feelin' it wouldn't last, but I had hoped my little girl would be the one to end it on her terms. But it all worked out, anyway. She met you," he said, grabbing Joel's shoulder and giving it a firm shake. "You might've only known her for a few months but I've known you years and I know the type of man you are. I see the way you look at each other. Reminds me of when I met Martha," Paul said, his eyes growing misty. "When you know, you know."
Joel smiled and blinked back tears of his own. "Yeah, you're right. When you know, you know."
Paul leaned forward and pulled Joel into a tight hug, squeezing the air from his lungs in the process but he didn't care. He had your father's blessing, that was the first hurdle. Now all he had to do was find enough courage to ask you to marry him one day.
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5:48pm
"You havin' fun, babygirl?" Joel asked into his phone as he paced the halls of the hospital.
"So much fun, Dad. It's supposed to be warm out tonight so we're all gonna sleep outside in tents and have a campfire."
"Now why are you excited to sleep outside with your friends but when I wanna go camping you always say no?" he said, smirking when he heard her groan.
"Because I'm still within walking distance of indoor plumbing," she shot back, making him chuckle softly.
"Yeah, well, y'got me there," he conceded, his eyes flicking up when he noticed you walk through the doors, scanning the lobby looking for him. He held up his hand and when you saw him, your mouth stretched out into a tired smile.
"How's Cassie?"
"Nothin' new but I think I might be gettin' an update here in a second," he said, eyeing you as you hurried up to him. "You call me if you need anythin' at all, alright?"
"I will."
"Okay, love you," he said right as you caught up to him.
"Love you too, Dad."
He dropped the phone from his ear and slid it back into his pocket. "How's she doin'?"
"She's getting ready to push!" you said excitedly, grabbing his arm as you bounced on the balls of your feet. "I was just giving them a few minutes of privacy but she said she wants me to hold one of her hands. The doctors said you and Dad can wait outside the room if you want," you told him, pulling him back down the hall towards your father, who was already waiting with a nervous look on his face.
"How're you holdin' up?" Joel asked Paul, who looked paler the closer he got. You let go of his arm and he followed you down the hospital corridor, making sure to stay out of the way of the passing medical staff.
"I'm 'bout to be a grandpa, Joel. I'm feelin' every emotion there is right now," Paul said with a nervous laugh.
Even though his hangover was still a very fresh memory, he still said, "why don't we get a drink later on and celebrate? Help take the edge of a bit."
Paul clapped Joel's shoulder, giving it a tight squeeze and making him wince, but Paul didn't notice. His eyes were fixed on a door at the end of the hall. "That sounds like a plan, son."
Joel choked up for a moment at the term of endearment but quickly swallowed it down. This was about Cassie and Josh, not him. But still, the fact Paul felt comfortable calling him son during such a pivotal moment in his life touched him.
"Okay, I'll come out and let you know how it goes," you said, turning around to face the two of them. It melted Joel's heart, the way you were so happy and excited for your sister.
"Alright Bucky, you take care of our girl," your dad said, planting a kiss on the top of your head. You turned to Joel and he shot you a wink.
"Go on, now," he told you with a smile, and you gave him a quick kiss on his cheek before disappearing inside the room.
It took nearly one more hour, but after hearing a lot of screaming and crying from your sister, there was a brief silence before the telltale sound of a newborn's cries filtered through the door. Joel's eyes widened when he looked at Paul, who immediately began to tear up. Joel grinned and patted him on the back but he was quickly yanked into a bear hug so tight he wondered how he didn't fracture a rib.
"Congrats," Joel said, his voice a little pained, but Paul didn't notice. He was far too excited as tears of joy spilled down his cheeks.
Josh stumbled through the door wearing a disposable apron and cap, looking shellshocked as he yanked off a blue mask. Paul grabbed him and pulled him into a fierce hug, making his eyes bug out of his head even more and Joel had to stifle a chuckle.
"It's a girl," Josh said, a smile stretching across his face now. Paul laughed and wiped away his tears while Joel shook Josh's hand and congratulated him. "They're both doing great. Cassie's great. The baby's great. Perfect. Oh my god, I'm a dad," he said, suddenly bending over, his hands gripping his knees as he breathed deeply.
