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#you know that they exist outside of each other... right!?!??!
wosoamazing · 11 hours
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Newest Signing
Part 1 - Fire on Fire Series A/N: This is the first part of my new Leah Series, I have already started writing and planing parts of it but if you have any ideas let me know and I will try and include them.
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Leah sat on her phone scrolling through various social media platforms, it hurt to see so many other people happy, with their partners when she wasn't, she had never had a successful relationship, to her no one was right, no one was the right match, she didn't feel like they clicked. So many of her exes told her that she had 'too high standards' or that 'soulmates don't exist' or something along the lines of 'you aren't perfect so why do you expect someone else to be perfect'. However she wasn't looking for a soulmate, she wasn't looking for someone perfect, she was just looking for the someone who was perfect for her.
She had started to think that maybe she was just asking for too much, and that her standards were too high, but that was until the day Jonas introduced the team to Arsenal's newest signing.
"Girls this is Y/N Y/L/N, she is our newest signing, and yes she did sign outside of the transfer window as approved by the FA due to issues at her old club, but no further questions on that please. She isn't going to be fully joining training until our Portugal training camp, just so she has some time to settle in but also a well deserved break, but you will see her in the gym and around the place, so please make her feel welcome. I think she is going to be really great for the team."
Her eye's immediately connected with the brunettes, she was tall and muscular, her face held the dreamiest blue eyes, and her smile was perfect, she continued watching the girl as she hugged Stina, the way her hair flowed, her body flowed, it was safe to say Leah was mesmerised.
"Stop staring, you creep" McCabe whispered in Leah's ear, causing her to break from her trance, giving the Irish women a playful smack on the shoulder. "I'm going to the gym," she said as she stood up and headed out, everyone around her making eyes at each other.
_____
You walked into the locker room behind Jonas and as he introduced you to the team, a certain blonde's eyes connected with yours, you couldn't help but notice the small smile her lips created when she saw you, but you quickly diverted your gaze to your best friend. Walking up to her and hugging her.
"I'm glad they let you sign out of the transfer window," Stina said, sounding relieved as she released the hug, "yeah I was worried they wouldn't but once I explained to the FA what was happening they were horrified and told me they would reach out to whatever club I wanted to, within reason, and see if they would sign me. Apparently there are going to be investigations."
"Good, they shouldn't be doing that. But where are you staying? You can crash at mine until you find a place if you need."
"Thank you, but I'm all good, Moster and Tante said I could stay with them, as they are in Paris for the next however long, however it was more a non-negotiable, I think they also meant I was going to be staying when they came back, again non-negotiable, but I'll see."
You and Stina continued talking until it was time for the girls to go to their meeting. You had an appointment with one of the physios just so they could check your range of motion and get some base lines in case you were to injure yourself before your first fitness testing session. As you walked into the gym, you saw a certain blonde in the corner, working away at some exercises which must've been set for her. As you worked with the physio completing the activities and exercises he wanted you to do you couldn't help but notice the way the blonde kept glancing over to you, almost as if she wanted to talk to you.
_____
You sat down at a table with Stina and Frida, Caitlin joined you and wanted to catch up with you and also trying to help you integrate with the team more easily, Caitlin's presence meant that Katie and then consequently Beth sat with you too. You knew the Aussies already due to having spent most of your childhood and your very early twenties in Australia, due to your Tante's work.
"Steph," you called out as you saw the very flustered Aussie walk into the dinning hall, she turned her head around to you, just about every emotion passing through her face.
"Y/N?" she questioned as she walked towards you, "what are you doing here?"
"Well if you weren't late you would've been here when Jonas said I was transferring here," you weren't normally one to say anything about your teammates being late, especially new teammates, however you are Steph had been teammates a long time ago, making your senior team debut for Melbourne Victory exactly a year after she made hers, and she also had a mark on her neck, so you were waiting to see how bad her excuse was.
"Sorry yeah I slept in, Calvin was up barking most of the night. It's so nice to see you again though," she explained as she pulled you in for a hug.
"That mark of your neck would indicate otherwise," you whispered in her ear, she just groaned knowing everyone would've already seen it.
You spend the rest of the lunch talking to mainly Steph or Stina and Frida but occasionally others would make some small talk with you.
After lunch you said your goodbyes to the team, and started to make your way out, when you heard someone call out your name, you turned around to see Leah moving towards you. "Would you like to join me and some of the team for dinner tonight? We are just going to a local pub," she questioned.
"Umm," you filled the air as you hesitated not sure what the goal of her invitation was, "if you don't want to, that's totally okay, I mean you're probably busy anyway," she quickly spat out trying to backtrack.
"Oh no, I would love to, it's just that I don't currently have a car," you told her as you fiddled with the ring on your finger.
"Oh, I can drive you if you want, you can just message me your address later," you nodded and mumbled a quiet thanks before you both went your separate ways.
____
You were just about to put your shoes one when you received a message.
From Leah: I'm just out the front in the car, no rush though. I know I'm early.
To Leah: Hey, all good, I'm actually just putting my shoes on now, I'll be out in a second.
You're pretty sure Leah's eyes widened as you walked out of the house and to her car. You opened the door of her car and saw her eyes run over your body before she said "You look nice," "Oh, thank you, it's nothing," you blushed slightly climbing into the passenger seat, but in truth it was nothing. You had a pair of light blue skinny jeans on, with a cropped country road rugby jumper on. You also have a black puffer vest in case you needed it but you placed that on the floor as you got in.
"You look nice too," you said as an afterthought, almost regretting it instantly, it probably wouldn't been better to say nothing at all than say that.
"Thanks," she smiled at you softly before she began to drive.
---
It was safe to say by the end of the night you hadn't once regretted your decision to come, all the girls there were super nice and it was a really great way to get to know them all, outside of soccer.
"Um, we're about to head home and we just thought to offer to take you home, since, um," Beth gestured over to where Leah was a the bar, you couldn't help but feel a small wave of warmth travel through your body at the fact that the team already seemed to care about you.
"Oh um, yes please that would be great," you followed Beth and Viv to their car, making small talk with them on the way home, when the car pulled up outside your home you didn't miss the look the couple sent each other, you quickly hopped out and thanked the two women profusely, before walking up the stairs of your home and collapsing onto your couch, noticing a message from Stina.
From Stina: Hey, I hope the night out with the girls went well. What would you say to a movie night at yours tomorrow night? In the theatre?
To Stina: Hey yeah it went well, Beth and Viv took me home, will explain why tomorrow night at movie night in the lounge room, you can invite Frida if you want too.
From Stina: Okay. I'll be over around 5. From Stina: Wait, why the lounge room?
To Stina: See you then, I'll make pasta.
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lovelybrooke · 2 days
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As someone who is really enthusiastic about the lore of Genshin, your hsr x genshin reader has captivated me. Right now I’m mainly thinking about characters from the IPC and maybe even the Xianzhou being aware of Teyvat’s existence but having no way to interact or make contact with it because of Celestia’s false sky.
So characters like Aventurine, Topaz, and maybe even Dr Ratio since he technically works with the IPC being curious about reader since they’re currently the only look they have into what Teyvat is like.
So I finally finished Penacony and firstly, ouch. Secondly, I have a lot of thoughts.
The idea that Teyvat is on the IPC's radar but they can't come into contact with it because of Celestia is actually such a big brain thought, you should be proud of yourself.
When it comes to the IPC, it's their hob to know what is going on with each planet within the vast universe, and so to discover that there is a planet that they've never heard of, that they aren't able to make contact with in any way definitely raises suspicion. Since Celestia is obviously filled with outside forces, I don't think they would be able to tell that the false sky was made by them. Because of their inability to make contact with the planet, they keep heavy watch in case anything happens and they're able to find a way in. They probably even give Teyvat some long, scientific name since there isn't really a way to figure out what the planet is called.
When it comes to the Luofu, their knowledge of the distant planet is even less. They, like the IPC, aren't able to come in contact with it, so they choose to remain neutral until the time comes. Unlike at the IPC, where I feel as though much discussion around the planet is bureaucratic, on the Luofu talk about the planet is much more lighthearted, spreading rumors on what could be hiding on it, if there is even any life on it.
