#we finished like a week or so ago and it like. flipped a switch in my brain or smthn kjsnfksjf

[swingstep]

Dude, you insert yourself into my life by making Epithet Erased stuff, then you start doing Kirby and Mad Rat Dead stuff, AND NOW YOU’RE DOING CELESTE!?!?

Btw, how far are you, because I don’t want to accidentally spoil you in my excitement.

B) the epithet to madrat to celeste pipeline is real adn we are Living It(tm)

but!! im all complete w celeste minus farewell (which i watched a walkthrough of because. sweats.) so no worries about spoilers for me! v kind of ya t ask!! ^w^

#i got it in a bundle n my friend told me abt a multiplayer mod so we played it together <333 #we finished like a week or so ago and it like. flipped a switch in my brain or smthn kjsnfksjf #pikasks

[crypticreid]

KINKTOBER DAY FIVE

October 17 -- Breeding

masterlist

author's note: sorry this is so late. i came down with a little bug or something on sunday and was down all day monday too. but finally starting to feel better. this is shorter and not as edited as usual due to sickness. I've also switched out breeding with the planned prompt (squirting). that prompt will still happen, just later. thanks for reading <333

summary: You decide to revisit a previous conversation with Spencer and explore something new.

warnings: female reader, fingering, good girl usage, unprotected sex, dom!spencer, dirty talk

word count: 1.8k

this is adut content. 18+ plus only. minors do not interact!

“We need to talk,” you decide to just come out and say it. 

For the last week, you’ve been dropping hints to Spencer and waiting for him to understand what you are trying to say, but he hasn’t. The 187 IQ and the best profiling skills in the country didn’t do much when he was rather oblivious to subtleties. 

He’s sitting on the worn, well-loved couch of his apartment leisurely reading and finishing The Metamorphosis by Kafka for the millionth time, a pile of more books littering the coffee table in front of him.

“Spencer.” You say a little louder and he looks up from his book and smiles at you. 

“Hey, I didn't realize you were awake. Do you want breakfast?” 

“I need to talk to you,” you repeat yourself. 

He swallows nervously and you realize you might’ve taken a misstep in your delivery. “No, no it’s nothing bad.” You scramble to say and race over to the couch to sit beside him. The leather couch that you once jokingly said made you feel like you were in a psychiatrist’s office, creaks lightly as you position yourself so that you can face Spencer, your legs crossed in front of you. 

One of his hands reaches for one of yours and holds it, his thumb smoothing over your skin. “What do you need?” 

You take a deep breath to steady yourself. You weren’t nervous, but any sort of relatively serious conversation still made your stomach do little tiny flips. “Do you remember a couple months ago when we talked about… um,” you can feel yourself blushing. 

Spencer’s brows furrow and you can tell his mind is racing to try and remember any significant conversations the two of you have had. 

“In that hotel room.” You supply. 

He lets out a breath, “that doesn’t really help. We’re in hotels more than we’re at home.” 

You let out your own breath, frustrated at your inability to just come out and say what you want. You close your eyes and allow the words to spill forth, “when I wanted you to fuck me without a condom.” You squeeze your eyes in a grimace and then force them open. 

Spencer’s mouth is open, his cheeks pink and rosy. He blinks, closes his mouth, opens it, licks his bottom lip, and then shuts his mouth again. The hand holding yours tightens almost undetectably.  

“Spencer?” You whisper. 

He clears his throat, “I remember.” 

“Well, I’d like to revisit that conversation.” 

His back straightens, like he’s a professor who has just been asked to defend his entire life’s work. “Okay.” He nods, a few strands of errant hair falling across his forehead. You reach up and push the hair back into place. 

“Is that something you would be comfortable with?” You ask. 

“Having sex without protection?” He clarifies and you nod to confirm. He swallows and runs his free hand through his hair, clearly nervous. “I’ve never…” 

“I know.” You incline your head toward his and press a feather-light kiss to his lips and then sit back again. “We don’t have to if you don’t want, but –” 

“Is it something you want?” 

“Yes.” You squeeze his hand. 

“Do you want to get pregnant?” He asks point-blankly and it makes your stomach clench. You look away from his intense eye contact and you feel your body heat under his gaze. 

“No.” You say, which is the truth. “I’m still on birth control.” But you can’t help the way your body reacts to the idea. 

Spencer’s free hand reaches up and caresses your cheek, causing you to meet his eyes again. “I’m comfortable with it.” 

“Yeah?” 

He nods and you feel him guiding you closer to him. “Yeah,” he whispers right before your lips connect with his. You kiss him softly at first, trying to say a thousand words you didn’t have time to say through your kiss. He tells you just how much he loves you and you respond in kind. His hands have found their way to your hips, his thumbs brushing against your skin underneath your shirt and you feel your body immediately thrum to life. 

“I don’t want to be teased.” You say against his lips. He laughs, but instantly pulls back so he can take off your shirt. There are days that you spend hours with your bodies against each other, exploring, teasing, pleasuring. But you feel like you won’t last longer than fifteen minutes. You want him so bad. 

He pulls you onto his lap, his lips against one of your breasts, quickly pulling a nipple into his mouth. One of your hands grabs onto his shoulder, the other one tangles in his hair, pressing him against you, not allowing him to move. 

“Spencer, fuck.” You murmur and one of his hands slips into the band of your pajama pants. He gasps when he makes contact with your soaking center, but doesn’t waste any time before circling your clit. He lays kisses against your sternum, his jaw brushing against your skin, as he moves to your neglected tit. 

Your hold on him tightens when he perfectly times it as he takes your nipple between his teeth and plunges a finger into you. “I need you, please, Spencer.” You scramble to grind your hips against him, finding that delicious friction that you’re desperate for. 

“Do you want my cum, baby?” He asks, moving away from your breast, but still pressing his lips against any exposed skin he can find. 

Your hips falter only for a split second. This is new. A brand new exploration for the both of you, but you can’t deny how you push down harder on his finger and feel the heat at the base of your spine start to spread. You bite down on your bottom lip and nod. “Yeah, yeah. I want it.” 

“Then you’ve gotta do what I ask. Then you’ll get my cum like a good girl. Are you gonna be my good girl?” He pulls away from your skin completely and looks you in the eyes, you continue to push and grind yourself on his finger, but it isn’t enough. 

“Yes, yes. I’ll be – ah” you gasp as he adds a second finger. “Good girl.” You finish and he grabs your hip to stop your movement. 

“You’re gonna make yourself come with just my fingers, can you do that, baby?” You nod and feel yourself clench on him. He moves your hip for you, setting the pace and positions his hand inside you so that his palm grinds against your sensitive clit. 

“Fuck,” you moan and he inclines his head to nip at your neck. 

“That’s it, you’re doing such a good job. My good girl, aren’t you? So desperate for my cum.” 

You nod your head frantically, your breath and words coming out rapidly, “I am. I am.” 

He nips at your neck again, “I know you are.” He speeds up your hips. “I can tell you’re close, yeah, just keep doing that. So good.” He leans back to watch you fall apart on his fingers. 

He holds onto your hip tightly, guiding you through the blinding white pleasure coursing through you, as you moan his name. You jerk against him and he murmurs praise against your lips, kissing you and letting you rest against him. 

You pull away from him and reach between his body and your own and press a hand onto his rock hard bulge. He smirks. “I didn’t forget. That’s what you really want, isn’t it?” You nod and he’s pulling your pajama pants off of you and lifting his own hips to shed his pants as well. Your legs are on either side of his thighs and he trails his hands up your bare legs. But your eyes wander to his cock resting against him and you reach for him. 

“You’re sure?” He checks in with you one last time. 

“I want you so bad.” You grip his base and he tosses his head back with a moan. 

“I’m all yours, baby. Take me.” You guide him until you're hovering directly over his leaking head. He hisses at the simple contact with your wetness. “Keep going, don’t stop, please.” He mutters and you feel yourself clench at his words. You lower yourself completely on him, slowly, savoring the sensation. He leans his forehead against yours when he’s fully seated inside you. “You feel incredible.” 

You moan and grind against him, his hands flying to your hips, moving you against him again. As you move together, he starts to ramble. “If you want my cum, you're gonna have to work for it, love. That's it just like that. Fuck. Perfect. I can feel all of you. Every single inch of you. So tight. Yes, clench around me like that, squeeze me. I'll fill you up, baby, if you do that. Give you what you want. Get you pregnant.” 

You gasp and grind harder on him. 

“You like that, don’t you?” He mutters, biting at your shoulder. You nod, frenzied. “You want to be so full from me, yeah?” 

“Yes, yes, please.” He moves you faster, but your hips falter and stutter against him, losing your rhythm.

 “Come on, sweetheart. I thought you wanted me to come inside you.” 

You whimper, “I do. I do.” You try to find the pattern again, but you can’t because you’re too close. He groans against you and presses you against him. Suddenly, you're lying on your back on the couch, Spencer moving your legs so they wrap around his body and you pull him as close as possible to you. 

He’s impossibly slow at first, every single inch of him sliding into you and you arch up into him. Your hands grasp onto his shoulders and then scratch their way down his chest. “Please, Spencer.” 

He answers you by slamming into you. You lose your breath for a split second, but then relax into his steady pacing. He leans down to you, kissing you and muttering against your lips. “You’re gonna squeeze my cum out of me. It’s all yours, baby. I know you want it. Don’t you? You want all of it?” His thumb finds your clit and you come undone against him, just as he plunges into you and you feel him fill you. Your nails dig into his skin and he whimpers into the crook of your neck. As the two of you inch your way off the intense cliff of your pleasure, his hips slow and he pulls away from you. He lifts up and watches as he slowly pumps into you, fucking his come deeper into you. 

His eyes flick up to yours and he smiles and pulls out of you completely. He lays atop of you and kisses you deeply. His fingers trail across your cheek and into your hair. 

“We need a shower.” He laughs. You laugh with him. 

“And then food?” You ask. 

He makes a low sound of approval from his throat. “Sounds like a plan.” And kisses you again.

tag list: @spenciesprincess @catalinasroom @tylevx @alicentswife

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #my writing

[non-stop-imagines]

Handled

From this request (my 🍑 anon, luv u bby 💋)

Word Count: ~5.9k words w/ smau

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x Black Actress!Reader (@\badbrownskinn on ig face claim)

Warning: Smut (p in v, slight fingering), breeding kink went hard in this one, slight creampie kink but it's there nonetheless, Michael B. Jordan (I just feel like it needs to be warned that he is in here 😂), mention of pregnancy and babies, mentions of food and small mention of alcohol, Danny and Reader being ride or dies, Twitter environment, lots mention of Daniel touching Yn cause he loves them 😘Minors DNI!!! 18+

A/N: Hehehe, this one was a project, but I am SO GLAD that I have it done. 🍑 anon requested this before I even suggested having anon designations. They have been there though it all😭😘😘. So I really really really hope I did this idea justice. It was so great and I am just so thankful you entrusted this idea with me. I hope you all like it because we all need a little Danny in our life and I think this will satisfy it for a moment. Anyway, have a good weekend, and let's hope Suzuka is going to be a good race. Love you all!!!💖💛💖💛

A/N 2: All of the pictures used for the smau portions are all from pinterest and are not my own product.

Masterlist

___________

   "Now, tell me again why we are doing this?" You sit to tie your tan and white Jordan 1's, Daniel's hands soon replacing yours in the process, finishing the job for you on one foot and then beckoning for the other foot, which you give.

   "I'm leaving tomorrow for Faenza to do simulator work before the race the week after, so I made sure I left today fully open, and I continuously reminded you to keep today clear, so we can spend the day together, before I’m gone for 2 weeks straight and you have to stay here." He smiles briefly up at you then finishes tying before standing and, albeit unnecessarily, taking your hand to assist with you standing again. It was something he always did, but you knew why. Since getting married almost 2 years ago, he would grab your left hand to help you up, and you would always feel his thumb run over the ring on your finger, the sap.

   "Aw, you mush. You're so freaking cute, you know that?" You purposefully use your left hand to squeeze his cheeks. You loved the sight before you, manicured hands and shiny wedding ring wrapped around the scruffy, goofily smiling face of your husband, surprised his pupils weren't in the shape of hearts with how he was looking at you. You were going to bring his face in for a kiss, but instead his arms reach behind you to grip your ass pulling you in for a kiss, your arm trapped between you two and hand still on his face. A squeeze from Daniel's hand ended the kiss, you pulling away shocked from the sensation.

   "Boy, you always have your hands on my butt." You swat at him so he could let you go and you could go and grab a few more items before you left.

   "Because, we're married now. That's our butt." He smacks it as you walk by and then head to the kitchen to prepare your guys' matching water bottles for the day.

   "When you say all day, you mean all day. You only fill our waters when we won't be home for hours." You take your cup and take a sip from your straw as you walk out the door, which Daniel opened for you and straggled behind to lock before jogging to open the car door for you.

   "Need to stay hydrated. We're also getting coffee, and you know it makes you feel anxious unless you drink water as well." He makes sure you're in the car before closing the door and jogging to his side and climbing in. At first he doesn't start the car. He just looks at you as you file through your purse to make sure you had everything, a soft, dazed look in his eyes and a matching grin on his lips, but when you look at him it was like a switch flipped on behind his eyes, brightening both them and his smile. "Let's go have some fun."

______

   Daniel makes quick work of rattling of yours and his coffee orders to the starstruck barista. He was standing behind you, head on your shoulder and hands wrapped around yours as his arms circled around your waist to rest on your stomach.

    "Okay, and-um- w-will that be all for you two?" The barista's eyes were as large as golf balls and her hands were shaking as she repeated the order and gave the total. "Um, I love you two, by the way. I literally cried when I saw your wedding photos." Her voice was only an anxious whisper when she spoke, handing Daniel's card back to him.

    "They make him cry, too." You point your thumb back at your husband, and chuckle as you stuffed your phone back in your purse after quickly typing something out to your stylist.

   "I can't help that my wife is the most gorgeous woman alive and I am so lucky to have been the one that you decided to marry." Daniel basically says this all in one breath as he makes quick work of putting his card back in his wallet so he could wrap his arms around you again, thumb instinctively and sweetly caresses your stomach.

   “Your wedding dress was really pretty, and I just love you guys so much. I’m sorry, can I just get a picture of you two, I don’t even have to be in it. You guys are just so cute…” The barista began to shakily reach around for her phone and once she did grab it, you held out your hand.

   “Give me this phone, you are going to be in this picture.” You three, and any other employee around, huddled into the selfie and after loads of thank yous from you, Daniel, and nearly anyone else in the coffee shop, you both were back in the car and on your way to the next destination.

   “So, what next?” You take a sip of your drink and place it back in the up holder before reaching over to mess with the curls on your husband’s head.

   “Well, we have reservations at that brunch place that you have been wanting to try but we have never been not busy and in the same place to have time to do so. And then after that, I want to take you shopping and then I was thinking that we could try and go see a movie with anyone noticing us. And, yes, I did make sure to bring stuff we could use as costumes.” He turns his bright smile to you briefly but keeps his eyes on the road. All you could do for a moment was look at your husband with so much adoration it made your chest hurt.

   “Sounds like a plan, baby.” You grip his face to squeeze his cheeks and bring his face a bit closer so you could kiss the cheek closest to you. “Love you.” 

   Daniel comes up to a stop light that has been red for a while now, so knowing that the light was due to turn any moment, he quickly leans over and uses the hand closest to you to turn your head so he could capture your lips in a few sloppy kisses, somehow timing the end with the turn of the light perfectly, and continues to drive down the road while you looked at him shocked and slightly kiss-drunk. “Love you, too.”

yn_onscreen

Liked by gabunion and 182,939 others

yn_onscreen Oh my man I love him so...✨

tagged danielricciardo

View all 629 comments

danielricciardo Ms. Streisand would be flattered you used her song lyric

>yn_onscreen You knew it was game over when I watched that movie

hallebailey So you're outfit goals 24/7. Noted 📝

>yn_onscreen You and Chloe ain't nothing to sneeze at 🩷💁🏿‍♀️

user1 Love when Mom and Dad go on dates

user2 Yeeesssss FUNNY GIRL IS AMAZING AND YOU ARE TOO!💖

user3 Danny, tell me your secrets. How did you do it

>danielricciardo Let's just say she's a laugher

>user3 so it's confirmed, he saw THAT Tweet comment

__________

   "Hon? Honey?" There was a gentle nudging at your shoulder after hearing the soft whispering voice of your husband slowly coaxing you out of your slumber, then a few scratchy kisses to your exposed neck and shoulder, his hand intertwining with yours as he slowly guides his hands to rest on your tummy.

   "Hmm? Why are you up? What time is it?" You try to reach up to touch the silk scarf on your head, but realize Daniel had a grasp on your hands. Instead Daniel momentarily releases one of your hands to adjust it and then takes hold again.

   "It's 5:00am, baby. Sorry. I just wanted to let you know I was leaving for the airport." You roll over from your side to your back losing the grip Daniel had on your hands in an attempt to reach past him to turn on your lamp light, but he beats you to it, turning on the dim light.

   "Where are you going?" Daniel's heart melts at the whiny tone of your question, the answer of which you knew but since it was early and you were just waking up, it slipped your mind.

   "Faenza. Simulator work before next week's race." Daniel had knelt by the bed now, caressing your slumbersome face with his index finger.

   “Oh yeah. You’re leaving now?” You reach around him again to grab your phone, checking the time for yourself.

   “Yeah, in the next few minutes.” Your eyes have been fluttering open and shut since Daniel initially woke you up, but they finally settled on staying closed when you felt Daniel climb into the bed, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck and head tucked into his chest, getting deep whiffs of his cologne as his fingers first ran along your sides before reaching around to caress your back. “I made you breakfast. A couple pieces of the avocado toast that you like, with the prosciutto and the hollandaise sauce, and hazelnut coffee with whipped cream and caramel." Daniel’s hand moves from your back and travels down to your butt, bare but covered by the robe you forgot to take off before going to sleep. His touch was still soft and loving despite the sensual location.

   “How long have you been up to do all of that?” You mumbled your words into his shirt, letting your hands that were draped around his neck travel up to his hair, scratching the nape of his neck with your manicured nails.

   “A few hours. I also had to make sure I had everything packed.” Daniel brings his face to your scarf, breathing the scent in, not wanting to let you go.

   “Oh, thank you baby.” You stay cuddled into Daniel, making what he had to do next even harder for him.

