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doobean · 7 months

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HIM & HIM - SAE ITOSHI + OLIVER AIKU

synopsis: You're a tired-out office worker who often relieves yourself from the mundanes in life through clubbing and going to local bars. Little did you know that one night you would be approached by two men and an offer that you can't deny.

contents: explicit content, afab!fem!reader, sex worker!oliver, sex worker!sae, semi-public sex (nightclub bathroom), double penetration, anal sex, vaginal sex, face grabbing, slight hair pulling, nipple play, ass slapping, usage of aphrodisiacs, unprotected, overstimulation, degradation, name calling (slut), rimming/anal fingering, blowjobs, hand jobs, cumming in ass, facials, kinda proofed mdni word count: 3.5K a/n: part 2 of my kinktober event! nevermind maybe this is the nastiest thing I've ever written?? i gave up and am now using words cock and pussy because who can stop me?? no one gets emotionally hurt in this one - sorry to everyone who got sad over my first kinktober fic :(

It shouldn’t be a crime with how often you find yourself going to nightclubs every weekend. You’re simply letting yourself loose — from all of life’s hardships and the insane amount of unpaid overtime that you’re expected to work at your corporate company.

You should’ve known it was too good to be true when they misspelled your name in their welcome letter.

And now, with two years down the drain, you feel like the only way you can properly destress is by spending two hours at a random bar and then on their dance floor every week. Some of your friends might suggest going to therapy but who would want to get a therapist specifically for work? That sounds like too much to juggle around. You could also quit, but the job market is absolutely ass right now so why would anyone want to do that?

Searching for your new weekly playground also doesn’t take too much effort versus sifting through various shitty therapists either. You always do a bit of background research before settling on one; it has to offer good drinks at a reasonable price point, the DJs and performers have to be people that you’re familiar with, a dress code would be nice to get rid of some weird guys, and has to have hot guys there. After all, that’s one of the hidden reasons why you love going out solo to these clubs.

And your mission for tonight? Flirt with some guys, get free drinks, and get shitfaced.

Seventh Heaven is currently the talk of the town. Having it finished its grand opening almost a month ago, you’ve been seeing it all over your social media pages non-stop. Not only did it fit your criteria, but everyone kept raving about their escorts — male and female alike. You never thought about paying for entertainment, so it wasn't necessarily high on your priority list, but you'd be dishonest to yourself if it didn't pique your interest.

As the night finally arrives, and as you step into the venue, immediately captivated by the grandeur of the place. The elegant decor, the subdued lighting, and the hum of conversations create an atmosphere that feels both exclusive and inviting. Your legs take you straight over to the bar, where you start your friendly banter with the bartender.

Luckily, the dress you’re wearing has never failed you in getting free drinks. “What should I do to get a margarita around here?” You bat your lashes.

The bartender doesn’t say anything and hands you a sweating glass. You take a sip of it from where you stand, eyes wandering the room and scanning for easy men to prey on. Your eyes dart from table to table, most of the men were already preoccupied by other women. It seems like you aren’t the only one with this idea for tonight. You sigh, shoulders slumping, as you realize that it might take a while for your next free drink. You’re about to pull out your phone to keep your attention preoccupied until—

“Would you be interested in having sex with us?”

You nearly choke on your drink, the tequila burning your nose and throat as you cough down the remaining liquid. You feel a pat on your back and look up. The large hand belongs to a tall, heterochromatic man with wispy hair, he’s smiling ear to ear. Behind him stood a smaller, slender man with sharp features and strikingly teal eyes. Surely, these men weren’t talking to you?

“I-I’m sorry?” You have to do a double-take because wow do they make guys this attractive anymore?

The other man sighs and steps over to remove his hand from your back. “You’re too impatient, Oliver.”

The man named Oliver pouts. “I only said one sentence, Sae.”

“You were being rude.”

“That’s rich coming from you—”

You clear your throat, now seemingly confused about the situation unraveling in front of you. “What’s happening exactly?”

They both pause and exchange knowing looks.

You clutch your drink close, eyeing the two men and ignoring the rising heat from your legs. “And why me?”

“You’ve only been glancing at tables with women surrounded by men.” Oliver leans forward and winks. “We might have the same idea for tonight, yeah?” His charm is oozing, it’s contagious. You can feel your knees buckling underneath from his smile.

You can’t remember when’s the last time you’ve had sex. Dating is out of the question due to being overworked and hookups are always a hit-or-miss. Though seeing that these men are staff members from their shared uniform, you would be stupid enough to turn down such an offer. These must be the men that people were talking about.

This week has been overwhelming and taxing on your mental health and you could use a nice break right now. The drink isn’t helping you forget about life that much.

“I’m not a fan of threesomes, so you guys better change my mind by the end of tonight.”

You didn’t question much as they directed you into a bathroom by the far end of the nightclub. It’s spacious, the floor is layered in black tiles, and definitely isn’t just meant for doing your business. The walls are covered in noise-cancellation plush foam, paintings of nude men and women scattered across the place, and there is a small fridge filled to the brim with rolled-up towels by the corner.

“Well, don’t just stand there—” Your back presses against the sink’s counter, spreading your legs slowly for the two men in front of you with a tease of a smile on your plush lips. “—fuck me already.”

Sae reacts first, rolling his eyes at your words before leaning forward and capturing your lips with his. Your arms and hands work fast and, in an instant, you’re tugging at his shirt and belt buckle while crashing your body into his. His calloused hands mimic your frantic motions, grazing and eagerly grabbing the flesh of your waist, thighs, and eventually settling and kneading your ass. You originally thought he would come off as the shy, vanilla type compared to his friend but you’re gladly taken aback.

You groan against his mouth as he nibbled lightly against your lips, tongue immediately invading the open space given to him. You’ve hardly touched him but you can already feel his painfully hard length pressing against your legs. Instinctively, you spread your legs wider for him to grind on your clothed folds, moaning at the familiar built-up sensation.

“Can’t believe you’re hard for me already.” You coo against his lips, chuckling when he pulls back with the slightest frown etched on his face.

The playfulness in your tone is immediately replaced by a breathy moan when his fingers plunge against your sloppy folds, pressing tightly. Sae leans in and starts leaving small bites along the sensitive skin of your neck.

“Says the slut who wants us inside of her right now,” Sae mumbles against your warm skin.

You poise your tongue, ready for a comeback, before letting out another groan when Oliver appears beside you, forcing your hand away from Sae’s neck and placing it on his leaking cock. The taller male hisses in pleasure at the feeling and bends down to meet your glossy gaze.

“Gotta take care of me too, sweetheart.” Oliver breathes into your ear, the scent of his cologne makes your head fuzzy, and he buckles his cock further into your palm. “We’ll fill you up but it’s me that’s gonna make you cum.”

Sae’s grip on your ass tightens up at the declaration, he snaps his head up and throws Oliver a furrowed brow. Your moans come out in a series of shudders as Sae’s fingers easily pull your panties down your thighs, leaving behind trails of slick from your dripping heat. You bite back your volume and jolt in pleasure when his fingers start ghosting over your entrance but his sight never leaves Oliver’s face.

“Keep count, will you? I’ll be the first one do to so.” His voice stays leveled despite the apparent dark glint over his teal eyes, almost as if he was going to devour you in and out throughout the coming night.

“Yeah?” Oliver purr against your ear, his large hand finding home at the small of your back and his other assisting your occupied hand on his cock, pumping it slow and steady. Pleasure shoots down your stomach at the sight of his leaking tip and the way it throbs in your hand. Oliver laughs when he notices you shuffling between the two of them, the sweet scent from your folds drawing both of them in. “You want me first, baby?”

Sae’s hand forces your face up, directly in line with his. His expression stays deadpanned as he taps your cheek with his thumb. “Answer carefully.”

You lick your lips, eyelashes fluttering. “Both.”

Oliver laughs and Sae merely hums in satisfaction. Your grip and pace on Oliver’s length fasten as Sae leans in, continuing to ravage the space between your shoulders and neck all while his digits begin sliding into your cunt. You twitch as Sae’s breath stops momentarily at the feeling of the velvety walls inside, taking in every single detail as your legs start to give out from underneath.

“So fucking filthy,” Sae groans at the wet sounds below and starts scissoring his fingers inside.

The combination of his thick fingers and the feeling makes your eyes blow wide, unable to formulate sentences, and you find yourself grasping at Sae’s shirt in order to ground yourself. He’s teasing, it’s tanalizing with the slow pace he’s set for you. There’s something mysterious and addicting about Sae’s aura that makes you want to please him so that he spares you his time.

Right now, from what you can tell, he wants you to say what you want otherwise he’ll continue to stay slow.

His teal eyes bore into yours as you grind yourself shamelessly down his fingers with a loud whine. “Make me cum—I wanna cum…”

Oliver moves closer, his stubble grazing above, and places a chaste kiss on top of your head. “Guess you’re taking the first point for tonight.”

Sae ignores his friend’s commentary and silently nods at your request. As you hump against his fingers desperately, Sae goes in and captures your lips before picking up his pace inside of you. Your other hand is currently lathered up in Oliver’s pre, who’s seemingly also enjoying the sight of you taking everything in. His hand on your back roams and stops at your clothed breasts, massaging the soft mounds, and exhales by your ear.

“You’re doing so good. Do you know how wet you sound right now?” He coos.

You couldn’t say anything back, gasping for air as Sae’s tongue occupied your mouth, and merely tugged at Oliver’s length faster. When his fingers dig and curl at a familiar spongy part of your walls, you roll your head back and let the warm coiled feeling take over. Your head starts to feel hazy, and your body thumps as Sae continues to work you toward your orgasm. It’s not until Oliver starts toying with your hardened buds that you come undone all over the other male’s digits, the sounds from your mouth are full of cursed obscenities and saccharine moans.

“Look at the mess you made,” Sae pulls his fingers out and glances down at his lap. Your slick is sticking all over his forearm and upper thighs, it’s absolutely drenched and you didn’t think you were able to reach that level of pleasure before.

Sae watches you carefully as your chest rises heavily, your face flushed and tears smearing the makeup you had carefully put on earlier in the night.

Oliver takes a seat on top of the toilet lid, a hand patting his lap and the other stroking his cock. “Just for you, princess.”

You’re still high off of your orgasm but you feel yourself nodding, babbling nonsense from your mouth as you position yourself facing away from him, angling the tip of his length from behind. Your vision goes teary again. It’s barely even all the way in and yet—

“Shit, did you just cum again?” The tight feeling of your walls fluttering around Oliver makes him moan. He places both of his hands around your waist and guides you further down his length, hissing through his teeth when you finally bottom him out. “So warm, so fucking tight, sweetheart.”

With the angling done right, he’s slamming deep into you over and over again, each stroke eliciting little whimpers from your mouth. Slick is dripping down your thighs and onto his lap, but he doesn't seem to notice, and you couldn't care less since you're fascinated with the thickness of his cock and how beautifully he fits inside of you. You absolutely love the sensation of him sliding in and out of you, nearly fucking you like a toy, and having total and complete power over you while mumbling praise into your ear.

Sae stands in front and there’s a slight annoyance that’s written across his face as he stares down at you. He clicks his tongue in disapproval. “That easy to please?”

His cock springs free from his pants, his head red and covered in pre. While he isn’t as large as Oliver’s, it is certainly pretty, nicely trimmed, and has a thick vein running along its side. Sae tries to control his breathing as your hands suddenly wrap around his aching cock. As you swallow him whole into your warm, wet lips, Sae groans while looking into your half-lidded eyes. His hands instantly fly to your head, grabbing a fistful of your hair and pushing his hips further into your mouth, not paying much attention to the way drool is now seeping out of the corners of your lips.

Sae cursed under his breath when you reach down to fondle with his balls gently, massaging the flesh into your palms. You continue to hollow out your cheeks, bobbing your head down his length while Oliver slams against your cervix again. Your constant moans send vibrations down his length and it’s so intense that he has to pull away, his stomach flexes in the process.

“Switch with me,” Sae barks at the other male but is only met with a chuckle.

“Fuck no, she’s too good for you,” A hard slap on your ass sends a shockwave through your body. “You can keep fucking her sloppy mouth.”

But that didn’t stop Sae from getting what he wanted. He grabs your wrist and pulls you out of Oliver’s grasp before sharply turning you around. Sae’s hands rest on your shoulders, the applied pressure from him indicates that he wants you to sit back down on Oliver’s length. You silently follow along, feeling his intense gaze from behind, and wrap your arms around Oliver’s neck for support as you edge yourself down. You’re whining again, still not used to having something so thick and filling inside, and Oliver leans in, kissing you on the cheek in an attempt to comfort you.

“Told you he’s the rude one,” He murmurs teasingly.

“Be quiet,” You can imagine Sae rolling his eyes.

You whine louder when you feel a sudden wet muscle brush over your ass. It’s Sae’s tongue. He’s making lazy circles around your other hole, before slipping a finger easily in. You clench yourself tightly around Oliver at the new feeling. You haven’t realized that your asshole is much more sensitive and you can’t help but move your hips, wanting more.

One finger. Then two. And three.

Sae moves them slowly from inside, curling them and stretching out your hole for a few seconds before retracting. Within moments, you feel his cock probing at your entrance, causing you to moan and wither against the larger male.

“You can take it, don’t act like you don’t want to get filled up by two guys.” Sae pushes the first inch forward, inhaling a deep breath when it goes in with minimal resistance.

You feel his cock twitch inside of you with every forward movement. Your legs begin to shake from the build-up pressure from both holes. You’re gasping loudly, struggling to breathe as your eyes shut tight, and your mouth goes slack from the intensity that it almost hurts.

Your loud wails are quickly silenced by Oliver’s hand, his thick digits shove their way into your mouth as he continues to bounce your shaky figure down his hardened shaft.

Tears begin to blur your vision at the intensity of it all, the aching feeling from your hips, ass, and cunt from the constant stimulation is getting to you. Just when you thought this was the height of it, Oliver pulls out a small glass vial from the pocket of his shirt. It’s a clear substance, unlabeled, and you’re sure it’s not regulated by any means with the look he’s giving you right now. Sae slows down his pace from behind and you feel his chest rumble lowly against your back, seemingly knowing what might happen next.

“Sweetheart,” Oliver’s free palm caresses your flushed cheek, a more careful and delicate touch compared to earlier. His hand stops at your mouth, thumbs rubbing softly over your lips in his way of coaxing you to open up and chuckling when you easily obey. “Gonna make you feel good, I promise.”

Luckily, the substance didn’t have a taste to it. The texture is almost like water and it flows down your throat with ease. What you didn’t expect is the drug taking effect on you almost immediately. As if your body has risen in temperature, you start to heavily pant, hands gripping Oliver’s sleeves while you lean further back against Sae’s firm chest. The two men both let out groans of their own when you start spasming from the inside, their cocks fighting with your hot walls.

Slowly, they begin to pick up their initial pace. Oliver watches as your mouth goes slack, pools of drool spilling out, and eyes roll back. And, while he knows he should let your body adjust to the change, the sight of you all fucked out is enough to drive him crazy and he quickly finds himself slamming into you, a force so strong that it makes Sae break his focus.

“Stop hogging her all to yourself,” Sae snaps.

“Maybe you should try harder, no?” Oliver’s free hand settles on your breast, toying the nipple between his thick digits, earning a squeal from you. “Or else we’re gonna be here all night.”

His comment spurs Sae and he finds himself speeding up, fucking your ass deeper and messier than before. All signs of his previous stoic emotions melt away as his hand reaches to grab a fistful of your locks, tugging it harshly followed by a sharp slap on the flesh of your ass.

You can’t contain your cries, sobbing loudly in pleasure as both of your entrances elevate to another level of sensitive heights.

“Oh—! Yesyesyes give it to me…!”

“I knew you could take it,” Oliver latches his mouth onto your breast, dual-colored eyes looking up as he twirls his tongue around your pebbled nipple. “Such a good fucking girl, taking two cocks at once.”

Your walls are spasming uncontrollably around them. “I-I’m gonna—” Your nails dig deep into Oliver’s forearms, leaving behind half-crescent marks as you moan louder, wordlessly begging both males not to stop.

Your toes start to curl, and your mouth drops as your third orgasm strikes you after one final, expertly aimed stroke against a particular area inside of you. It’s loud, messy, and incomprehensible, and Oliver groans when you press closer to him. You release yourself all over his cock, the pool of liquid drenching his lap. You find yourself reaching another orgasm as Sae reaches over, hand gripping tightly around your throat, forcing you to look into his eyes.

