#but like come on that is not fair this is the

[angelsforthenight]

i could eat that girl for lunch… (ellie williams)

ways you can help gaza🇵🇸

summary: you post cute pictures on your story in the hopes of gaining a certain girl’s attention… luckily you get more than what you anticipated ;)

cw: mdni, fem!reader, texting, cunnilingus, desperate top!ellie, teasing sub!reader, cannibalistic metaphors, cursing, ellie is goofy lmao

you’re this close to screaming. the winged eyeliner on your left eye somehow keeps fucking up; either looking too splotchy or shorter than your right one. what’s pissing you off the most is the fact that you aren’t even going anywhere… getting all dolled up just to take it all off in 15 minutes, just to post cute little photos on your story and, of course, just to get her attention.

ellie williams. the name rolled off your tongue with such velvety sleek. every single one of your friends knows her name; has had to endure through your countless obsessive gushes.

you two had met during a party. having been in a drunken haze, you barely remember the first conversation that sparked such an interest, but you do remember her gin breath against your ear: asking/shouting, amidst the blaring music, if you had wanted to go somewhere a little more quieter. the night ended up in you being fingered in her car, before being driven back home by her. a freckle-faced angel in a leather jacket coated with small pins and badges. you were immediately hooked. but it’s been a week since then, and you two haven’t spoken. having achieved her number, you thought of messaging, but didn’t want to come across as desperate, even though you so were.

you thank instagram suggested for bringing you her account on a platter; being filled with niche, introverted posts of every cool-looking thing but her face. she doesn’t even have a “me” highlights! you can’t tell if her lack in posting her face is a blessing or a curse. so here you are, getting ready to post on your story since you followed her the day before. the skin around your eye is starting to sting by the amount of times you’ve been wiping and restarting your eyeliner. it needs to be perfect. you’ve orchestrated all this to be perfect. you take a deep breath and focus, striving to get the perfect wing.

“thank fuck.” you murmur under your breath once you finally get it right, before enveloping your lips in lipstick. you admire yourself in the mirror once done. you look fucking amazing.

since you spent way too long putting on your makeup, it wouldn’t be fair to yourself to only post one picture, so you post a couple. a mirror picture following up a layout of 4 images with the perfect song in the background. a little smile tugs at your lips as you replay the story two, three, four times before setting it on do not disturb and finding something else to do. your heart pounds at the thought of ellie seeing it, praying that she’ll interact. even a simple like will do.

after removing your makeup and getting into your pyjamas, you click on a movie to pass time, setting your phone on do not disturb. half an hour passes, and you’ve been neurotically checking your phone for a sign of ellie to appear on your notifications, but nothing. you check your story to see if she’s seen it but again, nothing. another hour passes, and you check for any sign of ellie. nada. look at my story, you freak! are the words etched in your head, words you wished you could telepathically scream at her. you remember you set your phone on do not disturb for a reason, so you place it far away and focus on finishing the film.

a while later, you’re slumped on your couch on the verge of falling asleep. the movie’s ended and it was so boring that you’re finding it hard to keep your eyes open. you decide to check your do not disturb notifications one last time before taking a nap, until your eyes fall on the name ‘ellie.’ you immediately jerk up, awake and alert: your thumb automatically pressing the notification centre so you can see what it reads.

seventeen minutes ago.

ellie liked your story

ellie liked your story

ellie replied to your story: doll face

ellie replied to your story: you need a seat? lemme volunteer 🙏🙏

a shit-eating grin lights up your face. fucking finally! not once but twice! you excitedly draw your knees up to your chest, eager fingers tapping away, ready to respond - regardless of how long you’d been waiting for her texts. play it cool….

y/n: hahaha thank u thank u <3

y/n: (replied) oh word?

you’re surprised and very happy when you see the ‘typing…’ your heart doing goddamn backflips.

ellie: wooooord

ellie: literally cannot stop replaying ur story… bring that over here 🙁

ellie: come over

!!! your heart sinks all the way down to your ass. the hell does she mean come over?

y/n: ur not serious lmaoaoaooa

ellie: i’m being deadass,,, come over.

you look at the time. it’s almost 1 in the morning.

y/n: idek where u live bru😭😭😭😭

y/n: if anything you should come over since you’ve driven me to my house b4

ellie: mmm nahhhh

you blink in disbelief when ellie sends her location over. she’s not kidding.