   “It’s no problem.” He pulls away from you a bit, enough to place a kiss on your forehead. “Okay, love. I have to get going.” It took a minute for Daniel to follow through with his words, cradling your head to his chest and then placing another kiss to your forehead and then your lips before finally getting up from the bed, making you open your eyes after you lose the physical contact with your husband and feel the bed move when he gets off of it.

   “Make sure you have me on the phone until you lose service on that plane.” You reach out to Daniel with your left hand, which he swiftly takes and presses his lips to the ring clad finger.

   “That means you have to make sure you call me when you get up.” His eyes roam over your body, now minimally covered by the blankets on the bed and your robe, so his eyes were able trace from your cleavage, over the curve of your tummy, to you thighs, his mind wandering to the wonders hiding between them, so he didn't hear your brief answer.

   "Danny?" He blinks himself back to the present, eyes cutting back to your face. "I'll make sure to call you. Now go. Love you." Daniel bends down to press one more long kiss to your forehead and then your lips. When he pulls back he hesitates for a moment longer, just watching your tired face look up at him, running his thumb over your ring and then giving you a final kiss on the forehead.

   "Love you, too." You watch him leave the bedroom and listen for the door to close. For a moment you just lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, willing yourself back to sleep, but when that doesn't work, you just sigh and make your way out of bed, facetiming Daniel as you walk out of the room.

fallontonight

Liked by letitiawright and 98,279 others

fallontonight @/yn_onscreen and @/michaelbjordan join us tonight to talk about their new movie, in theater this December!

tagged yn_onscreen and michaelbjordan

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user4 I will be sat 🧎🏾‍♀️

danielricciardo Is the one in the gold dress single 🥵 asking for a friend (me I'm the friend)

>yn_onscreen Sorry, I'm married to someone who should be WORKING rn

>danielricciardo What, I can't take breaks to flirt with my wife? 🥺

user5 Okay, but why do they look perfect together-you know what, let me shut up 😶‍🌫️

im.angelabassett If they act anything like they did on set, you guys are in for a treat

>yn_onscreen Miss Angela, we weren't that bad

>im.angelabassett Yes y'all were

_________

  "So, how would you explain the plot of your movie?" Jimmy asks both you and your costar. You look over and see Michael motion toward you, so you take over and answer.

   "Um, well, really it's just poking fun at Rom-Coms, romantic movies, um, but it's pretty obvious that it's mainly, like, Hallmark movies that all have the same plot basically that we really mess with." There was a general excited reaction from the people around you, ooo's and laughs from the crowd, a small chuckle from your costar and an exaggerated accepting nod from Jimmy. "And the best part is that, like many movies that poke fun at other genres, the heroine realizes exactly how ridiculous the whole situation is and simultaneously helps other people realize it while embracing it as well. I really do think that people are going to enjoy it."

   "And another nice part of the movie is the fact that it has a primarily black cast. It was a joy leading alongside this lovely lady." Michael gives your cheek a light peck and takes hold of your right hand.

   "See, I was going to say that about the cast but it's his favorite part to talk about so I've let him have it." You giggle incessantly, feeling a small squeeze to your right hand.

   "Now, Yn, you got married right before filming began, right? It must have been something going from your own love story to filming one." Jimmy fidgets with the papers in front of him as you nod in response.

   "Yeah. I guess I went the method acting route for this one. But it did suck to have to leave right after our honeymoon. Daniel and I had each other on FaceTime almost every hour each day. We were only ever not on the phone after receiving multiple warnings and 'or else's." You laugh after your answer but look over at Michael when you feel your hand shift with him.

   "Hold on, you're married?" His tongue darts out of his mouth to run along the patch of hair underneath his bottom lip as he waited for your answer.

   "I am." Your answer was slightly snarky and confused because you were sure that Michael knew you were married.

   "Happily?" That was when you realized he was joking, making everyone, including you, in the studio laugh wildly.

   “Yes, happily. You always play too much.” You swat at him and chuckle a couple more times.

   "Hold on, dang girl." He is able to successfully guard himself from your swats, also laughing with the crowd before posing another question. "Wait, your husband is a racing driver, right?"

   "Yeah, Formula 1. Why?" You reach for your mug of water that sat on the desk to your left.

   "They usually have to stay pretty light, and Daniel he's kinda tall and skinny?" You nod, a questioning neutral look on your face because you knew your costar can be a bit out-of-pocket with his statements sometimes. He eyes you up and down, eyes lingering on your butt for a moment longer than anything else. "He's able to handle all that you’re packin’, huh?" Your face doesn't change, in fact it gets more intense, your cocked eyebrow lifting higher and your lips twisting to one side. "Okay, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. She's giving me that mama look, you know what I mean. The 'shut your mouth or I'll shut it for you' look." You couldn't help but crack a smile as everyone giggles at the exchange between you two, like a squabble between siblings.

   "Jimmy, do you see what I had to deal with?" It was signaled that this interview segment was nearing an end, so you take it upon yourself to create a bit of a witty end. "I need to get some form of compensation or something for having to deal with Michael for a year and a half…like all of these lovely people in this studio here and everyone watching going to see our new movie, out this December!" You flash a bright award winning smile to the camera while everyone clapped then let Jimmy finish out the segment and take the show to commercial. The only thing going through your mind was that everything went great and you could wait to call your husband.

_____________

   You check your phone again for a response to a simple "What are you doing now?" text, something to see if he was free to call again, but still nothing an hour later. And you hadn't heard anything from him since hours before that. Your brain recounts the FaceTime call between you and Daniel the day after your appearance on Jimmy Fallon's show. It was brief because he was headed off somewhere and you had a meeting to get to, but the annoyed "Yeah." followed by an apology and compliment on how you looked was not the answer you expected to asking him if he saw the interview. You just shrug it off though and take a sip from the wine glass you were holding before setting it down on the bathroom counter to start your nightly face routine. You were nearing the end of the routine, looking for your final moisturizer when a pair of arms snaked around your middle and lips surrounded by scratchy facial hair try to kiss your neck, but, reflexively, you throw an elbow back at the perpetrator, turning around and instantly feeling a weird mix of sorry, angry, and confusion when you saw it was your husband. 

  "Hi." Daniel groans out, recovering from the impact to his abdomen.

   "Baby, I'm sorry! But what the actual fuck are you doing here?" You accept his touch on you this time, his hands massaging the exposed flesh of your sides as your hands go up to his face for a kiss.

   "Three days is too long." His face was neutral while his eyes moved around your appearance. You were in a skimpy cropped cami and even skimpier gray shorts, all of his favorite parts of you exposed. He began to move a hand back and forth so his thumb would skim your tummy before moving both hands to your butt, pulling you a bit closer to him. You just looked at him, face glistening from the different products you put on it, waiting for him to continue talking. "You looked good on the show the other night. I hope you got to keep that dress."

   "I did." You bring your arms to wrap around his neck, his hands now moving all around you butt, massaging, rubbing. If you were a bronze statue, you would have dull areas on both of your ass cheeks. "Baby, there's something going on in that brain of yours. Just tell me."

   "We're married, right? I got you that ring on your finger?" You nod to his obscure question, moving your hands up into his hair. "Then why didn't that asshole get the fucking hint?" Daniel squeezes your butt a bit harder now, but quickly releases and runs his thumb over the area in an act to soothe it.

   "Danny, he was playing. Yeah, it was stupid, but it was all a joke. Besides, I told him not to do that again anyway, so it should all be fine now." You drape a hand over his shoulder after you speak, trying to scratch his back.

   “You know, I want that to be enough, I do, but you know how fucking tired I am of people wondering how I can ‘handle’ you?” You feel yourself being walked out of the bathroom, moving your hands to Daniel’s shoulder’s to keep yourself steady.

   “That has never bothered you before.” You raise your arms instinctively when you feel Daniel’s hands trail under your cami to pull it off, letting your unrestrained boobs fall, to which Daniel quickly tosses the shirt to the side to bring his hands to them.

   “Well it has never been said on national television by my wife’s coworker.” He quickly shed’s his own shirt and begins to do the same to his pants. “But you’re right. Everything is fine because it's me that comes home to you. Me who gets to see you like this, all exposed.” He approaches you again, one hand moving down the front of your shorts, a singular finger sliding through your folds. “Me who can make you wet by just being here, apparently.” He uses the ample amount of juices you’ve already produced to make easy circles around your clit, causing your knees to buckle slightly and a shocked high pitch whine to bubble from your chest. Just as quick as he inserted his hand into your shorts, it was removed, licking you off of his index finger before going to push his underwear down his legs, and you watched mesmerized as his dick springs free from them, the sight of it hard and bobbing by his thigh sinful. “Are you gonna join me?” His voice knocks you out of your trance and once your brain processes the situation you are quick to remove your shorts, kicking them toward the bathroom.

   “So this is why you flew all the way from Italy? To prove that you can ‘handle me’?” You let your hands roam his body, running up his shoulders and then slowly down his torso, sitting on the bed as they ran closer and closer to his pelvis.

   “Something like that.” He takes your hands that were about aching to take him in, leading you back into standing. “Ah. Stand up, love. I have a better idea.” He distances himself but still keeps a light hold on your fingers, eyes roaming your naked frame and loving what they see. “Fuck, you’re sexy. This is why I have had to fight off that fuckhead of a co-star of yours.” He brings you into him again, wrapping your arms around his neck and placing his hands on your hips, caressing and massaging the flesh and allowing his hands to travel where they may.

   “You know you wouldn’t have fought anyone-Ah!” You were shocked by the unexpected touch to your pussy, two long fingers briefly dipping into you before being slid up to your clit, lazy circles of various pressures being applied to the bundle of nerves.

   “You’re right. You’re mine. They’re just jealous.” The offending appendages move back to dip into you again, making you produce heavenly whimpers as they move in and out, gathering slick as they work until Daniel decides he couldn’t wait any longer to be inside of you, pulling his fingers out and sucking your taste off of them. “Come here.” This was less of a demand and more of a general comment to himself as he pulls you closer to him, both hands on your ass initially, but for a moment one hand leaves its post, grabbing his dick and running the tip along your folds before finally pressing into you, the sensation feeling different and deeper since you were standing. The hand that was still on your ass moves down your thigh to hitch up your knee to Daniel’s waist as the other hand goes back to where it came from, kneading your butt as he begins to thrust into you.

   “Oh! Daniel!” You could help but lean forward, wrapping your arms around Daniel’s neck and burying your face into him as well as his pace slowly becomes more brutal and slaps to your ass occurred with every other thrust. 

   “I find it funny that everyone thinks that I can’t handle this ass when it’s me making you moan like this.” Another smack to your ass makes you jolt and Daniel takes advantage of the movement to adjust you a bit, bringing you higher up on his hips, the change in angle causing you to have to be on your tiptoes. “This is my ass. I married this ass. And these tits. And this tummy. And these thighs. All of it. Mine.” He was rambling, thrusting with nearly every word, erotic screams coming from you in response. He gracelessly reaches for your left hand, bringing the ring clad extremity between you two. "Does he not see who's last name you have? This fucking rock on your finger?" If Daniel hitched his hips anymore, you would be fully off the ground, the mere thought of him being any deeper than he was now making you wetter.

   "They know, baby. I'm yours. I’m your wife." You moan out, your left arm making its way back around his neck, a knot in your stomach tightening with each thrust, each brush of his pubic bone on your clit. There was something in your confirmation that you were his and only his that twisted something in his brain. Satisfied an itch, but there was one part of that itch that was hard to reach, and he could only think of one solution to satisfy that final itchy spot.

   “I’m gonna fuck a baby into you. Then everyone will know your mine. Only mine” You wanted to respond, but there were a couple problems that stopped you from doing so initially. First, Daniel was fucking you so well that you could only produce groans, moans and whines each time Daniel’s dick is slowly pulled out of you and harshly thrusted back in. Second, you didn't know how you wanted to answer. You two talked about it a lot , but now? 

   "You'll look so pretty all round and soft from me. You want that? You want to be all round with our baby?" Our baby. That sounded nice.

   "Yes, Daniel. I want you to cum in me. You have no idea how much I want to have your baby" Finally words come from your mouth as you lift your head from his neck and press your forehead against his. You both had exhausted smiles on your faces.

   “Alright, then.” After these words, it was skillful how swifty he pulled himself out of you and brought his hand down your other leg to lift you onto the bed so that your hips were and the edge of the bed and he was standing between your legs, his fingers on his right hand running through the slick, puffy, folds of your pussy as he admires your face, glistening with a mixture of sweat and skincare products. "I'm gonna stuff you so full. I just want to see the pretty pussy leaking with cum." He starts to fuck you with his fingers when you beckon him to your face, grasping his chin with your left hand, ring sparkling with the sweat on his face.

   "All I hear is a lot of talk, Ricciardo." You give a sultry look through your eyelashes to your husband, failing at stifling a wide smile when you feel his fingers being pulled out of you and the head of his dick rubbing along your slit.

   "Well then, let me put my money where my mouth is, Ricciardo." He pushes into you slowly, eventually bottoming out, leaning forward to give you a sloppy kiss and then picking up your left hand to press a kiss to your ring, then adjusting his grip so your fingers were intertwined and pressing your hand back on the bed. He pulls back at an equally slow pace but in no time at all he was back to the toe curling pace he had when you were still standing, his unoccupied hand initially roaming your body, feeling up every body part that moved with each thrust, overwhelmed with the sight, but at a certain point he could tell that the sounds you were producing were becoming lazier and more exasperated, so he brought that hand to rub your clit, helping with snapping that knot tightening in your stomach again. "Cum for me, baby. I want to feel you pulse around my cock, milk all the cum from me so you can end up all round and soft with our baby. Make me cum so hard it's leaking out of you and I gotta push it back into my beautiful wife. Have our baby in that pretty tummy of yours." His words were an oddly sweet amount of filth, and were enough to snap that knot and make you cum, obvious from the tightened pulsing grip your walls had on his cock. With his hand still in yours, he places unfocused kisses around your face as you ride your high, but then removed his hand from yours to first adjust your legs that instinctively wrapped around his torso in the midst of your climax and then bring his hands to your hips, shifting the angle upward a bit. "Fuck, that's it. Squeeze my dick, baby. Make me cum inside you." 

   "Baby… fuck Danny. It's so sensitive. I can't-" Your complaint was stopped by more sloppy kisses that you couldn't help but get into, tongues swirling around and more often than not missing their target, Daniel's hands traveling up from your hips to squeeze your boobs.

   "These are gonna be so pretty and swollen…" It was obvious that what you said went in one ear and out the other but you didn't care. Your head was swirling with too many other thoughts, and sometimes lack thereof, to care, still reveling in the pleasurable sensation of his pubic bone dragging over your clit, and now the feeling of Daniel rolling one nipple in between his thumb and index finger. It wasn't long after this that his thrust were more sporadic as you felt warm, long strings of cum coating your walls, filling you up, and afterward he kept his dick in you as he bent down to kiss you again, this time less like lust driven teens and more like the fully and utterly in love married people you two were. He loved you more than you could imagine, and the mere thought of just seeing you carryinh his child, your guys' baby, made him want to smother you and protect you and show how much he loves you that much more. You are his wife. Full stop.

   When he stands back up again, much to your dismay as signaled by the small whine you let out when your arms were unlatched from around his neck, pulls out and watches his cum flow out of you, a slow trial trying to make its way down your ass but is partially stopped by his fingers, using the digits to stuff back in you what he can, earning small exhausted mewls from you. You had your eyes closed, trying to recover, so it was a surprise to you when you felt yourself being shifted fully onto the bed and a couple of decorative pillows trapped in the nearest town he could find was placed under your hips and one was placed under your feet, and a larger heavy blanket was draped over your naked frame.

   "You really thought this through, huh?" Your eyes follow him as he pulls on his underwear and hops into bed, laying propped on his side as attempts to move the hair that was stuck to your forehead.

   "Surprisingly no, but I am not gonna let my good work go to waste." He leans down to kiss you again, simple slightly tongue involved kisses that are finished off with a couple of pecks. "Now, what do we have to do? Let's see, uhh… names-i like Aliyah, you came up with that one a while ago. College fund-gonna need to open one of those. I think the nursery should be in the room down the hall. What do you think?" 

   You just stare at him for a second, a small smirk on your face while you examine the genuine excitement on his face as he talks about the future before reaching up to bring his face down to kiss you, turning on your side but with your hips still propped. "I think we need to get to sleep and then you need to get back to Faenza before anyone notices that you're gone." You kiss him one more time and then snuggle your head into his chest.

   "I like that idea. We'll go with that." He presses his lips to your hair, just breathing in its sent before realization hits and he tries to reach over to your nightstand for your bonnet but you stop him, taking his hand and draping his arm over your waist.

   "I'll be fine for one night. That's why I also have the silk pillowcase." He just looks at you for a moment, eyes moving over every corner of your face, and then kicks away the pillows propping you up so he could cuddle as close to you as possible.

   "I lub you." His words were muffled now that his lips were pressed to your forehead, right below your hair line, so he could continue to be intoxicated by your scent.

   "I love you, too." You wrap your arms around his neck and shift even closer so you are chest-to-chest with him. Eventually weariness finally caught up with the two of you and you both dozed off into a Dreamland, unknowing that both of you ended up dreaming about your happy little family.

_____________

   "Baby, I could've gotten it myself." You plop yourself back down onto the couch and lift your somewhat swollen feet onto the coffee table, silently glad your dotting husband got up to refill your water and bowl of cereal your were craving.

   "You were just begging me to massage your feet. Shut up and let me take care of you damn it." You giggle and the faux aggression that Daniel responded with, running your hand over your 5 months pregnant belly. 

   "Aliyah, your daddy's a big ol' meanie sometimes." Your baby girl in your stomach wiggled around at the sound of your voice, but began to practically flip around when she heard Daniel's voice approaching.

   "You talking about me? I can just turn my ass around and take your salted Frosted Flakes with me." He turned and dramatically started to walk back, stopping when you grasp his shirt.

   "No, no. Okay, I'm sorry. Give me the cereal." He begins to hand you the bowl, only for it to be a ploy for him to lean down for a quick peck.

   "You look pretty." His eyes dance over your face as he sets the bowl of cereal down on the side table and slowly runs his hand across your belly to your hips, leaning down for another longer kiss.

   "Sans my swollen feet and puffy face." You receive another kiss that's accompanied by a light squeeze to your hips, just at your butt.