“Your ass is mine, you understand?”

Your eyes roll back, nodding numbly. “Yes—oh my god—it’s yours!” And another wave comes, the coil in your abdomen snaps and you clamp down around the two men again.

Oliver continues snapping his hips into your cunt, a few seconds after, you notice his pace is a bit more feverish and out of focus. Sweat is dripping profusely down his face and he smirks. “Sorry, sweetheart, but I have to tap out soon.”

Sae’s palms rest on either side of your ass, kneading the flesh deeply. “Fuck—”

Oliver quickly pulls out and streams of white warm spurts hit across your face as Sae fills you up from behind. You can feel him twitch inside you and tighten his hold on your body as he spills out his last drops inside. For a while, the three of you stayed stationary, labored breathing, and mirror foggy from the long session. It’s not until when Sae pulls out that Oliver decides to also get up.

Sae grabs a warm towel from a small fridge in the corner of the room and begins cleaning up your face while Oliver adjusts your dress straps back on. You couldn’t ignore how soft and tender both men are acting despite what just happened. You sigh in relief, your heart and senses calming down from the drug and your last orgasm, as you struggle to stand.

“Next week,” You murmur, looking at them with doe eyes, between heavy breathing. “Will you guys be here again next week?”

Maybe you can endure your shitty office job if they’re around.

KINKTOBER TAGLIST (PART II)

@milkistoshi @mareonyan @saenora @blissblossom @wowonamo

#doobean:kinktober23 #bllk #blue lock #bllk smut #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #oliver aiku #oliver aiku smut #sae itoshi smut #sae itoshi x reader #itoshi sae x reader #sae itoshi #itoshi sae #itoshi sae smut #blue lock smut #cw: drugs #oliver aiku x reader #doobean writes

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manicpixiefelix · 3 months

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baby, put your back into it {Farleigh Start/Reader/Oliver Quick}

1/2: i'm gonna talk you through it [SMUT]

Summary: You're the daughter of one of Henrys, and known to be a snobby, entitled Princess of a woman; neither Venetia nor Felix seems to like you. Farleigh, however, claims that you and he have an ongoing arrangement. Felix says that arrangement is that you and Farleigh bitch together, then fuck like wild animals every time you hang out. Turns out you're even bitchier in person, and after a cruel joke played on Oliver by you and Farleigh at the Henrys dinner, he decides to take a bit of power back. Not that it goes as intended... nor that it goes completely wrong.

Need to Know: She/Her. AFAB!Reader. Established FWB Brat!Reader/Brat Tamer!Farleigh

Warnings: PWP!! smut; fingering, oral (F receiving), dirty talk, lots of arguing, reader is very very bratty, demeaning talk, bondage & restraints, explicit discussions around safewords (it does happen a little bit into the action but before anything major), pet name used for the reader "princess"

A/N: 4730 words. okay turns out i can write pwp. i cut out like 1.5k of background and you get the gist of it in the summary. there will be a part 2 thats heavy on the smut, but this trio takes a while to set anything up because they can't stop arguing. hints of farleigh/oliver. this was a lot of fun but again i can't stress how long its been since ive written full, proper smut, so id really appreciate feedback. <3 unedited, i love you.

{ masterpost : 1/2 }

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

----

Fucking Farleigh Start. Oliver feels the fury as it burns and bubbles inside of him, stalking quietly through the halls of Saltburn. There, at the end of the hall, Farleigh's bedroom door, quiet and unassuming, and right next to it, Oliver's target; your door. Farleigh isn't the only one in the house who can wrap people around his little finger; he isn't the only one in the house who can get the Princess to kneel.

Trying the handle, he finds it unlocked, and eases the old, wooden door open.

"Farleigh was right," upon hearing your voice, bright, amused, and very much awake in the dark, Oliver jumps, "you're an A-plus lurker, I didn't even hear you come in."

"Was a nasty thing you did to me tonight," Oliver tries to regain some of his composure, some of the ire he'd built up on the way here.

"So you've snuck into my room, I assume you assumed I was asleep, to- what, wake me up and berate me?" There's something smug and biting in your voice, something that fuels the fury coiling deep in his gut, "that doesn't sound like enough for someone like you, tricksie, little, pauper boy." When you start to move from where you've been sitting up in bed, crawling to the end to sit on your knees as the moonlight streaks through your window and finally paints you in sharp relief, he sees you're already nude.

But even your stunning body in the moonlight cannot compare to the look on your face, the sharp, hungry, mean amusement he's never seen a person wear so well.

"Go on then, shout," your eyes shine dangerously in the moonlight; "don't you want Farleigh to hear?" They might have been right. You might be the devil. Your smile gets wider, and Oliver can only watch, rather transfixed, as you start rolling your hips with purpose, "or do you want him to hear something else?" He hears, quietly at first, a soft tap, getting louder as you keep insistently thrusting against the air, against the mattress, the sound of the bedframe hitting the wall behind it, the wall that you shared with Farleigh on the other side.

Then, all at once, you stopped. A loud, mean laugh is pulled from you as you pitch yourself back on the bed, kicking your legs out in front of you to hang off the edge, completely relaxed, completely exposed. You give a loud, amused sigh, looking up at the canopy of the four poster bed.

"God, you're such a little bitch, Oliver, Farleigh was so right," you snorted, "I was the one who actually saw you eating Venetia like your life depended on it, on the lawn of all places," you shook your head, "I don't know what you told Felix to get out of that one but I know what I saw," clicking your tongue, you raised your leg, pointing a foot at him, not even bothering to look at him, "now you won't even touch me in my own bedroom when I'm practically begging for it. I'm choosing to be offended about that; you've offended me, Oliver."

Slowly, your leg lowers, and you kick your heels idly against the end of the bed in the silence.

"Where do you get all your attitude from?" Oliver finally speaks, tone turning scornful as he approached you.

"The money," you fire back with ease, "which is why you always seem to have none." Then, in the furious silence that followed, you grinned sharply at the roof, still not bothering to look at him, "try harder."

When he touches your knee, his fingers gentle against your skin, you kick him hard in the thigh with your other foot -

"The fuck? Did you just kick me?"

"Yeah, and?" He can almost hear you rolling your eyes, "what did you think it was, the wind? Ghost of Grandma Catton?"

"Do you fuckin' want me or not?" He's still standing within kicking range, he learns too late. All the while you've never even looked at him, always looking at the ceiling, hands comfortably, casually behind your head. There's a smug grin on your lips now, something teasing and once more mean.

"Do you want me?" You respond, legs gliding open, an open invitation to your slick, moon-drenched cunt, "I thought you wanted to use me to get back at Farleigh," you said mockingly, finally looking up and meeting his deep, furious gaze. Propped up on your elbows, you give a grin that's all teeth, "wanted to show us who has the real power, that you can get us back for the stunt we pulled after dinner," you sat up further, intense, hungry amusement in your eyes that drew Oliver in to you, leaning in, his hands coming to rest on your thighs as you were almost nose to nose. Your voice lowers, gaze on his lips as your voice turns to almost a moan, "wanted to show Farleigh that you could take anything he thought was his; even me," and you start fake moaning, softly at first, but getting exponentially louder as you leaned back again, against the bed, arching and writhing from nothing, putting on a show that ended with you shouting - "Oliver's a fucking bitch!" At the top of your lungs, and cackling with glee.

Rage exploded within Oliver, and for a moment, overcome with a strange sense of betrayal at your demonstration, he smacks at your inner thigh with all the might he can muster. He can tell it stings, your laughter stops for just a moment, leg flinching up for just a second, but then you're laughing harder if possible.

"Your first mistake - of many - was letting her talk at all," Farleigh's voice from the door is frankly annoyed. You, however, gasp with delight, sitting directly up and looking at Farleigh with absolute glee.

"That's not his fault, I wasn't going to tell him," you pointed out, before looking down at your thighs, and Oliver's hands still on them, and the part of you that must have still stung from the slap, "why is your grip so soft?" You looked up at him with a derisive expression, and immediately Oliver's grip on you goes tight, nails digging into your skin; you're fucking laughing at him again, still, "awe, you're getting there -"

"Could you stop that already?" Oliver leans in, scowling at you. Eyebrows raising in mock surprise, you grinned with devilish intent.

"Stop what?"

"All that fuckin' talking you're doing."

"I don't know, can I -?" But then out of seemingly nowhere, Farleigh sits himself down at the end of the bed next to you, flush against your side. He's still in his crisp, white shirt, and black slacks, looking so put together next to your brash nudity. When his hand comes up to your jaw, barely two fingers beneath your chin to guide you, to have you looking him in the eyes, you have to bite your lip to keep yourself quiet. Both he and Oliver can see how badly you want to laugh, to make any kind of sound, but you hold yourself back.

"Okay, your fucking highness," Farleigh's voice is low and dangerous, full of warning, and Oliver sees you take a sharp breath in, gaze fixed on Farleigh's, "you don't get shit from either of us if you can't keep your dirty mouth closed." Though you nod adamantly, you puff out your cheeks, amusement in your eyes as you're clearly desperate to say something; "what?" Farleigh frowns.

"I have really bad news for you about what I have to do to suck dick," you point out, trying to keep your composure. It's not working, giggles are escaping you at a rapid rate.

"You are testing nerves I didn't even know I had," Oliver admits, desperately trying to sink his nails into you as hard as he could. If he could draw blood, perhaps that would be enough penance for having to endure your infuriating company.

However, it's Farleigh who speaks, lip curling with frustration as he smacks Oliver's hand away from the thigh closest to him. With a solid grip on that thigh, he pulls you leg close to him, forcing your legs wider, exposing you further.

"Then do something about it," he practically orders, and something about the tone sparks a kind of indignation in his chest, "you need me to talk you through it?" He snaps. This, however, quickly turns smug and mean as Farleigh leans in, nose to nose with Oliver and his building frustration with them both; "you know how to eat pussy, right?"

"You should both be very careful what you wish for," Oliver's eyes flash with a dangerous confidence as he sank down on his knees between your legs. You, thrilled and delighted by how the situation was no unfolding, lay yourself back on the bed with contented laughter, hands coming to rest confidently behind your head once more.

Farleigh watches Oliver with intense scrutiny, and for reasons he's not quite sure of, Oliver meets his gaze, refuses to break eye contact. His hand moves first, no longer holding your left thigh, he digs his elbow into your soft inner thigh, bracing his arm against you, forcing your leg further open and keeping it that way, letting him comfortably rest his hand with his thumb on your clit.

"Smart boy," you hum appreciatively, shifting your hips back and forth a little as his thumb is rubbing circles against your clit, "knows where the start button is." He takes his thumb off of you, much to your confusion. His gaze is still locked with Farleigh's. "Fucking hell, are you tired already -?" You sat up on your elbows, scowling at him, but Oliver looks sharply to you.

"Weren't you listening to Farleigh, princess?" Oliver asks, and there's something so deliciously satisfying about the look of flustered surprise on your face in this moment. Beside you, Farleigh huffs a laugh to himself and stands, pulling off his tie. Oliver's full attention, however, is still trained on your. Slowly, as he speaks, he again begins to rub circles against your clit, teasing, never enough proper pressure to be satisfying.

"I -" you started, but he immediately stopped again; out of the corner of his eyes, Oliver sees Farleigh's approving nod. Something about this all has his blood rushing in his fucking ears. You press your lips together, giving him a now expectant look, as if here, I've done what you've asked.

You're so wet, so wanting, ready and waiting, right thigh inching closer, leg curling around him, heel pressing insistently into his back. God you look so fucking good, he wants nothing more than to eat you like a man starving, tasting every inch of you -

"Give me your belt," Farleigh interrupts, and Oliver pauses, mouth literally an inch from your cunt, looking up at Farleigh like he can't quite believe him right now.

"Farleigh!" You exclaim with utter frustration, right leg lashing out to kick him, but he grabs your ankle and holds it tightly. With his free hand he makes an expectant, grabby hand at Oliver.

"Belt, now please." He practically orders.

"Use your own belt, Farleigh," Oliver nods to the belt Farleigh had just tossed to the side of the room, and Farleigh gives him a thin, unamused smile.

"Mine's nicer, and I don't want your cum on it," he explained with a mean, humourless smile. Oliver sat back for a long, furious moment, undoing his belt. The minute his hands were off of you, you tried to whine, but Farleigh, now just in his boxers, sat further up the bed beside you.

"This is overkill, I'll be good," you pouted, twisting to lay your head on his thigh, looking up at him with as pleading eyes as you could manage.

"You're not even being good right now," he pointed out; "both your thighs are over Oliver's fucking shoulders, and you haven't gone thirty seconds without saying something," but clearly you're pleased and flustered at being called out. Farleigh says your name more insistently, and you try and play innocent before he practically orders, "get your fucking legs off of him!" Like he can't quite believe you're still trying these tricks, even though you both seem comfortable in this dynamic.

"Oliver~" Farleigh then practically sings like a warning, gaze turning much colder as it falls back on Oliver himself, "where are we with that belt?"

"What's it for anyways?" Oliver finally pulls his belt free, awkwardly half throwing it to Farleigh, who does actually thank him, before his attention is back on you, bare and warm and wet and - "princess," he says suddenly before Farleigh can even answer his initial question, looking up, and you make a noise of acknowledgement, "you want me to touch you like I mean it, then keep your legs spread like you actually fucking want it," voice going low and sharp, immediately you widen your legs as best you can.

"Oh, he's good," Farleigh says, surprisingly appreciatively, watching as Oliver makes a meal of you.

Finally, finally, Oliver's mouth is on you, tongue gliding playfully along your slit, his nose continually bumping his thumb as it continues to work your clit, firmer this time. You hips wriggle and roll with him, desperate for more, growing frustrated with his teasing lightness.

"The belt can be for several things," Farleigh began, matter-of-factly as he began to loop the belt through itself, focusing on his task at hand, "if she insists on closing her legs, I'm not above using both belts to make sure she keeps them open - this bedframe's especially good for that -" a hot spike of desire passes through Oliver all at once, picturing you bound and open and begging -

"Oh, don't joke about that Farleigh, come on, you know I love that -" you actually whimpered, but Oliver, still keeping in mind the earlier warning, once more stops entirely. You gasp, as if betrayed, before remembering for yourself, actually whining, "you guys fucking suck," you whimper petulantly. For a moment, Oliver wonders if he really aught to be here, if this strange, psychosexual encounter was really worth it.

"You're fucking loving this," Farleigh countered without a moment of hesitation, saying it with such confidence that it almost surprised Oliver, "you just hate that you can't shut the fuck up for any amount of time, and that Oliver isn't actually as much of a little bitch as you thought," clearing his throat, Farleigh cast an evaluative look, before trying to shrug it off nonchalantly, "as either of us thought, I guess."

A moment of quiet stillness passes, and Oliver looks to you, face scrunched up with embarrassment, as all of Farleigh's words apparently rang true.

"Are you hourly, Oliver?" Farleigh then scowls, much to Oliver's confusion. Farleigh looks at him like he's a downright idiot, "the princess is actually being quiet, which means..." he trailed off pointedly. Oliver sat back on his heels, frowning at Farleigh for a long moment, his hands coming to rest on your knees. You, yet again growing incredibly unsatisfied, groaned into your hands.

"Not if you're gonna talk to me like that," Oliver takes a deep breath, sitting tall, gaze unflinching as he meets Farleigh's sneering gaze.

"Then fuck off, Little Orphan Ollie, we don't need you," he spits, "you should really feel lucky that you even got this far -"

"You're all talk, Farleigh," Oliver, with a newfound confidence, and his hands on you, rubbing small, gentle circles against your inner thighs with his thumbs. Farleigh's eyes narrow, but Oliver's smile turns knowing, "I know you can throw her around, and tie her up, and give her orders, clearly," he tips his head ever so slightly to the side, gaze slipping to you, to where you've still got your face covered by your hands, "but we both know no-one can speak for her, but her."

The faint, frustrated whimpering that had been escaping you this entire time goes dead silent. Oliver feels the way you go very still. Farleigh, realising what Oliver meant, also turned to look at you properly.

"'s your bedroom, princess," Oliver leans in, presses a kiss to your inner thigh, murmuring softly against your skin, "what do you think?"

"I think you're edging each other with psychosexual, power-play, bullshit-banter that's doing fucking nothing for me," you snap behind your hands, "and I'm gonna start kicking people again very soon," you warned. Farleigh rolled his eyes.