Paul laughed and rushed into the room, leaving just Joel and Josh in the hallway.
"You alright?" he asked Josh, putting a hand on his shoulder to help steady him.
"Yeah. It just kinda hit me all at once, y'know?" he said weakly, falling limply into a chair. "How'd you do it, man? Weren't you freaking out?"
"Oh, yeah. I still freak out," Joel admitted, sitting down next to Josh. "Havin' a girl is hard. They are unpredictable and independent but also so amazing and strong."
"You got any advice for being a girl-dad?" he asked, half joking.
Joel grinned and leaned his head against the wall as he scratched his chin and thought about it.
"Encourage her. Let her be herself. Let her paint your nails and make mistakes. Play tea parties with her and listen to her. Don't lie to her. Do your best. Show her love. Make sure she sees how you and Cassie love each other. Treat her with respect, but don't assume anythin'. Wear the tiara. Wear the boa. Just... be there. Because a father's love for his daughter is special. Look at Paul," Joel said, stretching his arm out towards the closed door. "He hasn't left this building all day. He raised two beautiful, smart, well rounded women who he would go to war for but also lets them be themselves. Lets them make their own choices and doesn't hold 'em back. Just... love her, man," Joel said, tilting his head in Josh's direction. He had been quietly listening to everything he said, absorbing every word before taking a deep breath.
"Thanks, Joel," Josh said with tears in his eyes. "I mean it. Thanks."
Joel slapped him on the back with a wide smile.
"No problem. Now get in there and help your wife."
Josh stood up and looked down at Joel. "Aren't you coming?"
Joel stood and followed Josh inside the crowded room, which was currently being vacated by the hospital staff so everyone could bond with the new family member.
But what Joel wasn't expecting to see was you holding the newborn in your arms, seated in a chair next to Cassie's bed as you gazed down lovingly at your niece.
Something tugged inside Joel's chest when he saw you. Something foolish and primal and earth-shattering. You looked up at him and smiled.
"Look, Joel. Meet Anna," you said, your gaze finding hers once again, and Joel looked at you, praying his face didn't give away what he was feeling in that moment.
"She's gorgeous," he whispered to Cassie, then went to stand behind your chair so he could admire Anna's sleeping face.
Paul was snapping pictures while Martha was on her phone talking to extended family, letting them know the good news. Josh pressed a kiss against Cassie's lips and murmured what a great job she did, but all Joel could see was you and Anna. You looked so at ease as you cradled her in your arms, like you were made for it and he felt his throat close up.
You finally handed her back to her mother but made sure to press a quick kiss against her forehead first.
"We should probably let you guys get to know each other," you said, giving Cassie a half hug.
"Thank you so much, Bucket," Cassie said softly, looking down at her baby. "I couldn't have done it without you. Thank you for being here, Joel," she added, and he smiled.
"'Course I'd be here. You're like family to me," he said sincerely, and she gave him a tired smile.
You blew Cassie a kiss and gave your parents a hug before grabbing his hand and leading him out the door.
"Well that was an unexpected way to spend a Saturday," you said, wrapping your arm around his bicep as he lead you to the elevator.
A flurry of thoughts swam through his head as he walked you through the parking garage to your car, but he kept them all to himself. It was an eventful day, you were right. You just had no idea how much.
"Did you want to stay the night?" you asked him when he parked your car, and he felt the butterflies swirl in his stomach. He wanted nothing more than to spend every second with you, but he made a promise.
"Yeah, but I mighta made plans," he confessed, and you gave him a look as you stepped out of the passenger side of your car. "Told your dad I'd take him for a drink to celebrate," he told you, and you rolled your eyes.
"After last night? You're willing to drink again so soon?" you teased as he walked you into the lobby of your building.
"Just one drink. Then I'll be back, and this time I won't sneak up on you," he murmured, pressing a slow kiss against your soft lips.
"Better not, or else I might not be so nice this time," you whispered against his lips, making him groan.
"You were real nice," he said lowly, his cock already twitching in his jeans. "Give me a couple hours and I'll return the favor."
"Is that a promise, Mr. Miller?" you asked playfully just as the elevator dinged and the doors slid open.