This brings me to cultural differences, we obviously know that technology wise Teyvat is lacking, they probably see wing gliders and Ruin Guards akin to a child's first invention. But there are other differences too. What happens when the IPC learns that you don't worship the Aeons, that there are gods outside of the Aeons. And this isn't just some offshoot, visions are proof that these "Archons" exist.
Many other planets don't even know you exist, I highly doubt Sunday knew about Teyvat before hearing Aventurine talk about it with Ratio. Most common people aren't really considered with what's happening outside their home planet. So I don't think many of them would really assume you were from an unknown planet until you explicitly tell them.
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seramilla · 3 days
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Can we please please pleeeeeeeeeeease have more of tour Exorcists are miscarriages and Vaggie is Carmilla’s daughter story.
Please please pretty please
Vaggie is released from Belphegor's hospital and back to the Pride ring a few days after learning about her origins from Carmilla. The arms dealer and fallen angel had spent several hours that first day coming to terms with the truth, and Vaggie had spent a lot of time grieving, processing, and realizing the life she'd always dreamed for herself was never real.
After that first day, however, the feelings were still too raw, too real, for the little angel to handle all on her own. She's coming to terms that she does, in fact, have a mother, but her previous words to Carmilla still ring true: they've known each other for little more than a month, and while Vaggie appreciates the opportunity to get to know her, and hear more about her family, and their life on Earth...it's still too soon, too early, to absorb everything at once. She needs time. She needs her girlfriend, Charlie.
Right now, she only wants the princess. She wants the familiar scent of her hair, the familiar warmth of her body, the familiar presence beside her at night that can help filter all the sadness and grief. She spends days, up in Charlie's room at Lucifer's mansion. The task of rebuilding the hotel is still at the forefront of everyone's mind, and she's feeling grateful, if not a bit guilty, for everything being put on hold, for her sake.
Charlie treats her with kid gloves; any other time, she might be annoyed by that, but right now, she craves it, longs for it, even. Charlie leaves her room only to bring her food, or help her bathe, or stand vigil outside the bathroom while she does her business. Vaggie can't remember a time when she felt this vulnerable, this weak before. Not even when she first arrived in Hell with her injuries. It's not even her body that's hurting, but primarily her spirit.
Carmilla calls daily, to check on Vaggie. Vaggie speaks with her briefly a few times, when she feels like it, to let the overlord know she's okay. But only for a few seconds or minutes at a time. She feels bad for Carmilla, but thankful that the older woman is respecting her privacy. The only human connection she wants right now is Charlie's; Charlie obliges wholeheartedly, cocooning her girlfriend in layers and layers of warm blankets, and curling herself around her at night. Even her tail wraps around the tiny angel's limbs, as if it knows instinctively that she needs more comfort.
"Are you okay, baby?" Charlie asks, constantly, and Vaggie always says, "Yes." She's honestly not sure if she is, but she doesn't want Charlie to worry. The response is on autopilot at this point. Charlie doesn't seem to mind, and only pulls her in closer, tightly against her chest. Vaggie lets out her wings, and encircles the demon princess in their warm comfort. Charlie sighs, and for a moment, Vaggie can almost forget about the world, and all the trauma she's had to endure existing in it.
She'll deal with it. She will. But right now, she just needs more time with Charlie. Before reality rears its ugly head again, and their responsibilities need to be front and center. The hotel needs to be rebuilt. More Sinners need to be saved. That's what she signed up for, and she can't keep feeling sorry for herself forever.
That will come, with time, she thinks. Right now, all that matters is Charlie. And healing both mentally and physically from her ordeal, as quickly as possible. Charlie still needs her. Carmilla probably does, too, in her own way. But she will have to wait.
Her responsibilities are mounting. There will be time to deal with everything, when she awakens again, and the world makes a little more sense. Right now, she buries herself further into Charlie's side, her strong, protective presence fueling her recovery. She allows herself to sleep one more fitful night's sleep. Just one more time, before reality has to finally sink in, and her entire world changes forever once again.
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phoenixyfriend · 2 days
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Suggested Listening: Columbia Protests (as of 4/25/24)
Alright, folks, I've seen a couple different approaches to this situation, and I think there's something to be learned from each of the below. I know some of them have a contested reputation, but all media sources have a bias and I will be including some context on those biases.
The podcasts I'm sharing are:
The Daily (New York Times)
The Take (Al Jazeera)
Democracy Now! (independent radio broadcast)
Global News Podcast (BBC Radio)
It's come up a few times on NPR as well, but not in enough detail for me to include. I will be linking Spotify, but these are all available elsewhere, though official transcripts can take several days.
The Daily - April 25th, 2024: This podcast is a production of The New York Times. The paper is left-leaning, but has a noted bias towards Israel, and has run into trouble on trans issues in the recent past. The podcast is further left, though still more cautiously moderate than something like Democracy Now; the podcast has previously been responsible for fact checks against the more biased NYT opinion pieces.*
Why you should listen to it: This episode provides the most comprehensive timeline to what has happened, in what order, and why certain actions have been taken. It is notably more sympathetic to Columbia University President Shafik than other coverage, though that may just be the natural result of explaining the current political pressures. It is still more sympathetic to the protesters than to her, but I do think this is helpful for establishing a timeline of events. It is not the only one, and I will share another below.
* That infamous article about the alleged systemic sexual violence that Hamas committed on Oct. 7th was put through a fact checker by the podcast team when it came time to do an episode about it, and the inability to substantiate it led to not only the episode being cancelled, but the article itself being (quietly) edited to note that it was not substantiated. The NYT did not handle it well, but I want to make it clear that the podcast team is independent in many respects, and while I've taken issue with some of their episodes, they often have more comprehensive coverage of certain matters.
The Take - April 25th, 2024: This is a podcast from the English-speaking branch of Al Jazeera, a Qatari news organization that, while independent, does receive a certain amount of funding from the Qatari government. By that measure, I do hesitate to place it on a left-right scale due to existing outside the Western political spectrum. As a Middle Eastern, Arab news org, Al Jazeera provides a perspective much closer to the action than others, and one that is generally much more sympathetic to Muslim and Arab voices. It is also, like the others on this list, an award-winning journal. At this time, Al Jazeera is considered one of the most reliable news sources for information on what is happening in Gaza, through their Palestinian correspondents; they have also been banned in Israel as antisemitic propaganda.
I need to make it very clear that I am not in any way denigrating it for having Qatari government funding; the BBC shares many of those factors, just British.
Why you should listen to it: Al Jazeera got a reporter into the student protest encampment in Columbia, and got more direct interviews with some of the students on the ground. This is part two of their coverage of the protests; Part One (April 24th, 2024)provides another perspective of the timeline, which focuses on different factors, generally closer to the events in Columbia than the national factors.
Democracy Now! - April 23rd, 2024: This is a far left/progressive radio broadcast (repackaged for podcast streaming) that has been running since 1996. They often have interviews with people that I haven't necessarily seen other podcasts bring in, and while I would not consider them extreme, I do sometimes find that certain details get left out in pursuit of a more black-and-white narrative.
Why you should listen to it: Cohost Juan González has been in the field of progressive journalism for a very long time, but it's more relevant than ever for this episode: González was one of the original organizers for the 1968 Columbia protests that resulted in one of the largest mass arrests in NYPD history. The 1968 protests were massive, and deeply impactful on a national scale. González's perspective on how this current protest compares to the one he helped organize nearly sixty years ago is a fascinating way to think about the current events.
Global News Podcast - April 25th, 2024: BBC is a very centrist source for journalism, funded primarily by the UK government and advertising. As such, their coverage tends to lean in favor of the current party, though they do not 'toe the party line' as such. They do regularly platform right-wing activists, but they also have correspondents in the Middle East with a more progressive perspective. I would compare them to CNN in the US; ineffective in terms of opinion, and comparatively milquetoast on that front, but capable of getting access to high-level events that smaller networks aren't.
Why you should listen to it: ...honestly, this is just a 'round it out' kind of suggestion, to get an idea of what the international community is thinking of the events at Columbia. I don't think they necessarily contribute much in terms of factual discovery, but it helps with getting the lay of the land.