   "No, even your puffy face and swollen feet. You're the prettiest person I've ever seen." Sure he's been completely and utterly infatuated with you since he first met you, but seeing you pregnant turned it up a notch. He never understood what people meant when they said that pregnant women had a certain glow until he saw you. You were always so radiant even when you didn't think so. And he loved when you talked to your unborn daughter, laughing to yourself after telling her a joke or saying something funny. It made him more than excited to see you once your daughter is born. And your body…as he kissed you over and over, deeper and deeper, his hands roamed over your body that has changed quite a bit over the past few months. He squeezed at your soft thighs and widened hips, ran his fingers over your tummy, fingers blindly finding the developing stretch marks, and brought his hand to your boob, loving how plump they are getting, giving the one he had in his hand a light squeeze.

   "Ow, Daniel…" You giggled, intoxicated from the intense lip locking that was just put on pause. He loved how you looked at him too. Like he was the whole world wrapped up in a little bow. You were his wife, you were in love with him. And he loved you more than you could ever know.

   "Sorry, I forgot." He went back in to kiss you, getting a small peck in before you abruptly push him away.

   "I'm sorry. It's just…your daughter is currently using my bladder as a trampoline. Can you help me to the bathroom?" You poke your bottom lip out and bat your eyelashes.

   "Yes, I'll help you." He presses a kiss to your temple and then assists in helping you clamor from the couch, grinning and following you as you waddle to the bathroom.

danielricciardo

Liked by landonorris and 402,848 others

danielricciardo And baby makes 3 ✨Mommy and Daddy love you, Aliyah Jade ♥️

tagged yn_onscreen

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user6 Can they please televise this fight to the death that's about to happen between the drivers for godfather?

landonorris Congrats you two! Couldn't think of 2 better people to become parents

>yn_onscreen Thank you for being our practice child, Lando 😘

>landonorris It was no problem at all

user7 So...did anyone else count back the months and realize...🫠

>user8 Daniel said "Fuck all of you, watch this"

gabunion So happy for you two 😭🩷

>yn_onscreen Please know that I have you

michaelbjordan Damn y'all I was just jokin 😂♥️

#black reader #formula 1 #f1 imagines #formula 1 x black!reader #request #f1 x black!reader #daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo scenario #daniel ricciardo smut #daniel ricciardo x black reader #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo imagine #f1 smut #f1 fic #f1 smau

[dragonnarrative-writes]

Part 2 - Work Introductions

Autumn Embers Masterlist

CW: Mentions of child loss, mentions of medical neglect/abuse, mentions of reproductive abuse, mentions of pregnancy complications and death, mentions of racism, sexism (in an omegaverse way), Brandon (unfortunately living), real world references

Data entry and analysis isn’t the most exciting job in the world, no matter what kind of fancy title you’re given, but it pays the bills. Working on a military base isn’t ideal, but the benefits are nothing to sneeze at. And most days, you get to sit alone and uninterrupted, in your own office, instead of in a cramped cubicle.

On Tuesday, you’re startled out of your audiobook by a gentle knock on your desk. Sherry, your immediate superior, gives an awkward little wave and waits for you to finish your line and mute your music.

“Hey, I’m so sorry about this,” she says, as soon as your headphones are clear. “You remember those port reports from Honduras? Some of the senior analysts have some questions for you? They’re currently in a meeting and requested some clarification…?”

You wait, but she doesn’t say anything else. “…what do they want to know?”

“Oh, they didn’t tell me, I’m sorry,” Sherry says. “They asked if you could… Well, they need you to attend the meeting. Right now.”

“Do I even have the clearance for that kind of meeting?” You stand without waiting for an answer and disconnect your laptop from the dock. With it tucked under your arm, you grab a notebook and pen, as well as your water bottle.

Sherry leads the way out of the office. “I know you submitted these reports two weeks ago, and your notations are excellent. I think the problem is with one of the flagged ship manifests, but they wouldn’t clarify why they were concerned. Couldn’t get a word in edgewise.”

Her apologetic air suddenly makes sense. “Brandon’s in there, isn’t he?”

Sherry grimaces. “I’m so, so sorry. It’s him and a few alphas. There’s an American CIA agent as well.”

“So I absolutely don’t have the clearance for this meeting,” you sigh. “Great.”

A short elevator ride and two halls away, you take a fortifying breath before you step into an occupied meeting room. Brandon’s is the first face you see, and when he sees you the corners of his lips turn up in an infuriating smile. Next to him, another senior analyst’s eyebrows pop up, but Andrew actually looks happy to see you.

Before the door can close behind you, a blonde, American alpha stands and offers her hand in a no-nonsense shake. “Kate Laswell. We appreciate you being so prompt.”

“Of course,” you answer. Unfortunately, your attention is a little torn. All four members of the 141 are sitting at the table, looking at you curiously. Sergent MacTavish grins like a wolf. Captain Price tips his chin up just enough that you know he’s scenting you. Lieutenant Riley, face covered from the nose down in a black neck gaiter, gives you a quick once over that makes you want to shiver. But you’re a professional, so instead of fleeing you take the nearest seat, across from a smiling Sergent Garrick. You fold both of your hands on top of the table, the very picture of accommodating and helpful, “What can I assist you with?”

“Why’d you flag this shipping manifest,” Brandon asks. The projector at the front of the room switches to a document that would be barely legible, even without the distortion of zoom.

“You’re going to have to be more specific,” you tell him, flipping your laptop open. “What’s the file name?”

“Honduras,” Brandon says, Port Cortez.”

“Puerto Cortes,” you correct. And seeing as it’s the largest seaport in Central America, I’ve combed through literally hundreds of manifests, you think, but don’t say. “I’m going to have to ask you to be a bit more specific. The projector isn’t easy to read.”

“You flagged this manifest for a Korean ship.”

You jump when Sergent Garrick says, “Christ, mate, just give her the file name.”

Lieutenant Riley gives a cough that sounds suspiciously like a laugh. You think you see MacTavish still grinning at you out of the corner of your eye. Laswell rattles off the document name without looking.

As soon as the document loads, you know exactly why Brandon and Andrew are confused. And you know that the following conversation is going to be so unpleasant that you shoot off a quick email to take the rest of the day off once this meeting ends.

You take a deep breath, let it out slowly. “The manifest is inconsistent with previous patterns from that particular port and that particular captain and crew. As I noted, the four containers from Venusian Pharmaceuticals wouldn’t have made it on the ship do to political and economic pressures.”

Brandon doesn’t bother to look at you when he asks, “What pressures?”

Laswell interjects before you can answer, “Leaked internal communications provided evidence that Cloudstone Pharm was selling tampered heat suppressants and birth control in various black markets. The 4B movement in South Korea had been calling for an investigation for years by that point. A lot of omegas were killed because of mis-labeled medications. Pregnancy and birth related complications.”

“I remember that. It was, what, five, more years ago?” Lieutenant Riley asks. “Had an entire re-brand. Cloudstone to Venusian. Everything went from blues and whites to greens and yellows.”

“Okay, so the containers had a bit of extra security to get onto the ship,” Brandon says, before you can get over the shock of two alphas in a room who know anything about even the broad strokes of omega health care. “There’s protesters at every major port for one thing or another.”

“Even if they’d gotten on the ship, they wouldn’t have made it to Puerto Cortes,” you counter. “The captain lost two of his kids because of their medications. He’s had his crew dump the containers and alter manifests before. He was investigated for it, but his crew wouldn’t speak against him.”

Brandon frowns. “How do we know he didn’t get paid off?”

How do we know the omegas weren’t worth less than a cash payment? Your throat feels like closing in on itself. You keep your voice as steady as you can. “He wouldn’t have been.”

“How do you know?”

Andrew, eyes darting between you and Brandon, tries to interrupt. “Well-”

“Because he made the autopsy reports for both of his sons public,” you answer. You have to force your jaw to unclench. “Along with pictures and videos of how sick they were before they passed, before anyone knew what was really wrong with them. And the executives of Cloudstone, an American company, laughed. Called them slurs and ignorant animals in emails and meeting memos that were later leaked to the public.”

Across from you, Garrick is not smiling anymore. “That’s… disgusting.”

“Cloudstone struggled to recover in eastern Asian markets, even with the re-brand,” you continue, then take a deep breath and let it out slowly. “And all of this was in my report.”

“Your job isn’t to provide those kinds of references. You’re not trained for it. There were a couple of links to articles,” Brandon dismisses. “Not enough to-”

“One of his sons experienced total organ failure,” you interrupt, closing your laptop. You know your scent must be all over the place, but the subject matter was already touchy. Now he’s questioning your work and misrepresenting your job duties? Oh, fuck him. “Because he was on incorrectly administered fertility treatments that were disguised as birth control, he had a high-risk pregnancy with multiples. And then his medications were switched with heat inducers. His other son had rapid onset neuropathy and multiple strokes within a week. Neither of his sons wanted to have children. One of them couldn’t, biologically, because it would have killed him anyways. And their partners decided that they didn’t care.”

Brandon wrinkles his nose at you. “No need to get so worked up.”

You practically feel the way your scent goes hot and acrid. Where most omegas have a distress scent that is sickly sweet, yours is much closer to an alpha’s shock scent. Your parents used to call you “Wildfire” because of it. You watch the hairs on Garrik’s arms stand up.

You can barely smell Andrew’s nervous distress over your rage. “Okay, yeah, that’s plenty. The captain wouldn’t have taken the containers.”

“Is there a reason you didn’t consult the references I added into the report?” You know the sudden calm in your voice, the relaxing of your posture, is at odds with the way your anger scent gets stronger. You’ve been told it’s a sensory nightmare, so you only do it when someone tells you you’re not calm enough. You fold your hands on the table again. “Because I included original and translated sources, according to the standards of the department.”

The room is silent. All seven alphas are agitated. You can only pick out MacTavish’s scent, muddled and frustrated. Andrew opens his mouth, closes it. Finally says, “I didn’t receive the references.”

“Senior analyst Lawrence received the full report directly,” you say, holding eye contact with Brandon. “But I know how emails can get lost. I would be happy to send them again. I’ll CC you, and request that your access to the full drive be confirmed. Sir. Is there anything else I can assist the team with?”

Laswell scrawls something on a sticky note and passes it over to you. “Please also include me on those emails.”

You give her your most demure smile. “Unfortunately, Agent Laswell, I don’t have the clearance to send reports outside of the department. I would be happy to help you coordinate that with senior analysts Lawrence and Bennett.”

You pluck the sticky note from her hand, stand, and gather up your laptop, notebook, and water bottle. When you have everything, you pass behind her to where Brandon and Andrew are sitting. Deliberately putting yourself at Brandon’s back, you hand the note to Andrew with a placid smile. “Agent Laswell requests that you provide her with the full report.”

Brandon smells disconcerted, trapped in his seat with your scent roaring as you stand just inside of his blind spot. Andrew, for his part, only hesitates for a moment before taking the offered sticky note, looking from you to Laswell to Brandon and back. “Thank you.”

“Of course, sir.” Butter wouldn’t melt in your mouth. “Is there anything else I can assist you with?”

“I… believe that will be all…?”

“Of course, sir. Thank you, sir.” You cement your little performance with a perfectly deferential partial curtsy to Andrew, then to the rest of the room. “Please do not hesitate to let me know if there’s anything else I can do the support the team.”

As the door shuts behind you, you hear Captain Price’s voice for the first time. “Goddamn. That is a woman capable of murder.”

#dragonnarrativewrites fanfiction #poly 141 #omegaverse #autumn embers verse #there's some meta to come #just a heads up

[special-agent-sass]

Elevator Passions

Warnings

Smut

Y/N sauntered into the bullpen, leather jacket squeaking as she walked. She headed straight for her desk, not making eye contact with anyone. The rest of the team watched her warily. Ever since her blow up with Gibbs last week, she'd been quiet and closed off.

Tony sidled up next to her desk. "So, Y/N/N, you coming out with us tonight?" He gave her his most charming smile.

She didn't even glance at him. "Not really in the mood, DiNozzo."

McGee piped up from his desk. "Come on, Y/N. It'll be fun!"

"Yeah, we haven't seen you outside of work in weeks," Tony wheedled.

Y/N finally looked up, pinning them both with an icy stare. "I said no. Now drop it."

Tony and McGee exchanged a look but didn't press the issue. Ever since Y/N had joined the team a little over a year ago, she'd been like a little sister to them. Former Marine, tough as nails, and beautiful to boot. But lately, something had changed.

Gibbs strolled in then, coffee in hand. "Gear up. Dead petty officer in Anacostia."

The team scrambled to collect their things. As they headed to the elevator, Gibbs grabbed Y/N's arm.

"You good for this?" His steely blue eyes searched hers.

Y/N yanked her arm away. "I'm fine."

Gibbs studied her a moment longer before giving a curt nod. They joined the others in the elevator, tension thick between them.

At the crime scene, Y/N immediately got to work photographing evidence while McGee bagged and tagged. Tony interviewed witnesses while Gibbs examined the body.

"Single gunshot wound to the back," Ducky pronounced. "No exit wound, so the bullet likely fragmented inside the body. I'll know more once I get him home."

Gibbs grunted in acknowledgment. He glanced over at Y/N, crouched low as she took photos. The sight of her ripped jeans stretched tight over her curves made his mouth go dry. Shaking himself, he turned back to Ducky. "Time of death?"

"Based on liver temp, I'd say between midnight and 2am."

Gibbs nodded, then went to check on his agents' progress. McGee had finished collecting evidence, Tony was wrapping up his interviews, and Y/N was scribbling notes about the scene.

Back at the navy yard, the team dug into the victim's background. Petty Officer James Rourke, 25, was a communications technician stationed out of Norfolk. No wife or kids, parents both deceased.

"Looks like Rourke had a bit of a gambling problem," McGee announced. "Some large cash withdrawals over the past few months that far exceed his salary."

"Owed money to the wrong people, maybe?" Tony speculated.

Gibbs turned to Y/N. "Bring up his financials, see if you can trace where the money was going."

Y/N's eyes flashed with anger. "You don't need to tell me how to do my job."

"When you're acting like a probationary agent, then yeah, I do," Gibbs shot back.

Y/N shot to her feet. "Just because I won't kiss your ass like Tony doesn't mean I don't know what I'm doing."

"Hey!" Tony protested.

"You make one more outburst like that, you'll be riding a desk till you retire," Gibbs threatened. "You got that?"

Y/N stepped close until they were nearly nose to nose. Gibbs could feel her breath on his face, see the fire in her eyes.

"I could ride you instead" she taunted. "Clearly that's what you'd prefer."

Tony's jaw dropped. McGee's eyes bugged out. The bullpen went deadly silent.

Gibbs clenched his jaw, hands fisting at his sides. "With me. Now." He stormed off towards the elevator.

Y/N followed, chin held high. The doors slid shut behind them. Gibbs flipped the emergency stop switch, halting the car between floors.

He turned to Y/N, eyes blazing. "You ever speak to me like that again—"

"You'll what?" Y/N cut him off. "Spank me?" She stepped closer, breasts brushing his chest. "We both know you've wanted to bend me over your desk since I got here."

Gibbs swallowed hard. "It's against protocol." But even as he said it, his hands grasped her hips, pulling her against him.

"Screw protocol," Y/N hissed before crushing her lips to his.

Gibbs groaned into the kiss, backing her against the elevator wall. Their mouths clashed hungrily as his hands slid under her shirt, finding smooth, warm skin. Y/N nipped his bottom lip as she frantically unbuckled his belt.

Breaking the kiss, Gibbs rasped into her ear, "We shouldn't..." But his protest died as she wrapped her fingers around him. He shuddered, head falling back.

"I need this, Jethro," Y/N pleaded breathlessly. "Make me forget everything else."

Surrendering, Gibbs hoisted her up, her legs wrapping around his waist. Their clothes disappeared in a frenzy of tearing fabric and grasping hands. Then he was inside her, swallowing her cries with his mouth as he took her hard against the elevator wall.

After, collapsed in a sweaty, panting heap on the floor, Gibbs pressed a kiss to her hair. "I've wanted this...wanted you...for a long time," he admitted gruffly.

Y/N nuzzled his cheek. "Me too. Rules be damned."

Gibbs smiled and pulled her close. Protocol could wait. Right now, he had everything he needed.

#gibbs x reader #ncis gibbs #gibbs x y/n #jethro gibbs imagine #leroy jethro gibbs #jethro gibbs #gibbs smut #smut #ncis #jethro gibbs x reader #gibbs

[virtualvault]

What Good Girls Get

Pairing: Switch! Marc Spector x Sub!reader x Dom!Layla El-Faouly

Summary: While Layla is away, Marc wants to play. Being the good girl you are, you reject his advances and she rewards you while Marc is left to face the consequences.

Warnings: Dom/ Sub dynamics, polyamory, punishment, brat!marc, dirty talk, praise kink, degradation, rough sex, sex toys, strap-ons, squirting, oral(f) receiving, oral(m) receiving, pet names, fingering, begging, spitting, slapping, aftercare, cuddles(Let me know if I missed anything:))

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: This is only my second fic so I'm still working on getting better at exposition and stuff but I'm actually really proud of the smut and dialogue in this one. As always, feedback is welcome and encouraged. Enjoy!!

"We shouldn't. Layla told us we can't fool around while she's gone." you whine as you lay on the bed, Marc hovering above you. His face is buried in your neck while he plants sloppy kisses across your skin. You do your best to stand your ground but make no move to try and get him off you.

"Marc, I'm serious. Did you see the look in her eyes? She really meant it. I don't know about you, but I don't want to get on her bad side. We just got off punishment for the kitchen incident." It was quite a punishment too, but to be honest you deserved it. A few days ago, Layla had gone out to get dinner while Marc graciously offered to stay behind and help you finish preparing the dessert you were making for your friend's birthday. His help soon turned into a distraction as he started grabbing at you and pulling you against him, despite your determination to focus on the task at hand.

It started with Marc innocently feeding you a few of the strawberries you were cutting up and by the time Layla returned he had you on your knees, his dick covered in whipped cream, and you eagerly cleaning it off with your tongue. She had forbidden you two to touch yourselves or one another for the rest of the week as punishment and didn't let either of you out of her sight. She knew that would lead to more trouble.