"Sit up," he sighed.

"No."

"Make a choice," Oliver told you, tone firmer this time.

"Also no." Your voice was sounding particularly petulant, and you even brought your knees together, closing yourself off in front of Oliver. After a long, vaguely irate silence, Farleigh takes a deep breath.

"Is something wrong? Are we at a yellow light? Red light?" He asks, tone far gentler, he leans over, fingers gentle against your hairline by your fingertips.

"Light... colours?" Oliver asks with genuine confusion. Farleigh is far less patient when he turns on Oliver, like he's frustrated to even be explaining this.

"Like a traffic light; instead of a safety word like pineapple, we have green - go, yellow - slow down, red - stop," said like he wanted to include duh, obviously on the end, but refrained, turning back to you.

"And... they're for her?" Intrigued and surprisingly endeared by the concept, Oliver leans forward with a little smile, resting his chin on one of your knees, looking between yourself and Farleigh. He watches you sigh, even with your hands over your face.

"How do you not know how safe words work? What kind of sex have you been having?" Farleigh's judgemental tone hits Oliver square in the chest, but before he can even answer, you finally sit up, expression wide and overwhelmed with frustration.

"Farleigh look at him; he's like if they made repression a person! He's been having the most boring, vanilla sex known to man - if any - and getting off in his spare time to things that would make God cry. Look him in the eyes and tell me I'm wrong -" Farleigh's gaze flicked to Oliver, who suddenly felt himself begin to flush scarlet, and had to sit back again, frowning at his hands. There was something about the shame at being so concisely called out that was... thrilling. Something about how clearly you could see through him, through his persona to the raw want at his very core, it was freeing. You sat up further, with purpose, grabbing Oliver's chin so roughly it shocked him, forcing him to look in your eyes for a long moment.

"You came in here with purpose thinking I was asleep; creepy, hot, deranged; I'm into it," you told him sternly, "I literally could not care less about you otherwise, you're nothing to me the rest of the time. You came here to put me in my place, I don't want you here if you can't do that." Fucking hell, Oliver can feel his heartbeat racing as you shove his face away, your expression almost bordering on disgust.

"So you're..." Farleigh, as if frustrated by this little tirade you saw fit to go on, was unimpressed as he once more checked in.

"Green light, obviously," you threw your hands into the air in exasperation, "it's like you've never met me before -" but before you can slump back against the bed like you so clearly wanted to, Farleigh catches you, shifts behind you to prop you up.

"You're a brat," Oliver says, finally finding the words for the dynamic, and rather charmed by it all. Still, Farleigh has to get a word in edgewise.

"How long 'd it take you to figure that out?" He muttered sarcastically, doing something behind your back while you made a show of struggling and wiggling, refusing to keep your left arm with whatever he was doing.

"So," Oliver clarified, testing out the code, "green light?" You grinned at him, giving a pleased nod. Farleigh, finally having caught your left hand seemingly for good, reiterates the statement distractedly. Then, with a sense of triumph and relief, he pulls the belt, and his makeshift handcuffs, tight.

"Why are you still dressed?" You ask Oliver sharply. You may have had a point, but the game was back on. With your hands secured, Farleigh sat back behind you on the bed, pulling you flush to him, arms secured and pressed between the two of you that was just edging on uncomfortable.

"Why are you still talking?" He mutters into your ear, and he rests his chin on your shoulder, one hand coming to wrap over your mouth, while his other curled around your middle, pulling your legs apart, wasting no time in dipping two long, elegant fingers into you. Your eyes light up, gasping against his hand as the two of you watch with lust in your eyes as Oliver begins to undress.

"The belt," Farleigh's voice has that lazy kind of smugness that Oliver usually hated, but now kind of makes his head fuzzy and kind of like he wants to sink his teeth into him, "is to keep the princess in her place, because someone," he says pointedly, not that you seem to notice; your eyes are closed, and Farleigh's thumb is on your clit while the fingers he has inside of you curl lovingly into your sweet spot, "manages to escape every pair of padded handcuffs either of us have ever bought," he explains, turning his attention back to Oliver, "and she complains about metal handcuffs, and zip ties, has undone every rope knot I've ever tied, and ruined every single tie I've ever tried to tie her up with."

"I bought you new ones," your voice is faint, half a moan muffled behind Farleigh's hand, and Oliver, still unsure of how to respond to any of that, finally turns back to the two of you on the bed. There's something desperate about the way you're arching against Farleigh's firm hold on you, legs having fallen open as your hips rolled in time with his fingers, lewd and needy. But Farleigh's eyes are only on Oliver, watching him with hunger in his eyes, pupils blown wide, gaze roaming over Oliver's physique.

At the sound of your voice, Farleigh's gaze meets Oliver's his smile widening just a touch before he stops entirely. A desperate keening is pulled from you, hips shifting for friction, for anything, as Farleigh rests his hand on your thigh, fingers slick, practically dripping with you.

"No, I'll be good," you whimper, eyes fluttering, half closed, "I'll be -" you were already breathing heavy, "so so good."

"Hear that?" Farleigh murmurs with a vindictive little smile, hand uncovering your mouth, moving to hold your chin, your mouth falling open in a moan as his nails scratch up your thighs. Oliver advances on you both, entranced by the sight of you both, desperate to have a taste, to play along.

"Think she even knows how to be good?" Oliver teases, once more between your thighs. Still, instead of giving you the same kind of proper relief that Farleigh had been offering, he starts out gentle once more.

"Oliver, you're so cruel," you whimper. Farleigh's hand moves from your jaw to wrap around your middle, holding you secure, while the hand that had sat on your thigh moves to your open mouth, Oliver watches, rapt, as he slides both slick digits past your lips, but it shuts you up well enough, lips closing on his fingers as you diligently lap up your own taste from him.

"See, can't trust a word she says," Farleigh purrs. You bite gently on his fingers as you moan, Oliver finally deciding to do more than just tease you. Oliver's fingers are shorter than Farleigh's, but damn if they can't still hit the same high notes. Curling and pressing in a steady rhythm, he alternates dipping his tongue in as much as he can, and circling your clit. Farleigh's hand has moved from your mouth, spit slicked fingers pinching at your nipples, lightly dragging his nails across your skin, while he's started rolling his hips against your back, cock unbearably hard and still confined to his boxers, pressed against you.

You're whimpering and moaning in his ear, straining against your handcuffs, arching, writhing, but Oliver's holding your thighs still and secure and Farleigh is captivated by how enthusiastically he's going down on you, how its shining on his cheeks, his nose - he reaches out, cards his fingers through Oliver's hair. Oliver looks up through his lashes, a fucking gorgeous sight that you're too lost to appreciate. Just for Farleigh.

God he could say something snide, something about sloppy seconds or something about this being the most expensive meal he'll ever have, but he doesn't. He gives a sly, approving smile, and his grip on Oliver's hair tightens.

"Teeth and tongue," he tells Oliver quietly. Oliver doesn't seem to get it at first, but you choke out a whine, arching further into Farleigh, tipping your head against his.

"That's cheating," you gasped, but Farleigh kept running his fingers through Oliver's hair, whose mouth had never left your cunt, nor his eyes Farleigh's face, "you're helping him cheat; you want me to cum this early?"

"You know what's cheating?" Farleigh once more grabbed your chin, angling your head so you could watch Oliver working hard to get you off, "look at him," Farleigh murmurs in your ear, "eyes open, on his," the commanding tone was hard to refuse, and your eyes fluttered open; the fucking sight of him, a mess between your legs, Farleigh's hand in his hair, was almost enough to send you over the edge, "tell him what I mean."

"Gentle- uh, gentle teeth on me- on my-" you desperately tried to string two words together as Oliver began to get more of an idea. Farleigh's hand on his head becoming more insistent, firmer, nose pressed firm against your skin when he finally took the hint, focusing on your clit, sucking and lapping at it, teeth gently teasing as you completely lost the ability to speak. The rhythm of his fingers was consistent and firm throughout it all, pressing just right -

"Keep your fucking eyes on him," Farleigh ordered, almost snarling it into your ear, "I want you to watch Oliver Quick make you cum." But Oliver had eyes only for him, feeling you clench around his fingers, thighs pressing desperately against his shoulder and the hand that had kept them apart, he could feel Farleigh's nails on his scalp and see the heady, smug pride in his eyes.

As you start to come down, breathing hard and heavy and leaning all your weight against Farleigh, you giggle with out of breath contentment.

"Princess's got not manners," Oliver shook his head with an air of disappointment, and Farleigh smirked, brushing some hair from Oliver's forehead before he reached up and tapped your cheek gently.

"Say thank you, Oliver."

"Thank you, Oliver," you grinned, tone surprisingly sincere, as Oliver crawled up onto the bed beside you both. But there's something dark and hungry in his eyes as he watched you both; reaching out, he presses the fingers against Farleigh's lips, your cum coating them like syrup. Farleigh is more than happy to lick them clean, tongue dancing lewdly around Oliver's digits, all kinds of inuendo and promise in his eyes.

Then, Oliver's attention turns on you something dark, hungry, almost deranged in his eyes. He takes your face in hand.

"And you, princess," he says derisively, not even respecting you enough to look you in the eyes in this moment, "this is not your place that I am putting you in," god it almost sounds like a threat, but you're already squirming with want and anticipation, "but we'll get there," he squeezes your cheeks and your mouth opens on command, tongue as pink and wet and desperate as your cunt had been. He spits in your mouth, sudden sneer curling his lip, blue eyes ice cold and demeaning; "and it's thank you, Oliver Quick."

You feel fucking filthy, can taste yourself in his spit.

You want him to do it again.

"Thank you, Oliver Quick."

{ part two here }

#saltburn x reader #saltburn imagine #farleigh start x reader #farleigh x reader #farleigh start imagine #farleigh imagine #oliver quick x reader #oliver quick imagine #oliver quick x farleigh start #oliver quick smut #farleigh start smut #farleigh smut #farleigh start x reader x oliver quick #farleigh x reader x oliver #manic writer

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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 4 months

Text

Counting the Minutes

Pairing: Michael Gavey (Saltburn) x f!reader Warnings: Dirty talk, masturbation, phone sex. Word count: ~1k

Summary: Separated for the Christmas break, her and Michael have to get creative.

Author's note: A little addition to The Golden Ratio, though can also be read as a standalone piece. Day twelve of the Smuffmas prompts - "promise and phone sex". No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.

She nestles beneath the duvet, clicking through the contacts on her Nokia until she reaches Michael’s name. A faint smile tugs at her lips as her finger hovers over the call button, she can’t wait to speak to him.

They have been inseparable since the night that Oliver ditched him. They brought out the best in each other. Michael lit a fire underneath her that made her want to study harder, to strive for perfection in all things. In turn, she softened him up and taught him not to see the world through such a harsh lens.

Their relationship had become serious enough that they had both chosen to spend their reading week together, instead of going home like the vast majority of people at their college had.

Now the term was over, and Christmas had beckoned them both home; Michael back to his mum, and her back to her dad. It’s odd not to see him every day, and though they’d stayed in touch on MSN Messenger, nothing compares to sitting with their legs entwined as they discuss their notes for their upcoming tutorials.

It’s only been a week and she misses the way he rests his chin against his hand when he’s deep in thought, how the intensity of his unblinking, blue eyed stare causes her skin to grow hot, and the smell of Imperial Leather soap and old books that she inhales when she rests her face in the crook of his neck.

Holding the phone to her ear, it rings once, twice, three times before he answers.

“Hello, you.”

His voice gives her butterflies. It’s the sound she’d attribute to how it feels to run your fingertips against plush velvet.

“Hi,” she says back with a coy smile. God, she wishes she could see him.

“How long can you talk for?” He asks.

“I put credit on my phone yesterday, ten pounds, so should be good for a while.”

“One hundred and sixty six point seven hours.”

She huffs a laugh. Of course his mind wanders to the maths of it.

“You think we could talk for that long?”

“Hmm,” he muses, “I’m sure we could find a way to pass the time.”

“Like we did during reading week?” She asks softly, her fingers drawing lazy circles against the cotton of her bedsheets.

“Can’t really do that over the phone.”

“Have you ever had phone sex before?”

She hears him suck in a harsh breath before he replies. “What do you think?”

It causes her to giggle. Of course he hasn’t.

“Would you like to try it?” She holds the phone tighter to her ear, a lazy grin upon her lips.

“What does it entail?”

“Well,” she begins, switching her mobile from one ear to the other, and snuggling further down into the bed. “We describe what we’d like to do to each other while we touch ourselves.”

“One thousand, two hundred and fifty.”

“What?”

“On average, I can make you orgasm in about eight minutes. If we run through all of your phone credit then that’s how many times I could make you come.”

“Michael!” She gasps, feeling her insides flutter at the thought. “I don’t think that would be physically possible. I’ll settle for just the one today.”

He huffs a soft laugh, the sound breathy through the receiver. “Yes, I suppose that’s a bit impractical. Alright then, you start.”

“I wish you here right now,” she purrs seductively. “I want to push my hand up your t-shirt and run my fingers against that little trail of hair that leads all the way down your stomach, before I wrap them around your cock.”

His breathing grows heavier and she can hear the faint rustle of clothing in the background. She bites her lip, her own hand snaking beneath the duvet and into the waistband of her knickers.

“I miss the way you feel,” he tells her, voice shaky, “how tightly you grip me when I first push inside of you. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that sensation. You’re so wet, so warm…”

She can hear the slick sound of his hand pumping over his cock, the sound sends arousal pooling between her legs and she circles her pearl in earnest, the added wetness aiding her ministrations. She hadn’t expected him to focus on the sensation of physical touch quite so much, but Michael is pragmatic after all, and his innovative approach excites her.

“Mmmm,” she moans quietly, “I want you to do that thing where you grab my hips to pull me back against you as you fuck me, it feels so good.”

A broken whimper escapes him, and there’s a brief moment of just his ragged breathing before he speaks again.

“The way your thighs tighten against my waist drives me mad. I swear I can still feel you there when I close my eyes, see the way your tits bounce– fuck!”

She whines, circling her bud faster, the coil in her gut tightening. “Wanna slide my hands down to your arse, push you in as deep as you’ll go, watch how your eyes screw shut as you come inside me.”

He grunts. “Wish I could come inside of you so badly. I need to feel you clenching around me, hear the pretty sounds you make as I fill you up.”

Her hips jerk involuntarily against her hand, and she knows she’s close. It’s been a week since he’s touched her and his filthy words have sent her unravelling much faster than she anticipated.

“I’m close,” she pants.

“M–me too,” he huffs back. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard the moment we get back to college.”

“Oh god–” Her response is cut off by her pleasured cry, as she falls apart, her walls spasming around emptiness as her thighs tremble.

A grunt and heavy breathing on the other end of the line lets her know that Michael has reached his end too. There’s nothing but the sound of their shared gasps for air, as they both recover.

“Do you promise?” She finally asks. “To fuck me hard when we get back to college?”

“Tell you what, let’s go back a day early and we can spend an entire day doing just that.”

She giggles excitedly, rolling onto her side. “I’ll be counting the minutes until then.”

#michael gavey x you #ewan mitchell #michael gavey smut #michael gavey x y/n #michael gavey #michael gavey saltburn #michael gavey imagine #saltburn michael gavey #michael gavey x reader #michael gavey fan fiction #michael gavey fanfiction #michael gavey fanfic #michael gavey fan fic #saltburn #saltburn fanfiction #saltburn fan fiction #saltburn fan fic #saltburn fanfic

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hecateslore · 15 days

Note

I feel like papa Simon is the type of father to raise his in a way that’s just wholesome.

Like, instead of thinking “shit, my dad’s gonna kill me” when a problem arises, to “I need to call my dad” knowing that Simon will be there for them no matter what.

Just that wholesome level of trust, knowing that he might be disappointed with some of their actions but never mad at them. He doesn’t want to be seen as an angry parent or something. Brain ran out juice.

(Awkwardly asks you if you could write something like this (•̆ꈊ•̆ ) )

one thing about the rileys they're gonna call simon and he's gonna pull up but please don't be shocked when he's annoyed.

"Aw shit." Nova mumbles, she sits in the driver seat, her middle brother in the passenger while her youngest brother sits in the back shaking his head in disappointment. "I told you this was a bad idea." Jude scolds, "what's happening?" Oliver leans over to look at the dashboard. "I don't know." She mumbles, turning the car off then starting it again.