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max1461 · 17 hours
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Most real numbers are not arithmetically definable. This means, more or less, that there is no statement in the first-order language of arithmetic which is capable of uniquely identifying such a number. There are a countable number of arithmetically definable reals and an uncountable number of reals overall. A number is analytical if it is definable by a formula in the second-order language of arithmetic. Again, almost all reals are not analytical, because there are only a countable number of second-order arithmetic formulas. Likewise, most real numbers are not definable in the language of ZFC.
Humans and human minds are finite (or finitistic) things; presumably most real numbers are not "humanly definable", or perhaps even "physically definable". It may be the case that most real numbers cannot be individually picked out, named, or specifically described in any way given the constraints of the physical world. This does not mean that nothing can be said about them: we can still confidently conclude that an undefinable number greater than 6 is also greater than 3. Roughly, they can only be spoken about in generalities, with statements that apply to infinitely many of them at once. It is impossibly to even conceptualize any one of them specifically.
I am puzzling over two things right now:
Are there truths which are true of individual undefinable reals? These truths could never be stated or even thought, and almost by definition they could not have any bearing on the real world, but are they "there"? It seems like there should be unique truths about undefinable reals; for any undefinable real r, surely x=r (free in x) is uniquely true for r. But maybe this is a cheat, maybe there is no well-defined predicate "x=r" for undefinable real r. If you do believe there is such a predicate, I am tempted to ask: what does it mean? Of course by definition no answer can even in principle be formulated.
Do undefinable reals even have independent existence? I mean, in set theory they arguably don't: for undefinable real r and s, the statement "r ≠ s" does not correspond to any valid sentence in the language of ZFC. We know "from the outside" that they are distinct, but... do we? We can say tautologically "distinct undefinable reals are distinct", but surely general truths should in some way just be families of specific truths. Like "all dogs are smaller than the moon" is true because each dog individually is smaller than the moon. But we cannot individually say that any two undefinable reals are different from each other, or in fact individually say anything about them.
All this assumes that the universe, or at least human experience, is in some sense "finitistic" and therefore that most reals are in fact undefinable to us.
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whamss · 3 months
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"Making Rosemary tea drinking lesbians is bad" says Internet User, but not because it strips them of their characterization and turns them into carbon copies of each other, destined to sit in the background while other characters (men) have character arcs around them, but because they aren't Silly Enough. No no, we don't need to flesh them out, we just need to turn them from Wise Lesbian Couple to Comedic Relief. This will fix everything wrong with fandom depictions of them. *Wipes sweat from forehead* Woo! Being a feminist is so tough!
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ignatiusteto · 5 months
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i think people should stop thinking in stark black and white and stop taking things violently at face value and maybe society would be a little better. or at least stop making it the problem of other people. it really is a great brain exercise to stop and be like well okay wait a minute. you literally feel better.
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lvllns · 1 year
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there’s something very comforting in going from talking on skype until three in the morning almost every day to reaching out once every few months and yet. it feels like nothing has changed.
#reed.txt#i feel like we could catch right up where we left off and it'd be fine#one of my best friends in the world who i've never even met in person and it's been like. thirteen years.#i dunno it's just like. people exist outside of you.#shit happens and sometimes people you thought were going to be a daily staple become. not that.#you can keep in touch and talk and update each other and it's. i dunno. sometimes people are meant to leave#and open that space for someone else who fits better. who. who settles you and makes you feel comfortable and at ease.#it's just. the knowledge that things change but the cores of humans remain (mostly) the same#i know if i asked her for advice she'd happily give it (because i did this a couple months ago)#and she sends me horse things saying 'this made me think of you' and i don't know!!#everything is okay!!! everything is going to be okay!!! that's the WHOLE POINT#the sun rises and sets and the earth spins and it will be cloudy and rain but there will be sunshine and clear skies#and there will be nights so ink black you can't see and they feel suffocating#and there will be nights so lit up by the moon and stars you have to shield your eyes#some people are meant to be cyclical in your life#they are meant to ebb and flow like tides#and sometimes if you're lucky you find a person or maybe a few#who become a forest of trees#stalwart and tall and you can sink to your knees and know that they will remain#you have people that shift and warp and people that never once flicker#i dunno i dunno i'm spewing out words but i just. not everyone you meet is going to be a constant is the poinst#*point#but when you find someone who is a tree or a lighthouse or. or.#or someone who makes you feel so SAFE you can't take it you have to keep them close#the amount of people i've met and been 'i want you in my life forever' is very few. my forest is small. but it is made up of people#who bring me so much inner peace and who i love so very much
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When I was making my first trying-to-be-serious ocs it was in the start of the 2010s (and I mean the START, 2010-2012) and there was a big “anti Mary-sue” movement on deviantart (the website I spent half my internet time on and was posting my art on) and I liked to make my character designs pretty extra (although compared to modern stuff they look pretty normal) so I started to get self-conscious. At the time though I was watching soul eater (and there was another thing I’m forgetting and it’s really frustrating me) and I saw that I was popular with a cool art style and the characters were extra AF, so I was like “okay. Maybe, as long as I can draw my character often and consistently it doesn’t matter if they are wild!” and you know what? Early teen me was RIGHT. Not about many things, but about this in particular she was!
#emma posts#girl was relying too heavily on character tropes and some stuff of that era#but she was so right about character design#if maybe using a few too many colors for each one#now people are just being wild with it and it fucking works#two examples I can think of in modern popular animation are mha/bnha and hazbin hotel (still haven’t watched that one)#but damn if those characters don’t look like some of my favorite early teen creations#and the artist made it WORK#i don’t think I’ve gone quite as wild as bnha but you know what? one of my old worlds still could#I’m sentimental about that one and even if I’ve been stuck I’m still taking that one with me forever#other projects might come and go. but (project currently named absolution) is constant#as well as its main cast. I’ve been learning a bit more about some of the mythologies I used as inspiration and it’s been giving a lot of#ideas for how I can develop things. it has not solved a few hang ups though#the biggest one being what was the divide about and how was it defined?’#it’s been made more gray as I learn more about mythology and folklore#the Christian aspects of it can be a bit clear. but others have more gray areas and i like it but it also makes things a bit frustrating#interestingly enough. flight rising having so many different species on one world has given me some ideas#I am a bit reluctant to use too much from outside certain cultures though. which can appear a bit biased and probably is. but I don’t want#to mess up something you can’t really change about a creature from a culture in less familiar with. it would be a dick move#but yeah. if death the kid can exist my weirdos can as well
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you're aspiring quote of the day (that's actually from our drumline show and considering the world rn actually resonates differently to me now than it did before)
"Imagine a world where we are all enlightened by objective truths, rather than offended by them."
If there is an actual source to this quote I do not know it and please lmk if you have the source
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mylordshesacactus · 2 years
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So my family has a Gay Pirate Plate.
Stay with me.
We do not know how the hell the Gay Pirate Plate was first acquired. This being a point of contention is actually pretty plot-relevant; the saga of the Gay Pirate Plate began with my grandmother and her sister, who, for some ungodly reason, both BADLY wanted the Gay Pirate Plate and believed it to be rightfully theirs.
I should back up, firstly, to establish: The Gay Pirate Plate is the cheapest, tackiest, ugliest plate in existence.
It is in no way a collector’s item. It is physically impossible for it to complement anyone’s decor, because the colors in it are garish. It’s just a ceramic plate with a gay pirate painted on it, and the painting is, this cannot be emphasized enough, extremely bad.
(How do we know the pirate is gay if he’s just posing on a plate? Listen. Fully 100% to stereotype, but he is. He is gay. There’s an energy. That pirate is a flaming homosexual. That pirate has sex with men and does it frequently. That pirate is fucking gay, all right, he just is.)
Anyway. The point is that this is an extremely cheap and ugly plate with a poorly-executed painting of pirate on it who is like a nine on the Kinsey scale.
My grandmother and her sister fought a blood feud over this plate for their entire lives. It would be on the wall in my grandma’s house, and then her sister would visit, and then it would be gone. She’d visit her sister and the plate would be on the wall and her sister would pretend it had always been there. She would steal it back, hang it up, and, when her sister visited, pretend it had always been there. This continued for DECADES.
When the sister died, the Gay Pirate Plate lived triumphantly in my grandmother’s house. And then my grandmother died. And my aunt, who had lived with her and been her carer throughout her life, rightfully inherited their house.
We visit my aunt after the funeral and stay with her for a week or two.
Me, my sister, and our dad. Her brother.