And maybe it was because he was so tired, or maybe all of the emotions from the day were building up inside him like a dam ready to burst, but the urge to ask you right then and there was overwhelming. He had never felt so strongly about anything in his whole life. But he had to be careful, especially after your reaction to his comment about the ring. He had to be patient, he had to think about the timing. He had to do it right.
"Yes, ma'am," he finally replied, his tone so serious it made you grin.
You stepped backwards onto the empty elevator, holding his gaze and with a mischievous glint in your eye, you winked.
"I'll be waiting."
Then the doors slid shut, leaving him paralyzed. He had to fight the urge to race up the stairwell and meet you at your door, all breathless and needy, but he forced himself to exit your building. As he strolled down the street, heading towards where he parked his truck the night before and silently praying he didn't get a ticket, he thought about the hold you had over him. It was powerful and intense. Alluring and confounding. Debilitating and staggering.
And he absolutely loved it.
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lunaelemon · 3 days
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ᥫ᭡ Slut alert- Having him fuck you dumb wasn't enough, now you gotta fight your low iron levels too?
Maybe riding him wasn't the best idea when you have anemia but it was worth it~
MDNI
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"Tired already, precious?" His breathless voice reached your ringing ears as you moaned softly, biting on your lower lip to suppress it as his hips bounced you up and down on his dick. The fat, thick base of his cock stretching you out as your hips crashed with his with each bounce, every squelch and every moan.
It was all fun and games until you opened your eyes to look down at him, maybe tease him a bit about his whiny moans when you almost lurch forward from dizziness, somehow holding back by squeezing your eyes shut, black spots taking over your vision as you gasped every time the curve of his dick rubbed against that one particular spot, basically kissing your cervix while you struggled to get words out of your lips.
His cock fucking the words out of you as your mind was rendered dumb, drunk on the way his hips rolled against you, the way his voice called you filthy names, his rough hands playing with your bouncing tits as his name rolled from your tongue like a mantra.
He fucked you mean, fucked you mean enough for you to feel more stimulated by his dick than the constant blackening of your vision everytime you opened your eyes.
"Fuck fuck fuck toru...m'gonna cum....cock reaching so deep fuckkk"
His hair was sticking to his forehead as he let out a low chuckle, smirking at the way your eyes rolled back every time he abused that spot with his dick, pressing up against it, pushing you down on his cock as it squelched around his girth.
Taking in his inches so fucking good. His nasty girl.
"Look at me baby. Wanna look in your pretty eyes while you milk me, hm? Fuckin' me nasty, lemme look at your eyes, okay?"
You swallowed back as you tried opening your eyes only to see black, everything spinning around you, feeling lightheaded as he bounced you in a rhythmic motion.
His lithe fingers rubbing soft circles on your clit, squeezing out whimpers from you as your thighs trembled from exhaustion.
"Your pussy is making such pretty noises for me, such a pretty tune"
Filthy, nasty fucker
You closed your eyes again, much to his suspicions as he frowned at your reluctance to follow his requests...orders
"Can't...just...just lemme cum please" you whined out, you didn't want to stop just yet due to this shitty condition.
"Babe? What happened"
His thrusts stopped abruptly as you let out a loud whine, trying to grind against him only to have him hold you down by your waist, leaving angry red marks as you begrudgingly stopped.
"Fu-ckkkk toru..just a lil bit more...just feel a little lightheaded-"
"I told you we don't have to do cowgirl, your body isn't fit enough for it. Wait let me bring you some water."
"Why did you let me fuck you through it"
His voice was stern and authoritative as he just proved his own point as to why you didn't tell him mid fuck, rolling your eyes at his words.
He swiftly pulled out of you, leaving your aching hole empty, making you whimper as you slumped on the bed on your stomach, chest heaving from exhaustion as your legs trembled from being this close to orgasm seconds ago.
"Here you go"
As you drank from the glass, you noticed him staring at you, his eyes seemingly making a decision as they glanced all over your sweaty mess of a body.
"Only missionary for you now. I don't want you to bounce on my cock, fighting your orgasm and your low iron levels"
"Ugh come onnn, it's not that bad toru"
"Nuh uh, and I'm looking into your diet starting today."