That's why when she had been called to attend an event that would require her to stay across town overnight, she was hesitant. If it were just you, she wouldn't have worried. You're always on your best behavior. Unless Marc is there. He's always the instigator. You can count on one hand all the times you've been punished for something that didn't involve Marc. You craved Layla's approval, needed her to be proud of you. Marc made that incredibly difficult, though. Despite your better judgement, you almost always gave in. He had this hold over you that made him impossible to resist. Especially when Layla isn't there and you miss her.

Marc misses her desperately when she's gone as well, and that's part of the reason he acts out. It also doesn’t help that he is a brat through and through. For him, all the rules fly out the window the moment she steps out the door. He loves to rile her up. Lately he's been pushing his luck and punishments have been getting increasingly severe. Instead of turning soft at the end like Layla has a habit of doing, especially when it comes to you, she's started implementing 'no touching rules', ruined orgasms, edging with no release, withholding pleasure, etc. He also just can't help himself when he gets you all alone. It's like a switch flips in his brain and he just wants to pounce on you. Make you misbehave like he does. He knows you're Layla's good girl and he loves to see you turn into a dirty little slut for him.

"C'mon, it's not like she just ran out to the store, she won't be home until tomorrow. There's no way she'll find out." He continues to kiss down your neck and palms at your chest, making you arch your back.

"Yes, she will. I don't know how she does it, but she can always tell."

"That's because you can't lie to save your life, baby. You know, you really need to work on your poker face." he jests, and you shoot him a glare. But you can't help the small smile that forms on your face because you know he's right. If you're ever hiding something, you distance yourself from Layla, unable to even look her in the eyes. When she finally makes you, whatever you're hiding comes spilling out of you, completely out of your control. And if it had something to do with Marc, which is usually the case, he gets in trouble as well. It's detrimental to you both.

" You really don't want to?" Marc asks. He gives you puppy dog eyes, pulling out all the stops to try and get you to give in.

"Of course, I do." You play with the hem of his shirt, trying to ignore the way you feel his bulge against your thigh.

"I just really don't want to disobey her. We don't have to wait too long; she'll be back tomorrow. And who knows, maybe she'll even reward us for being good. It's been a while." You offer, trying to convince not only him but yourself to resist the temptation.

"It's been a while for me. She rewards you all the time. It's not fair." He pouts and pinches your sides, making you giggle.

"That's because you actually have to behave for that to happen, dummy. You just have to learn to follow the rules. And tonight is the perfect opportunity to try it out." you stroke his hair reassuringly. It would do him some good to practice some restraint.

"I'll try." he says, with absolutely zero sincerity in his voice.

"How about we go watch a movie instead? She never said we couldn't cuddle." He nods, smiling at you innocently enough to convince you he has given up. You cup his face and pull it to yours, and you plant a soft kiss on the tip of his nose. He stands, helps you up, and you both head to the living room.

Marc manages to keep his hands to himself through most of the film. He has you held against him, fitting snuggly in his side. You rest your head on his shoulder, enjoying the safe and warm feeling he provides. You even start to doze off, but awaken when Marc shifts, telling you he's heading to the bathroom. In his absence, you lay your head down on the cushion. Rolling over on your stomach, you feel yourself succumb to the drowsiness again. A few minutes later, you are startled awake when you feel the couch dip, and a weight settle on your backside. You curiously turn your head to find Marc straddled across your thighs. You try to wriggle away, but he puts his full weight on your back and effectively stops you. He starts kissing and licking down the back of your neck.

“Marc, you were doing so well. Let’s just go to bed.” you plead.

“I'd love to take you to bed.” he responds, then starts softly nipping at your skin.

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” You feel him grin against you and it sends tingles across your skin.

“C'mon it’s not like I'm going to tell. And you’ll have until tomorrow evening to get yourself together enough to face Layla. You can keep one little secret, can’t you?” You are already putty in his hands and let wanton moans fall from your lips at the warmth of his mouth on your skin and his hands grabbing at your sides.

“I want to so bad. I just… I wanna be a good girl.” you whine.

"Well, it's nice to know one of you respects me.” Layla chimes in, and you both jump, startled by her surprise entrance. Neither of you had heard her come in. You freeze, and so does the man above you. A feeling of dread falls over you but is overtaken by a feeling of delight when your eyes land on your beautiful girlfriend. She’s still wearing the outfit she wore to the event, and she looks breathtaking.

"I managed to find a way to come home early to the loves of my life and this is what I find. Did I not make myself clear before I left?" She scolds, but there is a slight playfulness to her tone.

Marc, still refusing to look at her, lifts himself into a sitting position. You glance back at him and see the look of contemplation on his face. He could play this one of two ways. He could apologize profusely and get on his hands and knees begging for forgiveness, or he could stand his ground and see how far he can push his luck. Being the brat he is, he obviously chooses the latter. Not even bothering to answer her, he flips you over and Layla rounds the coffee table to stand in front of you both. He moves his eyes to hers as he starts grabbing at you and sliding your shirt up, exposing your breasts. Layla’s silence is deadly, yet the look on her face is eerily calm.

He grabs your bare chest and starts tweaking your nipples, and you whimper at the sensation. You don’t want to upset her, but it just feels so good. You rub your thighs together trying to relieve some of the pressure building in your core.

Neither of your partners notice as both sets of eyes are locked in a stare, waiting to see what the other will do next. The mischievous grin on Marc's face makes you nervous. You know he’s playing with fire and isn’t considering the consequences. But as always, his behavior manages to stoke the flames in the pit of your stomach. You don’t know what it is, the thought of testing Layla's patience yourself never crosses your mind. But seeing her reaction when Marc does it makes you want him to keep going, even though you know he’ll pay for it later.

You grab Marc’s wrists, not even sure if it’s to stop him or urge him on and you shoot Layla a pleading look, silently begging her to do something. Marc finally looks away as he brings his mouth down to one of your breasts. He latches onto your nipple and rolls it between his teeth. You let out a squeal and squeeze your eyes shut.

“Do you want him to stop?” You don’t even hear what Layla says as Marc's other hand travels down your stomach and lands on your clothed mound.

“Look at me, angel. I asked you a question. Do you want Marc to stop?” Trying to steady your voice as his fingers slip into your underwear, dragging up and down your wet folds, you whimper, “It feels good but…but I don’t want to disobey you.” She gives you a soft smile and wears a proud look on her face, causing a warmth to bloom in your chest. She walks towards you and bends down so her face is level with yours.

As she starts petting your hair she coos, “Of course you don’t. Because you’re my good girl, aren’t you?” you preen at her words. No matter how good Marc’s touch makes you feel, nothing compares to Layla's praise. With a newfound strength and determination to prove her right, you push Marc’s hand out of your pants and shove his face away. He watches you cover your chest, making it impossible for him to continue, and he huffs.

He sits up and contemplates his next move. He was really banking on you giving in and being able to test your girlfriend's patience together. Even when he's facing punishment himself, he loves seeing you endure one too. Seeing Layla's little angel get in trouble turns him on in a way he can’t describe. But it looks like you had more willpower than he thought, and he’ll be taking this one on his own.

As a last-ditch effort, he blurts out “She started it.” You gasp, knowing that’s a bold-faced lie.

He continues, “She was on me the moment you walked out the door. But you know how irresistible she is when she begs, I couldn’t help it. I’m just doing what you would’ve done.” He leers back at her, trying to stand firm. Layla sighs, not believing him for a second. She's getting frustrated. As much as she hates it when you two break the rules, she hates when you lie about it even more. She usually lets you off easier if you come forward and tell her what really happened. You always do but Marc has the habit of dodging the truth until she drags it out of him. It’s a nasty habit that she’s determined to break, and now is the perfect opportunity.

“He’s lying! He was trying to fuck me all night! I told him you’d be mad, but he wouldn’t listen.” You match the glare he shoots you, and he grabs your thigh firmly in warning, not appreciating the outburst. But you weren’t going to roll over on this one. You had worked really hard to finally find the strength to not give in for once and you’d be damned if you went down for this with him. You want your reward for being a good girl and you aren’t going to let him ruin that.

“You believe me don’t you, Lay?” You look up at her through your lashes and give her the sweetest look you can muster up. The nickname brings a smile to her face, and she replies, “Of course I do, baby.”

“But” Marc starts, and Layla raises her brow at him, daring him to keep testing her patience. He backs down immediately, hanging his head in defeat.

“Go lay on the bed sweetheart.” She instructs and leans down, connecting her mouth with yours. Marc, enjoying the show, subconsciously starts stroking your thigh but she is quick to swat his hand away. “You, go stand at the foot of the bed. And keep your hands to yourself.” she commands, and he follows you into the bedroom, dragging his feet.

He stands in front of you now, arms crossed in annoyance, and you smirk at him. “Thanks a lot.” he sneers.

“Hey, I said to be patient and we’d get rewarded. Maybe this will teach you a lesson.” you say smugly, and he rolls his eyes.

Layla enters, grabbing the chair from the desk and placing it in front of the bed. She makes Marc strip. She then ties up his hands and orders him to sit but leaves him unrestrained otherwise. She removes her jacket and proceeds to strip you, softly caressing your sides as she does, and your skin heats up under her touch. Shifting you, she lays you at the end of the bed, parallel to the headboard, and gives Marc a full view of her body and yours. Normally he'd be thankful but under these circumstances it's torturous.

She makes her way down your body, nipping and sucking at your skin. She's always thorough, taking the time to admire every inch of you. After leaving your stomach and thighs covered in love bites, and running her tongue over your marked skin, she buries her head between your thighs. She's gentle and diligent but she doesn't rush. Doesn't eat you out in a frenzy like Marc tends to do. She knows your body better than you do and knows just what to do to have you fall apart on her tongue.

She has to hold your waist down as you writhe on the bed. Your sultry moans and desperate cries have Marc involuntarily bucking his hips into the air, begging for relief. Before you know it, she has you cumming hard and you grind your hips against her mouth as she sucks on your clit, helping you ride the waves of pleasure. Giving you a second to catch your breath, she then positions you on the edge of the bed, exposing you to Marc, and takes her place behind you. She wraps her legs around yours and uses them to spread your thighs. Her movements begin slow, like before, and she starts by gently circle your clit with her fingers. The torturous speed has you crying out for more. Wanting to give you whatever your heart desires, she dips her fingers into you. They slip in easily, and each delicious drag of her digits against your walls has you bucking your hips against her hand.

Your arousal starts to form a ring around her fingers and drips onto the floor. The sight has Marc falling to his knees in front of you, face nearing your center. Layla gives him a warning look, but she can feel you getting close, so she doesn’t want to stop. Then she gets an idea. She pushes faster against that sweet spot inside you and matches that rhythm as she starts rubbing your swollen bud. Mesmerized by the sight, Marc leans his head against your thigh.

“No touching.” Layla commands and he nods. He doesn’t move any closer, practicing more restraint than he ever has in his life. She starts nipping at that spot under your ear and it has you squirming. You feel that familiar pressure building that you didn’t feel with your previous climax and smile, realizing what’s about to happen, and your whole body tenses. “I'm cumming” is all you can say before you start spasming and you explode all over his face. Marc flinches slightly at the unexpected splash of your arousal. It just keeps streaming out of you and he quickly opens his mouth wide, groaning as your sweet nectar coats his tongue. He gives Layla a pleading look, and she knows what he wants.

“You can clean off her thighs.” she says, loving the hungry look on his face. He laps at your drenched thighs and savors the taste that he's been dying for all night. You let out a satisfied purr and you eyes fall closed, feeling soothed by the warmth of his tongue. When he's finished, he takes a moment and just stares at your sex. Before he can stop himself, he lurches forward to indulge in your arousal from the source. Before he can reach you, though, Layla yanks his head back by his hair, clicking her tongue at him.

“Still don’t want to listen, huh?” She moves from behind you and drags him back to the chair. You already miss her warmth, but your excitement grows as she goes to open the trunk you keep on the corner of the room and pulls out some rope and a harness with the familiar pink silicone attached to the base. Your heart starts beating faster and you bite your lip, thrumming with excitement at what’s coming next. She inches the chair closer to the bed, and Marc is now just inches away. She ties him to the chair now, ignoring his grumbling. With her guidance, you are now on your hands and knees, head halfway off the end of the bed, now face to face with Marc. As Layla puts on the strap-on, you can’t help but smile at the pout on his face. You've never seen him this frustrated before and you would feel bad for him if it didn't turn you on so much.

Your girlfriend situates herself behind you, kissing up your spine, and you pull her up so her mouth meets yours and you moan at the saccharine taste of her. When she breaks the connection, her mouth finds your ear and she whispers, “You’re doing so good for me. My obedient girl.” The comment makes your heart swell. You hum, looking her in the eyes, and whisper “I love you.” She nuzzles her face against yours she affectionately replies, “I love you too, angel."

She sits back onto her haunches and rubs the silicone up and down your folds, each flick against your clit making your breath hitch. As she slides the length in to the hilt, you cry out and she sets a maddeningly slow pace. You're about to beg for more, but she already knows what you want. She slowly pulls out to the tip and then slams back into you, and begins giving you those hard, deep thrusts you crave.

After a while, your arms give out underneath you and you fall onto your chest. The arch of your back gives her a delicious view of your ass and she gives it a quick slap. You whine for more and she continues, landing multiple hits to both your cheeks and thighs and you squeal in delight. When she's done, she grabs firmly onto your hip with one hand and the other comes up to settle on the back of your neck and she pulls you back to meet her thrusts.

With your face now just inches away from Marc, you stick your tongue out, unable to resist the temptation to taunt him. It's a pretty juvenile thing to do, you admit, and can’t help the giggle you let out at the sight of the frustration bubbling up inside him, the aggravation showing clear as day on his face. Before you can pull your tongue back in your mouth, he leans forward and spits fast and hard, some landing in your open mouth, and some on your cheek. You gasp, but your surprise quickly morphs into a pathetic whine, loving the taste of him. You drag your tongue over your lips and the surrounding area, trying to get to the spatter that missed your mouth. A satisfied smirk appears on his face, and he mutters, "filthy fucking slut." You whine at his words, and it has you clenching down onto the silicone filling your cunt.

Layla, however, was not amused. She shoves your face down onto the mattress and leans over you to deliver a harsh slap to Marc's face. He moans at the contact, relieved to finally get some sort of stimulation. Before the sting can even settle over his skin, she delivers another. Then, she removes her weight from you and pulls your head up once more.

“That wasn’t very nice, was it baby?” You don’t respond, honestly wishing he'd do it again.

“Oh, you liked it didn’t you, naughty little thing.” You moan at her teasing and look Marc in the eyes, whining, "I want something in my mouth.”

He jolts forward, wanting to break free and give you what you want. An anticipative look crosses his face, and he hopes Layla will make him part of your reward.

“Oh, I'm sorry baby. Here you go.” Determined to keep Marc out of this, Layla hooks her fingers into your mouth. She chuckles at Marc's reaction as she sees his shoulders slump, clearly disappointed. You immediately wrap your lips around her digits and he zeros in on your movements, imagining it was him in your mouth instead.

Her thrusts become more brutal, each one knocking the thoughts right out of your head. You feel yourself mentally slipping, unable to form even one coherent sentence. All you can do is babble nonsense, hoping she understands how close you are to your release. Layla drags your head up by your hair and you face Marc again, mouth open and drooling down into the sheets. He's seen that look before and he knows you're right on the edge. He looks you right in the eyes and whispers, " Do it, baby. Cum." He's not even sure you heard him, but your eyes immediately roll to the back of your head, and you start shaking. Layla holds you against her, knowing you love the closeness and skin to skin contact when you fall apart. All you can feel is white hot pleasure and you're crying out, mouth open in a silent scream as you gasp for breath. You don't even have time to come down from your climax before Layla starts pounding into you again, hard and fast. She holds you down, making you cum again and again.

When she can tell you've had enough, she stops her movements but stays planted inside you to the hilt, knowing you don’t want to feel empty just yet. She runs her hands all over you, trying to bring you back to her and help steady your breathing. You can't tell how much time has passed but when you're finally conscious of your surroundings again, the first thing you see is Marc's pitiful form in front of you. You want to help him. His angry red tip looks painful, and you actually start to feel bad for him. You somehow muster up the strength to reach an arm out to him and he looks at you lovingly. You were just fucked into oblivion, but you still want to make sure he feels good. It makes him smile and he desperately wants to pull you into his arms.

“Can I touch him, please?” You look over your shoulder and give Layla your best puppy dog eyes, hoping she'll cave like she always does when you look at her like that. She arches her brow at you and asks, “Am I not enough, sweetheart?”

“No! You are!” you reply frantically, immediately regretting your words. You continue, “Just look at him. So pathetic. I think he's learned his lesson.” He's been waiting so long and he’s so frustrated he can feel tears starting to form in his eyes. “Please. I'm so sorry. I'll behave. I promise." he begs.

She sighs, feeling conflicted. She knows she has pushed him hard but he did deserve it. She feels herself turning soft at that needy look in his eyes and concedes. She knows what he really wants. He wants one of you to ride him until he sees stars. This is still a punishment, however, so she decides to give him another form of relief.

Leaning down and kissing the crown on your head, she checks in, making sure you're not too overworked. She really gave it to you hard and wants to make sure you don't overdo it. "Are you sure? You look a little worn out." You're touched by her concern but nod eagerly.

"Go ahead baby. He can have your mouth." The sigh of relief that leaves Marc makes you want to laugh. You turn back to him, and your outstretched hand moves to caress his face. He leans into your touch, and kisses at the palm of your hand. You slide it down off his face and Layla helps you to your knees. He makes the most pitiful noise when you take him into your mouth, finally feeling the relief he's waited hours for. You have him cumming in just a few minutes and he thanks both of you profusely.

You're all exhausted, but that doesn't stop them from loving on you. Layla goes to draw a bath while Marc picks you up off the floor, placing soft kisses all over your face. He carries you to the bathroom, where Layla begins to do the same as Marc places you in the tub. The feeling of their love wraps you like a warm blanket, relaxing your mind as the bath water relaxes your tired muscles. You're half asleep when you all finally pile into bed, cuddling up close to one another. Layla lays you in the middle of them the middle and they wrap their arms around you and each other. Not having the energy tonight, you and Marc will be sure to give her a proper 'welcome home' in the morning.