The three of us look at each other. We don’t say anything. We studiously avoid making eye contact with the Gay Pirate Plate mounted proud and ugly on the wall. We notice one another studiously avoiding looking at it. We notice one another noticing. We say nothing. We come to a silent consensus. We pack up to leave. We get in the van. Our aunt comes out to say goodbye. I loudly announce I need to use the restroom before we leave. She obviously stays outside to continue talking to my dad.
I take down the Gay Pirate Plate, stuff it under my oversized sweatshirt, go outside, and get in the van. She happily waves goodbye as we drive off.
Two days later my dad gets a phone call that opens with hysterical laughter and “You FUCKING ASSHOLE did you seriously STEAL THE PLATE--”
Anyway. The gay pirate plate lives in my dad’s house currently.
But he’s trying to get me and my sister out to visit him. And plate mounts are cheap.
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strawhbrrries · 6 months
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Movement
pairing: mike schmidt x afab!reader
summary: a double date that leads to mike schmidt coming home with you in the name of "helping your friend" and he ends up fucking you.
warnings: unprotected sex, no foreplay, creampie??, female pronouns, slight degrading??, pet names, heavy cussing, mike being hashtag v hot, no established relationship, porn with no plot, not proofread
word count: 2.1k words
author’s note: listen to movement by hozier for the full experience!!! I know this fic wasn't voted to be the first mike one to be posted but I had to do it okay!!!! he's so hot n sexy in this and i need him badly...please enjoy! mwah!
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Your eyes scanned the restaurant in front of your car, you were promised a very nice dinner with a very nice man and the place you ended up might as well have been a denny’s. Gia somehow managed to rope you into a double date and as the amazing friend you are, you obliged. Now, you wanted to take it back. If the guy you were set up with wasn’t just an absolute heartthrob you might consider strangling her in the bathroom.
“Gia, this better be the best damn food and the hottest men you have ever experienced or I’m never doing you another favor ever again.” You teased, getting out of your car as she walked up to it.
“I swear he said this place was nicer! Thank you so much babes, I owe you one!” She responded, slipping her arm inside of yours to walk inside. “Maybe the inside is really nice and it’s just a shady exterior.”
You’d never seen the man Gia was seeing tonight so when the two of you arrived at the table you weren’t sure which man was yours, but you knew which one you wanted. He looked gentle, shaggy hair untamed almost like he wasn’t prepared to go on a date tonight. 
“I suppose I’m your date.” He smiled softly, getting up to pull your chair out for you. “I’m MIke, you look uh, really beautiful tonight.”
After the introductions and small talk the two of you hit it off right away, it helped that Gia and her date were more interested in each other than remembering that the people they brought also existed.  The more you talked the more Mike came out of his shell, he wasn’t as shy as you first pegged him to be. Your heel was slowly caressing his calf, neither of you were quite sure when it had ended up there but he wasn’t complaining.
“A man in uniform is hot.” Your flirting was a little rusty, but it seemed to be working just fine for you.
“It’s just a security gig.” He shrugged it off, maintaining eye contact with you the whole time. 
You grabbed the straw of your drink, wrapped your tongue around it, and took a sip. Mike choked slightly but covered it up with a cough, adjusting his pants under the table at the same time. 
“She’s not going to go home with him unless I go home with you.” You whispered in his ear as you leaned over the table, tangling your fingers in his hair to trick Gia into thinking you were whispering something dirty. “I’d really like to go home with you.”
You could feel the heat creep up his neck, his face was flushed. His heart might as well be on the outside of his chest with the intensity that it was beating, it’d been a long time since he’d been on a date or even gotten laid but Abby was at home and that just wouldn’t work.
“Uhm, my sister’s at home, can we go to your place?” Mike’s saliva was thick and pooling in his mouth, it felt almost impossible to swallow. He had to be dreaming, this just didn’t make sense otherwise. He was just doing his friend a favor and now your breath was hot on his neck and his jeans were uncomfortably tight.
The second the two of you walked outside he got fidgety, like he was going to take off the second you let go of his hand. Frankly he was surprised you hadn’t let go of it the second you picked it up, he was dripping sweat from the moment he realized you were his date. He quickly made a mental note to send a letter to the company who made his preferred deodorant, the fact that he didn’t smell absolutely putrid spoke volumes on their product.
“So did you mean what you said inside? Because I’m perfectly okay with just going home.” 
“I meant it, don’t be so nervous.” You smiled back at him, handing him the keys to your car.
The tension was thick, his knuckles were white as he tried to keep his focus on the road ahead and making it back to your place safely and not the fingers drawing figures on his thigh as you spoke about something he couldn’t quite grasp. 
Your place wasn’t too far from the restaurant that Gia’s date had picked, that Mike was thankful for. The longer he had to endure the torture that was your fingers on this thighs, the less his ability to be a gentleman and control himself existed. If it was up to him, he’d probably just pulled over and fucked you in the backseat of your own car but it wasn’t. He was a gentleman, he’d just met you all of a few hours ago, he knew better.
“This is the place.” You smiled softly as he pulled into your driveway.
“It’s nice.” He stated, handing your car keys back to you and taking your hand. “Suits you.”
Mike’s eyes wandered the walls, taking in every aspect of you, as you led him through the house. It didn’t take him long to notice that you lived alone, another thing he was now thankful for. His fingers trailed the zipper of your dress as he stood behind you in your bedroom, his other hand rubbing your arm and leaving goosebumps in its wake. 
“Are you going to take it off?” Your voice was shaky and quiet, for the first time tonight you were nervous. 
“And you thought I was the eager one.” He chuckled, tugging your hair back softly to give him just enough access to your face to make eye contact with you. “Do you get off on bringing strangers to your home and having them fuck you?”
A soft whimper escaped your lips, blessing the ears of the man behind you who responded with a groan. His lips made contact with your neck, biting and sucking at any of the skin he had access to. The hand that was holding your hair back made itself busy drawing the zipper of your dress further and further down until it couldn’t go any further, you shivered as the cold air hit your back. 
Mike detached himself from your neck and took a step back, briefly admiring how disheveled you looked despite still being fully dressed, he made a quick motion for you to turn around and you obliged almost immediately. If you got his dick any harder it might’ve fallen off before he ever got the chance to use it. 
He backed you into the bed, laying you down and sliding your dress off and into a pile on the floor. Another deep groan was emitted into the air as he took in the sight in front of him, you hadn’t worn a bra and the underwear you’d chosen left nothing to the imagination. Mike immediately started thanking whatever god was above for you and the experience he was about to have. 
Your heart was pounding out of your chest. Truthfully, you hadn’t planned on sleeping with anyone tonight but then you saw him and your entire plan was flipped upside down. You lied about your friend not going home with her date if you didn’t leave with him, you didn’t want him to think you were desperate but he knew now. The second he touched the zipper of your dress, anything left of your facade was gone. You needed him.
“If you weren’t so fucking wet I would’ve thought you were only doing me a favor.” He spoke nonchalantly, rubbing his finger over your folds through your underwear. “ Or maybe you’re just a whore? Huh?”
“For you.” You choked out, words getting caught in your throat over his words. 
At the beginning of the night you would’ve placed money on the fact that he wasn’t capable of things like this, it was like another side of him had come out during the drive to your house. You weren’t complaining, his words were getting to you in a way you’d never experienced. 
“Yeah? For me? Mikey’s own personal whore.” He slipped your underwear to the side and slid his finger through your folds, collecting your juices and bringing them to his mouth. “You’re as sweet as you look, need a honey jar full of you.”
You cried out at him softly, trying to use anything you had to stop his teasing. He was winding you up but edging you right before you could pop, he could’ve said anything and you would’ve agreed just to get him to fuck you. Being this desperate for a man you hardly knew was an exhilarating experience. 
“Please, I need you.” You whined, grabbing at his shirt in a desperate plea. “Please.”
“Good job using your words, pretty girl.” Mike praised, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your underwear and pulling them down, throwing them in the same pile as your dress.
His clothes soon joined yours on the floor, a small pout emerging when you realized you wouldn’t be able to suck him off, his eyes catching yours as he climbed up your body. He kissed his way up, biting occasionally. Fingers tracing your skin just as you had done to him earlier in the night, lighting a fire on your skin as they went. It was like his body was made to fit yours, like your souls had searched for each other through every lifetime and yet this was the first time they had met.