He placed the glass on the bedside table, before continuing his next sentence. He always had so much to say -
"Now lay down on your back sweetheart, finish what you were doing before"
Well that worked out, but obviously in missionary
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ᥫ᭡ Authors note - I kinda wanted to make it a headcannon for all jkk men but I got impatient cuz this is so brainrotting, this is so filthy omg
Masterlist
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© lunaelemon. do not copy or repost any of my writing, layouts, or concepts.
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dilemmaontwolegs · 3 days
Text
Not A Verstappen: Lights Out {9}
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: You finally find out just how perfect your boyfriends are as birthing partners. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, all the birthing glory one can expect (it’s not a pretty thing irl) WC: 3.3k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine NAV: A New World One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten NAV: Lights Out One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || 6.5 || Seven || SMAU || Eight || Nine NAV: Away We Go One
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You woke up to too much warmth but the thrill that shot through you washed away all lingering sense of sleep. Charles and Lando were curled around you having arrived home sometime during the night, replacing the giant Pokemon teddy that was dumped unceremoniously onto the floor beside Lando. 
“Lan,” you whispered, gently shaking his shoulder. A deep groan exhaled with a snore before he slowly blinked his eyes open and found you grinning down at him. “There’s my Winner.”
His smile was drowsy as he rolled onto his back and pulled you into his arms so your head could rest on his chest. His steady heartbeat thumped against your ear and you didn’t realise how quiet the nights had been without hearing that sound beneath your head. 
“Did it for you, babe.”
“Really?”
“Mhmm, I had to do something big to make sure you didn’t forget me while we were gone.”
“Showoff.” You giggled and draped a leg over his, cozying up as much as you comfortably could. “I missed you.”
“Missed you. Glad to see you are in one piece too. I knew my little girl would wait patiently for us to get home.” Lando carefully unwrapped himself from you and shuffled down the bed, brushing up the oversized Quadrant shirt you had stolen from his new merch line. “You can come out anytime now, sweetheart. The sooner the better, if you are ready. Please be ready.”
Lando waited a moment to see if he would get a kick in response but there was nothing and he sighed as he flopped back onto the pillow. “Silent treatment already.”
“She’s probably still sleeping,” you said as you kissed his disappointed frown. “You should go back to sleep too, baby.”
You carefully climbed over him but he caught your hips and trapped you straddling him. You couldn’t see clear enough in the dim light but you were sure his eyes were darkening as he hummed happily. “Can’t sleep with you teasing me like that.”
“Sorry to burst your bubble, but I was trying to get up to go pee.” You wiggled enough for him to bite his lip before swinging your leg off and dashing to the bathroom while he groaned at the loss of your body. 
“That wasn’t very nice,” you heard him whine as you closed the door. You would not miss the rapid fire bathroom breaks that came with the last trimester, that was for certain. 
The relief of emptying your bladder was short lived as you wiped and the loud sound of disgust you made had a thump sounding on the bedroom floor before quick feet sprinted into the bathroom, busting the door wide open. Lando squinted against the bright light before finding you still sat on the toilet with the tissue paper still in your hand. 
“What’s wrong? Is that blood? Shit, Charles!”
“Stop!” you hissed before he woke your mother up from her room down the hall. “It’s not…blood…at least I don’t think so…”
Charles skidded into the bathroom looking absolutely dishevelled as he tried to take in what he was seeing. “Amour, what’s wrong?”
“I think I’ve lost my mucus plug.”
“Mucus plug…” he murmured, rubbing his tired eyes as he mentally scanned the pregnancy books he had read with Lando. 
“Yes!” Lando shouted, his hand turning to an enthusiastic fist. “That means you might be going into labour soon.”
Charles’ eyes widened with excitement and they embraced each other with a laugh, proudly chatting about how their daughter was a good girl waiting for them to come home. 
“Excuse me,” you interrupted, clearing your throat. “Can I have some privacy?”
They looked a little sheepish and backed out of the bathroom, closing the door so you could finish your routine. It was only when you were washing your hands, facing yourself in the mirror that you saw the excitement in your own eyes. Praying the old wives tale was right, you dried your hands and stepped back into the bedroom. 