"God we're gonna be in so much trouble," Jude frets, scratching his head. "I'll just call dad." NovaLynn sighs, "Don't do that!" Oliver yells, reaching for her phone, "Maybe we ran out of gas, we can just walk to the station." He tries. "I'm not walking that far, Plus, no gas can." She explains while snatching the phone back. Unlocking it quickly searching for her Dad's contact.

Jude let's out a big sigh, "I don't know why I listened to you two. All we do is get in trouble." He looks out the window, shaking his head again. "It's fine, we're fine." Nova chuckles, holding the phone to her ear.

You and Simon were sitting in a restaurant, waiting for your dinner to come. But it's interrupted by Simon's phone ringing extremely loud, making every one turn and look at you two. "Hello?" He answers the phone confused, not expecting to hear his daughters voice on the other line. "The car broke down." She says, "It's Me, Judy and olive in the car, on third street."

"Why are you guys out?" He says quietly into the phone, "Cause I thought it would be a good idea to go get snacks."

Simon rolls his eyes then stands up, signaling for you to get up to, "What now?" You whine, throwing the cloth napkin on the table. "The kids," Simon points to his phone, your eyes go wide with worry.

"Talk to your mom," Simon hands you the phone, "Are you guys okay?" You freak out quietly, waiting for Simon to finish paying for the meals you didn't get to enjoy. "Car broke down." Nova shrugs on the other line, "I told her we shouldn't have done this." You hear Jude's voice in the background. "Mom, tell dad to not yell at us." Oliver says.

When you get to the kids you can see them sitting in the car, what looks like arguing. Simon pulls up behind them turning his hazard lights on. You both get out, and then see Nova get out of the Drivers seat. "I think its dead," She yells over the cars passing by, "I think you're gonna be dead, move." Simon says, moving her towards you.

He gets in the car the boys are still in there, "Be quiet." Simon says, and Jude's mouth shuts before he says anything. Simon sits in the drivers seat, cursing when he has to adjust the seat for his legs, Oliver and Jude looking out the window trying their hardest to not laugh at their father struggling.

Once he figures the car is in fact dead, he lets out a big sigh and gets out, "Call the insurance, we need to tow it back home." He rubs his eyebrows, "It's dead?" Nova worry's, "What do you think?" Simon stands with his hands on his hips.

On the drive home its quiet, The boys looking out the window with NovaLynn between them. Smoke coming out of his ears while he drives in silence. When you all get home the boys get sent to their room while Nova, you and Simon are in the kitchen.

"Did you leave any lights on?" You ask, doing the talking instead of a seething Simon. She shakes her head no, You let out a sigh, "Go upstairs." You pat her shoulder. You watched her walk up the stair sadly like she just hit a family of five with said automobile.

Simon let's out a even bigger sigh, groaning after. "I don't understand," He shrugs, "Where do they get these stupid ideas?" He stands to his full height, letting out a whine when he realizes he's got two more waiting to drive. "At least they're safe and the called us." You try to assure him, Simon shakes his head and makes his way to the living room. Leaving you in the kitchen alone.

"I know where they get the ideas." You mumble to yourself while opening the box of food.

#lunden’s response ❀—#papa!simon #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #ghost cod #ghost headcanons #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon riley cod #simon riley

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fics-a-plenty · 8 months

Text

Goodbyes Aren't Always For Long

spawn!Astarion x gn!reader x Halsin

WC: 1,264

TW: SPOILERS FOR ENDING, angst, talk of abandonment, mention to Astarion's past, "Daddy Halsin", not proofread

So I finished my first playthrough of the game yesterday, and I sobbed. Can you guess what I was the most upset about?

I have been wanting to include some of the other companions as background characters, but I'm not sure who to include. Who would you guys like to see in the future?

As always, enjoy!

"This is selfish, Halsin! And that's coming from me!" Astarion hissed, pacing back and forth through the rented room, seeming to be the only one no frozen in place. There was quiet in response to his statement, as the taller elf stood in front of the door, his eyes downcast.

"It isn't though, Astarion." You popped up from your place at the end of the bed, your body too heavy from the news you were processing through.

"It is!" The pale elf yells in your direction, though you can recognize the pain heavier in his voice than the anger. "You wormed your way into our hearts, into our minds, and now that we have the chance to all be together, just us, you turn tail and run!" His words once again turned to Halsin, who just responded with a deep sigh. "We've spent so long worrying about other people, about the world. Now we have the chance to focus on ourselves. Focus on us."

"I've had too many moment of selfishness on this quest so far. I fled from the Grove, twice, when they needed me most. I left poor Thaniel and Oliver when they were at their most vulnerable. I can't turn my back to the thousands of people that need help now." Halsin said, the slight shake in his voice would probably go unnoticed by anyone who didn't know him deeper. "I would give anything to stay with here with you two, to help find some way for you to feel the sun on your skin again, but I can't ignore where I'm truly needed."

"Here! You're truly needed here!" Astarion shouted again, finally taking steps towards the other man. The quiet sound of his name coming from your lips causing him to turn on his heels. "And you! How are you so okay with this?! You brought us together. You lead the three of us headlong into this love, and now you just sit there as it falls to pieces!"

"You think I'm okay with this?!" You finally shout back, standing from the bed. "You think i want to see either of you leave? You think I want us all to be separated after everything I've done for us, for the world?" Your words causing the two pairs of elf eyes to cast down, one in guilt and the other to hide the tears glossing his eyes. "What do you recommend I do in this moment, Astarion? Chain him to the bed and keep him here as some hostage? Keep him where he is obviously unhappy? I figured that if anyone was against that, it would be you!"

The meaning of your last sentence caused him to tense, crossing his arms over his chest as if to protect himself from the memories.

"Everything I did, all the battles we fought, and the people we killed, I did it for everyone to be free to make their own choices. So if either of you want to leave, then leave! I can say over and over how much I want you both here, for you both to be at my side, but if your heart is pulling you somewhere else, then who am I to stop you?" Your eyes shifted to meet Halsin's with a sad smile, mostly inviting him to make his escape if he truly meant to leave.

Astarion stood unusually quiet, his body tensing more and more with each step that sounded behind him as the druid walked to the door. His eyes closing tight as Halsin mentioned his damned Oak Father watching over you both and returning you to him some day before the door clicked closed.

You both stood frozen for a few moments, not really sure what to do with yourselves. The sound of multiple children's calling Halsin's name and running to greet him as he walked outside to meet the wagons that he would be traveling with floating through the window. It drew you over, pushing the curtain aside as you looked down at the people your partner had set off to help. While the sun hadn't quiet crested the horizon, you were still careful not to open the cover too much, not wanting to expose Astarion to any stray rays of the light.

The pair of hands at your sides caused you to lean back into the body behind you as a head rested against your shoulder. "And what shall we do now that 'Daddy Halsin' is off on a new adventure without us?" The two of you couldn't help but giggle at the nickname your partner has been bestowed with.

Your eyes slowly shifted from the large druid as you scanned over the line of wagons full of people. While you were happy that he was off to help people and follow his dream, your heart ached at the feeling like a part of your was missing. That was until it began to race, your spine straightening as an idea struck you.

"That depends, want to make a selfish decision with me?" You asked, quickly turning your head to look at Astarion's confused face.

"Do you know me to turn down selfish decision, Love?" His playful smirk didn't really reach his eyes, which still showed with curiosity to your meaning.

Halsin shushed the children down as he tried his best to herd them back into the wagon that would carry them on their journey, most of their eyes growing heavy from how early the caravan had decided to leave, wanting to be on the road before the sun got up and warmed the path too much. As the wagons began to move forward, his eyes moved to the windows of the room you three had spent the night before, hoping to catch a last glimpse of you and Astarion, not knowing when he would see you two again. To his dismay, the curtains were shut and still.

After hearing a heavy sigh, he began to move on with the wagons. Though he didn't get more than a few steps before a commotion behind him caused him to turn. His lips split into a smile as he watched you running to keep up with Astarion, who was rushing to the shelter of the covered wagon carrying barrels and boxes of food. A deep laugh rumbled in his chest as you bee lined for him, jumping at him and forcing his arms to rush to catch you.

"You didn't really think you would get to run off on a new adventure without us, did you?" Your voice rang out with laughter once he set you down.

"I wouldn't dream of it." The two of you smiled at a moment before he lifted you into the wagon with Astarion, moving to follow behind it.

"Except for the fact that you did dream of it, and you did actually get away for a few minutes." Astarion sassed, earning his a slap to the chest, "What?! He really thought we were gonna let him leave alone for a few minutes there!"

"And they were pure torture without you both." Halsin responded, placing his hand over his heart, "The Oak Father has smiled upon me and made our separation brief."

"Good save, 'Daddy Halsin'." Astarion smirked, sending the larger elf a wink before the three of you fall into laughter. The caravan continued on it's path towards a new life for many of the people in it, and while it probably wouldn't be easy, it definitely paled in comparison to anything the three of you has already been through together.

#astarion x reader x halsin #astarion x reader #halsin x reader #bg3 x reader #baldur's gate 3 x reader #reader insert

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st4rg1rl-16 · 3 months

Text

━━ ✶✶˖° 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗢𝗡𝗘 | 𝗡𝟰𝗦.

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴(𝘀) ━ 2019 to 2023!f1 grid x driver!female oc

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 ━ arabella talks about her past on her first appearance on drive to survive and attends her first formula one gala on melbourne

𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗲 ━ 2019, 24 march

𝗹𝗼𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 ━ melbourne, australia

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ━ only cursing i believe

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲 ━ I wrote the fic a little over a year ago when I started to like f1 so the first chapters sucks, this one specially it’s short and doesn’t happens much on it but it’s a start. It will get better and more dramatic, you will see 😮‍💨

𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ━ @namgification @burberryfilms @d3kstar @omgsuperstarg

• — need for speed’s masterlist

"ARE you nervous?" At the cameraman's question, the girl dressed in red looked up but didn’t raise her head.

“Why?” English slid across her tongue mixed with a soft spanish accent. Her accent was not as pronounced as the other two hispanic drivers, but if you listened carefully, you could hear it clearly “Do I look nervous?”.

“No, no, no, you look very good” The man was quick to shake his head at her, making her smile slyly.

“Damn right I do” The staff laughed at the girl's self-centeredness when she moved in her seat in a more comfortable position and looked directly at the camera raising both eyebrows.

The coordinator approached the cameraman and looked at her with a slight smile "Okay, Arabella. Are you ready?”.

Releasing an affirmative 'Mmmh' she straightened her back again. She placed her right leg over her left thigh and gripped her ankle, leaning forward slightly in the chair.

"Introduce yourself and we'll proceed to the questions, then you can leave" The girl, still a little surprised to find herself there, nodded and began to play with the silver chain that hung around her neck.

It had been five months since she had signed with Ferrari to enter Formula One and she still couldn't believe it, despite being in a room sitting in front of a dark background with thousands of eyes looking at her and cameras recording her as she told her story so that came out in a Netflix documentary like she was a rock star or something.

It was fucking crazy.

“I'm Arabella Torres and I’m a driver for Scuderia Ferrari” She smiled without showing her teeth and looked at the woman who would ask the questions, who made a gesture encouraging her to continue “I was born in Madrid, Spain and I've always wanted to be a Formula One driver. It's been five months since I've done it and, uhm, I still can’t believe this isn't a dream”.

“At what age did you start driving?”.

“Officially?” She asked and the director laughed while the interviewer nodded “At nine years old. When I was seven I was given my first kart, well actually it was for my little brother, Oliver, who is now a motorcycle driver, but he was very young and was more interested in Pokémon than cars. Anyway, I took over the go-kart and started racing 'illegally'” She made quotation marks with the index and middle fingers of both hands and laughed “I raced against other kids at the go-kart track that they put on at fairs every spring and summer in my neighborhood. Parents bet money against their children”.

There were several laughs and she smiled, shrugging her shoulders.

“When I was nine years old, my father signed me up for the Spanish Karting Championship. I won” She made a face of obviousness raising both eyebrows. "After that I began to climb categories. I won all the races. I remember thinking that it was very boring because everyone was very slow and it bored me, it was very easy to win.

“Is that why they call you 'Speedy'?” The blonde, brown-eyed woman shuffled some papers she held in her hands as she crossed her leg over the other.

She pursed her lips. "A narrator from the European Championship called me that. It was in... 2012, I think? I don't know. I finished the race almost two minutes ahead of the second driver, I was the fastest by a lot. I broke the international speed record for the category. I remember I didn't know what it meant because I didn't know much English at the time and I got offended when people started calling me that, I thought they were making fun of me”.

"Poor thing," she let out an empathetic laugh, "Of course, you were only twelve years old at the time and you had never left Spain, right?”.

“Never”.

"Do you like to go fast? As you said, they were very slow and you got bored”.

"I love going fast," She took a deep breath with a big smile on her face, "I feel the need, the need for speed."

“I feel the need, the need for speed!” They all repeated the phrase in unison making her laugh.

"Okay, let's see..." She bit her lip looking for the next question, as soon as she read it she frowned but read it anyway "What is it like to be a woman in this sport? To be the only female driver in Formula One?" One?.

A snort escaped from between her full lips, “That question….”

"How many times have they asked you this?"

“I haven't counted them but I've only been in Formula One for five months and I'm sick of that question already.” She rubbed her forehead and licked her lips before letting out a sigh. “But okay, I'll answer. Whatever” she shrugged unwillingly and the others laughed making her smile “As a child I had no friends. At school they didn't want to hang out with me because I was the weird car girl who sometimes skipped classes to go to competitions, even many of my teachers didn't treat me well for it.

The interviewer looked at her with her mouth open in amazement and Arabella nodded as if to say "It's true, believe it”

“They were angry with me because I didn't go to their classes because maybe I had a championship in a city 500km away and I couldn't go to school in three days. Sometimes they would ask me "Arabella, why are you wasting your time with that?" or "Arabella, you're a girl, that's for boys" and I would get angry because, who were they to tell me what I should do with my life? I thought "my parents have given me permission" and that's all that mattered to me, that my parents agreed and supported me” She adjusted the belt of the red jumpsuit and continued “As for Formula One, I'm not going to lie, it’s hard. Not because of the job itself but because of the people, all those people who criticize me for just being a woman and overestimate me as if I didn't know how to use a car, it's the most difficult thing”.

“Do they send you a lot of hateful messages on social media?”

She clucked her tongue with a wry smile hanging on her lips. "And death threats. I don't give a shit though– oh wait!” She ran her hand up to her mouth and wide-eyed looked around her “Can I swear?”.

The director along with her manager, sitting behind some televisions a few meters away, agreed with a laugh.

She sighed in relief and smirked, "Ah, so.....shit, I don't give a shit. People can say what they want, after all they're sitting at home and I'm the one being paid to drive a fucking Ferrari”.

She looked away from the woman and winked at the camera, the technician blushed and inadvertently turned the angle ever so slightly.

“Tell me about your family. How is your life now that you have got an eight million dollar contract? Because as far as I know, you didn't have a lot of money growing up, right?”.

She turned her gaze to her "Yes, that's true. My parents worked as cashier in supermarkets and we didn't have a lot of money. We had to sell the house because the bills and debts were piling up. After that we moved in with my paternal grandparents and lived with them for a couple of years until we moved to the coast to live with my maternal grandparents. It was difficult because we were eight people living in a five-bedroom house in which the only source of income was my parents. I almost never saw them, they went to work in the morning and came back at night. My grandmother raised me and my brother, that was when I was six years old.” She clenched her jaw and blinked several times, trying not to cry. Her family didn’t have a very good time as far as money was concerned.

She swallowed back tears and continued “When I started winning races, I started making money and with that I helped out at home. We could eat better, my grandmother was in poor health so we could pay for her medicines too, school materials and bills but still most of the money went on trips to the competitions so it was still a bit difficult to pay for things. When I started in Formula 3 I began to earn more money and paid most of my parents' debts, then in Formula 2 I paid my grandparents' debts and house and some other things to my aunts. Now that I earn so much money I have been able to buy a house for myself and I have bought another one for my parents. Now I want to buy one for my grandparents. I want no one in my family to lack anything, ever”.

The lady smiled sadly and nodded. "That's very noble of you. Is that your goal in Formula One, to take care of your family?”.

“It is one of them but not the main one”.

“What is your goal in Formula One?”.