His lips finally met yours for the first time, teeth nipping at your bottom lip as he pulled away to breathily whisper something in your ear. You shook your head in agreement at whatever he said, as long as he kept touching you like that and making noises in your ear you’d agree to anything he said to you. 
Shaking your head yes was the best decision you’d made so far, you felt two fingers slip inside of you. Thrusting for a few moments before they were replaced by the tip of his cock, slowly pushing in as his mouth found one of your nipples. The gentle man you had once perceived had been replaced by a god who was hung like a horse, splitting you in half with the cock fit for a god.
“Fuck.” Mike moaned, tipping his head back when he bottomed out, taking your legs and placing them on his shoulders. “So good, pretty girl.”
Anything you had planned on responding with quickly dissipated the second he pulled out and thrusted back in, a low groan coming out insead. His fingers were digging into your thighs as he held them up where he wanted them, all you could hope for was the imprints bruising as a reminder that this actually happened. What hair that wasn’t sticking to his skin from the sweat covering it was dangling backwards freely, all his focus was on not cumming too soon and if he continued to look at you he definitely would.
Your eyes had glossed over a long time ago, tears streaming down the sides as a byproduct of the blissful state his cock had put you in, fingers gripping desperately at the sheets and your tits bouncing with each thrust. He was once again praying to every god that he would get to do this another time, then he could sear the image of you under him into his mind.
“Mike, Mikey I need..” You whined, the knot in your stomach twisting and turning, threatening to spill before you could even finish a coherent thought.
“C’mon pretty girl, you can do it, let it go.” He praised you, bringing his thumb down to your clit and drawing figure eights in time with his thrusts to help your orgasm spill over.
His words were the final piece in the puzzle, your orgasm hitting you soon after he spoke. Legs shaking, mind blowing, tears, and silent moans was all your body could do at the supernova your orgasm had proved to be. You’d never cum this hard before but if every orgasm after didn’t measure up, he had ruined you. 
“You did so good.” Was all you heard as you came down from your high, Mike’s hands soothed down your hair as he whispered into your ear. 
His thrusts continued at the same pace for only a few seconds before his hips stuttered and he painted your insides white. 
“I guess tonight wasn’t a total waste.” You joked quietly, turning to the side to smile at him as he laid down next to you. 
“We need to do this more often.”
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delulujuls · 4 months
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thick thighs save lives (but ruin racing suits) | ln4, op81
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hi! i got this idea from one tiktok i saw today. this one goes for my plus size girlies (including myself lmao) so please enjoy as much as papaya boys would enjoy some pair of thick thighs!
summary: lando and oscar never seen their friend with something tight on, so when it comes to try on new racing suits she have a big surprise for them
warnings: slightly disturbed perception of body image
pairing: oscar piastri x fem!mclarendriver x lando norris
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Y/N sometimes forgot that she was a girl.
At the beginning of her career she tried to make an effort to look good, showing that a male-dominated sport wouldn't take away her feminine grace. Years ago she used to wake up early, style her hair, do makeup and spend a lot of money on fixing cosmetics but unfortunately everything was lost due to sweat, a balaclava and a tight helmet. So the girl decided that this fight made absolutely no sense - she decided to stuck only to lip balm and mascara.
Despite keeping her makeup to a minimum, even her mascara remained treacherous, smearing under her eyes after each race or training session, making her look like a panda. In terms of clothes, the girl didn't have much opportunity to show off either. Her clothes were largely either team tracksuits, a racing suit, or just a baggy orange T-shirt and jeans.
And just as Oscar and Lando looked great after the race despite sweat and messy hair, her post-race glow didn't really existed. On the contrary, she looked as if she had a hard, sleepless night.
It is known that when media days fell on the calendar, the girl tried to look her best. She had light make-up and nicely styled hair, but her body was still covered by loose layers of clothes. It would seem that apart from her physiotherapist and the team doctor, no one around her had any idea what kind of figure the girl really had.
However, everything changed when the break between seasons came. When places had numerous galas and events and you could throw away uncomfortable helmets and team clothes. However, as we know, everything comes to an end at some point and we have to return to the gray reality. This was the case, when the day came and it was time to try on new racing suits for the upcoming season.
Y/N hugged Lando and Oscar upon seeing them outside the entrance to McLaren's headquarters. The trio hadn't had the opportunity to see each other for several weeks, so there was a lot of joy. In a good mood, surrounded by conversation, they went inside and immediately went to the designated place. After a short presentation of costumes, everyone received theirs and went to change, only to come back after a while and report any reservations regarding comfort and range of movement. Y/N took her suit without thinking and went to change. She was surprised when the suit got stuck on her butt and refused to go up any higher.
"What the hell"
The girl muttered under her breath, gripping her fit tighter and jumping in it several times. When it finally slid over her ass, Y/N slipped her hands into the sleeves and zipped up the zipper, sealing the Velcro around her neck. Something was definitely wrong. The girl looked in the mirror at her reflection. The outfit was great and looked amazing, the only problem was that it was a bit tight. Which shouldn't be the case, because the outfits were based on last season's, so the dimensions shouldn't differ drastically. It was impossible to gain so much weight in three months, right?
The girl turned around, looking at the back of her body. The outfit was definitely tight. Just as it was still relatively tight on her chest, it was very tight on her thighs and butt.
Y/N covered her mouth with her hand, looking at her reflection. Have she really always had such big thighs? Did she actually gain weight during the past break?
She was brought out of her thoughts by a knock on the bathroom and the voices of Lando and Oscar outside the door.
"Are you ready?"
The girl felt her cheeks burning with shame.
"I think I have a problem"
Hearing this, the friends fell silent and looked at each other.
"Can we come in?"
Y/N agreed quietly, still staring at herself in the mirror. With each passing second, she became more and more confused about her reflection.
Oscar and Lando entered the bathroom, also wearing their suits. When they noticed their friend standing with her back to them, the first thing they noticed was her butt. Lando quickly looked up at the ceiling and Oscar walked over to the girl, trying his hardest to focus on the reflection of her face in the mirror.
"What happened?"
Y/N bit her lip in shame and silently turned towards them. Her friends involuntarily looked at her, pretending they didn't know what she meant. But as soon as they saw the material tight around her ass from the entrance to the bathroom, they knew exactly what the matter was about.
"My suit is too tight" The girl said quietly, looking at herself "It doesn't fit at all"
Lando wrapped his arms around himself and covered his mouth with his hand. He tried his hardest not to speak, because all he could think about were comments about her thighs and whether she could crush him with them. It didn't get much easier for Oscar. He put his hands on his hips and looked at his friend silently. He was afraid that he would be unable to comfort her in any way, because his mind was completely blank.
Piastri cleared his throat after a while, trying to return from the land of fantasy and behave as if the whole situation was really dramatic.
"Is it very tight?"
"Oh, just look!"
The girl spread her arms and spun around. Lando bit his lip and tilted his head back. Oscar held his breath, having no idea what to say. He was totally mesmerized by her curves.
"I- Uhm, I think it's just a mistake and they'll make you a different one without any problem."
"Different one?" Y/N asked, feeling tears in her eyes. “What if it's not a mistake and I've gained weight these past few months?”
"After all, the tests showed that everything was fine with your measurements."
Oscar said calmly.
Y/N turned to the mirror again and looked at her reflection.
"What a total shit"
"Hey, don't say that" Lando was immediately outraged "You look great"
"Great?" The girl snorted, "Come on, I look ridiculous."
"To be honest, I agree with Lando one hundred percent."
Oscar replied, looking once more at the back of the girl's body.
"My thighs are a disaster! What kind of racing driver has such big thighs?"
The girl burst out, turning again towards them.
"Max has nice thighs," Lando pointed out, thinking for a moment, "I'm sure his thighs are the national pride of the Netherlands."
Y/N wasn't in the mood to joke. Devastated, she looked down her body.
Oscar walked up to her and hugged her without saying a word.
"You look beautiful. And you have a really amazing figure"
Lando walked over to his friends and hugged them as well.
The girl felt a little better with the support of her friends. However, for a moment she forgot that men would be men and nothing would ever dissuade them from having dirty thoughts.