y/n: girl i look bummy… i don’t even have any makeup on anymore :< took it off

ellie: i really don’t care

ellie: plsplspsls come over

ellie: u won’t regret it……………. trust 🤓🤓

next thing you know you’re leaving your house in your plaid shorts and a silly graphic tee. thankfully, ellie only lives 10 minutes away, so you take a bus before walking up to her apartment.

y/n: i’m cominggg

ellie: LOL yeaa you will be coming real soon 😇😇😇

though you cringe at her text, your body betrays you; your stomach forming a deep pit. she’s so sultry and playful you don’t know even know what to think. and there goes your heart again, hastily beating away like there’s no tomorrow. you reach the door, a trembling hand raising up to knock.

“hi.” ellie beams, smiling like an idiot. her eyes seize you from head to toe, “nice fit.”

“told you i looked bummy...” you mumbled, trying your best not to seem nervous. ellie moves aside so you can come in. her apartment smells exactly like she does; that faint campfire scent, conjoined with a forest-ey musk. a forest fire you were more than willing to burn in.

“so…“ you begin, with nothing prepared to follow up after that.

“sooooooo….” ellie repeats blithely.

“it’s been a week since… you know…” you whisper, awkwardly shifting your legs.

“since…?” ellie blinks, furrowing her eyebrows. she’s taunting you, trying to play innocent when it’s pretty fucking obvious what you’re on about.

“the party.” you respond, entertaining her coyness for no reason.

“party?” ellie pretends to think, looking up at nothing. “oh!! yeah… jesse’s one.” she smirks.

you smirk back, furrowing your eyebrows in amusement. “you could do so much better at playing dumb, y’know…”

“you think so?” ellie narrows her eyes, tilting her head as she steps closer. the impish smirk on her face never leaves. she’s having fun. you both are.

“yup. for your own good, don’t choose acting as a career.”

“for my own good?”

“for your own good.” you haven’t even realised how close you two are to each other now, daring eyes locked with another pair of daring eyes. takes one to know one. a silence permeated with tension fills the room.

“c’mere…” ellie finally mumbles before cupping your face with both hands and bringing you in for a kiss. you’re quick to melt in her grasp, your hand finding it’s way to ellie’s hair, giving it a playful tight squeeze that elicits a quiet groan from her. her hands, those goddamn hands, then move to your waist, pulling you closer. you two don’t even waste time before you’re making out with such fervor. save the sweetness for later, it’s the hunger that’s on display for now. the memory of her lips were starting to slip away from your mind and you’re glad you’re here to reboot it.

once you pull away, ellie’s eyes drift to something behind you. you follow her gaze, only for your eyes to land on a chair in the middle of the goddamn living room. it’s so random that you can’t help but burst out laughing.

“why is there a chair?” you ask in the midst of your laughing fit. it’s not even that funny, but the laughing is helping with your nerves.

“it’s for you.” ellie giggles too, a light pink tint on her cheeks that’s hard to miss.

“me?” you blink rapidly, your gaze darting from the chair to ellie, “do i sit?” you ask stupidly.

“no, you stand.” sarcasm laces her tone, as she giggles a little more, “go sit.”

“don’t order me around like i’m your dog.” you respond playfully, but you do as she says. despite your ‘tough’ front, you’d do anything she’d tell you to. guess she was being literal about offering you a seat…

ellie grins down at you, angling your chin up so you’re looking at her. you can feel the heat start to prickle in your face, down your neck and pervading the rest of your body. her thumb traces along your bottom lip, slightly dragging it down. there’s that same darkened look she had back in her car, one that makes you feel so small.

“so cute… like a human deer.” she murmurs distractedly, almost like she’s talking to herself instead of you. your head grows fuzzy, blushing even more. you mindlessly squeeze your thighs together, trying to ease the growing heat in between. ellie notices.

“you doing okay?” she softly asks, unable to mask the smug look on her face. you nod quietly. with her eyes kept on you, she lowers down until she’s on her knees, her smile growing. she kisses the top of both your kneecaps in such a tender way it sends tingles down your spine.

“can i eat you?” she breathes, her voice hollow and needy. it takes a second for those words to register in your brain.

“you…” you trail off. ellie’s gaze is very, very distracting. so intense and intrusive. she patiently waits for your answer, resting her chin on top of your knees. how can someone look so adorable and intimidating at the same time?