#moon knight #moon knight smut #marc spector #marc spector x reader #marc spector smut #marc spector x layla el faouly #marc spector x reader x layla el faouly #steven grant #jake lockley

[hollyhomburg]

its one of those days where i just want to state every bit of my life w you guys so here we go rapid fire instead of making a million posts about it

i have started a new workout and! my legs look and feel like jelly!!! ten/ten would recommend i'm gonna have such a booty!!!

i do not know if i actually enjoy working out or if i just enjoy going on tictock so much it distracts me from working out. about 2 years ago i gave myself the rule of "you cannot go on tik tok from the hours of 6-10 unless you are working out" because i was literally just sitting and scrolling for hours and! now i workout everyday.

i have discovered that the key to my productivity is literally just putting my phone out of sight, not even hiding it if i just can't see it from the vantage point of my computer i am so so so much more productive.

(cw: little space mention) i had pastries for breakfast!!! lots of choco ones! and its making me feel very small! i went through such a period of time where i wasn't going into little space? like my brain just wasn't letting go but the switch flipped back this week and now i just wanna be tiny all the time 😞

Hopefully! I will finish the rough draft of the bily chapter today! we're on track for another chapter this weekend!

[hecatemoon87]

Eames Initiates A New Recruit

Request by @wandawiccan60

Warnings - Smut

Cobb, Arthur and Eames gazed upon the strange contraption in a state of awe. They’ve never seen anything quite like it before. It looked similar to an airport body scanner. It consisted mainly of a glass tube that stood about seven feet tall and five feet wide. Below it was a metal plate with ridges and the material that sat on top the device appeared to be some sort of gray plastic.

“So this is a teleportation machine?” Arthur asked, walking around the newly erected object that now took up space in the warehouse. 

“It is. Lila just finished setting it up an hour ago,” Cobb replied. 

“Bloody hell, you want me to go in that damned thing?” Eames questioned. 

“Aw, are you scared, Eames?” Lila said, as she joined the team. 

Lila Amar had been recruited by Cobb a few weeks back. She was hired because she was one of six people on the planet that knew how to operate a Particle Relocation Excelerator or P.R.E for short. Cobb was no longer interested in doing inception gigs as they had become too dangerous for him to participate in. Likewise, Arthur and Eames had decided they were done after the Saito job. They had put the PASIV to bed and now were attempting to use the P.R.E. to perform simple in and out heists. 

P.R.E.s were of course not sellable on the market. This one was conveniently misplaced during a delivery to a U.S. military base in New Mexico. Cobb had gotten in touch with Lila, the daughter of a military scientist who had invented the P.R.E. Cobb had been friends with her father and when her father died Cobb decided to check on Lila. She was an M.I.T. graduate, very smart but easily bored. So when Cobb hinted at a job that was not only high risk, but very illegal she jumped at such an exciting opportunity. 

“Darling Lila, yes, I am very afraid. That thing is relatively new technology, anything could happen while we are using it,” Eames replied. 

“Lila, just exactly how many tests have been performed on humans? The last I read, this thing was only being used for cargo?” Arthur asked. 

“Oh, I dunno, maybe like a couple hundred?” Lila said. “I’ve used it a few times.”

“You have?” Cobb asked.

“Yeah, well, in an unofficial capacity…” she said. 

“Any risks?” Cobb further inquired. 

“Of course, if you don’t calibrate the P.R.E. correctly you could teleport to the second site without your head or your arms, maybe even your legs,” she said, shrugging. 

All three men gazed at her in horror, especially Eames. 

“What? Oh, we’ll be fine! I know what I’m doing, I’m a professional,” Lila quipped. 

“Lila, I’ve only known you for four weeks. Within those four weeks I’ve surmised that you are perhaps the most high risk woman I’ve ever met,” Eames quipped. 

“Why thank you,” she said, grinning.

“I’m not complimenting you, love,” Eames said.

“And here I thought you were the fun one,” she teased, walking over to the P.R.E. control panel. 

Both her and Eames were wearing dark gray jumpsuits that were made of a material coated in neoprene, a heat resistant chemical. They each held helmets that looked very similar to motorcycle protection gear. Those too were coated and reinforced against heat. 

“Let’s get this show on the road,” Lila said as she flipped three switches and then pressed a large green button on the side of the control panel. 

The machine whooshed on and made a faint whirring sound. She then typed in a series of codes, initiating the sequence. A row of blue lights that flanked the glass tube on either side flicked on one by one, rising from the bottom and ending at the top. Once the lights were fully luminated an odd pulsating vibration emanated out from the vessel. 

“If my bloody legs or arms don’t follow me to the other side, I’m going to kill you Arthur,” Eames said. 

“How will you kill me if you don’t have arms or legs?” Arthur asked, smugly. 

“Bon voyage,” Cobb said, smiling at Eames. 

“Ah, well, fuck you too,” Eames said, cheekily. 

Eames secured his helmet and bent down to pick up a large suitcase. Lila stepped inside the tube and he joined her within. There was a second panel inside the tube and Lila completed the final sequence by entering in the exact coordinates of the financial institution they planned to rob. If done properly, the P.R.E. would locate them directly in front of the vault. After the code was completed the P.R.E. began making a high pitched noise that would have been deafening if they had not been wearing helmets. 

“Oh, for christ sake,” Eames groaned.

He squeezed his eyes shut tight as he felt the environment around him heat up and then he felt a rush of energy encompass his body. For a moment, he thought he was falling through space and time. As quickly as they had departed, they abruptly arrived at the second site. Lila had to hit his arm to make him aware they were now standing in front of the giant vault. He carefully opened his eyes and pulled his helmet off. 

“Oh, you’re gonna need these,” Lila said, handing him a small packet of tissues. 

“What are these…” Eames started to ask, but then a wave of nausea hit him. 

Luckily, there was a garbage bin sitting off to the corner and Eames made it just in time to vomit his guts out. Lila stood patiently off to the side as Eames heaved over the bin. Once he was done, he stood up and extracted a few tissues and wiped his mouth. 

“Lila…why didn’t you tell me that was going to happen?” he asked, calming turning to face her. 

“Everyone throws up on the first go, I didn’t wanna ruin the surprise for you,” she said, smiling. 

“Bloody woman…” Eames grumbled as he opened the suitcase. 

They needed to get out of the jumpsuits and into security guard uniforms. The thing about the P.R.E. is that it could get you to the second location. But if there wasn’t another P.R.E. located on the second site, you had to figure out another way to get back to the initial launch site. Eames glanced up to catch Lila removing her jumpsuit. Underneath the suit you could only wear your underwear. As she peeled off the suit he could see how voluptuous her frame was. He watched as she wiggled her bottom as she forced the suit down. She glanced up as she stepped out of the suit. 

“Enjoying the show, handsome?” she said, tossing the suit over Eames face. 

He pulled her suit off his head and stuffed it into the suitcase. He then threw her uniform towards her. 

“I’ll admit, you do have a lovely ass,” he said, unapologetically. 

“See, I knew you were the fun one,” she said as she got dressed. 

Now that they were both dressed in their security guard uniforms, complete with forged badges, they moved toward the access panel at the entrance to the vault. Eames already had the codes and he typed them into the panel. It was a set of codes and they had to be entered in a timed manner. Meaning that after each code was entered they needed to wait for a green light to flash. Then he had to immediately enter the next set of codes correctly or else the alarm system would trigger.

Once Eames completed the sequence the vault opened and they stepped into a semi-large room filled with individual security boxes. 

“We’re looking for 7, 21, 48, 37 and 99,” Ian said, referring to the number assigned to the security boxes. 

Inside these five security boxes were diamonds. Recently, diamonds were being created through man-made methods. The authenticity of true diamonds mined from the earth were becoming a rare commodity. The idea was that in a few more years, those kinds of diamonds would become priceless. And within those security boxes were those kinds of diamonds. They quickly found each box and carefully secured the diamonds into the suitcase. They completed their task in about twenty minutes and zipped up the suitcase. 

“Alright, let’s move,” Eames said. 

They exited the vault, closed it again and rearmed the alarm. The tricky bit would be moving through the building with a large suitcase. They were on the fifth floor of a thirty story building in London. The best route would be using the service elevators. Luckily, both Eames and Lila knew how to act casual in high stress situations. They said their friendly good mornings to staff and kept calm as they descended in the service elevator. As they reached the ground floor they moved swiftly to the rear exit and stepped out into an alleyway. 

A small blue Volvo was parked toward the end of the alley. It was placed there an hour ago by a London contact. Eames reached under the front of the car and felt for the keys that had been secured there. Once the keys were in his hand he unlocked the car, popped the trunk and placed the suitcase within. Then he and Lila got into the car and drove off toward a safe house Cobb had set up for them a month prior to the job. 

It was time to relax and Eames was glad to get out of the security guard suit and took a hot shower. He took his toothbrush into the shower as well and brushed his teeth for a good five minutes. He had tasted his own vomit for the past two hours and it was driving him crazy. Stepping out of the shower he dried off and returned to his room. He took a second glance at his bed and was surprised to see Lila sitting on the bed. She was only in her bra and panties. They were dark red, Eames favorite lingerie color. 

“And just what do you think you’re doing?” he said, learning on the doorframe.

He was taking her all in. She was beautiful and he didn’t mind the view. 

“Oh, you don’t know? Okay, I can say it slowly for you,” she said, sitting up on the bed.

She settled on her haunches, giving him a good view of her breasts as she removed her bra. 

“Do. Me.” she said. 

“I’m going to ignore the fact that you’re a condescending little miss,” he said, smiling. 

He walked over to the bed, dropping his towel and joining her on top of the sheets. He laced an arm behind her lower back and pulled her tight against him. With his other hand he hooked a finger under her chin and kissed her passionately. Her breasts were pressed into his chest, but her petite hands found purchase on his cock. Eames moaned into her mouth as she began stroking his stiffening cock. 

“Something tells me you like it rough,” Eames said, breaking the kiss. 

“You’re not just a pretty face are you?” she whispered over his lips. 

“I’m going to ruin your little cunt. Then we’ll see how paternozing you are afterwards” he growled. 

He pushed her onto her back and removed her panties. He grabbed her legs and forced them open. He licked two of his fingers, all the while giving her full eye contact and then glided his fingers up into her cunt. 

“Eames! Yes!” Lila moaned and bucked her hips. 

“Fucking little bitch, you like to think you’re smarter than everyone don’t you?” he said, pumping his fingers in and out of her quivering cunt. 

Lila was mewling like a kitten. When Eames’ thumb connected with her clit her eyes rolled back and she closed them, releasing a very sexy moan and bucking her hips again.

“Oh, fuck, yes, please Eames, I’m such a bad girl,” she cried. 

“Yeah, you are, fucking sexy little slut,” he said. 

He alternated from pumping his two fingers inside her walls to massaging her clit. He would pause the thrusting, but kept his fingers buried inside her. His thumb began working her nub with enthusiasm and he watched her edge close to her orgasm. As her walls clenched around his fingers and her clit became more and more swollen he stopped and removed his fingers before she could cum. 

“Huh? What are you…” Lila asked, upset. 

“Shut up and come here,” he said, pulling her off the bed and forcing her to her knees on the floor. 

He leveled her face with his cock, his hand behind her head, his fingers laced through her silky hair. 

“Bad girls can’t get their way all the time, can they? Now, fill your sluttly mouth with my fucking cock, yeah?” 

Her eyes hungrily stared up at him and she willingly opened her mouth. He then slid his cock into her mouth. Her hands came up and gripped his ass cheeks hard. He didn’t even have to control her head, she deep throated his cock like it was her business. 

“Fuck,” Eames gasped, not expecting to have lost control so soon. 

With a fury she consumed him, sucking and licking. Eames was so thick, so big and Lila was enjoying filling her mouth with such a gorgeous cock. He allowed her to continue her feral devotion to his dick until he decided he wanted to regain control. He grabbed a fist full of her hair and pulled back. Her mouth released his cock and she looked up at him with defiance. 

“What? Can’t British men handle a good blow job?” she said. 

“Jesus, you don’t know when to shut up do you?” Eames replied. 

He was enjoying this. What a fine little slut Lila was turning out to be. He wasn’t really surprised, she had always seemed to take pleasure in all things thrilling. 

“No, I don’t. Maybe I need a spanking?” she said. 

He man-handled her off the floor and sat down on the bed. He pulled her over his lap and his hand connected hard with her ass. She let out a delicious moan and begged him to continue. He spanked her until her bottom was blooming red, but Lila was all the while crying out with pleasure. 

“Oh, harder!” she cried. 

“I’ll give you hard,” Eames said, throwing her onto her stomach on the bed. 

He grabbed her by the hips, by now she was dripping wet. He saw it literally coating her inner thighs. 

“Damn, that’s so fucking hot,” he muttered. 

He lined his cock up against her opening and plunged into her. It split her open and she widened her legs around him, allowing him to go as deep as he wanted. Eames was eager and he began to pound her cunt with vigor. 

“Like that, huh? Fucking say my name you slut,” Eames demanded. 

“Eames, yes! Please, daddy, fuck me hard!” she screamed.

“That’s right, fucking hell,” Eames moaned as he railed her. “Such a tight little pussy. I’d I’ve thought you let every man fuck you, but this sweet little cunny is too tight.” 

“More, please, more!” she wailed. 

The sound of flesh upon flesh filled the empty room. There was just one thing that they had forgotten about the safe house. There were cameras everywhere. Eames had forgotten to disarm the one in the bedroom. 

Eames stopped pounding her and removed himself abruptly. Upset by the abandonment of her his cock, Lila turned around and glared at him. 

“What the fuck, Eames?” she whined. 

Eames didn’t say anything, he just grabbed her and pushed he then pushed her up against the wall. He then lifted her up with ease by her hips and she wrapped her legs against him. He then reentered her cunt, once again splitting her walls open. 

“Oh, you beautiful bastard!” she cried. 

He silenced her by shoving his tongue into her mouth. He kissed her hard as he thrusted her into the wall. It was so overwhelming for Lila that she broke the kiss and hung her head back slightly. Eames pressed her hard against the wall, burying himself deeper into her hot core. He kissed and nipped at her neck. She locked herself around his waist with her well toned legs and Eames brought his hands up to her nipples. He gave them a good pinch and then massaged them until all her senses were on fire. 

“Fuck, oh fuck!” Lila cried as her orgasm poured out of her clit. 

Eames could feel her cream coating his cock. He moaned and returned his hands to her hips. He finished by ramming her so hard the entire wall shook. Then, the tip of his cock exploded inside her, filling her up with his cum. She moaned and clenched around him tighter. Tears were spilling out over her cheeks from the pure ecstasy she was experiencing from Eames. He burrowed his face into her neck as he came, moaning deep, his chest vibrating from the exertion. 

He went limp, both his cock and his body. Sliding out of her, he eased her gently down from the wall. Lila’s legs were rubber and she sank down to the floor. Eames slipped his hands under her arms and carefully placed her on the bed. 

“You alright, love?” Eames asked. 

She looked at him dreamily. 

“Never better, Ian,” she said. 

He grinned, pleased with himself that he had pretty much rendered her speechless. 

A few days later, Cobb and Arthur showed up to the safe house. They weren’t entirely too eager to use the P.R.E. without Lila being present to work the machine. They had taken a plane from Rome to London instead. 

“How’d everything go?” Cobb said, setting his luggage down in the living room.

“Swimmingly,” Eames replied. 

Arthur had logged into the computer, checking out the security feed to the house. His phone had triggered an activity recording and he was just being cautious since they had over one million USD in diamonds in the safe house. He hit play and sat silent as he watched it. Then he casually spun his chair around and looked over at Lila and Eames. Lila was perched on the couch, eating an apple and Eames was sitting, mansplayed in an overstuffed chair across from Arthur. 

“You too seem to be getting along better than before,” Arthur said. 

Eames arched an eyebrow at his odd comment. 

“What are you going on about?” Eames asked. 

Lila was quicker in the intellect department than Eames and her eyes glanced up to the camera blinking in the living room corner. She carefully swallowed her bite of apple and looked hard at Eames. 

“Eames, did you remember turning off the camera in your bedroom the other night?”

“Of course I…” Eames started, then his eyes widened. 

He got up from his chair and pushed Arthur away from the computer. He caught the part where he forced Lila back onto the bed and was railing her from behind. The audio was on mute. 

“Fuck,” Eames said. 

“Yeah, that’s what you're doing to Lila,” Arthur said, grinning. 

“Shut up, Arthur,” Eames growled as he closed the application. 

#ian eames #inception #eames smut #tom hardy #tom hardy fanfiction #tom hardy fanfic #tom hardy fan fic #tom hardy smut

[kagiura-akira]

Hirano and Kagiura and the lost tabby cat

This isn't much but part of the kagihira cat dad WIP that has some Hanzawa centric bits. It's nowhere near finished this is just a hint of the WIP (featuring Daxter who has been instagram comic-ified)

Hanzawa Masato here. Eighteen years old, third year student at Fujisawa South Second High School. I have a lot of positions - ping pong club captain, head of the disciplinary committee, and RA just to name a few. But recently I've acquired a new position: feline guardian.

Now you may be asking, "Hanzawa-san, what kind of position is that?"

There's a good explanation to that, but first we have to look back about two weeks, to explain the events that led me to this responsibility.

As the head of so many activities, I have a very strict schedule. Every morning I wake up, study, make my rounds in the dorm before breakfast, then head to school. I have a very keen eye for rough housing and suspicious activity, so I'm always on the lookout for trouble. That leads us to one particularly cold night in December. It was just after the dorm Christmas party.

“Hirano-san, where are you taking me? It's cold out here.” Kagiura rubbed his arms, his teeth nearly echoing in the stillness of the night as they chattered. His roommate walked behind him, holding his hands to his eyes to blindfold him as he steered him in an unknown direction. Kagiura, with his eyes still closed like the obedient kouhai he was, shivered for a multitude of reasons, but largely in anticipation.

“It's a surprise, Kagi-kun,” Hirano brushed him off, refusing to reveal any details before they reached their destination. “Now stay right here,” he said, halting him and taking him by the shoulders to turn him in the opposite direction. Judging by the way the wind was harsher up here, they must have wandered to a hilltop of some sort. “Okay, now keep your eyes closed for just a minute or two longer. It's not quite time yet.”

Hirano kept quiet about the ordeal, offering no details whatsoever and not allowing Kagi any sort of hint as to what was happening. He had only dragged Kagiura out of the Christmas party by hand just a few minutes ago, with no explanation as to why or where he was taking him.

After a few moments of silence passed by, Hirano spoke up. “Okay, you can open your eyes in 5... 4... 3... 2... 1...”