"I agree with Oscar, because you really look great," Lando started. Oscar looked at him, knowing full well what was coming and knowing that he wouldn't be able to stop it. "But with all the respect I have for you as a friend and as a woman in general, holy shit, I would pay extra for you to strangle me with your thighs. And man, that mad bunda, too."
Y/N didn't know what to say for a moment. She only felt a blush creeping onto her cheeks. Did she just receive the strangest compliment of her life?
She freed herself a little from her friends' embrace and looked at Lando's face.
"Seriously?"
He seeing that his comment was not received negatively, quickly nodded.
"You have such a body that-" "Lando meant that you shouldn't worry about what you look like because you look really great."
Oscar interjected, knowing full well that Lando's comments should be kept to himself.
The girl smiled weakly and sniffled. Her friends' words lifted her spirits a bit.
"My only concern now is how I will get this contraption off of me."
Lando and Oscar smirked, involuntarily exchanging glances.
"I think we can help you with that."
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vanderilnde · 3 months
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I don't know how much it fits but, keeping with the theme of butcher!simon's neighborhood being a bit dangerous:
where I grew up (rough neighborhood) there were often bars/pubs and even gas stations nearby that operated all afternoon/night and guys often congregated outside smoking cigarettes and what not. they never bothered the residents, but they damn well worked as guard dogs and warded off strangers.
so... idea: simon and his buddies hanging out outside the corner pub when reader is coming/going to her second job in the weekends, watching closely to make sure she makes it from the bus/train stop to the building door, especially after dark.
OR
alternatively!! simon who stays up and checks out of his window when reader is coming home after dark and doesn't let himself go to sleep until he hears her door unlocking and her making some type of sound (like closing her rickety door or whatever).
i dont think you understand….. reading this altered my brain so viscerally. guard dog simon. yeah.
-
“Still got yer balls in her purse?”
Simon lights his cigarette. The soft smoulder of it barely offsets the flickering streetlight above them, scarcely illuminates the sidewalk. It shines over his face, hanging from the threshold of his lips.
“Yup,” he hums. “Right where I want ‘em.”
Johnny cackles through the plume of smoke curling up and out of his lips. He pats Simon on the back, taking a long drag of his cig, and bumps his shoulder with Kyle’s.
“When’d’ya reckon he’ll let us meet the Bird?”
Kyle rolls his eyes. “When he finds someone to pay.”
“Put a sock in it,” Simon snarls. Taps the ash off his cig. 
Photo is a generous word for it. But it was the only thing Simon had to testify to your existence. A blurry, smudgy picture taken on his phone. Half-eclipsed by his thumb which was accidentally in the corner of his camera. A picture of you leaving the lift—a shallow angle of you walking in some leggings, returning from work. 
It was privy to Simon. A likeness to indulge in during his work days. But in a flitting moment, Johnny laid his eyes on it. Read him to filth for it.
And now, they’re here. 
Off-white sheets of rain running off the canopy they’re situated under. Each holding a cigarette to their lips, resting against the wet brick of a hole-in-the-wall pub. The warm hum from inside pooling into the empty streets of Manchester.
A thin sound arises from it. The chime of a shopkeeper’s bell, signifying the door is being opened. Into the diving rain, you step out, clutching a backpack against your shoulder, your uniform sticking to your skin.
It’s a heavy mass of muscle you almost run into. You stop yourself with a hand split against their chest, against the fleetly rise-and-fall of their jacket.
You have to hoist your neck up to see him. It takes you a while to reorient yourself, to recognise the depthless copper of his eyes. And it takes you even longer to register the underside of his face. Bare, flooded under the soft light of streetlights. 
“Simon!” You squeak. The succession of his heartbeat pumping under your palm. Two men hovering behind him, exchanging puckish smirks. “What are you doing here?”
Simon’s eyebrows purse like he’s confused. He tilts his head, looking at you like a puppy, and shrugs. “I’m here to pick you up.”
“Pick me up–” a chord of bemusement strikes you, collapsing your sentence. Your reservations catch up to you, hitting you like bricks. “Pick me up?”
Simon grunts. His eyes flicker down to your skirt, how it flurries in the wind, and pulls you beneath the awning. 
“Getting y’rself all wet under there,” he grumbles. “Brought you this.”
Simon holds up an umbrella. He waits for you to take it before splaying his big hand on the hind of your spine and turning you around, shepherding you forward.
Your voice is warped with bashfulness when you speak. “Where’re we going?”
“Home,” he says. Three pairs of footfall tread on your heels. Each one more intimidating than the other. Sticky and wet as they trail behind you.
“Just keep walking, Trouble,” Simon mumbles. “‘m here.”
It’s a shield that keeps everyone away. The invasive eyes, the creeping men that usually accompany you on your walk home after work. But today, they’re silent. 
The three men are a pack of dogs behind you. 
Simon, kissing the ground before you walk on it.
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notjustjavierpena · 4 months
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Panties
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A/N: Well look who are back. I didn’t think dbf!joel still existed in my brain but it seems that he is actually thriving. A little treat for you all while I polish some hubby stuff. This one absolutely goes out to @sugadolly 💖💅🫶
Summary: You show off your cute little underwear. Joel wants to fuck you but you want to try something else.
Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader/You (No y/n)
Tags: +18 smut, dbf!joel, age gap, daddy kink, dirty talk, praise kink, pet names, reader is a good little girl, outside sex (idk what is to call it), clit stim, overstim, reader is cockdrunk af, they’re actually very much in love for real, cum!!!!
Word count: 2.2k
Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52857010
Panties
“Lemme see them,” Joel says with a gentle tone as he admires you only in your jeans. He is hovering above you, kisses your lips a few times, and cups your tits as he slips his tongue into your mouth for a brief moment. 
You wrap your arms around his neck, feeling his chest against your breasts as you embrace each other. You giggle softly, “They’re silly, Daddy.”
“Never thought in a million years that my baby would be silly,” he says with obvious sarcasm, nudging your nose with his own, “Show Daddy your pretty little panties. I’m gonna see ‘em eventually.”
You remove yourself from him to step back. You roll your eyes, and he raises a brow but then you follow through. 
“Fine,” you tut as you lie down on his bed. His eyes lock on your buttoned jeans, his mouth slightly agape as he breathes deeply with anticipation hanging in the air. 
You undo your jeans and pull down the zipper, wiggling your hips as you pull the denim down over them, and into view comes your pink cotton briefs. They’re cute, not silly, but you already know this, sporting a little bow on the front and a pattern of chibi-style cats.
“Well?” You kick off your jeans, throwing them onto the floor.
Joel kneels on the bed, admiring them thoroughly, “Pussy panties?”
You snort, covering your mouth and nose as you do, “Shut up.”
“Am I wrong, baby?” He crawls closer to you, lifts your legs up to bend them, and spreads them until his thighs hit the back of yours. He reaches up to peel his shirt off and throws it into your arms so you can hug it close and get drunk on his scent. 
“No,” you say as you contemplate crawling into the piece of clothing that he has given you. God, you want him everywhere on you. That masculine smell has you wet in moments.
“Makes ya look real pretty, lovebug,” he compliments, just about to peel the underwear off of you. He stops himself as you scrunch your nose up at the new pet name.
Joel laughs heartily, “Don’t like it?”
“Say it again,” you grin up at him.
“Love. Bug,” he repeats, yanks one of your legs at a time over his hips. 
“Hmm,” you tap your chin, “Maybe you should call me it as I come, just to make me associate it with something nice.”
“Cheeky,” he says as he pulls down his own underwear. They are in no way as thrilling as yours; black briefs that can barely contain his hard cock and with a little logo on the waistband. He settles them around his thighs, and whilst he does, you reach down to pull your colorful panties to the side.
“Joel?” You say his name. He makes a movement as if his ears have perked up at hearing his actual name.
“What is it?” He asks, rubbing your legs soothingly. His eyes are locked on your cunt.
“When— when you’re,” you trail off, suddenly shy, “Uh, when you…”
“Yes?” He drags the word out, looks up. 
“I want you to come on them,” your heart beats in your chest and ears but out of the corner of your eyes, you spot Joel’s cock twitching in the air upon hearing those words.
“Was that so hard to ask for?” He digs his thumbs into your thighs, causing you to squirm underneath him, “You just lie back and let Daddy treat ya right.”