She fixed her gaze on the camera, her face completely changed to a serious and determined one. "Win. I want to be the best, I want to be better than Lewis Hamilton, I want to win the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix.

"Do you think you'll make it?".

"Oh, I know I will." Her right corner rose pulling her full lips into a self-centered half smile. "Even if I have to die for it, I will."

“GOD, my tits are sweating” She complained while her fingers pulled on the corset, trying to unstick it from her skin so some air could pass through.

The boy let out a laugh that he tried to hide with his hand but she heard him. She looked up at him and raised an eyebrow. “Is this funny to you? I'm suffering”.

“It's not every day that I hear that someone's chest is sweating, sorry for laughing” He apologized but she ignored him by pulling at her clothes again. He looked her up and down, delicately observing how the long ferrari red skirt fit around her body, stopping right at her waist letting the corset of the same color expose the skin of her hip.

He wondered where the team's logo was, he had it on his jacket on the side of his chest but the prancing horse wasn’t on her dress.

Without taking his eyes of her, he licked his lips "If it's any consolation, I think you look very pretty."

“Wow, Leclerc” Immediately a flirtatious smile crept across her lips and he rolled his eyes “And here I thought you were going to be rude and not give a compliment to this beautiful lady”.

“Why give you compliments if you already give them to yourself?” He turned his gaze to the window and observed the streets of Melbourne without interest, without a doubt they were not as interesting as the beauty sitting next to her.

A silence filled the car, it wasn't uncomfortable but it was silence and it was killing Charles because he wanted –no, he needed– for her to say something. He needed them to keep talking because he knew that when they got to her gala they were going to snatch her from his arms and he probably wouldn't talk to her again until the next day.

"I think you're very handsome too." With a murmur she broke the silence. Playing with the rings that decorated her fingers and also looked out her window “The suit looks good on you.”

“Thank you, Belle” A feeling of warmth enveloped him and suddenly he felt that the suit was suffocating him. He cleared his throat and shifted in the seat “I heard you recorded with Netflix today, how did it go?”.

She turned her body, with difficulty because of her corset, in the direction of his so that she could better converse with him. She smiled slightly "It was strange?" Her laugh make him smile "I had never done something like this but I liked being able to tell my story and I'm eager for people to see it. I want them to know me for me and not for what the press says or the haters on the internet.

Giving her a somewhat sad smile he took her hand in his and squeezed it affectionately "I'm sure they'll love you."

"Thank you, Charles." Her eyes traveled all over his face as she responded with a grateful smile.

For Arabella, her relationship with her teammate was strange. She knew him from Formula Three but they never spoke because he was older and was always with the boys his age while she only had Mick and Lando as friends since most of the other kids didn't like that there was a girl in Formula Three, much less one that was who was kicking their asses. It was when she started in the Ferrari academy in 2016 that they were introduced to each other but they didn’t hang out too much since he was still affected by the death of his godfather, Jules Bianchi, and she was very focused on finishing her studies to be able to focus on her career better.

Eight months ago, Ferrari was beginning to tease that both would be the next drivers for Formula One, so their managers suggested that they start talking to improve their camaraderie and she couldn't complain, they had a good relationship but it was strange since sometimes there was tension and he had a hard time talking to her, sometimes he seemed shy or cold and that drove her crazy because she only wanted a friend, she didn't have any so being friends with her teammate sounded good.

While for Charles his relationship with Arabella was pleasant or at least it was until a couple of months ago, when he began to look at her with different eyes and he didn’t like that because it was dangerous for both him and her, they would be kicked out of Ferrari because the contract they had signed and Arabella would be massacred on social media, it would be a disaster. Of course, this is speaking in case she also reciprocated his feelings and they started a relationship, but it didn't look like that was going to happen at any time because his teammate didn't even deign to look at him for more than a minute, let alone look at him that way.

He didn't want their friendship to be affected by his little crush, he wanted to be her teammate and her friend, but unfortunately sometimes his feelings got the better of him and he didn't know how to act in front of her so things sometimes became awkward.

“Do you think the sponsors will like me?” Her question caught his attention, taking him away from her thoughts. He looked at her and for a moment he swore he saw a small, insecure girl.

He caressed the back of her hand with his thumb and smiled at her "They're going to love you, like everyone else and if not better for me then”.

She let go of his hand, much to his dismay, and gave him a little push on his arm, making him laugh in amusement.

Suddenly screams began to be heard outside the car, drawing the attention of both drivers. Each one looked out their respective window, amazed to see fans crowded at the door of the hotel where the small gala for the beginning of the season would be held.

"We have arrived" The driver informed them, drawing their attention; they didn’t even remembered that there was a third person in the car.

They looked at each other. Charles took a deep breath, placing his hand on the door handle "Wait here, I'll help you down."

“There‘s no need...”

“Yes, there is” And with that he got out of the car, the screams increased.

The girl took a breath and began to play with the pearl necklace that decorated her neck.

“Hostia puta” Muttered to herself in her native language before sighing and putting a smile on her face. Holy shit.

Just in time the door opened revealing her teammate. He extended his hand towards her offering support, she looked into his eyes and nodded ever so slightly to herself before sliding her hand over his. As soon as she got out of the car, the flashes blinded her and the screams left her deaf for a few seconds until Charles began to pull her towards the hotel door.

She smiled at the cameras and let herself be carried away by the monegasque, who took her arm and wrapped it in his own before leaning towards her ear. His lips lightly brushing against his ear “You're doing so good”

Her body froze, why she suddenly had goosebumps?.

The brown haired boy walked away from her although he was still at a quite questionable distance and locked eyes with her. Arabella frowned slightly, getting lost in his green eyes so light that they seemed transparent unlike her own, which were assimilated to fresh grass.

What was happening?.

“Bella!” Daniel Ricciardo exclaimed as soon as he saw them, interrupting whatever was happening between them. The younger two turned in the direction of the voice, finding themselves with a small group made up of some of their fellow drivers.

“Danny” The girl smiled, letting go of her teammate to head towards the others. Immediately the middle child of the Leclercs felt a sting in his chest when he saw her leaving, but then was distracted when he saw something shining on the girl's lower back.

'FERRARI'

The team's name in capital letters danced with every step the girl took, written in sparkling gems on the skirt of her dress not far from her butt.

“Mon dieu” He breathed out through his nose, shaking his head. It was going to be a very long night. My god.

“I don't know if it's legal for you to drink alcohol in this country” The spaniard male looked with concern at the glass of champagne that was dancing between his compatriot's delicate hands.

"Don't worry, I asked Ricciardo and he said the minimum age here is eighteen” She pursed her plump lips in a smile and brought the glass to her mouth, finishing off the golden liquid in one gulp. She wrinkled his nose “Esto es un coñazo.” This is so fucking boring.

Sainz let out a small laugh behind his glass. “Yes, it is.”

“Ah, I know!” A gasp came out of her mouth and her gaze lit up, which scared the McLaren driver who looked at her with terror “We should escape”.

“No no no no. Don't even think about it, Bella” He left the glass on the bar where they were leaning while he shook his head repeatedly.

A pout appeared on her lips, painted red as her dress “Oh, come on! Please, Carlos” She began to fix the boy's suit as if it wasn’t perfectly ironed, she squinted at him “Tell me you wouldn't eat a hamburger from McDonalds instead of this fucking appetizers that feels like you're eating cardboard”.

He looked at her interested and she smiled, he was going to accept. He opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted by the arrival of the monegasque.

He looked at the girl's hands on the older man's chest and frowned. "What are you doing?"

“She's seducing me” The black-haired man murmured in english, earning a pinch from the girl “Oh! Hija de–“ Son of (a bitch).

“We were talking about going to eat something real and not this” She picked up a appetizer that was next to her with a disgusted expression before turning to Charles to look at him curiously “Do you want to come? It seems that Carlitos doesn't want to come with me”.

To be alone with her? In that dress of hers? Without thinking he answered yes and she stuck her tongue out at Carlos, who rolled his eyes.

“If you leave, you should go to your hotel, to sleep and nothing else” Carlos opened his eyes widely and set his tone in the last sentence, insinuating something.

"How boring," She twisted her mouth before taking 16's hand, taking him by surprise "See you, Carlitos. Have a good time, eh”.

In response, the older man gave her the middle finger to which she laughed before beginning to pull her teammate, who looked at the older man over his shoulder.

—Careful— Who with his index and ring fingers pointed to his eyes and then to them as if to say "I'm keeping an eye on you."

An hour and a half later they were both sitting on the hood of a Ferrari devouring some hamburgers while looking at Melbourne from a viewpoint that Daniel had advised Arabella to visit.

“Will we get in trouble for this?” Guilt had begun to form in the female driver’s stomach. What if they got into serious trouble for having escaped? Or worse, what if she got Charles into trouble?.

Even without swallowing his burger and with sauce on the corner of his mouth, he gave him a toothless smile “If we do it, it's worth it. Dieu, those appetizers were horrible”. God.

She laughed thinking he looked adorable, she looked down at the burger in her hands and took another bite.

“Don't worry, we already talked to all the sponsors” Seeing her still worried, he dropped the hamburger on his lap and took her chin in his huge hand, making her turn her face to look at him “We did our job. They will tell us nothing. Calm down, okay?”.

Since she didn't answer, he got closer to her and leaned his hand up to her, forcing her to look up at him "Okay?"

She let out an affirmative "Mmmh" finally looking into his eyes. And suddenly everything stopped: the lights, the noise of the cars, the air moving the trees, the voice of Harry Styles singing the chorus of "Lights Up" from the car radio. Everything, everything stopped and began to move in slow motion when Charles, cautious, began to approach her while her gaze began to run a marathon between her lips and her eyes.

And then everything exploded, everything came to life again at a speed faster than the cars they drives for a living as soon as their lips collided. As cliche as it sounded, Arabella felt fireworks explode around her as the hand holding her chin slid to her throat, Charles's other hand wrapped around her waist pulling her closer. The hamburger she was holding in her hands fell to the ground when she let go of it to bring her hands to the boy's hair, she let out a moan into his mouth when the hand on her neck squeezed in response.

They broke apart as her lungs began to scream for air, Charles resting his forehead on hers before tucking an unruly lock of hair that was covering her face behind her ear. She watched him silently while trying to catch her breath.

He smiled, kissing her forehead to which she let out a sigh, closing her eyes. "This, for this we can get into trouble."

She felt him pull her lips away from her skin and almost moaned in protest but she decided to shut up when he brought their foreheads together again and looked at her so intensely that she felt like she could see into his soul.

“If I get into trouble for you, it's worth it. You are worth it”.

#charles leclerc x reader #lando norris x reader #carlos sainz x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #max verstappen x reader

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cripplecharacters · 24 days

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Hi! I am working on a story where one of the three protagonist has a burn scar. This character has from the eye to half their right cheek of a burn; this happened around 9 years ago (the character was 10.)

I am working on historical-fantasy setting, I know you guys are not historians but I was hoping you could help me out with ideas.

In my story, there is a few chapters where the characters go to a snowy mountain for a couple of days, and there are temperatures ranging from 20ºF to 10ºF with snow and harsh wind, is there any protection/possible cream needed for the face and the eye for that situation?

Also, around 10% of the story has fights that include armour (including a helmet to protect the face and the head,) would a character with that type of burn may need a special helmet?

Just to clarify, the character for most of the story doesn't have any mask or anything covering their face, except in the moments of battle where every other character is also using a helmet and armour.

Not sure if there is anything potentially problematic in this, but the character got that injury due to a baby dragon of the family accidentally burning his face (this is a society where dragons are like animals and common in the house.) Because it happened so many years ago there isn't any angst feeling or people in his community commenting about, except in a scene where the protagonists are talking about traumatic things and this character mentioned that they remember when it happened his parents were afraid he was not going to make it, not realizing he was hearing it.

There are other background characters with burns, scars and stumps due to the nature of this world, but I am concentrating in this protagonist right now.

Hi!

For weather this cold, your character would need a LOT of moisturizing creams. Possibly a comical amount. They would help to protect the skin from both the wind and cold. Burn scars don't have the natural oils, so his skin would be very dry normally, let alone during the winter. Even in normal temperatures, it's recommended to apply moisture multiple times a day. If something like sunscreen is available to your character, he would use it too (and often). Burns are sensitive to the sun, and some people use it even when it's cloudy. During the winter it's also commonly used because the snow reflects it. (As you said, I'm very much not a historian and I don't know what would work as non-modern equivalents... I assume that shea butter or olive oils could be on the table here? Certainly better than nothing. Or even just Magical Herb Mixture, if it's fantasy.)

As for the eye protection, I would say that most people in 20ºF to 10ºF (-6ºC to -12ºC) would need it, especially if it's both snowing and windy lol. I have experienced those temperatures and it can be hard to see even without extremely sensitive skin/eyes. But generally yes, harsh wind could be actively painful to someone with a burn scar. If it's too hard on him, he could wear some very loose cloth to cover it (prime example of a scenario where a face covering makes medical and just logical sense). It shouldn't be tight; maybe just a large hood or veil that would still be away from that part of their face.

Note: it could also not be painful at all. Burns come with nerve damage, and sometimes nerves make non-painful stimuli hurt really bad, and sometimes they make it so a person doesn't feel pain when they should. If your character is the second, they would bear it better at the time but still have all the other issues - skin breakdown, contraction, cracking, itching.

Not sure what other kind of eye protection would be available, but even regular glasses would help with the "not getting blasted with wind and snow" part. Make sure that with the protection he wears, it doesn't touch the scar directly. That can be extremely painful and cause skin to break in that kind of environment, especially if he's not a regular at the Snowy Mountain. If they are, they will handle it much better - scars get more or less desensitized with repetitive exposure.

For a helmet, I think having it padded from the inside would be a good idea. Preferably with something relatively smooth (maybe cloth or fur?) so that it doesn't scratch the burn. Potentially something to "stabilize" it (maybe their helmet could be custom-made for their exact head size?) so that it doesn't hit his scar over and over too if it's too large. I appreciate that others characters wear helmets too, and that he does for only a minor part of the story :-) (smile emoji))

The backstory scenario sounds fine to me as well! House pet trying to play and causing an injury is definitely a thing when it comes to facial differences haha. I can imagine that it would be even more common if the pet in question is a dragon and not a regular dog.

Having multiple burn survivors in a world with fire-breathing creatures that live in human homes is a nice element of worldbuilding :) (smile emoji)! I think that if this kind of thing happens often, then some of the resources I mentioned (moisturizes, sunblock) would be more readily available for your main character and people in similar sets of circumstances.

Thank you for your ask, I hope it helped a bit!

Mod Sasza

#anonymous #mod sasza #face difference #writing guide #writing advice #writing resources #writing tips #writing disabled characters #burn survivor representation #historical fiction

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wavypotatochips · 1 year

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Hey angel! I’ve loved all the Sergio fics you’ve written! Can I request reader being younger than him and dating him but she’s never been with anyone in bed so she has her first time with him please? And he’s very sweet and patience and he never forces himself on her please? Thank you 🙏

𝐏𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 | 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐨 𝐑𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐬 [ 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖, Minors DNI ]

𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: Sergio Ramos x Female Reader

Word Count : 2.3k

𝘈𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘕𝘰𝘵𝘦: This took me so long because I have never wrote NSFW before, but ya knowwww first time for everything right? ANYWAYSSS I Hope you like how I represent your idea ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚!!

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ REQUESTS ARE OPEN, currently covered in college work so as of now uploads will mainly be on weekends. Thank you for your patience c’: ♥

You are head over heels in love with Sergio Ramos, a man who makes your heart skip a beat every time you see him. You love the way he laughs, the way he talks, and the way he looks at you with those warm, affectionate eyes. Every moment spent with Sergio feels like a blessing, whether you're going out on a date or simply spending time together at home. You feel like you can be your true self around him, and he accepts you unconditionally for who you are. When you're apart, you find yourself daydreaming about Sergio, thinking about all the wonderful moments you've shared and all the exciting adventures you have yet to experience together. You can't wait to see him again, to hold him close, to feel his warm embrace. Despite the media's constant attempts to portray you as being with him solely for financial gain due to your 3-year age difference, it is obvious that you are madly in love with him.