When he opened his eyes, Kagiura had to blink a few times to clear his vision. The first thing that stood out was a bright electronic billboard situated on top of a hill across the way from the hilltop that they stood on. Suddenly, as if a switch was turned on, the billboard flipped animations from an advertisement for the local convenience store to a bright blue and yellow animated text, reading “Happy seventeenth birthday, Kagiura Akira, Fujisawa South High School Basketball Team's #11.”

Too stunned for words, Kagiura was almost worryingly silent, but Hirano soon interrupted that silence with an interjection, “Happy birthday, Kagi-kun!”

“Thank you, Hirano-san!” His eyes glimmered as he looked back at him, holding his hand to his heart as if to keep it from leaping out of his chest. “That's so awesome!”

“Ehehe, enjoy it a bit longer. It will only stay up for the next four minutes or so,” Hirano admitted, rubbing his arms to try to chase away the bitter cold of the December night. Kagiura threw one arm around his shoulders to give him a side hug as they watched it a tiny bit longer.

“Hirano-san, what's that tiny black spot on the billboard? The one that's moving,” Kagiura pointed with his mitten to a round black spot at the base of the billboard. Hirano squinted to try to get a look, but it was too far away and too obscure and thus warranted further investigation.

“I'm not sure what it is, but let's get a closer look. It looks like something is stuck up there.”

The two took care to look both ways before crossing the street to inspect the billboard more closely, and as they got closer, a small, high-pitched screeching noise became louder and louder until it became recognizable as a kitten's meow, crying for help in the cold winter night as it had somehow climbed the electrical wires of the billboard but couldn't manage to get back down. Kagiura acted immediately, rushing to find the ladder to the back of the billboard, then climbed up with care.

“Here kitty kitty,” he said quietly. “Let me help you down. It's too cold to be up here at night all by yourself.” He unwrapped the fleece scarf around his neck and spread it out as he approached the kitten, which rightfully shivered in the cold breeze up high.

“Careful, Kagi-kun!” Hirano called out. Though Kagiura couldn't hear everything he said, he understood the general sentiment.

The kitten, on the other hand, continued to scream. Looking at it close up, it couldn't have been more than a couple months old. With its chubby body, it wasn't malnourished in any capacity, and its orange fur was well maintained; there were no mats or any signs of abandonment. This poor little guy had to belong to someone. Even as Kagiura approached it slowly, it still backed away cautiously, wary of this new human. Eventually, once he was within petting range, he wrapped the scarf around the kitten, then bundled it up into a burrito with the scarf (a purrito, if you will), then tucked the bundle into his jacket and zipped up the jacket to secure it inside.

“Don't squirm around, little one,” Kagiura told it as it squirmed around, trying its hardest to escape the safety of his coat. It put up a good fight the entire trip down, as Kagiura backed down the ladder of the structure, but ultimately stopped resisting once they reached the ground.

Kagiura ran over to Hirano immediately to present the small cat to him, unzipping his coat and passing over to him, still wrapped in his scarf much like a bit of salmon in a maki roll. Hirano took the kitten when shoved in his face, but to say he was surprised was an understatement. Her whole body shivered from the cold, her tiny body not padded enough to withstand the harsh winter.

“I think she belongs to someone, Hirano-san,” Kagiura said, petting it on the head with his index finger. “She's not too old, and she's not starving or unkempt.”

“Might have gotten lost in the Christmas traffic, I guess,” Hirano mused.

“Let's keep her until we find her owners. It's too cold out here for a kitten to survive alone,” Kagi suggested.

Hirano sighed. “Kagi-kun, you know we can't keep pets in the dorm,” he said. “Hanzawa would find out immediately. Have you ever even taken care of a cat before?”

“Once when I was a kid - there was a stray that used to visit my grandparents' house every night. Please, Hirano-san! It's just until we find her owners. Given how healthy she looks, they must have taken really good care of her. Surely she's missed! We can't let her suffer out here on her own.” Kagiura's lips formed a pout, and his eyes started to tear up a little in genuine concern for the small feline.

Hirano sighed again, clearly not pleased with the predicament, but willing to compromise. He pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger before combing his hair back with his fingers to push it out of his face. “Fine, but if anyone finds out, the cat has to go to the shelter.”

Kagiura cheered, then took the kitten back from Hirano and stuffed it back in his coat. “I don't know what your name is, but for now I'll call you Chi-chan,” he said to the orange tabby. She meowed in response, neither seeming to agree nor disagree.

Two hours and a visit to the pet store later, the two took great caution when returning to the dorms to keep their newest roommate hidden from the other residents, especially Hanzawa. Hirano went in first with the bag of food and litter, unlocking the door for Kagi so he could easily slip in without worrying about trying to unlock the door quickly. Once inside, Kagi's knees sunk to the floor of the genkan, and he unzipped his coat to allow the little bundle inside to explore the room. Hirano was setting up the little dishes of food and water and small enclosed litterbox, hidden from view from the doorway by his mattress. Surprisingly, she hadn't made a peep the whole way, likely too cold to do anything but simply shiver.

#hirano to kagiura #hanzawa masato #kagihira #hirano taiga #kagiura akira #hirakagi #my wips #Htk pet edition

[nikkxb]

Y'all, it's been a year.

I have some absolutely wonderful asks in my inbox. They've been bright moments over the last few months. I will get to them, but please know I see them.

I've written absolutely nothing since the Inu-spiration reverse bang in June. Not a single word. I'm not stressing about it, though I've received some lovely comments since then on a few of my fics. I've been slowly working my way through responding to those comments and I'll be taking each day as it comes. I have no promises. I know what I want to finish. I know what's important to me to work on. I cannot make any guarantees.

Work has been good. Stressful recently -- I switched over to an online booking system and have a small handful of clients who are fighting tooth and nail against the change. I knew this was coming and prepared for it, but it's still exhausting and frustrating to deal with. (On the flip side, it's been a fucking dream of an asset with a great majority of my clients.) And I'm getting busier, so there's that.

Personal life is...a handful:

Me and the husband are great. We're dealing with a few things in our relationship, but we're working through them and he's still my lobster.

My relationship with my family is great; their relationship, not so much. One sister has been having massive problems with her husband, to the point that we genuinely don't know if we'll see him next year for Christmas. It's been very stressful and very hard to talk about.

Two very close friends of mine are going through a divorce. It wouldn't be messy if he (my closer friend of the two) would accept the consequences of his actions and let her fucking go. But it seems like he's having to learn a lot of things the hard way and I'm not sure what will be left of our friendship when all's said and done.

Husband and I are in the process of buying the townhome we live in. It was sprung on us a little over a week ago and while I'm trying to keep everything organized, it's been a mess. And so incredibly stressful. It would be one thing if we were buying because we were ready to; another thing entirely to be buying because the alternative is to find another place to rent in the worst renting market I've ever seen.

I went to a book convention that was an amazing experience, spent a lot of money, bought a lot of books, met a ton of wonderful people. Started reading said books -- and I absolutely hated the first four I picked up. Definitely worried that I'll hate most of the books I bought, which has done wonderful things whenever I remember how much money I spent. /s (Silver lining is that those four books were only from two authors. Much easier to accept I don't like an author than a ton of unconnected books.)

My house is a mess. It's an absolute mess. The only clean room is our bedroom and I refuse to do anything but sleep and read in there. Everywhere else is cluttered and messy and disorganized and such a visual stress, I haven't been able to do anything. I'm sure once it's cleaned, I'll be able to decompress, but the house has been like this since the beginning of June and I don't know how to fix it.

That's the cut and dry of it. I tried to keep it condensed. I'm sure there's more.

A lot of good happened this year, too, but I'm mostly just letting y'all know I'm alive, I'm okay, and why I've been so silent. Hoping to see more of you in the new year.

Oh, did I miss anything? Is there really porn back on tumblr?

#me #personal

[podcastlimbo]

So I wrote a little ficlet about OW and his mysterious first love ;3

-

His hand was warm in mine, and he looked… fairly earnest when he vowed, "I'll come back for you one day."

I tilted my head, and said nothing.

"I love you.” 

Somehow, I doubted that even more than I had the first statement. But he looked so damned persuasive in that perfectly-pressed sailor's coat rested fetchingly across his shoulders — the kind of coat that was smart yet tastefully worn, as if to say, 'Yes, I've been out to sea, but in a way that makes me more of a seasoned sea-captain rather than sun-baked fisherman' — and I kind of just let it slide.

We broke apart, and I watched the ship he boarded lift anchor and push off from the harbour, waving my embroidered silk handkerchief — as you do — until my love was no more than a speck in the horizon.

I looked back at the seaside town, and like a switch had been flipped, it no longer seemed as quaint and charming as when I’d arrived, all those months ago. As though the mere absence of one man was enough to make its streetlights burn harsher, the faces at windows that much unfriendlier, the smell of the ocean to wander from ‘refreshingly briny’ to ‘frankly nauseating’.

I’d be stationed here for a week more, just until I finished my latest obituary. Yet, I could already hear my typewriter, sat back at my recently-emptied apartment, along with the odds-and-ends I’d collected over my time here, calling to be packed away in the trunk of my car and whisked off to The-Angel-of-Death-knows-where, so long as it was far, far away from this borderline miserable town. It was a call I’d answer no matter where or when I’d hear it.

The writing was on the wall, clear as the stenciled, ‘HMS Faithful’ freshly stamped across the ship currently carrying my first love (my only love) further and further from my side. Evidently, it was time for me to move on as well.

#death by dying #death by dying podcast #death by dying spoilers #kind of? #my writing is very rusty and ive never done death by dying fanfic before but trying to emulate OWs voice is fun!

[non-stop-imagines]

Meeraaaaaa first, I genuinely hope that you’re doing good 🖤 second, I am so excited for the following wips! and third, along with that can you share a lil snippet or teaser of the one that’ll be for Mr Ricciardo? That man does things to me😶‍🌫️

Hiiiiii! I'm doing good even though this week kinda kicked my butt! It's Friday tho 🥳🥳!

Anyhoo, let's get to the good stuff. Here is the first portion of the yet to be named Daniel fic. It took me a while to answer this (sorry 😬) only because I was still trying to figure out how I was going to structure it but now I think I got it (and the Carlos one too;even though that one is still going through modifications). Damn, I talk too much 😮‍💨😮‍💨, anyway here it is. 😘😘 (and I'll give y'all the header again too cause I love it 🩵 also this is not edited at all sooo... 🧍🏿‍♀️)

________

"Now, tell me again why we are doing this?" You sit to tie your tan and white Jordan 1's, Daniel's hands soon replacing yours in the process, finishing the jobs for you on one foot and then beckoning for the other foot, which you give.

"I'm leaving tomorrow for Faenza for 2 weeks, so I made sure I left today fully open and I continuously reminded you to keep today clear, so we can spend the day together." He smiles briefly up at you then finishes tying before standing and, albeit unnecessarily, taking your hand to assist with you standing again. It was something he always did, but you knew why. Since getting married almost 2 years ago, he would grab your left hand to help you up, and you would always feel his thumb run over the ring on your finger, the sap.

"Aw, you mush. You're so freaking cute, you know that?" You purposefully use your left hand to squeeze his cheeks. You loved the sight before you, manicured hands and shiny wedding ring wrapped around the scruffy, goofily smiling face of your husband, surprised his pupils weren't in the shape of hearts with how he was looking at you. You were going to bring his face in for a kiss, but instead his arms reach behind you to grip your ass pulling you in for a kiss, your arm trapped between you two and hand still on his face. As squeeze from Daniel's hand is ended the kiss, you shocked from the sensation.

"Boy, you always have your hands on my butt." You swat at him so he could let you go and you could go and grab a few more items before you left.

"Because, we're married now. That's our butt." He smacks it as you walk by and then head to the kitchen prepare your guys' matching water bottles for the day.

"When you say all day, you mean all day. You only fill our waters when we won't be home for hours." You take your cup and take a sip from your straw as you walk out the door, which Daniel opened for you and straggled behind to lock before jogging to open the car door for you.

"Need to stay hydrated. We're also getting coffee, and you know it makes you feel anxious unless you drink water as well." He makes sure you're in the car before closing the door and jogging to his side and climbing in. At first he doesn't start the car. He just looks at you as you file through your purse to make sure you had everything, a soft, dazed look in his eyes and a matching grin on his lips, but when you look at him it was like a switch flipped on behind his eyes, brightening both them and his smile. "Let's go have some fun."

#black reader #anon #f1 imagines #formula 1 x black!reader #wip #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo

[tyo-mimt]

12/36. @tmnt-event-blog

A grocery run leaves the turtles snowed out of their home.

Being snowed-in would've been preferable to this. Raph was right, and Leo didn't want to admit it.

The grocery shopping (if it could even be called that; it was more like shoplifting with how they didn't pay for anything) should've been done before snow fell. Made sense: manhole covers were significantly more difficult to open than doors when snow piled on. Plus, the projected snowfall was getting heavier as heavier as time went on.

Alas, he put it off. Week after week, the snow piled up and he postponed the task too much. Now he was regretting the relics of his bad decisions. And he was regretting it even more because he dragged everyone out of the lair for this.

Watching the snowfall build up in to the ankles of their boots, Leo stepped back from the area the manhole cover was supposed to be. He didn't even want to turn to his brothers, knowing the looks on their faces wouldn't exactly be pleased.

All right, maybe he also wanted to avoid that I told you so look on Raph's face.

Leaning back on a leg and feigning nonchalance, Leo spoke, "I'm guessing the garage entrance is also blocked."

"Leo, we tried leaving from there," Raph dropped the bag of groceries on the snow.

Mikey walked ahead with both grocery bags in his arms.

Donnie sighed, "I shall repeat what I said two hours ago: We would require a snow plow to clear the path."

"Right..." Leo trailed off. They didn't bring their weapons (they proved to be difficult to conceal in already tight winter clothing anyway). "This here arm doesn't happen to have a shovel in it, right?"

"What? Are you crazy? Of course I built a shovel into it." Donnie pulled one of Leo's bags out of the prosthetic arm, pulling the limb over and flipping a panel open. He flicked a switch on his forearm, the limb transforming into a shovel. "I put it there in case I need it to dig your grave."

"You know, I'd be insulted if I wasn't impressed."

"No matter what, you'll always be impressed," Donnie preened, "I also put in a tactical knife, a saw, and a flamethrower. But don't use the last one too often; there's limited gas."

Okay... One of those things is not like the other.

"Donnie, is my arm explosion-proof?"

Donnie paused. Leo wasn't the only one who was staring. The softshell placed a hand on the metal forearm, tapping it twice before clearing his throat. "Uh, probably."

Note to self: keep the arm away from highly explosive environments. Fire was more Mikey's thing anyway.

Just as Leo turned to the entrance, he watched as Raph got to work at digging through the snow. He took the spot next to him and started tunneling though the pile. It didn't take much time for them to finish the job, though when the metal of the shovel hit the top of the manhole cover, Leo felt the air shift.

The sky went overcast and thick with clouds as small crystalline snowflakes fell from the sky and back onto the ground. He was tempted to pick up the pace, but there was something magical about the snowfall when viewed in person.

Turning around, Leo could see Mikey shrugging and falling shell-first into the piling snow. Donnie's exasperated groan turned to an amused chuckle as the box turtle pulled him down to join him in making those snow angels. Raph seemed to find the youngest's energy contagious, the annoyance he previously had melting away as he picked up balls of snow.

"Hey, Leo... Let's just ask dad to open a portal for us later."

The slider made the mistake of turning to Mikey, immediately getting a face full of snow. Okay, he was expecting Raph to pull a dirty stunt like that...

"Uncalled for!"

"And?"

The competitive grin on the box turtle's face melted away all the prior iciness from before. Leo put on a grin. The groceries can wait.

#rottmnt #tmnt holiday bingo #snow day play #rottmnt leo #rottmnt raph #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt donnie

[sinceileftyoublog]

Andrew Combs Interview: A Journal of Transformation

Photo by Alysse Gafkjen

BY JORDAN MAINZER

Making music didn’t save Andrew Combs, but it helped return him to homeostasis. 

Around Christmas 2020, Combs suffered a mental breakdown that lasted a few weeks. Exactly how long it lasted, nobody knows; time is indeterminate for such a phenomenon, as it’s not like a flip switches and it’s over. But sitting down and forcing himself to write songs, after practicing transcendental meditation, helped Combs transition from a vulnerable period of time. Specifically, at the suggestion of friend and collaborator Jordan Lehning, Combs would write every week and enter the studio on Sunday to record the song he’d finished that week. Combs spent 7 or 8 of these Sundays recording, and he ended up with an album named after the very day that represented this state of reflection, Sundays, out this Friday via Tone Tree.

Due to the unique recording schedule and the nature of the time, Combs knew he wanted to keep things simple and record in mono. During the initial pandemic lockdown, he had already written two songs, and those were the first Combs, Lehning, and drummer Dominic Billet laid down. Eventually, they tracked more songs as Combs wrote them. At the time the recording of Sundays was going on, Lehning was working on a record with Katie Pruitt that was using woodwinds, and eventually, he suggested to Combs that woodwinds would work on a lot of the Sundays songs, adding texture without taking away from the stripped-down lucidity of the material. After Lehning wrote arrangements, he and Combs added contributory woodwinds from Tyler Summers, as well as some lead guitar from Juan Solorzano. It worked, resulting in a record that’s much more subdued and insular-sounding than past Combs albums like Canyons of my Mind or Ideal Man, while still grappling with big ideas. First single “(God)less” is a soulful treatise on humanity and its capacity for good and evil. “We are capable of such a mess / But God still lives on in godlessness,” Combs sings, finding beauty where he’d least expect it. Yes, there are times when he’s close to giving into despair, as on “Mark Of The Man”, where he waxes about human selfishness and labels it “the mark of the man, not the beast.” For the most part, though, Sundays is a record that sees Combs trying to come to terms with better ways to view himself and the world, realistic about ills but not letting them weigh him down. “It’s the most ‘me’ record I’ve ever done,” he told me over the phone a couple months ago.