The bedside lamps glowed warmly and a cosy space was created for you on a mountain of pillows between the two men who nearly vibrated with anticipation. “Please don’t get your hopes up, it may still take days,” you said as you crawled up the bed.
“I know,” Lando replied while he fretted about getting the pillows in the right place to support your back and belly, as well as one between your knees. “You should try get as much sleep as possible while you can.”
Charles smiled at the doting father-to-be, falling even more in love with him. Lando had always been portrayed as the carefree one and the most immature driver on the grid, but this was the side the tv show never aired. Lando was a caretaker and a homemaker at heart, there was nothing he wouldn’t do for those he loved. 
When Lando looked up after tucking the blankets in around you he found Charles staring at him and lifted a brow in question. Charles just smiled and shook his head. “I am the luckiest man.” 
A smirk kicked up on Lando’s lips as he pointedly looked over you and him. “Debatable.”
“We are the luckiest men,” Charles compromised with a laugh before brushing his knuckles softly over your relaxed face. 
“Yes, we are.”
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“Charles, can you come help me?” 
The shower was steaming up after spending the last 15 minutes unsuccessfully shaving. The cloud of steam cleared out when he opened the glass door but as soon he saw the position you had got yourself into he barked out a laugh that drew Lando into the bathroom too. 
“Har-har, laugh it up,” you drawled. “I’m not having my baby’s first introduction to the world through a forest, now can one of you please help me?”
“Mon amour, I am sure women were giving birth before these were invented,” he said as he accepted the bright pink razor with an uncertain look on his face. “You don’t have to…uh…landscape.”
“Lando, will you please get rid of this bush before I call in the professionals?”
He was still eyeing up the length of your leg you had managed to kick up onto the lowest recessed shelf that had a few half empty bottles of shampoos knocked over. Even with the position you hadn’t been able to reach around your belly to get to the place you wanted to. “Who are the professionals?” he asked curiously as he took the razor off Charles and got down on his knees. “Kika?”
“Of course.”
“I’ll never understand female friendships,” Charles chuckled, leaning back against the tiled wall to critique Lando. Your main focus was on balancing and keeping as still as possible because you did not want to get cut in such a delicate area - though it couldn’t be worse than what you had read about episiotomies during delivery. “Shave with the hair, same direction.”
“Sorry, not all of us have to shave daily,” Lando muttered sarcastically before holding the razor out. “Why don’t you do it then?”
Charles rolled his eyes but took it and knelt beside Lando. “Can you…?” You couldn’t see what he gestured to Lando but you got a fair idea when you felt Lando’s hands working with Charles to keep the skin taut, and mortifyingly, when he parted your folds to get the stray hairs that grew there. 
“I never want to talk about this,” you said as they both rose up and shared a laugh. 
“You might want to start trying to kick start labour then,” Lando teased. “You have about five days before it’s time for another trim.”
“If you have any ideas, I am all ears.”
As it turned out, his idea to kick starting labour was actually what had got you pregnant in the first place. Though you felt breathless and bloated, sex was a good way of distracting yourself of what was going to come because whether you were ready or not, a baby could not stay in utero forever. 
“Are you sure?” Charles asked when Lando suggested turning the lights down low and locking the bedroom door. They were both more than eager to reacquaint themselves with your body after being away but Charles was certain Lando had just made it up as an excuse to get laid. 
“Yes, I’m sure. I know I’m horny but it’s also true.”
You had let them towel dry you after washing away the shaving cream and let them bicker about the merits of the idea while you climbed onto the bed. You had been planning on getting up for the day after your shower but now that you were again in the soft sheets you realised how much more comfortable it was on your back. 
“...nipple stimulation, see, says it right here.”
You did a small ab crunch to peek over your stomach and saw Lando and Charles comparing their phones, but the small pressure the movement put on your belly caused a strange sensation between your legs. Warm liquid leaked over your thighs and onto the sheets and you thought you couldn’t get anymore embarrassed as you scrunched the sheets tight around your body. 
“Can I have a moment alone?” you asked quietly, their faces freezing at the question that interrupted their discussion on best positions to start with.