You wait in anticipation. And then, oh.
Ohh.
“Ah,” you mewl, looking down between you to see what he is doing. The thick head of his cock lays heavily against your clit, and when you tell him how good it feels, he holds the base of his shaft and slaps the tip against the small nub a few times. 
You shudder, clenching around nothing and flexing your thighs as you shift a little. Joel’s cock hangs between his legs again, and his hands slide down to rest on your hips, thumbs reaching inwards to spread you open and watch your pulsing cunt. 
“You want me to make you feel good, baby? Make you come so hard that your little clit won’t stop twitchin’ until you get all teary-eyed?” He reaches for your clit to circle it with the pad of his thumb, and you can feel slick drip down between your ass cheeks. You moan helplessly and nod repeatedly, already heaving for breath, and Joel beams with pride, “Already cockdrunk? My my. I haven’t even fucked ya yet.”
“I don’t want you to f— I don’t want that,” you say suddenly, surprising even yourself. You reach down for Joel’s cock, pulling it against your cunt but not dipping the head into you. Instead, you rub him against your clit, “This, Daddy, I want to come like this.”
“I can make that happen,” he reassures, batting your hand away to replace it and grabbing at the base of his cock himself. He resumes what you were doing, dipping the head down to catch some of your wetness before adding pressure to your clit. He slides back and forth a few times, “Like that?”
“Mhm,” you hum softly, furrowing your brow in concentration. You hold still to let him rub his whole length through your folds until he is sticky with your arousal. His left hand is still grabbing your hip, and he uses it for leverage as he leans a little weight into you. 
When he grows impatient after a few minutes of you crying quietly for him, he tries to enter you. You catch his wrist and shake your head, “No! No… you promised.”
“I did no such thing,” he clicks his tongue at you. 
You pout up at him, “But…”
“Oh, don’t make that face,” he groans,  “You know I can’t do anythin’ when you make that face.”
“Please,” you beg, “I’ll come so hard for you.”
“Yeah?” He smiles down at you.
“Yeah,” you blink your eyes prettily, “This feels so good. I’ll cream all over your cock, Daddy.”
“Now how can I say no to that?” He moves a little before guiding his cockhead back to where you want it. He rubs the blunt head in circles over your clit for a moment, slaps it against the sensitive spot too, until you can hear the squelching sound of your wetness coating you. It makes him glide over your cunt easier. 
You curl your toes and bite your lip as you look down at what he is doing, “Ahh… Keep going.”
He does, building up a rhythm that has you whining pathetically. This shouldn’t be that intense but it is, making your pussy flutter and seek out more. 
“Let me try something,” you say, and he stops as you reach down, “One second.”
With both hands, you take hold of the seam of the leg of your underwear, holding tightly at the very top of it and the very bottom. You yank it down to sit tightly over the girth of Joel’s cock, essentially trapping it underneath your panties so it drags along the shaft with each of his thrusts. He sits so tightly against you now. 
“Try now,” you don’t even have to say please for Joel to know you are begging. 
“Jesus Christ,” he growls at the new sensation, spurred on to make himself feel it even more. He fucks himself against you with a sudden quickened breath. 
The bed starts shaking. You start trembling. 
You’re not able to take your eyes off of your sinful act, chewing on your bottom lip as he works his cock back and forth over and over again underneath the seam of your panties. 
“Please,” your sound is weak, “Fuck!”
“Careful with that,” he scolds, “Eyes on me.”
You quickly look up at his face, barely able to focus with how much he shakes your whole frame with every push of his lower body. 
“Say sorry,” he commands, referring to your use of a swear word. He doesn’t relent one bit, rolling his hips again and again. 
“S-sorry,” you apologize, too focused on how your orgasm is already approaching, “Please.”
“Hold on,” he slows down, and you nearly sob with how close you are, but he only does it to remove his shirt and uncover your chest again. Then he goes back to his frantic thrusts, eyes fixated on the way that your tits bounce with every push of his hips. 
“‘M close, Daddy,” you hiccup, feeling your heartbeat in all parts of your body. You throw your head back and groan loudly at the head of the bed, “I’m so close.”
If you weren’t holding onto your underwear, you would be clutching the bed frame so hard that your knuckles were white. Instead, the fabric is pulled so taut by your fingers that it hurts when it digs into your skin. You probably don’t have to do it so roughly but the pleasure racking up your spine makes you need it.
“Don’t hold back, baby,” he encourages with ragged breathing. Confident that you won’t let go as you orgasm, he lets go of himself and grabs both of your hips. He hoists you up a little, leans forward a little further, and then drives his hips back and forth, cockhead sliding over your clit repeatedly. 
“I’m gonna— Oh my God, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come,” you say it like you’re almost in a panic, almost too overwhelmed to embrace the intensity you’re about to experience. You want to push him away and pull him in at the same time but he holds you so roughly in place that you just have to take it. Your eyes find his as you let it happen, “I’m coming! Daddy, oh f— I’m coming!”
“Yeah? My love bug’s coming?” He nods as encouragement, “Come for me, darlin’ baby.”
And my God, you do. You can feel your whole pelvic floor erupt into beautiful spasms of pleasure, your clit pulsing so fast and strongly that you are sure that Joel can feel it against his dick. You thank God that he is holding onto you because you are twitching and moving involuntarily as he continues his sweet torment, and tears stream down your face. 
“That’s it, baby doll, you just cry all ya want,” Joel manages to coo between his own moans. You sob as your orgasm peaks, even more when you slip into a state of oversensitivity. Joel doesn’t relent, “Oh, baby. I know, baby, I know.”
It isn’t until your panties start to tear that he draws back, precome beading at the slit of his cock from how turned on he is. He is smeared with your arousal too, pearly white, and he seems to have put all the strength he has into holding back so you don’t pass out. 
You shiver, trying to make sense of why your body chose to make you come so hard from a simple clit orgasm. The sweat on your body suddenly feels cold, and you reach for him until he leans down and kisses your lips. You whimper into his mouth. He wipes away a few tears.
“You okay?” He asks softly, pulling back slightly to look you in the eyes as you reply.
“Yes, sorry.”
“No, no. Don’t apologize,” he tuts, “You were gorgeous. God, I am so crazy about you.”
“Now you,” you insist, looking down between the two of you to see the red tip of his weeping cock, “You promised.”
“That I did,” he draws back until he is on his knees again. He grabs the base of his dick, strokes it a few times, and then lays it against the crotch of your underwear. 
Joel rubs the head fast against the soft fabric. He holds onto your thighs, neck muscles straining as he seeks out his own pleasure. You watch him whilst delirious with post-orgasmic bliss, occasionally whimpering when he unintentionally slides over your swollen clit. 
A moment later, after one of your particularly high whines, he comes with a short breath of relief. He stains the fabric, lays his cock heavy against the front of the underwear, and pulses until he has no more to give. It’s intense to see him like this, and you find yourself grabbing his wrist to keep him in the moment with you. 
“Christ, sweetheart,” he pants. He slumps a little.
“I thought it was love bug,” you say with irresistible charm. 
“Don’t make me tell you to lick ‘em clean, young lady,” he smirks, already crawling forward to lay down on top of you. He crushes you so heavenly with his weight, pretending-biting your cheek and causing you to snicker, “Are we clear?”
You hold him close, relishing in everything that he is, “We’re clear. I’ll behave. Somewhat.”
“Somewhat?” He nuzzles into your neck and presses a kiss. 
“Well, I don’t think I’m quite satisfied,” you say dramatically. 
Joel pulls back to glare at you, “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Well, I need you inside me too,” you pout even more dramatically, “Pussy feels so lonely, Daddy. Needs something.”
“Well, we can’t starve this insatiable pussy, can we?” Joel catches on quickly, and soon, he has you screaming on three of his fingers. 
.
.
.