As Combs gets ready to release Sundays and embark on a tour of the UK and Europe with Billett and multi-instrumentalist Jerry Bernhardt, he’s not quite ready to get back into the same grueling US touring lifestyle pre-COVID. “The COVID experience was a nice time to take a step back,” he said. His U.S. booking agent decided to leave the music industry, and he parted ways with his managers while nothing was happening. Even though he can now play venues throughout the US, while he’s in his home country, Combs prefers to spend time with his kids, paint, play music at home, and work part time. “Honestly, I’m happier than I’ve ever been because I can be home and don’t have to stress about being on the road and being away,” he said. Really, the experience of Sundays shows that the aforementioned homeostasis is not some sort of scheduling normalcy, but a state of mind conducive to observation and creativity.

Read my conversation with Combs below, edited for length and clarity.

Since I Left You: You said this record is “the most ‘me’ record I’ve ever done.” Why do you say that?

Andrew Combs: I think when I first got into music, I was emulating other folks, which is natural and common. I was sort of projecting myself the way I thought other people--the audience, I guess--would appreciate. Not to say there weren’t parts of me [there]. There were. But this record came about so organically and naturally that I couldn’t help but feel it was the most personal and most connected to a piece of music that I’ve ever been a part of.

SILY: It was written during what was a very vulnerable time for all of us--the pandemic lockdowns--but especially for you, as you had a nervous breakdown. I know you were practicing meditation as a result of your struggles. Why did you decide to write songs as a means of working through things? Has that always been what songwriting has done for you?

AC: I don’t know if that has been what songwriting has been to me. Maybe more so recently. I don’t really know why it came about that way other than it was right in front of me and kind of all I knew, trying to navigating through a weird time. When I was younger, I really thought I had to put in the hours every day. [Songwriting’]s become more of a “take it where it’s available” [thing]. Rely on the muse, but also, “There’s a 20-minute period here where my kid is watching TV, just sit down and try to be present and not overthink anything. Try to have fun and write something that feels good.” At our old house, we had a little shed out back, and I was spending a lot of time there painting and being anxious and trying to get through this weird mental breakdown that I had for a few weeks. Those songs came sort of on the heels of the breakdown. I was getting better. I don’t thing I could have written anything while I was having a hard time, but luckily, Jordan Lehning, who I work on the record with, had an idea for me to get into the studio and try something in mono with no reverb or delay on anything, put my voice really high up front and see what happens. I had a couple songs from the year before. We did those right on the heels of that breakdown. I said, “I’m kind of working through this whole situation right now, so if you’ll bear with me, I’ll try to write every week as I come out of this space.” It ended up working. Some didn’t work, but we would go in every Sunday and record what I had worked on during the week. The whole mono recording situation really complemented these songs, because they’re sparse and subtle.

SILY: Over how many Sundays did this recording take place?

AC: I think there were maybe 7 or 8 Sundays. We tried to do every Sunday, but I know a couple weekends we couldn’t meet up. We’d do the basics. Just three people for the most part, myself, Jordan, and Dom Billet who plays drums. We’d play everything, and later on we added woodwinds. [On] a few songs there’s a lead guitar player, Juan Solorzano. He played steel on one song, too.

SILY: You had worked with Jordan and Dom a lot before. How important was it coming out of this mental state and reflecting on it to work with people you had a trusting working relationship with beforehand?

AC: There’s no way I could have done it without [them]. They’re two of my best buddies. I haven’t even thought about that, but you posing that question, A, it wouldn’t have been fun, but B, we wouldn’t have gotten much good out of it.

SILY: Sonically, what stands out to me in comparison to your past material is the woodwinds. Was there a moment you or somebody decided that would fit on a lot of these songs?

AC: In 2020, when the pandemic started, I was really jazzed about making stuff. I wrote a bunch of songs and put out this EP I recorded in my shed. For the rest of the year, I basically didn’t write anything. I wrote two songs. So when 2021 came around, I had those two songs I was comfortable with. When we did the two songs, it felt really good, and Jordan had this other session with Katie Pruitt where they were putting woodwinds on the song. He said, “I could just piggyback with this guy and have him put woodwinds on yours.” At this point, we’re just having fun, drinking coffee and recording. He sent the tracks back with the woodwinds, and that’s when it really clicked. I was going on a walk--I would go on three-hour-long walks every day--and I just kept listening to them over and over again. I called him and Dom and said it was something I wanted to pursue. I didn’t have any money, but we weren’t really doing anything. Jordan is a great writer, producer, and engineer, but where he really shines is in string, horn, and woodwind arrangements. There were times I would hum something I felt like would be a good piece of music for the woodwinds to do, but he wrote all of those parts. 

SILY: Which song or songs were the first two you finished?

AC: “Anna Please” and “The Ship”. It kind of makes sense. [With] “Adeline”, those three songs are really about trying to center yourself.

SILY: I wouldn’t really peg “Anna Please” and “The Ship” as tracks where the woodwinds stood out.

AC: On “Anna Please”, they stand out to me just because they’re complementary and let the chorus do its part. There’s this pad of woodwinds under it. I’m super thrilled about it. It works with the whole dry/mono thing. We thought about strings, but it felt too lush.

SILY: Why did you choose to release “(God)less” as the first single?

AC: It sort of felt like a good introduction to the record and to where my brain was at and where I felt the world was at. I’m constantly amazed by our divisiveness and lack of empathy for other people. I feel like I’m still holding out with hope and love for the world, and I feel like it’s still there, but I just wanted to talk about [it].

SILY: When you sing, “Red is the color of blood and love,” on “Anna Please”, I feel like it gets at the same idea.

AC: That’s interesting. I feel like that song is solely about a character in a movie, but that’s cool it also applies to the rest of the record.

SILY: What character is that song about?

AC: The caretaker Anna in Ingmar Bergman’s Cries and Whispers.

SILY: Are you a Bergman fan?

AC: Bigtime, yeah. Jordan got me into Bergman. Over the pandemic, I watched a lot of his films. 

SILY: How did the video for “(God)less” come about?

AC: I’m working with this guy Austin Leih. He’s a young guy from Dallas, but I met him when he was at film school in Austin at UT. He’s 24 and is just so intelligent and charismatic. We got along really well. He did a last-minute video for me for “Dry Eyes” from my last record. We hit it off, and I decided I wanted him to do all the videos for this record, and I wanted them all to be in black and white. He had just moved from L.A. to Asheville under unfortunate circumstances, and he couldn’t really get to Nashville. He had this idea about diving under the earth. I said, “Okay, we’re running out of time, but I love it.” [laughs] He built that whole set and filmed everything at his parents’ house in Asheville. He’s a phenomenal dude. Loves Bergman. Cool to talk about stuff with. But the “(God)less” idea is diving into the fertile earth. It’s all good down there.

SILY: A lot of this record is centered around where to find goodness, but also the good and bad things people are capable of. I was struck by the line on “I See Me”, when you sing, “The older and wiser build their castles / Big and strong and tall / But the children, they all laugh with joy / When their castles fall.” I don’t know if you’re talking about two distinct sides here, but I wanted to ask you where you thought you stand.

AC: I’m around my kids all the time, and I’d like to be like them. I’m constantly in awe of their ability to navigate through anything awkward, strange, or sad, and how they can bounce back, how their imagination is limitless. I’d like to think I subscribe to that side of the coin. I also think as I get older I find myself being more conservative in certain ways. Not politically, but, when I sing, “Build your castle strong and tall,” the need for structure and form. But I think the best art and creativity comes from childlike senses where you just let it go.

SILY: What’s the inspiration behind the track “Drivel to a Dream”, and the idea behind the line, “Find a way to rid of everything / Then shapes will fade from drivel to a dream”? What is that song referring to?

AC: Meditation. Letting things go.

SILY: Like getting rid of dead weight?

AC: Yes. “Drivel to a Dream” and “I See Me” are companion pieces, not only melodically. [The former] feels like more of the experience of trying and figuring out how to meditate, and “I See Me” is the end result of figuring out what good can come from [meditation.]

SILY: Was the instrumentation on “Shall We Go” meant to sound old timey, or even like Scottish folk?

AC: [laughs] I wanted to write a song that was one note. Maybe it’s hard just for me, maybe it’s hard for everyone, but it ended up sounding like a sea shanty. Jordan really wanted to do the reed organ. We originally had just a piano. It just worked out that way. I feel like it’s a nice palate cleanser on the end. Like the ending of a movie.

SILY: Overall, what’s the inspiration behind the sequencing of the record?

AC: I wanted “(God)less” first because I felt like it was a good introduction. I don’t really practice getting too philosophical about track listing. I basically want [it to] flow correctly, and I want to decide the first side on the side B if it’s going to be vinyl. I have a tendency to not want a slow song there. “Anna Please” felt like it chugged and moved after “(God)less”. I wanted “I See Me” and “Drivel to a Dream” to be next to each other because they’re companion pieces. But on the whole, there wasn’t a storyline. I wanted it to feel right for me.

SILY: What’s the story behind the cover art?

AC: It’s just an idea I had of a reflection in the mirror. Sort of cliché, I guess. But it felt right with this whole record being a journal entry or observation on transformation and coming out of a strange place. I just wanted everything to be super simple: album layout, front cover, videos. The whole record felt like a black and white short film. I wanted everything to correspond to that.

SILY: You covered “High and Dry” for a compilation by 3Sirens Music Group. Are you a big Radiohead fan?

AC: Yeah. When I first got into recording music in high school, Radiohead was pretty much all I listened to and wanted to be like. I’ve gone through phases here and there. I’ve really been digging The Smile’s record. They’re coming to the Ryman, but tickets went really fast, and now they’re really expensive. I’ve never seen Radiohead live. I’ve seen every YouTube video. My wife has [seen Radiohead live]; she says it’s a religious experience.

SILY: I don’t know if I would have thought this if I hadn’t heard your cover, but on the song “Truth and Love” from Sundays, the keyboard hue almost sounds like something from Amnesiac.

AC: Totally. That song gave us the hardest time. I wrote a bass [line]. We couldn’t figure out what to play. But that was the direction we went in the end. It felt like it could be a Radiohead kind of song.

SILY: Are you finding it a creatively rewarding experience adapting these songs to a live setting?

AC: I’m excited. Initially, I was like, “How am I gonna do all these woodwinds?” But at the end of the day, I’m a firm believer in all the arrangements, lyrics, and structures. I’m not worried about them translating if slightly or even vastly different. I think it will be a fun way to keep things fresh.

SILY: Are you always working on new songs? Anything else next for you in the short or long term?

AC: I’m recording with Dom. We’ve been fiddling around. I’d like to make an EP with him. I have little sprinkles of seeds for the next full-length in my brain, but I don’t even know how to articulate it yet. I’d like to explore doing some more stuff with film and music. I don’t know if it would be a short film or an art installation that incorporated video and music, but I’ve been thinking about that a little bit, too.

SILY: Anything you’ve been listening to, watching, or reading that’s caught your attention?

AC: The Smile record. It’s always hard for me to think of it on the top of my head. Lots of Raffi. [laughs] Francis Bebey’s Mwana O. A lot of his songs are singalong-able. My kids can listen to it. I work three days a week at a warehouse job, so I’m always listening to books. I was really blown away by the Richard Powers book Bewilderment. It left me weeping at work. I’ve been getting into George Saunders. I just read Tenth of December. I still haven’t read Lincoln in the Bardo. I’ve been meaning to do that. My Year of Meats by Ruth Ozeki. I went to a Jesuit high school, and we were required to read these sci fi books by Mary Doria Russell about a Jesuit mission to another planet, The Sparrow and Children of God. I’ve been rereading those.

Tour dates:

8/25: Railway Inn, Winchester, UK 8/26: Mid Sussex Americana Festival 2022, Hassocks, UK 8/27: The Long Road Festival 2022, Bottesford, UK 8/28: Cluny 2, Newcastle Upon Tyne, UK 8/30: St Lawrence's Church Biddulph, Stoke-on-trent, UK 8/31: The Grace, London, UK 9/1: The Angel Microbrewery, Nottingham, UK 9/3: Café "De Amer", Amen, Netherlands  9/4: Zentrum Altenberg, Oberhausen, Germany 9/6: Qbus Club, Leiden, Netherlands 9/7: Valve Records Studio, Solingen, Germany 9/8: Poppodium Metropool, Hengelo, Netherlands 9/10: NOCHTWACHE, Hamburg, Germany 9/12: El Lokal, Zurich, Switzerland 9/13: Café V lese, Praha, Czech Republic 9/14: TheaterBar Heppel & Ettlich, Munich, Germany 9/16: Privatclub, Berlin, Germany 9/17: Nashville Nights International Songwriters Festival 2022, Odense, Denmark

#interviews #andrew combs #alysse gafkjen #tone tree #railway inn #the long road festival #cluny 2 #St Lawrence's Church Biddulph #the grace #the angel microbrewery #Café De Amer #zentrum altenberg #Qbus Club #Valve Records Studio #poppodium metropool #nochtwache #el lokal #café v lese #TheaterBar Heppel & Ettlich #privatclub #Nashville Nights International Songwriters Festival #sundays #jordan lehning #tone tree music #Dominic Billet #katie pruitt #tyler summers #juan solorzano #canyons of my mind #ideal man

[november-scorpio]

001 - Snapping the Spell

I had been talking to Denise for three weeks before we finally met. We matched on Tinder, but our schedules just couldn’t line up. It worked out though, because we texted each other frequently throughout that time, and developed chemistry in the process. By the time we actually met up, we had already been sexting extensively, and discussed in great detail what we planned to do to each other once we finally met.

That buildup of sexual tension only added to the painful thirst that was already brewing inside of me. I was in the middle of a pretty long dry spell, and I couldn’t wait to be inside pussy again. Nothing is a sure thing though, and I’ve gone on Tinder dates where the chemistry over text clearly didn’t translate to real life, and as such, would end in nothing more than a friendly hug - so I didn’t want to assume anything. I was as nervous as any first date I’d ever been on, and even more so once I actually saw her.

She was around my height and curvy, with piercing green eyes and dark wavy hair. She showed up in a skin-tight little black dress that went down to mid-thigh, and all white low top Converse. She was definitely more attractive in person than in her pictures, which was saying something, because she was fucking gorgeous in her pictures. I won’t lie, I was intimidated by her beauty, and internally, I had lost my cool. I distinctly remember going to the bathroom shortly after we said our hellos, to splash cold water on my face and give myself a pep talk.

She lived in Brooklyn, so we agreed to meet in DUMBO, which was fairly close to her place. The plan was to get pizza at Grimaldi’s, walk around Brooklyn Bridge Park, and if all went well - go back to her place.

Obviously I’m writing this story because it did go well, so I’ll skip the fluff and get right to the reason why we’re here.

We got to her place and didn’t make it to the bedroom. At least not initially. We got as far as the living room couch, which was almost within an arm’s reach of her door, before we started going at it.

I sat on her couch and she straddled my lap as we made out aggressively. I reached around and pulled her dress up over her ass when I discovered - to my pleasant surprise - she wasn’t wearing any panties.

As soon as I reached down and felt her bare, warm, wet pussy, it was like a switch was flipped inside of me, and without a second thought, I lifted her off of me, laid her down, knelt in front of the couch, and got ready for dessert.

I don’t know if it was the fact that I was snapping a long dry spell and thus, had been out of the game for a little while, my horniness level in that moment, or just plain pheromones and natural body chemistry (probably all of the above), but my favorite, most vivid memory of that night, is taking in her smell once I got between her legs.

This was 7 years ago, and I’ve yet to smell another pussy that turned me on as much as hers did. I’ve always had a weakness for a woman’s natural scent, and hers was fucking magical.

It had a musky and sweaty top note to it, which is by far my favorite smell - but it also finished with a soft, subtle, sweet note. Yes I realize I’m describing the smell of her pussy like a perfume. It’s the only way to do it justice.

It was decidedly sexual, and didn’t smell like anything other than what it was - a sweaty, unwashed vagina that was screaming out to be eaten. So that’s what I did. I ate it, and I ate it enthusiastically. Eating pussy has always and will always be my favorite sex act, but I was more motivated than usual that night. Seriously, I’d eat anything you put in front of me if it smelled like that.

At one point during my feast, I involuntarily chuckled, shook my head with a grin, and nuzzled my face into her inner thigh. “Haha, oh my god,” I said in disbelief.

“Heh…what?,” she asked, with a nervous laugh as she tried to stay in the moment.

“You smell and taste so fucking good.”

“Oh okay phew, thank God haha,” she replied, relieved. “I was gonna say!”

“Haha no no I’m sorry, it’s just really fucking good. I didn’t mean to freak you out.”

“Aww I’m glad…keep going!,” she said playfully, bringing my focus back to the task at hand.

I know how easy it is to fuck up a woman’s groove when it comes to reaching orgasm, and I didn’t want to tease her or leave her unsatisfied and annoyed, so I ditched the playfulness and locked in from that point on.

When it comes to sex, I’m hyperaware of my partner’s body, and take note of all the sudden changes and reactions they go through as I do certain things. As I continued licking her, I realized she would shudder anytime I licked her clit left to right using the tip of my tongue, so that became the go-to move.

I put two fingers inside her, and began massaging her upper wall in firm, slow, methodical strokes, as I continued working her clit with my tongue.

“Oh…god…okay,” she muttered, and squeezed my head with her thighs, locking me in place.

“Keep going, keep going, keep going, keep going,” she demanded, her lower back and ass were now raised off the couch and she was balancing herself on her elbows.

I gripped her ass cheeks firmly and brought her closer to me, holding her up while I continued working her clit.

She started bucking her hips and I wrapped my arms around her thighs to hold her in place.

“Okay, suck it now, suck it now, suck it now!,” she barked, and I did as I was told, and started sucking her clit while her hips continued to buck.

“Oh my god…fuck!,” she moaned, her body falling back onto the couch. She grabbed the back of my head forcefully and began grinding vigorously all over my face. Knowing she was in the zone, I let her do her thing and had her use my face to her liking as she furiously rubbed her clit all over my lips and chin.

“Ugh, fuck. Holy shit,” she said, catching her breath. Her neck and chest beet red, her forehead sweaty.

After that orgasm, she repaid the favor and went down on me, after which we finally made it to her bedroom, where we fucked like rabbits and knocked out shortly after that.

The blowjob and the sex were both fantastic, but my favorite part of that night was digging into the most edible pussy I’ve ever had in my life. It only reaffirmed what all of us already know - pussy was made to be eaten.

[heavenlyhischier]

only when you're high - rafe cameron

word count: 4.3k

summary: Rafe only ever talks to you when he's high, and you've eventually had enough.

warnings: angst i guess, language, mentions of drugs and alcohol, lil makeout sesh at the end

note: ik this isn't the request but i've been working on this for a while so here ya go <3 this is def not my best writing so dont judge it too harshly

3:53 a.m.