“Pourquoi? You know it won’t hurt the baby, you don’t have to worry, amour.”
“It’s not that,” you muttered, self-consciously hiding deeper in the covers.
“Don’t be shy, baby, you are still the most beautiful woman.”
You swallowed twice with your dry throat and shook your head as tears began to roll down your cheeks. “Please?”
“Non, what’s wrong?” They both stepped closer and froze when you cried even more, confusion, hurt, worry all flitting across their faces.
“I wet myself,” you whispered as you hid your face, “and I can’t move.”
Their phones were abandoned, all thoughts of lust erased for good reason as you waited for disgust to replace it. “You run the shower and I’ll change the sheets,” Charles said, taking charge. “Come on, amour, let’s get you cleaned up.”
“I can’t move,” you said with a vehement shake of your head. “It keeps leaking out.”
“Uh, baby,” Lando said as he reached for the sheets clutched in your hands. “That sounds like your waters have broken.”
The plans changed quickly when you finally loosened your grip enough to let Lando pull them away. The damp spot was much smaller than your mind had made you believe but when they helped you to stand up a full torrent of it gushed out. 
“Yup, time to call the midwife,” Lando said aloud as he confirmed you wouldn’t have to die of embarrassment. 
“On it,” Charles answered as he made the call while getting dressed. Lando still followed his first order and helped you back to the shower while Charles spoke in French, too quick for you to understand. 
By the time you had been washed for the second time in under an hour Charles had gathered the hospital bag and laid out some clothes for you and Lando. The bedsheets had also been stripped and dumped in the corner of the room but you still spotted the wet patch on the carpet beside the bed. 
“I’ll have someone clean it up before we get home,” Charles assured you with a kiss to your temple. “We should go tell your mother that it’s time.”
She reacted as expected, a squeal of happiness, a strong hug, a touch of worry, before more excited laughs. Parking at the hospital was always a nightmare so the plan was for her to drop you off outside the maternity ward and go to Pascale’s to wait for updates with her. 
Phones rang and messages beeped to the point you told everyone to put their phones on silent. As much as you were happy to hear the best wishes and updated on Lando’s family travelling from England, the sounds were messing with your concentration. 
It didn't feel like long but by the time you were dressed, the car was packed, you had chosen your snacks and your immediate family were contacted, almost two hours had passed. In those two hours the tight feeling in your back was getting more painful and no matter what position you were in, sitting or standing, there was no easing the aching pressure on your belly.
“Baby, come see this,” Lando called out, pointing to Max’s apartment. You shuffled your way to him with Charles offering his arm to steady your steps and found a large banner spread across your brother’s balcony. 
MODE: PUSH!
Despite the pain, you laughed as you saw him waving from the other tower apartment. You waved back before letting Charles guide you back inside. You took one last look around the apartment as you headed to the front door, knowing the next time you stepped foot inside it would no longer be just the three of you. The next time you returned, everything would change.
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It seemed too easy. The hours passed by with the numbing assistance of gas and air, and the shadows crossed the room as morning turned to afternoon. The birthing pool became your favourite space to relax until you were a wrinkled prune. Floating in the tepid water took the weight of your belly off your spine and Charles had a cloth that he dipped in and used to wipe the sweat from your forehead.
“Open up, baby,” Lando said softly as he took a seat at the edge of the oversized bath and held a fresh ice chip up to your lips.
Doctor Turner had arrived not long after the hospital midwives had settled you into the room and announced you were 5cm dilated. You thought that meant you were halfway but time seemed to slow in response. The doctor that had been your regular OB GYN since moving to Monaco was happy to take a backseat and let Lando and Charles take care of you. She actually seemed quite impressed with them, not as much as you were.
“Is it okay if we dim the lights?” Lando asked. He had noticed your eyes squinting against the harsh fluorescents overhead and Doctor Turner reached for the switch that was behind her makeshift desk she had taken up by the door. Her hand jotted down notes, twisting her wrist to check the time on her watch before writing more.
“That’s better,” you sighed as you opened your eyes and looked up at your boyfriends. “It’s a shame there’s no jets in this jacuzzi.”