“please?” she adds, and you smile. a realisation has just dawned on you: you like to make her wait.

“eat me?” you cock your head to the side in feigned confusion. now it’s your turn to play dumb.

“yeah… like, your pussy.” ellie mumbles, becoming so desperate that it’s funny. she needed to be humbled at least a little. “i want a taste…”

“yeah?” you mock, and ellie’s face warps into a frown. “stop teasing me.”

“it’s only payback.” you shrug.

“for what?” ellie whines.

“for taking a week to text me.”

ellie stares at you for a moment. “then let me make it up to you…” her eyes travel down to your clamped thighs, wanting to open them up so bad. truth is, you’d let her devour you. chew you up like a deranged creature and watch her greedily lick the blood from her fingers. but teasing her was just so damn fun.

“aren’t your knees getting tired?” you tease, cupping the side of her face as she stares up at you with puppy eyes. it’s getting hard to resist. ellie immediately shakes her head.

“for you? never.” she whispers. your grin broadens in satisfaction. such sweet words. meaningless? maybe, but cute nonetheless.

“fine…” you sigh, leaning back and gesturing for ellie to go forth. ellie’s face lights up like a bulb, eagerly parting your legs. the movement makes you shiver, as you can feel the heated moisture of your arousal seep through your underwear. despite your shorts still being on, ellie’s lips travel up, both hands gripping your sides as her lips leave fond, wet kisses along your inner thigh. her teeth clench around the hem of your shorts, letting out a muffled chuckle as she playfully pulls your shorts down with her teeth. she’s kidding around but that’s one of the hottest things you’ve ever seen in your life.

you adjust your knees so that your shorts can be pulled down. you’re so wet your underwear is fucking see-through. you just know she’s about to say something.

“someone’s real excited-“

“shut up and keep going.” you hastily cut her off out of embarrassment. ellie laughs, glancing at you one more time before leaning back down again, dragging her ardent tongue up your inner thigh. you gasp quietly, and that little noise influences her to do more, letting out a sigh of her own; the sort of sigh you do when relaxing in a hot bath, or when pissing after holding it in for so long… like she’s needed this. you’re startled when ellie drags her tongue right in the center of your clothed heat, your breath hitching. you want more.

ellie’s teasing is relentless and mean. she sucks your clit through your underwear, eyes on you; observing the way your hips are desperately buckling up, the way your thighs are twitching.

“so mean…” you whine as ellie flicks and rolls her tongue against your underwear.

“did you want something?” ellie blinks. again with the coyness. you scowl and ellie grins in return.

“you can’t outdo the do-er, babe.” she chirps, pulling the drenched underwear off your legs. she opens your legs wide, staring at your pussy like it’s the best piece of artwork she’s ever seen. you can practically see sparkles in her eyes. you shiver when you feel her fingers pry your cunt open.

“so fucking hungry for you…” she whispers, her breathing shallow and her eyes glazed-over. she gets to work immediately, a firm trail up your vulva before kissing it with her lips. a fleshed moan doesn’t fail to escape your own lips, as your eyes flutter shut. of course she’d be good at this.

ellie moans too, gripping your thighs and pulling you closer, burying her face in between your legs as she goes to town on you. she’s moving like she’s starving, like she hasn’t eaten for weeks and has been presented with a banquet.

her lips tug at your folds, your pussy slick with a mixture of your arousal and her spit. every single time her lips hit your clit it elicits yet another strong reaction from you. she’s so vigilant that she’s quick to notice that that’s your most delicate spot, so she abuses it; kissing it and pulling on it, her head shaking as she pleases you with her tongue. you nourish her with hushed praises: ones like “yes, yes…” or “you’re doing so good” to keep her going. it fuels ellie like no other, and drives her to go harder, a little faster.

her movements are so consistent and perfect that you could froth in the mouth right here and now. you grip her hair tightly, and ellie adores it: groaning happily when you squeeze too tight. you mindlessly push ellie’s head closer to your pussy, feeling the tip of her nose buried in. your moans begin to crescendo. you’re in fucking ecstasy.

“getting close, are we?” ellie pants, her thumb rubbing your clit in slow, teasing drags as she resumes sucking on your cunt.

“i’m gonna cum… i’m cumming… e-ellie…” you babble, tears threatening to pour; and it isn’t just the eye tears we’re talking about here…

“yeah? you gonna let yourself go?” ellie stares up at you, her voice a little higher and breathier. her face is warped into one of pleasure, like she’s the one being fucked.