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murdrdocs · 11 months
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just read all your imagines and they are so good!! just on here to req anything hobie brown related cos god that man is so fine. maybe like a one-shot where they are fwb cos hobie doest do labels but gets jealous and then asks reader to be his gf and then shows her off to everyone. just like really anything u want to write tbh ✨✨
end of line | h. brown
description. being friends with benefits with your best friend, hobie brown, is fun and all, but you start to realize that maybe firm labels suit you better than whatever this is
includes. slight smut SUGGESTIVE 16+, fem!reader referred to as “girl”, fluff, sweet!hobie, pav gwen and miles mention, rockstar!hobie
a/n: i have no words this was supposed to be uploaded like a week ago but then i went to disney so ... sorry yall. also not edited well bc ... disney. edit: title from the song by daft punk bc tron <3
word count: 1.7k+
things are still in your bedroom. they always are right before he arrives.
you're not a psychic, nor do you have a "spider-sense" (which, with the creepy-sixth sense way hobie described it, you don't want one either), but you like to think that you can tell when he'll come by.
nights when you haven't heard much from him, but the sirens seemed to never stop outside, were usually when your window would creek as it slid up.
you listen out for the sound now as you finish painting your last nail. you'd used the quick dry polish tonight, in hopes that you wouldn't have a repeat of last time, when your fingernails weren't dried but hobie was incredibly impatient and when you were done, you'd realized that your right ring and pinkie fingers were smudged.
the bottle's closed, you'd blown on your nail to ensure it dried, and that's when your window slides open.
there's no point in looking back at him when he tumbles into the room. he starts mumbling complaints as soon as the window's closed, the sound of his shoes unlacing padding his words, something about some common thief who hobie was going to let go but then he went and messed with the lady on the street and her cat.
you'd lost the tail end of his words whenever he started walking closer to you. you sat up straighter, pushed everything out of the way, and waited for him to turn your chair around.
which, when he did, you looked up at him, small smile on your lips as you stared into his deep brown eyes.
"how's your night, hm?" he asked, a courtesy before getting to the real action.
you shrugged, pretending to think. "nothing. just a lot of this."
"no smashing societal standards? picking off misogynists one by one?"
a small laugh in the form of a snort from you. "nah. figured i'd take a day off, you know?" the sarcasm dripping from your words. that's not who you were. you wish you could've been like that, could've been like hobie. but there's one spider-person for a reason.
"oh, yeah, uh-huh..." and hobie trailed off as he leaned in, pointer finger hooking under your chin to pull your lips to his.
it always felt good to kiss hobie.
you'd fantasized about it for weeks before it actually happened. he's your closest friend at the moment, and he occupied the title before this arrangement even existed. and of course you had the worry about ruining your beautiful friendship if you became more, fear that you wouldn't be able to go back and you would subsequently lose probably the best friend you've ever had.
but that was no need to worry. because while you could let hobie pull you up and lead you to your bed, sitting back and pulling you into his lap while he kissed you with a tenderness you know so well, you could also just be friends with him, sitting side by side on the couch and having a movie marathon of horrible biopics without thinking about jumping each other's bones.
there's a balance here that you could only hope would've existed.
and it's never thrown off. not even when he pulls your shirt over your head and his full lips find your nipples and the slightly-faded marks he'd left a few days ago. not even when he switches your position, laying you back and kissing down your torso until he can bury his head between your legs. not even when you whine and cry just a bit, slightly begging for him to pull his suit off so he can fuck into you in a way that only he can.
you try not to think about the equilibrium of your relationship with hobie when your legs hook around his waist and the heels of your feet dig into your lower back. you try to solely focus on the way his cock fills you up perfectly, mostly long with the right amount of girth for your walls, tip reaching deep within you in an almost mind bending way.
but you can't help but think about the way hobie doesn't do labels when he helps you to your bathroom, where he lets the shower heat up while you sit in a shirt he left behind a few days ago when he'd shown up as just hobie brown and not spiderman. you can't help but think about being hobie's girlfriend when his big, veiny hands run along your skin after the shower, smothering you in shea butter as you struggle to hold your eyes open. and you don't bother attempting to fight off the lasting thought of being hobie's while he hums an unknown song to himself with your head on his chest, the deep sound of his voice and the vibration of his chest lulling you to sleep.
you need to be someone's.
the friends with benefits scenario was fun, it worked, it was glorious, but you don't think it's for you. and labels aren't for hobie.
so, you look elsewhere.
you're at hobie's show, standing in the back of the pub with a drink you weren't interested in, with some guy you really weren't all that interested in, either. but he smelled nice, and he seemed nice, and you were just looking to broaden your horizons just a bit.
you and hobie weren't exclusive, but maybe it's a little wrong to flirt with someone else at his show. but you were slightly upset, and craving attention, so it didn't matter.
not until hobie got off stage.
it took a while for him to roam over to you, but even then you were still entertaining the other guy. giggling, tilting your head, batting your eyelashes, your hip popped out and a manicure, that was still fresh, blinging as your hand rested on the bone.
he greets you with a term of endearment that he uses often, but it feels different in this circumstance. you tell yourself that it feels different because you want it to feel different.
"oi, babe! who's this bloke?"
his arm slings over your shoulder and you tense under it. your hands folding over your chest, your smile tightening a little.
“uh this is steven.” your hand reaches out to point to the man, a tight lipped smile spreading onto his lips.
“steven …” hobie repeats the name slowly, and without looking at him you can tell that he’s eyeing the guy up and down.
the air is stiff, the three of you are silent, and unfortunately, steven takes the hint to dismiss himself, and you instantly turn to hobie, a scowl on your face.
“what the fuck, hobes?” you’re pissed, but the nickname still slips off easily.
hobie shrugs and reaches into his back pocket, a cigarette appearing and he sticks it between his lips. instantly, your fingers pluck it out from his mouth, instead putting it in your own back pocket.
instead of looking upset, hobie looks amused. his hands reach out to grab your waist, and you want to give in, but you try to push his hands away instead.
hobie lets you, and you don’t know if your happy or upset with that.
“what’d you mean?”
you stare at him, deadpan, then gesture to where steven had walked away towards.
“you just cockblocked me!”
a cocky grin, almost a little condescending. “i didn’t ‘cockblock’ you, babes. you weren’t trying to get with that guy.” your eyebrow lifts and you can see realization come onto hobie’s face. “oh … you were?”
“yes! of course i was!”
“but why? you are i are together.”
“sure, hobes, but we’re not ‘together’.”
“yes we are.”
“no, we aren’t.”
“why do you think that?”
you suddenly feel a little insecure, eyes scanning the thinning crowd, ears noticing the way the volume in the pub is lowered. “because you’ve never put a label on it, bee.”
another layer of realization. hobie’s hands coming to your waist again, but this time you let him pull you in.
“i didn’t know we needed a label. but you’re my girl. and i’m your guy.”
your body heats up and you bite down onto your lower lip giddily, peeking up at hobie through your lashes.
"thought you didn't like relationships?"
"labels. i don't like labels."
there's a disruption in the atmosphere. goosebumps raise on your skin, the hair on the back of your neck sticks up, and even if you weren't aware internally, the way the magazine you were previously reading floats above the table would've tipped you off.
the portal opens shortly after, but you knew it was coming. it took hobie a while to tell you that he was spiderman, longer to convince you that he was spiderman, and a while longer to convince you of the existence society, and even though you know, you still get a little shocked whenever a portal opens.
he comes through first, thud of his heavy boots against the floor of his flat. the spoon in your mouth clings against the side of the bowl, your free hand reaches out to the tv remote to pause the episode as you look over at hobie.
"oi, didn't know you were still here." is all he says before he's walking over, pulling his mask off on the way, and leaning down. your head tilts up instantly to meet his lips in a kiss, your body warming with the way his hand pushes into the back of the couch, slender but muscular form caging you in.
you expect him to sit beside you and force you to give a recap of the episode, but he stands back, and then three other people come through the portal.
"oh ... are we expecting guests?" surprise sits in your words, the tone amplified when hobie takes your bowl of cereal out of your hands to finish it off himself.
"right," he speaks through mouthfuls, saying your name as an introduction to the other three. "this is pav, miles, and gwendy. spider people." you nod, waving at each.
"this here, is my girlfriend." three sets of spider-eyes widen with the admission and you can already sense what's coming.
"wow, you're pretty. 's nice to meet you."
"i knew it! i could sense the tension as soon as we got here."
"you have a girlfriend? wait. i thought you didn't like labels."
a small smile on your face as you tuck your hands in the pocket of hobie’s sweatshirt that you wear.
in coordination learned from how close you two are, you speak at the same time.
"he doesn't like consistency."
"don't like consistency, mate."
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