You walk into your home to the delightful aroma of delicious food cooking in the kitchen, and as you approach, you see Sergio donning a chef's hat and apron, fully engrossed in the art of cooking. You laugh as you ask, "What's cookin' good lookin'?" while admiring his chef attire and thinking how adorable he looks. You informed Sergio before you left earlier that you didn't want to go anywhere for your anniversary because you simply wanted to spend time with him and him only. Despite your current fame as a model, your upbringing in poverty left you with the belief that you shouldn't spend a lot of money on pricier items. Sergio believed that by preparing a meal for you, he might add some personal touches to the evening as he is aware that you don't like to flaunt your riches or eat at upscale establishments. With a big smile on his face, Sergio greets you with a warm hug and kiss, then turns your attention to the kitchen table, where he has set up a beautifully decorated table with candles, flowers, and your favorite music playing in the background. As it was a beautiful day outdoors when you were shopping, you are wearing a yellow sundress and white sandals to show off your newly painted toes. You smile and lean forward to take in the fragrance of the flowers, " Cariño, no tenías que hacer todo esto (Honey, you didn't have to do all of this)," you say. "I have to, of course. Las princesas siempre deben ser tratadas como tal. ( Princesses should always be treated like one.)" Your smile is still present as you shake your head. He has always been a gentleman towards you.

“You didn't find anything you liked?,” He questions seeing you don't have any shopping bags as he places a plate of delicious tomato and basil bruschetta, drizzled with olive oil and balsamic vinegar in front of you. “No, I didn't find much… Thank you baby,” you respond as you pick up the piece of bread, biting into it. As you savor the flavors of the freshy tomatoes, Sergio tells you how much he loves you and how grateful he is to have you in his life. "Cariño, solo quiero que sepas cuánto te amo y te adoro. Nunca me hubiera imaginado hace dos años que estaría con un ángel como tú. (Baby, I just want you to know how much I love and adore you. I would have never imagined two years ago I would be with an angel like you.) You are the most important person in my life, and I cannot imagine my world without you. Cada momento que pasamos juntos es un tesoro que atesoro con todo mi corazón. (Every moment we spend together is a treasure that I cherish with all my heart.)" Hearing his sincere remarks, you pout your bottom lip as his love and affection fill your heart. “Te amo y te adoro tanto, mi amor. (I love and adore you just as much, my love.) Thank you for being there for me and for showing me your unending affection.”

After you finish eating your "appetizer," Sergio takes the plate from you and puts it in the sink. A few minutes later he brings out a succulent roasted chicken, perfectly seasoned and cooked to perfection. He serves it alongside a colorful medley of roasted vegetables, including carrots, zucchini, bell peppers, and rice. He knows chicken and rice is your favorite and you dislike eating items that are too heavy on your stomach, so he thought he could cook it with a bit more of his personal touch. Given that you are often the one cooking and that if not you, he hires a chef, you are taken aback when you see the plate in front of you. He removes the chef's hat and coat he is wearing, hangs them up in the kitchen, and then sits across from you. “Let's eat shall we?,” he says and you eagerly nod. Throughout the dinner, Sergio keeps you entertained with his charming personality and witty jokes, making sure you feel loved and cherished. Overall, the evening is a perfect celebration of your love for each other, and you couldn't have asked for a better partner than Sergio Ramos.

The two of you went into the living room after supper to watch a movie and drink wine. The wine bottle is empty by the time the movie is an hour into it, and the two of you are making out.

Moaning against his lips, you are straddling his waist and exchanging saliva. He presses you into him by placing his hands on your ass and starting to rock you back and forth. Although dressed in jeans, he has a noticeable bulge. You start to experience intense arousal, and you decide that this is the night you want him to take your virginity. Two years have passed since you two started dating, and those two years have been full of love, charm, and happiness. Just as you wanted to see all of him, you also wanted him to see all of you. Sergio never makes you do anything you didn't want to do; he always asks you first before moving forward. The way you are leading the kiss and pressing against him a little more firmly than usual has given him the impression that you might go farther this time. Normally, after you two make out, he goes into the bathroom to satisfy himself with his hand.

"Want take this to the room?" you ask as you gently pry yourself away from him. He pants as well, asking, "Are you sure?," because he knows you already know what that will result in. You nod while biting your lower lip. As he pulls you up, he presses his lips once more against yours and gives you a tender kiss. You wrap your legs around his waist as he proceeds towards the bedroom. He kicks open the bedroom door, groaning into your lips as he lays you on the bed. When your dress rises, he crawls on top of you, lovingly kissing your neck before laying his hand on your exposed thigh. He rubs your thigh and asks, "May I?," edging ever-closer to your panties. Your panties are soaked just from him stroking your thigh and the earlier things he did. You bite your lower lip while nodding. "Words my love," he raises his head and begins to nip at your earlobe. After your makeout session, you still can't catch your breath as you pant out, appearing to be out of breath, "Yes, my love." He presses his lips once more on yours while massaging your clit with his hands as he glides over your underwear. Your gasp from the unknown wonderful sensation allows him to slip his tongue inside your mouth. You thrust your hips upward to exert greater pressure on his hand, which makes him sneer in defiance of your demands. He bites your bottom lip, pulls back a little, and mumbles against your lips, “Princess is so eager, huh?,” before releasing go. He stops touching your panties, gets out of bed, and starts to unbuckle his belt and take off his shirt. He needed his boner to be released because it was throbbing and felt trapped against his pants. He unzips his pants and lets them fall to the ground as he flings his belt to the ground. You start to fear you can't handle him as you open your eyes slightly in response to how huge his bulge was, but the tingling sensation between your thighs told you otherwise. As you spread your legs wider to allow him to fit between you, he leans back on top of you and presses his lips hungrily back against yours. Only the thin cotton of your damp underwear and his boxers were in between the two of you, so you can feel his boner more intensely. He moves your panties to the side and runs his finger over the wet slit before inserting one of his fingers. As your legs tighten up against him, you gasp at the sensation. He gently pulls his lips away from yours as he enjoys the sound of your small moans against his ear. He keeps moving slowly until he thinks he can add another finger. When he finally does, you whimper in pleasure. You had touched yourself before, so you are not entirely naïve, but his fingers felt very different from yours. You start to press your hips against his fingers in an effort to get him to move more quickly, but he resists. Instead, he reclines and asks, "Are you sure you want to do this? " while gazing down at your face. With love in his eyes, he continues, "If you're not sure, it's okay, darling.

You nod your head, determined that this is what you want, “I want it. I want you.” Sergio has always made you feel comfortable throughout the entire relationship and by him reassuring you that it is okay if you do not want it only made you want him even more. You love this boy with your entire heart. He kisses your forehead, nodding his head as he begins to kiss and suck on your neck, more than likely creating hickies, as he begins to slip off his boxers. Once his boxers are off, he begins to slip your panties down as well until they are completely off. Once they are off, he rubs his tip against your slit to lube it up with your wetness. He kisses you on your lips, “Tell me if it is too much, Okay?” He says, causing you to nod your head. He begins to slowly push his tip inside, the feeling being uncomfortable for you as it was a weird sensation. Meanwhile, Sergio is trying not to cum already from the tightness of your pussy wrapped around his tip. He groans against your ear, causing you to feel turned on even more. He begins to slowly thrust his tip in you back and forth until your pussy welcomes him more and more. Your legs begin to clench against him, you pant softly as you tremble underneath him. Maybe because you are a secret masochist, but the slight painful but pleasurable feeling made you feel so good. “I love you so much, you know that?,” He whispers against your ear as he continues to go deeper inside of you. By now, your mind begins to feel cloudy as you are only focussing on the feeling of him entering inside of you. He makes sure to go slow, until now, he is about 2 inches inside of you. He feels himself not being able to fully go inside as your hymen was restricting him. “Princess this may hurt a little bit, but I promise itll feel okay after?,” he says as he kisses your forehead. You nod your head biting your bottom lip softly as he wraps one around your neck forcing your head to press against his chest. He thrust harder inside of you, causing your hymen to break, and allow him to get half way inside. You wince harshly as you grip his sides, a shaky breath escapes your lips. Sergio is using all of his internal strength to not bust inside of you as you squeezed him tightly. As he lets go of you so your head can lay back on the bed, he begins to whisper sweet nothings into your ear and remain still so you could get used to his size before he continues on. A few minutes pass and you begin to move yourself up and down, hinting you wanted him to continue on. He gets the memo and continues on, thrusting inside of you slowly until he is fully inside of you.

As the minutes pass, you become more at ease with him inside of you, and the pleasure outweighs the discomfort, and you are able to adjust yourself. Your dress hem is now up to your belly button as you throw your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. This allows him to push deeper into you, which makes him groan, "Damn Y/N you feel so amazing." You moan next to him and enjoy how his long, firm cock stuffed you.

The rest of the night followed by the both of you not just having sex, but making love.

Sergio has always been deeply in love with you. He is completely smitten by you and can't imagine his life without you. And of course, you feel the same way about him as you two have a strong and loving relationship. Sergio feels incredibly lucky to have been blessed with you in this lifetime, the one who loves him equally as much as he loves you. He is grateful for the love and joy that his girlfriend brings to his life, and he looks forward to a future filled with happiness and love.

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 1 month

Note

Dear Crowley, I heard this dashing and very intelligent fox beastman is looking for a job. He used to work as a manager at a popular theme park, so he probably has a ton of experience! Maybe he'd make a great addition to the staff?

The way I choked laughing when I read this interaction 🤡

I decided to structure this interaction like a job interview between Crowley and Fellow (facilitated, of course, by the Reader/Prefect's written recommendation). I thought it would be funnier this way! (Note: Fellow is definitely sugarcoating, glossing over, outright lying, and laying it on thick in some of his responses, but since this is framed mainly from Crowley's perspective, these inconsistencies are not pointed out.)

Enter; An Unkindness of Ravens.

This is the one recommended for the open teaching position?

Crowley eyed the man standing before him. He was beastman, as per the Prefect's description, with a pair of red fox ears and a fluffy tail.

A crimson-lined violet jacket, half a cape tossed over one shoulder, was secured over an olive vest and a snug waist. Golden embellishments and starry badges dangled from his lapels, and the same sparkles studded his top hat. Fun patterns cut into diamond windows raced up his dark green trousers. His long legs were crowned by knee-length spats, and he held an elegant cane topped with a fox in his gloved hands.

His look was professional yet playful.

The candidate was handsome—no doubt about that—and the keen gleam to his eyes implied a sharpness, a pointed wit, about him.

A horrible thought occurred to Crowley: He's not more dashing and intelligent than me, is he? No, no, it simply cannot be done! There’s no one fairer than I!

The headmaster brushed off his concerns, vanity placated, and cleared his throat.

"Let's see here... You are Fellow Honest, correct?" Crowley referred his provided resume. It was handwritten and contained a number of spelling and grammatical errors.

"That's my name! Don't wear it out," the beastman chirped with a wink and the twirl of his cane. "Fellow Honest, at your service."

“Please tell me about yourself, Mr. Honest.”

“Well! Not much to say, I’m afraid. I’m just a wanderer down on his luck, lookin’ to find his way in the world. I saw your job posting and thought I should shoot my shot.”

“I see on your resume that your last position was as a theme park manager…? Why the sudden shift in career, if I may ask?”

"You see, I've always been a lad of big hopes and dreams. I went into the entertainment industry wanting to spread that positivity to others.

"My park used to attract quite a few families and their children, so I came to know the kids quiiite well! They'd tell me stories of their school days, talk about the things they'd want to become in the future. So full of imagination and wonder. I realized I wanted to be a part of that process. Teaching them, guiding them... so they can be the best adults they can be!"

Fellow chuckled—it slid off his tongue easily, as though his laugh was slick with honey. "I thought I'd be the one inspiring them. Turns out, the kids were the ones to light a fire under my tail."

"My, what a stirring story!" Crowley cried out. "I can tell that your passion for working with children is true~

“Now then, why Night Raven College? There are any number of schools you could apply to if you wish to lend your assistance to the youth."

"It's true. I thought to start my own school before this," he confessed, "but Night Raven College called to me. Its graduates are influential, the school's reach immense, and the headmaster most magnanimous... I figures if I wanted to make an impact, this was the place to do that."

Fellow hesitated.

"... And, as one bright young boy once told me, Night Raven College is a place where everyone and anyone is welcome. Even someone from as humble a background as myself can fit in here."

Crowley found himself nodding along with his narrative. The shower of praise was making him feel flattered and floaty—and the more Fellow talked, the more the headmaster felt himself leaning into his words.

But the interview questions. They were not through yet.

The thought slowly sobered Crowley up. His resolution returned, duty and honor-bound to pick the most qualified candidate for the job.

No time for fun and games, not now.

"How would you describe your own magical capabilities? As you know, NRC is an establishment meant for training tomorrow's mages. To that end, many of our tenured professors boast a strong history of magic themselves."

"Ah, that." Fellow’s smile was wry, playing off the anxious little tug at his cravat. “That is…”

“Answer the question, Mr. Honest.”

“Dire, Dire, Dire—may I call you that?” He paused, but failed to grant enough time for a response. Fellow moved fast, talked fast—his cane spinning fast, fast, fast. “I’ll be the first to admit my magical might isn’t on the same level as that of your colleagues.”

Crowley frowned. “Then I’m afraid we cannot proceed with the interview. It would be rather challenging for the students to learn from a teacher who has yet to master magic themselves...”

Fellow’s face fell. “You’ve already made up your mind?”

“I apologize, but this discussion is over.”

“H-HOLD IT!!” he protested, his polite facade dropping. Anger and upset flared on Fellow’s vulpine features. “Where do you get off, cutting me out the very moment I mention…”

Crowley’s expression hardened, the grip on his staff tightening. “Oh dear, it looks as though this interview is headed south.”

Dark power roiled up from within him. The binds on his strength, snapping. Fellow whimpered like a fox backed into a corner by a larger predator.

“A-Ahahahah… Please forgive my outburst, sir~” he simpered, sinking back into his seat. “I-I’d still like the chance to explain myself, oh-so-generous headmaster!!”

“You may,” Crowley replied. His face was almost entirely shrouded by the shadow of his mask. His expression, unreadable.

“You’re right. I… I don’t have a lot of magic to spare. But…!! Even if that’s true about me, I don’t want the students to think like that, judging their own worth based on what an institution says is desired or not.” Fellow’s fingers curled into shaking fists in his lap. “In an ideal world… everyone can pursue their dreams without discrimination, without being told they’re not enough.”

“The final question for you,” Crowley announced grimly. “How do you plan to instruct if you cannot lead by example? How will you instill the lessons and values of Night Raven College?”

“Magic isn’t everything,” Fellow fired back passionately. “It doesn’t matter how much magic history they can recite or how many fancy spells they know.

“What’s most important to me… is that the students find enjoyment in what they learn and can make use of it. That’s how I’d teach them. Practically, and in a way that allows them to laugh and enjoy life for the fun that it’s supposed to be.”

“Hmmm.”

Crowley stared him carefully, like a crow nestled amid the tree branches. Watching, listening.

For the first time, he felt as though he was witnessing the true Fellow Honest.

His interviewee heaved a deep, dramatic sigh, a hand running through his hair. He barked out a bitter laugh.

“I get it, you bigwigs never want to hear what the little guys have to say. I’ll see myself out. It was a waste of my time to try this again. I knew I should have struck out on my own."

Fellow headed for the exit, stomping unhappily, his violet cape trailing behind him. From the other side of the door, a small cat boy in oversized clothes peered in.

“C’mon, Giddie,” Fellow snapped, “we’re done here.”

The child obediently followed. He stumbled in boots that were untied and far too large for him. Still, the concern in his young face did not waver.

Crowley’s eyes followed them until their figures vanished out of sight—but the applicant lingered in his mind. He returned to Fellow’s handwritten resume, mind wandering to the answers the beastman had offered. Different answers, but nonetheless ardent ones.

“… Interesting,” Crowley mused, his lips pulling back into a smile. “Most interesting.”

He's an applicant to consider.

#twst #twisted wonderland #Dire Crowley #Fellow Honest #twst interactions #twisted wonderland interactions #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #Two Ravens at the Writing Desk #stage in playful land spoilers

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olivia091108 · 4 months

Text

how to be a jackass Introduction

Word count:1.k

Tonight I’m going out with my sister and her boyfriend because apparently ‘I need to get a a life’ which I think is kinda rude but the only reason she’s saying that is because her and her boyfriend are thinking of moving out together but I don’t know anyone around town and she doesn’t think I’m responsible. She’s right

“Are you kidding me we need to leave in a half hour and your still in your pyjama’s chop chop”she claps her hands in my face.