Charles chuckled and dragged the wet cloth over your shoulders and collar. “You make this sound like a spa date, ma chérie.”
“You didn’t happen to bring a face mask, did you?” you teased.
“Sorry, wasn’t on the checklist,” Lando replied with a snort. “Do you want music on again?”
“I never would have pegged you to be a mother hen,” you murmured as you shook your head and smiled. “I’m okay right now.”
Another hour passed and that calm state soon came to an end as the contractions grew stronger, strong enough to take your breath away, and Charles had to remind you to inhale and exhale slowly. The plastic pipe full of gas started to dent beneath your gritted teeth as you bit down with each contraction and groaned deeply. The sound had Doctor Turner rising from her chair to check how far along you were.
Your self consciousness had recessed to the back of your mind as you focused solely on what you body was doing. It was almost the same tunnel vision you had when you were racing and the rest of the world faded away from the track in front of you. You didn’t even blink when her gloved hand dipped into the water and disappeared between your legs.
“Would you like to move to the bed? You’ll be ready to push soon.”
You shook your head as another wave of pressure clamped down on your abdominal muscles, contorting them until it felt like they were going to snap. Just as quickly as it came on the contraction ended and the pain vanished as you slumped back against the pool edge. Water splashed over the lip but Charles and Lando didn’t even notice as they flexed their hands you had clenched tight.
“Can I stay in here?”
“Of course,” she said with a reassuring smile as she took her gloves off. “We are going to do whatever is most comfortable for you.”
She went back to add the latest note to her records but rather than sitting down she returned back to the edge of the bath, a fresh pair of gloves on her hands and a towel on her lap.
“When you said soon…?” you trailed off as another painful contraction began and it felt like your body was going to split in two.
“Do you feel the urge to push?” she asked as she leaned over the edge to look.
You couldn’t answer her as your feet found purchase on the bath walls and braced, your body bearing down on its own accord. An arm curled under each of yours, holding you up as you pushed with more effort than any of the workouts Kristian had ever put you through.
“Lovely head of dark hair,” she said with a grin as the contraction ended and both of your boyfriends couldn’t resist taking a peek.
For all his bravado at preparing himself, Lando blanched a bit and they both shot back up.
“When the next contraction starts, I want you to give me a really big push, okay?”
You were exhausted, and you were sweating. God, you hated how it clung to your skin and warmed with your body heat. You just wanted to sleep.
“You’re doing great, Spitfire. It’s nearly over. Just a little more, baby.”
Charles washed your face and neck with cool water, and you realised you had spoken aloud.
There was no warning or build up as your muscles contracted and you folded over yourself, crunching up as you screwed your eyes closed and pushed. It felt futile. All the effort of the last couple of hours had nothing to show and you didn’t think you were anywhere near being finished. The painful stretch between your legs had you ready to tap out and ask for something stronger but then the pressure flooded from you and the breath you held whooshed out with it.
“Here she is,” Doctor Turner exclaimed as she lifted the tiny form out of the water and carefully laid her on your chest before draping the warm towel over the both of you. She gently rubbed your daughter and by the third pat a warbling cry filled the air.
It was only then that you could breathe. Suddenly you were present once again in your body and you could hear the soft cries echoed by Lando and Charles’ happy sniffles.
“She’s beautiful,” you whispered through your hoarse throat.
As if she recognised your voice, her little eyes peeked open and her cries settled. Flecks of gold broke through a myriad of green shades reminding you of when summer ended and the trees began to change colour and fall.
“Did you have a name picked out?”
You shook your head, unable to tear your eyes away from hers until your vision blurred and you had to blink away the tears. “I think I know one.”
“Yeah?” Lando asked as he carefully caressed her cheek like she was the most precious thing in the world. “What is it?”
“Autumn.” You looked up to see them both smiling at the name, your heart doing a little jump. “Autumn Norris-Leclerc.”
“It’s perfect, mon amour,” Charles agreed with a nod as he kissed your temple. “Princesse Autumn.”
“Ha!” Lando suddenly exclaimed, drawing everyone’s attention to him and his proud grin - but it was aimed at Charles. “Told you my pullout game was better than yours.”
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