You had been dreaming about your cat taking over a world full of people with fish heads when the incessant ringing from your phone jolted you awake. You blindly flung your hand onto the nightstand, knocking over a half empty water bottle and a bottle of ibuprofen before your fingers grazed the cool screen. You picked up the device, nearly blinding yourself when you opened your eyes to see who was calling you at such an ungodly hour. Once your eyes adjusted to the screen’s brightness, the name ‘Stupid Kook’ was displayed across the top. You hesitantly swiped to answer.

“What in the flying fuck do you want,” You whisper yelled, propping your half-conscious body up with your elbow.

“Hey, baby,” He greeted, his voice dragging as if he was thinking too hard about his words. “Just wanted to hear your voice.”

You stopped breathing for a moment, not sure what you were supposed to say to his weird revelation. You had been having a weird thing with Rafe for a few months now. After many drinks, you would often finding yourself making out with him in a secluded area. Despite your random make out sessions, he had never once called you to simply hear your voice. In fact, he hadn’t even called you before. It was usually always a quick ‘wyd’ text at midnight and nothing more.

“That’s weird, you’ve never called me before,” You pointed out, “You’ve also never called me baby before, so what’s that about?”

“Mm, I don’t know. Always wanted to call you that before so why not? What are you up to, baby,” He asked, his words slurring together in a way that could only happen while under the influence.

“You’re high aren’t you,” You sighed. Of course, he was high. You should have known that from the get-go. Rafe Cameron wouldn’t have called you sober; he never even looked at you sober.

A brief silence hung over the line, Rafe’s heavy breathing being the only thing coming through the receiver. “Maybe a little. Had a rough day, so I went to see Barry and now I’m at Topper’s. Talking to you.”

You couldn’t help but let a small smile grace your features; a smile that was gone almost as soon as it came. You let your elbow fall from its position, your head falling back onto the pillow that was still warm from when you were asleep. “How sweet of you. What are you doing, anyways? Shouldn’t you be getting shitfaced and taking some innocent girl to bed?”

He let out an airy laugh before speaking. “The only one I’d like to take to bed is you, and we somehow always stop before it gets to that point. Anyways, it’s just me, Topper, and Kelce, and I started thinking about us in the back of my truck when we were outside. Before I knew what I was doing, you answered the phone.”

Your cheeks flared red as images of Rafe’s hands exploring your body flashed through your mind, the feeling of his ring on your skin igniting something inside of you. His mouth latching onto the sensitive spots of your neck as your moans filled his truck. You let your fingers ghost over your lips as if you could still feel his own on yours. More memories of him exploring your body in every way but the way you wanted him most were running through your mind. Every time you wanted to give in to him, give in to your urges, but you couldn’t.

“You know, I’ve never wanted someone as much as I want you and I hate it,” He started, his words still slow, “I hate it because you’ll never let me have you.”

“Rafe,” You groaned, running a hand over your tired face, “I don’t really feel like giving myself to someone who only talks to me when they’re drunk or high. Someone who would rather be caught dead than with a pouge.”

“You know it’s not like that, baby. It’s complicated,” He tried, and you could tell there was a hint of unfamiliar panic in his voice.

“It always is. Guess I’ll see or talk to you next time you get fucked up. Goodnight Rafe,” You whispered before hanging up on the boy, ignoring his desperate protests.

1:38 a.m.

You turned the shower water off before stepping out onto the cool tiled floor, water dripping from every part of your body. You chose to ignore the buzzing coming from your phone, moving to grab the towel hung on the back of your bathroom door. However, the buzzing started again as you were drying off your legs.

“Who the fuck,” You groaned as you wrapped the towel around your still wet body. ‘Stupid Kook’ was making a second appearance, much to your surprise. “Yes, Rafe?”

“What’s up your ass,” He laughed his infectious laugh. You could picture him throwing his head back and his glazed over eyes twinkling with amusement, something you had only seen when you found yourself admiring him from afar.

“Nothings up my ass. Just don’t know what your high ass wants this time.” You gripped your phone in your hand and started to walk back towards your room. Your parents had fallen asleep hours ago, so you had to make sure you were quiet. However, that deemed difficult in the darkest hours of the night in your already poorly lit house. You bumped your hip and stubbed your toe on just about anything that was out in the open. Once you were in your room, you hastily shut the door and flipped the light switch on.

“Hello! Hello! Hello! Where are you,” Rafe yelled, making you wince and pull the phone away from your ear.

“Jesus, dude. Calm down, I was walking back to my room,” You chastised, doing your best to hold your phone in between your ear and shoulder.

“What were you doing? I missed you,” He pouted.

You ignored the swelling you got in your heart and said, “I was leaving the bathroom. I just finished showering. What are you doing?”

You grabbed a clean pair of underwear and a shirt you had taken from JJ after you had thrown up over whatever you were wearing that night. Rafe began telling you what he was doing, which was quite literally nothing. However, he quickly dove into a spout of how you were naked and wet and how badly he wanted to see you without any clothes on. Your cheeks were burning as he went on and on about all of the sinful things he wanted to do to you. You let him ramble on a bit more as you turned the light off once you were clothed and ready for bed.

“Okay, that’s enough, Rafe,” You stopped him, pulling your blanket back so you could crawl in bed. “So, calling me two times within a week? You falling in love with me?”

It was so painfully obvious that it was a joke, but you could practically feel the tension radiating through your phone from Rafe’s end. His abrupt silence concerned you because this boy was far from silent when he was doped out.

“Maybe I am,” He finally got out, and you couldn’t detect any sarcasm in it.

“Sure you are,” You rolled your eyes, blaming exhaustion for briefly clouding your judgment, “If you were in love with me, you’d actually talk to me when you aren’t too fucked to remember your own name.”

You started picking at a loose thread on your blanket as you let your mind wander to what life would be life if you had an actual relationship with Rafe. Going to parties with him. Hanging around the Island Club with him and his friends. Him doing lines off your body before having his way with you.

“I will talk to you when I’m not high,” His voice broke you from your thoughts, “If that’s what you really want.”

“I do,” You said way too quickly, “I mean, yeah sure. That would be nice, I guess.”

“Just text me and I’ll answer.” You couldn’t stifle the yawn that escaped your lips, but you did try and hide it from Rafe. Your attempt was no good, though. “You’re tired, go to bed.”

“No, I’m fi-.”

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Rafe shouted over you, “Talk to you soon, baby.”

Rafe’s name popped up on your phone screen every few days after he had gotten drunk out of his mind or too high to do anything other than find your contact. You didn’t mind it at first, but after you had texted him during the day and those messages went unanswered, you grew hurt and annoyed. You had tried asking him why he wouldn’t respond, but he always found a way to change the subject. You wanted to ask him about it in person, but you hadn’t seen him in almost a month. You wanted to ask him why he couldn’t bother to pick up the phone when he was sober, but wasted no time in calling you as soon as he got his bump in.

One of the nights he called, you offered to have him come over because your parents were gone, but he said no. Made up some excuse about how he was staying with Topper for a while since Sarah cheated on him and he wanted to be there for his friend. You understood that, so you didn’t push him after that. Then, the next time you told him about a party everyone was going to and how you wanted to see him there. You even told him to bring the other two. That time he told you he was staying away from parties for a while, wanting to stay to himself for the most part due to the constant stress from his dad. You knew how Ward could be sometimes, so it wasn’t hard to believe him and move on from there.

You wanted to be mad to him for only acknowledging you when he was high, but you couldn’t be. You’ve always wanted to feel wanted by somebody, and he made you feel like that albeit only when he was far gone from reality. You could deal with it as long as you got to talk to him, no matter how insecure it made you. Well, you thought you could.

2:25

Your parents were gone for the night, so you opted to watch Marvel movies in the living room. You were so invested in watching Iron Man and shoving popcorn in your mouth that you didn’t feel your phone go off the first six times. Or the fifteen times after that. Not that you would have cared either way. You knew the only person it could be was the boy who never wanted you sober. The credits began rolling across the TV, so you finally decided to pick up your discarded phone. You were shocked to see Rafe had called you eight times and texted you thirteen. Overall, his texts said the same thing.

Why aren’t u answering me :(

Call me pls

I wanna talk to you baby

It was if he knew you were finally looking at your phone because his contact popped up not ten seconds later. You rolled your eyes, but reluctantly answered.

“Y/N! Where have you been,” He whined into the receiver, “I’ve been trying to call you for like two hours.”

“Watching movies,” Your words were sharp and short, not particularly wanting to talk to him right now. You’ve nearly reached your breaking point with him.

Rafe could immediately tell something was off with you by the way you sounded. “What’s wrong, baby? Are you okay?”

You took a deep breath in, setting your bowl of popcorn on the coffee table after you paused the end credit scene. You leaned forwards and planted your elbow on your knee as you held your head in annoyance.

“I’m fine, Rafe. I’m just getting fed up with you only wanting to talk to me when you’re high or drunk,” You started, “I used to be fine with it because it once every couple of weeks, but now it’s almost every day and it’s annoying. You told me to text you when you’re sober, and I did, but you never responded. I try and offer to come over to you or have you come to me, but you always have an excuse. I know you want to be there for Topper and you don’t really want to be around anyone right now, but that doesn’t mean I have to put up with it.”

“Y/N, I know, and I’m sorry. It’s just-It’s complicated. Please understand that,” He was practically begging you to listen to him.

“Rafey, are you coming back to play beer pong with us,” A female voice suddenly cut through the sudden sound of music.

Your breathing stopped and your heart felt like it was being squeezed by Rafe’s own hand. A wave of heartbreak crashed over your entire body. “‘I just don’t want to be around anyone’ huh? Thought you were just spending time with Topper for a while? You know, if you didn’t want to see me, all you had to do was say so,” You whimpered, hurt now mixing with your anger and annoyance.

“No, wait,” He tried, yelling at whoever came in the room to get out, “Y/N, please. It isn’t lik-“

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence. It is like that, Rafe. It is exactly like that. You don’t want to see me, and that is fine. I get it. Why would you ever want to be seen with someone from the Cut? It doesn’t matter, though. Don’t call me anymore. You lied to me. That is not something that I can forgive,” Your tears were too strong to hold back now, “I don’t care for liars, Rafe Cameron, and you’re the biggest one of all.”

You quickly hung up and turned off your phone, throwing it towards the end of the couch so you weren’t tempted to grab it. You grabbed the large blanket from the back of the couch, picked another movie, and let your tears fall as it played in front of you.

“Honey,” Your moms gentle voice broke through, “You fell asleep on the couch.”

You slowly opened your eyes, letting them adjust to the bright light shining through the giant window. The headache hit you like a ton of brinks, causing you to squeeze your eyes shut in pain. Your mom was hovering over you, her hand on your shoulder and her soft eyes pretending to not notice how puffy your cheeks and red your eyes are.

“I guess so,” You mumbled, pushing yourself up into a sitting position, “I’ll go lay down in my room. I’m still tired.”

She gave you an understanding nod with a caring smile and helped you off the couch. Her hand lingered on your back as if she wanted to say something to you, but she decided to leave it alone for now. You would talk to her when you were ready, if you ever were. You gave her a thumbs up when she told you her and your father would be out again most of the day.

Your feet dragged as you stumbled back to your room, using the wall to keep you steady. You pushed the door open with your foot and gave your cat, who was laying on your bed as if she owned it, a stupid smile. You fell onto the bed and pulled her onto your chest as you turned your phone back on. You were scared to confront the actions from last night, but knowing Rafe, he probably wouldn’t have bothered to even send you a text about it. You were quickly proven wrong the moment your phone turned back on. The vibration from all of the texts, voicemails, and snapchats felt like it lasted for five straight minutes. Nearly all were from the boy you wanted nothing to do with. Although, you noticed a voicemail from Topper, who you forgot even had your number.

Um, hey its Topper. Look dude, I don’t know what happened, but Rafe is freaking out like a bitch right now. He keeps mumbling shit about how he fucked things up with, which I didn’t even know you two were a thing but whatever I don’t really care. He kicked everyone out of my house and has been calling and texting you for like thirty minutes straight now so please call him back, so he shuts the fuck up. If not for him, do it for my sanity before I kill him. Uh, yeah, thanks, bye.

You sighed deeply after the voicemail cut off, your heart rate increasing at the thought of Rafe being upset. If he was bad enough that Topper of all people called you, you knew it was bad. You wanted to not care because of how he made you feel, but you did. You’ve always cared about the blond boy more than you cared to admit. You finally decided to look at the messages he sent you.

Y/N pls call me back

I’m sorry its not what it looks like and I know that sounds stupid but its true

Pls talk to me. I need u to talk to me

I promise that I never wanted to hurt u ok???

I love you, Y/N. Please call me or I’m coming to your house tomorrow.

The world stopped spinning when you read the last message. You kept reading it over and over again as if you misread it the first time. Rafe had never been any kind of affectionate with you until he called you baby. Rafe Cameron was not someone known to get emotional, so you weren’t sure if you believed his words. He was a liar and would do anything to get what he wanted, so what was different now?

You heard a knock on the door followed by your moms muffled voice, but you were too focused on the situation in front of you to notice who it was. Your eyes were glued to the screen, staring at the three words you never thought anyone other than your family and friends would say to you. The world around you was fading away, your heart feeling as if it was going to beat out of your chest as tears slid down your still puffy cheeks. You weren’t going to let him do this to you. You weren’t going to let him toy with you anymore.

“Y/N,” A deep voice dragged you out of your subconscious.

Your eyes darted over to the door and saw the last person you wanted to see. Rafe was standing there, his eyes wide and blood shot and he looked like total shit. His hair was a wild mess, nothing like its usual tamed state. You met his gaze and you wished you hadn’t. One look from him and you were puddy in his hands. One look and every thought you had about never seeing him again flew out the window.

“Hey, can we talk,” He mumbled, his bright blue eyes looking everywhere but at you. “Please.”

Not trusting your words, you gave him a swift nod and gestured to the spot next to you on your bed. You leaned to the side and placed your cat on the ground, watching as she rubbed herself all over Rafe’s leg before scampering away. His walk to your bed was painfully slow, and you wanted to tell him to hurry up, but you knew that was unreasonable.

“What do you want, Rafe,” Your voice was harsh, trying to ignore the urge to reach out to him. “What do you want to talk about? How you only use me for your own pleasure? How you only ever even look at me when you’re drunk or high? How you lied to me? Wanna talk about that?”

Your anger surprised even yourself. One second you wanted to hold him in your arms and comfort him, but then the memory of how he treated you came back and flipped a switch in your brain. You don’t know how you feel and you hate it.

“I deserve every bit of your anger,” He breathed out, letting his hand fall dangerously close to your own, “But please let me explain everything to you, okay?”

“Fine,” You gave in, “Talk.”

“Yeah, thank you, okay. I really do want to talk to you when I’m not absolutely fucked, I do. I know that it doesn’t seem like that, but its true. I just, I can’t. Every time I look at you, think about you, I hear my dads voice screaming at me that I will never be good enough for anyone. I have this thought drilled into my head every day that no matter what I do, who I am, I am just never enough. To me, you’re no exception to that. In fact, you remind me even more. Wait no.”

Rafe rubbed both of his hands over his face and tugged at his hair, afraid that he’s already fucking this up. “Rafe,” You gently spoke up, turning to grab his hands from his face. “It’s fine. Keep going.”

His eyes met yours and you could see how strained he was. There were too many emotions swirling in his eyes for you to pinpoint exactly what he was feeling. “Okay, um, okay. To me, you are way too good for me, so the only time I feel comfortable talking to you is when I’m high. I’ve never had trouble talking to any girl before, but you’re more than that to me. You’re more than just some girl to me and it scares me, so I feel like I have to be, yanno, not me. When I talk to you. I want to be with you more than I have ever wanted to be with someone in my life”

Your hand was still holding his as you let his words sink in. Him revealing how his dad truly made him feel made your heart ache for him. It made you want to grab him by the face and tell him how he is more than good enough. You wanted to let him in, but you weren’t sure if you were ready for the risk that came along with it. You’re not sure if you want all the things that came with being with Rafe Cameron. He’s followed by hurt and lies, and you do feel guilty thinking that, but it’s been proven true countless times.

“Rafe, listen to me,” You began, moving so you were straddling him and holding his face in your hands. His hands immediately came to grip your hips, and you are well aware that this was a more than compromising situation. “I understand that your father is probably the worst person we both know, but that doesn’t excuse you lying to me. I don’t know if I can trust you, no matter how much I may want to.”

You watched as tears gather in his eyes, and he was doing his best to keep them at bay. He had never felt the way he feels about you before, and he’s more than aware that his reputation precedes him. He knows that he’s done nothing more than prove how untrusting he is to you, but he wouldn’t let that stop him from trying to prove to you that he means what he’s saying.

“I know that nothing I say will fix what I’ve already done. I know that, but I can show you just how much you mean to me, if you’ll let me. We can go at your pace. Do things your way. Just, please, give me another chance to prove myself to you.”

You’re searching for any detection of a lie in his eyes, in his voice, but you come up empty. You wipe away the stray tears that broke through his wall of protection. You hesitantly placed your forehead on his, and you could hear him take in a sharp breath at the connection. Your eyes fluttered closed, your nose brushing against his as you weighed all of your options.

“Did you mean what you to me? In your last text,” You whispered, too scared to open your eyes and look at him. “Do you actually love me?”

“More than you know,” His breath was hot against your chin, and he pulled you closer into him.

You decided to take a leap, dive into something that scared you more than anything. Your lips finally met his, and Rafe wasted no time in returning the feeling. Your hands fell from his cheeks and clasped each other behind his neck, while his hands stayed placed on your hips, too scared to push you too far. You deepened the passion filled kiss by pulling him closer to you and running your tongue across his bottom lip. Rafe’s lips moved in such a sensual way that you almost didn’t know how to react. It was much different from the lust filled kisses you’ve shared in the past. You started moving your hips on top of him, an action that had him gripping your hips tighter than before.

Y/N,” Rafe breathed out after he broke away from you, “If you don’t stop, I don’t know if I can control myself.”

“Then don’t.”

i have not edited this so if you see a mistake lmk. love u

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #drew starkey #drew starkey imagine #obx #obx imagine #outer banks #outer banks imagine