She can get quite stressed when it comes to me I wasn’t the easiest to grow up with I was a bit of a hothead we both have a few stories from tell of our fights which she still has a scar form that she never shuts up about

“Alright calm down I have loads of time” I push myself off the sofa and just as I walk past her I barge her against the wall and quickly scurry to the bathroom and lock the door before she gets crazy.

I walk into my room with a towel wrapped round my body and one in my hair and flick the tv on just to have some noise in the background it was an alright show jackass that I would watch when I get back late and nothing else is on except teleshoping. I don’t have anything against it but they need to step it up cos I know give me 10 or 20 bucks I’ll do anything they do.

I find an old shirt from when I was like 15 or something and picked up some jeans that were laying on the floor before slipping on some shoes.

“See I’m ready in what 5 minutes you need to take some Xanax I swear”

“Your hair is literally dripping” I flip my head back and forth no doubt getting it on her. And walk down to her boyfriend Oliver who was gonna drive us.

Once we get their it’s already kicking off and walk towards the bar but some grown men are standing there ignoring me while I ask them to move so I manage to budge my way through them and get a rum and coke.

I start to sweat being surrounded by 15 people who clearly know nothing about personal space. I see my sister and Oliver talking to some dude and my sister starts pointing me out and calling me over.

Y/n come here so you know that show you love jackas-

Love? No I don’t love it I don’t even like it that much but what does that have to do with anything?

“Y/n”she says my name like my mum used to when I would break something she jerked her head to the man just standing there and at first I’m confused but then I realise who he is Oh shit

you don’t like the show sweetheart?the leader of the show asks

“I mean It’s alright but you could do better.” He laughs a bit at my words “oh yeah what then?”

“Nah I didn’t mean to be rud- no I’m serious what do you think”

“Do more nasty shit or more extreme stuff and more painful stunts all in saying is anything you lot do I could do if I knew I was getting paid or just for a laugh”

Ill buy you a drunk if you make out with that man at the bar he points to a fat man who is drenached with sweat and is missing a tooth at the bottom

��Easy.”

I walk over to him and straight up grab his face and kiss him slipping my tongue and feel him grab a handful of my ass and a few seconds later pull away and walk back over to Johnny using the bottom of my shirt to try and wipe my tongue

“Ok your’e turn Pants that biker playing pool” Johnny looks at him and he looks like he will smash his face in. He walks over there and waits till he has his back to him and as hard as he can yanks his jeans down with his boxers coming as well exposing his bare crack Johnny turns round and ores tends to be in a conversation with some random lady.

The man pulls Johnny to face him and holds him by the colour getting redder and redder. His friends start crowding him and they look like they’re gonna jump him so I walk over and tell him.

“Sir they ran into the bathroom he didn’t do it.”

He lets go of Johnny and storms towards the bathroom with his friends following hot on his heals. I burst out laughing making my eyes water.

“I was about to get my ass kicked”Johnny said joining in on your’e laugh.

The night progressed like this having a couple drinks doing some dares. I didn’t even know that Olivier and my sister left. Some of his fiends joined in.

Running along the bar naked then getting pushed off -Chris

I poured salt in my eye

Ehren getting pool balls thrown at him.

And obviously Steve o lit himself on fire spreading it onto my hair

And so on by the end we were all drunk as fuck and had been kicked out.

I wake up with a throbbing head ache and open my eyes but getting blinded by the lights once they adjust I’m in the bath but I don’t recognise it. I get out and try and find out where I am I hear voices so I walk towards it and then it clicks.

We got kicked out and went back to Steve os apartment carrying on the night everything else’s is a bit hazy right now.

I see all of them in the living room chatting and I also see Steve o wearing my shirt that is 4 sizes too small and some boxers.

Hey Steve o can I have my shirt back I groggily ask making them look towards me probably forgetting I was here.

Yeah dude. He takes it off and throws it at me and I take off the one in wearing and give it to him.I turn around and change

“Dude that bruise is gnarly” I look down at my hip bone and see it decorated with a purple bruise from when I tried to break the door down.

“Y/n you weren’t bullshitting last night we’re you? Johnny asks

“What about?”

“Well we were thinking you were right we gotta be more exciting and you seemed pretty into it would you wanna join.”

“No offence babe but Johnny she was drunk as shit she won’t do any of it sobre”

“Try me.”

Time skip

“Im y/n y/l/n and this is electric mouse trap.”

I stick out my tongue and let Chris clip it on to my tongue and immediately feel the electricity. I Jump around in pain trying to keep it in as long as I can to prove to them I can do it. I Shake my head and rip It off my tongue and It feels numb. I try to speak but all that’s coming out is jibberish and everyone including myslef laugh.

“Welcome to jackass y/n”

Guys I’m baaaack

This will be a slower burn series of bam x reader and jackass girl don’t know how often I will post but I’ve planned at least 3 chapters and I’m so excited message me any headcannons you wnat in this

Ik bam wasn’t in this but just you wait

My requests are still open

-liv

#liv’s writing #jackass x reader #bam margera x reader #steve o x reader #steve o #bam margera #johnny knoxville #jackass imagine #jackass #chris pontius #dave england #danger ehren #ryan dunn #wee man #preston lacy

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novistarplanet · 9 months

Text

Daddy's Girl

ExDrugDealer!Connie x BlackReader

summary:

cw:

wc;

a/n; hope yall don't get offended by this only read this over once this is also for my fllwers 🩷 + requests are open

Growing up you were raised with a very religious background your furthest memory to date was your mom making you sing in the choir.

You didn't mind at all you actually liked going to church at times with your father being the pastor you were inspected to be modest all the time since you had a reputation to uphold.

Which means no growing up. No parties, No skimpy clothing, and most importantly No boyfriends.

You could never wrap your head around it.

"Y/N pull out your bible and pay attention maybe kids your age can learn something from it" Your Auntie Ruthie smacks your arm with her hand fan.

pulling out your pink bible turning the page to the scripture.

It felt like forever of your dad preaching about the same things but with different words.

Each time he finishes reciting the stories a string of "hallelujahs" and "amen" flooded the medium-sized church.

it was going just like every Sunday went it was just about time for offering when you noticed a man well boy with a collection of tattoos that marked his neck and entire two arms standing beside your father

"Brothers and sisters ill like to introduce a new family member of our church Brother Springer"

looking around you it's clear as day not everyone was with the idea of him joining.

His full name was Connie Springer or "Constance" as people called him in the streets. He was a big-known drug dealer in the area who was recently shot.

Who now found himself in your daddy's church ranting about him finding God.

Did you believe him? Hell No. But as a Christian, you have to see the good in people.... so who are you to judge?

“Now folks I want you to open him with open arms lets all bow our heads and say a prayer towards this young brotha!” on cue, everyone bowed their head as your father recites the words.

You could feel eyes watching you while each word was spoken. slowly opening your eyes up you see Connie smirking at you biting his lip

you couldn't help but stare he was oddly attractive your aunties warned you to stay away from thugs and deadbeats.

but something about him made your heart skipped.

closing your eyes again focusing on the prayer and blocking him out but it wasn't too long before negative thoughts filled your mind.

dirty ones.

you have been having dreams of someone buried deep between your plush dark toned thighs slopping all over your messy cunt while one of his hands is wrapped around your neck.

rising up from your two soft pillows your clear juices dripping from he’s barely visible stubble beard.

His hands soon found home around your jaw shaking it roughly

“open your fucking mouth bitch” the dark figure huffed out.

quickly opening your mouth obeying his command

he used the hand that was wrapped around your jaw lifting it up and shoving it back down.

“you know what to do stop actin dumb” he takes his other hand that was originally holding your thigh to slap you across the face till your pink little tongue came out.

“ m’imma reward you for being so good” he hurtles a gob of spit down your throat forcing you to swallow it.

“yea thats it you really want daddy’s dick huh? you fuckin dirty whore” he lets go of the placements of hands as now they found their way towards his pants.

unzipping them revealing dark blue boxers with a large bulge

slowly pulling the-

“Y/N! You better not be sleep!” your auntie hits your side again slightly shoving you.

by the time you opened your eyes, everyone was on their way out probably going to red lobster or olive garden.

“now this is my first and only daughter y/n” You look over to see your dad talking to Connie looking directly at you.

connie still had the look in his eyes he did before

“well look at gawd y/n come over here and say hi to our new member”

you walk over gripping at your coral-colored dress.

“Hola hermosa, ¿cómo estás?” he spoke his spanish fast and you couldn’t lie you found it attractive especially the way hes tongue moves

“huh?? sorry im not very fluent in spanish” heat flooded your cheeks quickly. maybe you should have paid attention in spanish.

“ahh it’s okay Cariño i was either at first” followed by that he opened hes mouth displaying hes pearlie white teeth shiny teeth and me you guess.

“well good news baby connie here is coming to bible study”

okay what does that have to do with you???

“and you’re gonna help him find the way of god”

WHAT??

Today was the day you and connie were having a one on prayer session. You didn’t even know the boys last name.

and here you are wearing a simple peach shade dress with white stockings underneath.

not to mention the black lace bra that cups your breasts perfectly

you walked in to see Connie already there reading over the bible

he was wearing a wife beater tattoos marked all over hes two arms depictions of guns,skulls and you even spotted prayer hands.

you quickly rush towards your seat right in front of him he slowly raises he's head up meeting you in the eye.

"how long have you been staring at me hermosa?"

you quickly bended your head down shying away from he's grazed as he chuckles.

"im just joking with your baby"

despite the lingering sexual tension in the air you continue preaching

"uh okay so in Matthew 4:1 it talks about temptation from the devil and"

as you continue with the verse you can feel hes eyes lingering across your stockings you couldn't help but to look towards hes peeking becip.

during the session Constance lip bites , winking and even hes hand traveling too far down your cleavage

" and we drink the grape juice to symbolize Jesus’s purity an-“

“your not pure are you”

your head whips up with quickness as the words left hes mouth”

“what are you talking about?”

“i know you we’re having a wet dream about me sunday”

he arises from hes chair and puts your right leg over hes shoulder

he pulled up your skirt exposing your white dolly panties with a small bow on top with a small patch of wetness on the soft cloth.

“the only name i respond to is daddy” his hands found comfort around your throat. testing the waters he squeezed tightly.

“ is that clear whore?”

“yes daddy” small tears begin to prick from the corner of your eyes.

everything happened so fast your skirt and panties fully removed with your left breast making an appearance out.

“ do i have permission?”

you noticed his pants were ready off leaving him in his boxers in the short time you came to terms with everything.

slowly nodding your head up and down in agreement

“words hermosa”

“yes daddy”

he , mischievously grins down at you pulling off in boxers in a swift motion revealing he's length in all its greatness

you never seen a dick face to face this was all new

the tip of he’s head lined up to your entrance making its way inside of you

you can feel your body being rigid with inch length goes in

“Dios mío why didn’t you tell me you were this fucking tight”

he started moving in and out of you at a slow pace. You can tell by the look on his face he was holding himself back

he made soft movements as he kept going in and out

the pain on its own was unbearable it was like someone stabbing your uterus over and over again it didn't make it no better that you can feel him knocking at the entrance of your Cervix.

after a while of bad after bad thumps pleasure develops in your tummy.

"ohhhhh my god"

your hands went down and gripped the base of the chair despite the loud sounds the chair constantly makes. he stops for a minute repositioning himself into a better angle and striking himself back in you. His movements came with practice and skill as he continuously flicker your G-spot. You breathes were uneven and lost in the noises that your pussy made.

you could tell he was close he's movements became more sloppier with each stroke.

"im cumming oh my fucking god im cumming"

he's fingers found their place on your clit going in a circular motion.

you too both groan loudly together while the waves of pleasure passed you as he spills himself inside you he speaks again with he's deep voice.

"same time next Wednesday?"

#connie springer x reader #connie springer x black reader #connie springer x y/n #connie springer x you #imma add tags later #editing this later #for my followers #love yall

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slutburn · 4 months

Note

can we the people have your catton quick headcanons can be nsft if you like or just seperate felix and oliver headcanons i hunger for them. 🛀🏼

cheers

sorry this took so long, i wanted to give you good ones! cattonquick is my lifeblood atm, those will be at the end:

oliver:

oliver didn’t decide on a big grand plan to lie to felix beforehand. he’s more just impulsive than some kind of evil mastermind. felix wanted to know about his family & because he felt they were unremarkable, oliver made stuff up. it snowballed into something much bigger when felix pulled away and he felt the need to continue lying. we saw how the professor responded to his background — he’s probably gotten this response all his life when he’s talked about himself to people he wants to impress. oliver didn’t think that felix would be invested in their friendship long enough for his lies to matter.

oliver is a bottom. this is just an infallible truth in my mind. i don’t want to elaborate or overanalyze it lol

oliver is gay — the only reason he makes any romantic or sexual advances towards women is because of their connections with felix. i don’t think he really thinks about sexuality, he just gets impulses and all of them are towards men

oliver has to masturbate a lot. being around felix who’s constantly teasing and flirting with him is rough. every day is a challenge, especially at saltburn. does he lock his own door? that’s for you to decide..

farleigh is the first out lgbt person oliver has known who’s not made to be an outcast because of it. it’s another reason he’s jealous of him.

felix:

felix is bad at kissing and bad at sex. emerald fennell said this herself. he doesn’t need to be good at any of it because girls (and guys) will still want him regardless. but i like to think that sex between him and oliver changes things bc im a romantic at heart lol.

felix is truly, genuinely unaware of how much he takes advantage of people. his life has always been made easy so why would he not just enjoy the attention? it’s not like he’s forcing people to be do things for him, they’re offering themselves up to him. no need to overanalyze why people love you so much.

felix went to boarding school — i’ve always assumed this means it was an all boys school. this is why he’s so good at unabashedly, publicly flirting with oliver. felix had his first kiss with a boy and he’s had all kinds of experiences with boys. maybe he even lost his virginity to a boy.

CATTONQUICK:

JSYK @leiflitter’s you’re almost home has basically become canon fix-it in my head so read these with that in mind. also if you want a1 cattonquick headcanons, i reblogged theirs a few posts ago

once people know that they’re together, felix and oliver are always holding hands or touching each other. but you’ll never see them kiss in public.

felix is the one to propose. it’s only appropriate given oliver’s insatiable need to be wanted, and this would be the truest form of want and love that felix can give to him after keeping him at a distance for so long.

felix loves for oliver to wear his clothes. we know this. even when they’re married and live together, with their OWN CLOSETS, felix will hand oliver his own sweater to put on after they have sex and he’s going to pee. oliver doesn’t protest.

oliver loves when felix ties him to the bed. he can stay that way for hours, felix giving him sips of water in between sessions of whatever he’s decided to do to him

they love movie dates. oliver always wants to pick a scary one because felix is easily scared & it’s hilarious to watch this 6’5” man yelp and spill his popcorn in the theater over jump scares

#saltburn #saltburn headcanons #cattonquick #q

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builtbykittie · 1 year

Text

Play fighting

Samuel Kiszka x f!reader

See part two here

Summary: Your best friend Sam invites you over for a dinner at his place, theres no harm in a little play fighting, right?

Words: roughly 3.6k

Warnings: some friends to lovers action, alcohol consumption, slapping/hitting, sorta bratty Sam, SMUT, dom Sam, slight impact play, masturbation, unprotected sex (don't do it y'all), slight cock warming, BONUS: mentions of Jake having a gf (sorry Jake girls)

A/N: a Sammy fic in honor of his birthday, I had to speed through this to get it out before/by the third because, for some smart reason, I decided to start it hella late so I am very sorry if it is not the best.

✧

You find yourself at the steps of your best friend's house for about the 2nd time this week. Sam had invited you for dinner with him, Danny, Jake, & Josh after you recently mentioned wanting to see his brothers again. Unsurprisingly, instead of simply making a reservation at a nice restaurant, Sam insisted on making dinner.

"Y/N!" Sam exclaims as he opens the door, throwing his arms in the air and immediately pulling you through the door. "Jesus Sam, I saw you yesterday," you giggle while trying to escape his hold on you.

"Hi guys!" you wave to the boys sitting at the island, you must've been tardy since you got here after everyone else. Setting down your bag on the counter, Sam stabs his index finger into your side, eliciting a yelp and flinch from you.

"You asshole!" You whine, lifting your arm to hit him, but are stopped by a death grip on your wrist. "Calm down, princess," he nonchalantly lets go of your wrist and brings his hand up to your chin, squeezing the skin of your cheeks to make your lips pucker.

"Knock it off," you mumble, pulling his hand away from your mouth to pour a glass of wine.

You walk into the living room where Jake is sat with tequila in hand listening to the music playing for background noise. "So... Y/N," Jake devilishly smiles, your mind preparing for whatever he's about to say. "Yes, Jakey?" You sit down next to him, anxiously sipping the wine you poured just minutes before.

"You and Sam hookup yet?" He nudges your arm with his elbow which causes a drop to jump up and splash back down in your glass. "Jake!" You gasp, and you feel your cheeks start to grow red "I can't remember how many times I've told you, we're just friends!"

Jake lets out a chuckle from within his chest "oh come on Y/N. You're always flirting with each other, I swear to god I've seen his hand up your skirt." You start to become flustered in reaction to his words, and the thought of your best friend's hand up your skirt gets stuck in your mind. "First of all, I can assure you that you've never seen his hand up my skirt."

You stand up in protest "and second of all I would not give up our years of friendship just to relieve some 'sexual tension'." You watch as Jake's lips curl up into a shit-eating grin, now you know you've messed up.

"So you admit it? There is something with you two."

Of course there was. Sam was too hot for his own good and you couldn't stop yourself from thinking it. You would never admit it aloud, but you loved whenever Sam fucked with you. There was no denying you felt something for your best friend, however, there was nothing to do about it.

"No Jake that's not what I meant," you lied "can we talk about something else? Please?"

---

"How was it?" Sam smiles as you approach him at the sink, waiting your turn to wash your plate off. "Terrible," you crash your hip into him with a giggle "no, it was really good, thanks Sammy."

"Ah, the wife's calling," Jake jokes in that British accent everyone likes to call 'Oliver Reed', specifically when he's drunk. Not long after picking up the phone, Jake hangs up with who seems to be his girlfriend "hey guys I'm gonna head home."

"You sure you can drive like this?" You giggle, settling next to Sam on the couch. "I can drive," Josh suggests, knowing damn well he's not any less drunk than anyone else here.

"Whatever, just get home safe," Sam wraps his arm around the back of the sofa and leans back, waving to his brothers getting their coats on and ready to leave. "You guys, if there's anyone who has to drive I think it should be Daniel," Sam nods his head in agreement with your words.

"What? Are you trying to get rid of me?" Danny smiles, grabbing his keys and jacket. "No! I was just saying!" you blush, sitting up and leaning forward. "Oh it's fine, I needed to get some things done around the house anyways.. and it'd be better if they didn't die. I'll see you later," Danny meets the other two at the door with a smile.

"Bye, guys! Love you!" You call as they file out the door, earning waves and 'goodbyes' from them before turning your attention to Sam. "Guess it's just you and me handsome," you joke, bringing your knees up to your chest and bumping him with your leg.

"How about we switch this music to something smoother, maybe.. jazz?" Sam gestures to the record player, standing slowly on steady legs. Suddenly, that image Jake gave you of Sam's hand up your skirt pops into your mind. You got nervous at the thought of being alone with Sam, tipsy and listening to smooth jazz.

You stand up to shake the inappropriate thoughts, you'd be lying if you said this was the first time you thought about him in this way. "Aww, Sammy," you giggle "you finally got an incense holder!"

You've been pestering him for not owning a holder for weeks, at some point he must've given in and bought one. You pull a mystery stick out of a mini vase "what is it? The scent."

"I don't know, light it and find out," Sam turns his head to look at you after finally getting the damn vinyl situated, the soothing sounds of jazz filling the room. "You know," Sam adds, his lips curling up into a smirk "Jake was talking to me earlier."

Your heart starts beating at an unimaginable pace, of course Jake talked to Sam as well. "Really? Me too," you step back from the shelf where his vinyls and incense sit, trying to muster up all the confidence you could.

"Yeah? Then I'm assuming he said the same thing to you, huh?" Sam has that stupid grin on his face that he always does whenever he's up to no good. "The thing about me and you?" You put your hands on your hips.

"what about you and me?" Sam smirks "I was thinking of what he said about my cooking."

Suddenly your cheeks get dangerously hot and you plant your face in your hands "oh god, Sam!" Of course, Sam knew what he was doing, it was in his nature to fuck with you. He knew exactly what you were talking about.

His devious laughter at your distaste infuriates you. Without a second thought, you are angrily walking over to him and hitting his chest with just enough force to make him fight back.

Before you can get a second hit on him he's hooking his arm behind your knees and lifting you into the air. "Hey!" You kick your legs as he adjusts you to be hanging upside down. You're lucky the dress you wore was fitted or else everything would be on display for your best friend to see "Sam! I'm wearing a dress!"

"Maybe you should've thought of that before you hit me like a little brat," he chuckles, your slip dress starting to bunch up at your shorts. Before you can protest, you're being laid down on the floor and he's fixing the skirt "wouldn't want my princess to be uncomfortable."

His cocky words spark something inside of you, you start to feel the wetness growing between your thighs and there was absolutely no stopping it. You start to sit up, grabbing onto Sam's legs and pulling him down with loud giggles.

"Agh! Man down!" Sam shouts, prying your arms off from around his legs. You quickly stand up before he can do anything, jolting back to avoid his arms swatting at your feet. "Come on Sammy! Stand up, tough guy!" You cackle, holding up your arms as if to punch.

"Oh, you don't really think you can beat me, do you?" Sam chuckles, rising to his feet and grabbing your wrists in an iron grip. "Well if you'd let go of my arms maybe I could!" You giggle, yanking your arms back and kicking his shins.

"Ow, you little shit!" He lets go of your arms and attempts to tackle you despite your many dodges. Finally, Sam gets you down and wrestles for dominance, the both of you frantically moving around the soft carpet.

Suddenly, you scurry up to your feet and away from your best friend. "Where do you think you're going?" Sam chuckles, quickly standing up and walking over to you. You were standing by a wall, already plotting your escape but too late once he approaches you.

Unknowing what to do, you start hitting his chest, loud giggles escaping your lips with each throw of your arms. Sam slots his leg between your thighs and slams you against the wall, grabbing your arms and pinning them by your head.

You stop giggling, your eyes wide and mouth agape. "What's wrong baby?" Sam smirks as you squirm under his grasp, unable to escape from his hold. Sam's eyes grow dark and blown out with lust "looks like you lost, princess."

"Sam," his name comes out in a broken whisper as you look down to your feet, there was absolutely no chance of shutting him off now. Staring intently into his eyes, you start to stutter "Sam, we're drunk."

By now, the incense has burned out and you both completely drowned out the music playing in the back. "Mm, not really," he inches closer "it's been a while."

He was right, you were buzzed, but not drunk. You were frightened, not sure if this is how your friendship with him would end. Your mind races as he brings his face even closer, his warm breath fanning across your face "Sam.. Are you sure?"

"I'm positive," Sam presses a kiss to your cheek "are you?" You stood with your reflections, trying to decide what to do as quickly as possible.

"Mhm," you consent, looking up and locking your eyes with his. "Let me hear you say it, lovely," he kisses the corner of your mouth, letting go of your arm and stroking your cheek. "Yes, Sammy. Please kiss me," you whisper, gazing into his beautiful eyes with great adoration.

Wasting no time, he smashes his lips against yours. Your lips molded together beautifully, locking like puzzle pieces. To your surprise, the slow, passionate kiss turned hungry within a matter of seconds. He drops your arm with his other hand, his arms wandering from your face to your waist, holding you still against the wall, and his tongue swipes across your lips.

You open your mouth slightly to grant him access to your mouth, and his hands move down further to hold your ass with a squeeze. "Sam," you pull back "take me to your room."

"A bit impatient, are you?" Sam smiles smugly, landing a slap against your ass which causes you to release a small moan. With a chuckle, Sam is lifting you by your legs once again and throws you over his shoulder to bring you to his room, now making sure your dress falls to your waist with a slight shake of your body.

With every step up the stairs, you grow more and more impatient, your arousal soaking your panties at the excitement of knowing you were moments away from fucking your devastatingly attractive best friend.

The door opens and he sets you down, you look around the familiar setting of his minimal cozy room, basking in the beautiful scent of sandalwood and possibly eucalyptus. Your moment of contentment is interrupted by the loud slamming of the door behind you and Sam's footsteps toward you.

The first time you had ever considered Sam in this way was after a long day. Stress had piled up due to work and you decided to relieve it by taking a warm shower, but after that didn't work you decided to take it into your own hands, literally. As you reached your peak, you pictured Sam's hand replacing your own, and you couldn't shake that thought for weeks.

"Tell me doll," Sam cups your cheek "how do you like it?" You impatiently pull down your shorts so that they're resting at your ankles "I don't care, just fuck me."

"What's the magic word?" he squeezes your face in between his hands to the point where it starts to hurt. "Seriously, Sam?" you pull on his hands in an attempt to get him to let go.

"I'm not gonna touch you until you say it, spoiled brat," instead of letting go, he squeezes your cheeks tighter. "Oh my God, fine." you muster up the best 'fuck me' eyes you possibly could "please Sammy, fuck me. I need it so bad."

"Atta girl," he lets go of his hold on your cheeks, gently slapping one cheek before pulling the top of your dress down below your breasts. "God, you're fucking gorgeous," Sam marvels at your chest, your nipples instantly stiffening at the air hitting your freshly bare boobs.

"On the bed," Sam demands, undoing his belt. You do just as he says, climbing on the bed and sitting on your shins, your hands tucked neatly between your thighs so that your arms are pushing your breasts together slightly.

The bed you were sitting on was the same bed he held you in while you were crying, the same bed he took you to after blacking out at the bar, the same bed you gossiped to him in, and now it'll be the same bed he fucked you in.

He lets both his pants and boxers fall to his ankles, pulling them off his feet and walking toward you. "Oh my God," you mutter, squeezing your thighs together even tighter than before. "What is it, baby?" Sam wraps his hand around his cock with an iron grip, pumping at a dangerously slow pace that made you wince in anticipation.

"Sam, you- you're big," you stutter, shamelessly staring at his length in awe. "What'd you expect pretty?" Sam smirks, incredibly proud of himself.

"I don't know," you finally break eye contact with his cock to look at his face "not this."

"Were you really about to fuck me while expecting me to be small?" Sam fakes offense, a shit-eating smirk you knew all too well playing on his lips. "No! I thought you were gonna be, I don't know.. average," you stutter, your head dropping to look down at your knees.

"Look at me," Sam's voice gets deeper. Your head darts up, meeting his lust-blown eyes.

Sam takes steady steps toward you, climbing on the bed and sitting in front of you. He taps the underside of your thigh "Sit up." Without another second to waste, you're rising, shifting your weight fully onto your knees.

Sam hikes up your dress, sighing at the inconvenience of your panties blocking his access "take these off." You shimmy the fabric off of your hips and down to your knees as he removes his shirt from his body. Sam does not wait to slot his fingers between the lips of your heat.

Your hand flies to his cock as he starts to rub merciless circles around your clit, swirling your hand around his rock-hard length. "Oh God, Sammy," his name flies out of your mouth so effortlessly, like it was always meant to emerge from your lips in such a lewd situation like this.

Sam speeds up his pace, your upper body collapses into his shoulder and your legs start to quiver. You begin to slow down your arm, leisurely stroking him and tugging with each pump. "Fuck Y/N just like that," Sam groans, almost as a whisper.

"Sammy!" you moan "oh my God Sam, I'm close." The sensation was so addictive, jutting your hips forward to chase your upcoming high.

"I know baby," he could tell by your breath significantly speeding up and your moans progressively getting louder and louder.

Before either of you can reach orgasm, he pulls his hand from you and rips your hand away from him. Leaning in toward you, he whispers deeply into your ear "don't think I'm letting you off that easily, after hitting me and saying you could beat me."

"Please Sam," you whine, falling back down onto your shins with a pout. "Jesus Christ Y/N, don't be so impatient. I'll make you cum once you've earned it."

"Yeah? And how do I do that Sammy?" you furrow your brows, annoyed at his cocky attitude. "When you stop acting like a spoiled, needy bitch," he grunts, flipping you over and shoving your head into the sheets.

You've seen sam upset before, but never like this. It was intriguing, and without a doubt hot.

With your ass pointing up in the air, he situates himself behind you and lays a smack against it. "I think you need to apologize before I can fuck you," Sam grasps the meat of your ass.

"Oh my God," you mumble, just loud enough for Sam to hear and slap your ass in disapproval. "Sam, I am so sorry for being a brat. Please, fuck me," you beg, swivelling your hips for him to know you're ready.

"Good," Sam swipes his hand over the red mark on your ass before grasping the base of his cock and flicking his tip over your soaked pussy which is just enough for you to moan his name softly.

Without warning, Sam is stretching you out in one slow and agonizing thrust before pulling out to come back down with one quicker, sharper thrust into you. The sting of him stretching you out felt so amazing "how does it feel doll?"

"So good Sammy. Please, never stop," you moan, moving your head to make sure your words are heard. Sam bends down so that his chest is flush against the skin of your back not being covered by the silk fabric, snaking his arm around you to meet his fingers with your clit, your body jolting at the sensation.

You mewl as he starts to rub harsh circles on your little bundle of nerves whilst thrusting deep into you. "Yeah? You like that baby?" Sam mutters between thrusts and heavy breaths. You shriek his name into the sheets of his bed before frantically nodding your head, your arm snaking down to meet his hand and adjusting his fingers to be pressing hard against the swollen bud.

"Oh God Sam," you cry, the head of his beautiful cock hitting a different sweet spot with every thrust. He hit spots you didn't think were possible to hit, spots that you didn't even know existed and were desperate for attention.

"Come on princess, let go for me," Sam whispers, his cock beginning to brush against your g spot with each movement of his hips. Sam sits back up, fingers still rubbing around your clit and still thrusting mercilessly into you, now just covered in a thin layer of sweat caused by your hot bodies pressed against each other.

"Shit," he mumbles, his orgasm quickly approaching him. A heavy fog takes over your mind, completely blurring your vision as the knot in your stomach tightens.

The band of pleasure inside you snaps, and you cry out as he helps you ride out your high, his orgasm coming just seconds after. The warm sensation of his cum spurting out inside you was addicting, you would let him stay inside of you like this all night if given the chance.

The pleasure he gave you was unlike anything you've ever felt before, it was so different from all your other partners that failed to please you. It's like Sam already knew your body, like you've done this with him a million times before.

His thrusts come to a slow stop, staying still in the same position for a few moments to fully come back down to earth. Sam starts to pull out "wait," you mutter, not ready to miss the contact just yet.

"Just tell me when you're ready baby," Sam's tone is much different from what you've seen tonight, it was soft and sincere. As much as you loved his sassy attitude, this sweet tone could instantly make you fall in love all over again.

"Okay," you mutter after waiting a few seconds, bracing yourself. Slowly, he pulls out of you, and you hiss at the sensation followed by a breathy moan. Sam slowly crawls around and lays next to you, grabbing your waist and pulling you closer.

You cuddle your head into his chest, damp due to the thin layer of sweat coating both of your bodies. "Jesus Christ," you start to giggle, your head tilting up to get a good look at his gorgeous face.

You slowly sit up and crawl toward the edge of the bed, struggling to stand on weak legs, Sam following you. You shed off the remaining fabric on your body before lifting the toilet seat and sitting down, Sam wetting a washcloth with warm water as you go pee. "Wait," he places his hand on your shoulder to sit you back down while you go to stand up.

Sam taps your knee "open for me." He gently wipes the sticky slick off of your inner thighs before peppering soft kisses to the area. "Thanks, Sammy," you smile, kissing the top of his head and holding onto him as you both stand up.

"So what now?" you say, laying back down next to him in the bed, your mind flipping through every consequence of having sex with your best friend. "Shh," he whispers "we can talk in the morning."

You nod your head, lifting your upper body to press a kiss to his beautiful lips before tangling your hands in the soft tresses of his brown hair. It was within a matter of seconds that you start to doze off to the warmth of his body.

"Goodnight Sam," you whisper, getting even closer to his body, as if that was even possible.

"Goodnight lovely."

✧

#greta van fleet #sam kiszka #sam gvf #sam kiszka smut #greta van smut #gvf smut #greta van fleet smut #greta van fleet fan fiction #gvf fanfiction #sam kiszka fanfiction

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