“yeah… please ellie, i’m really close…” you whine: barely coherent, light tears streaming down your face. ellie chuckles at how adorable you look, taking a second to appreciate how good you look when needy. she dives back in, her nails digging into your thigh as her mouth moves with the perfect vigour to push you off the edge. and oh, you do.

one last strong lick gets you off: your spine bending backwards, same as your head as you let out a strangled scream. you grip her hair tightly, your eyes momentarily rolling to the back of your head as ellie purposely continues to extend the high a little bit. eventually, she pulls back. the both are you are completely out of breath - huffing and panting like dogs.

you slump back in your chair, completely out of it and in a daze. ellie smiles.

“you okay?” she murmurs, appreciating your cute, spent look. you nod quietly in response.

“fuck, my knees.” she mumbles, before sitting back and stretching them. you laugh a little.

“there was no need for the chair.” you reply.

“i know… but i wanted to. it was hot.”

“it was.” you smile. you’re glad you decided to get dolled up for your story tonight.

a/n: i’m back! i’ve been so caught up in school that i haven’t been able to post fics as much but i’ll try 2 be more active :33 i’m absolutely obsessed with billie’s lunch so i made an ellie fic based off of it. hope u enjoyed and if u have any requests leave them in the ask inbox !!!

#ellie williams smut #ellie williams #the last of us #tlou fanfiction #tlou2 #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou2 #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie x y/n #tlou2 smut #lesbian #ellie williams fanfic #ellie x you #ellie williams x reader #smut #ellie smut #billie eilish

[flor4de4amor]

biting on abby muscles ESPECIALLY her thigh muscles I'm drooling

i also got super ahead of myself w this one... woopsies guys!

click for palestine | boycot tlou!! | read b4 engaging w me

warnings: smut, reader fingers abby, the two of you are friends w benefits (which i feel like is a trigger in itself so i'm being considerate in forewarning)

you get like this whenever you’re ovulating. abby thinks it’s cute. you’ve got an itch only she can scratch. her needy little girl, who cries her name when her thick fingers stretch out your cunt. who bounces on her plastic cock, like you’ll die if you stop and squirts all over her torso. who laps at her pussy like it’s fucking ambrosia. she loves it. she could never deny you. especially, you call her late into the night, while she’s supposed to be sleeping.

you’re a night owl and she’s an early bird. your relationship was doomed to fail, amongst other reasons. but it’s just sloppy sex every once and a while, so who cares? definitely not abby, and definitely not you. which is why whenever you call, she comes running. she’s never been dissatisfied by your acts of service. 

but now, you’re teasing her, and abby is growing both restless and agitated. she didn’t drag herself out of bed half asleep to be teased. she came over to, well, cum. your tongue licking over every exposed surface of her body, except where she wants needs you. her clit is throbbing with urgency. “baby,” she grimaces using the name, as you run your fingers over her toned stomach and kiss up her muscular thighs.

“hm?” you question with a hum looking up her without stopping your movements.

“you gonna fuck me tonight or what?” abby asks hastily with a scoff.

you smile against her salvia-coated quad. “are you gonna be mean to me?”

she sucks her teeth, which you see, despite your room only being illuminated by a low lamp. “maybe,” she replies.

you bite into the tender flesh of her meaty thigh in response. you moan while doing so, “i bet you taste so good,” you say aloud. she grunts at your action.

“i do,” abby says with a hint of desperation in her voice.

you hook both your index fingers into the waistband of her underwear, pulling them down to her ankles, and throw it to the other side of your room. your ring and middle finger, group to her slit and collect her slick. you lick your fingers, “you’re sweet alright.” you repeat the action of collection, before offering your fingers to the pale girl. “wanna try?” you don’t give her much choice as you gently prod her mouth open. her tongue circling around your digits with a moan. “do you think you’re sweet baby?” you ask before sucking on her thigh once more, adding another layer of bruises to her legs. marks for her to show off with those teasing biker shorts she always wears to the gym.

“uhuh,” she tells you while bucking her hips upward, in need of some contact. you place your forearm atop her lower torso. though the force doesn’t halt her, she lowers her hips in a forfeit.

“you want me to eat this pretty pussy abby?” the use of her name only makes her more needy. she nods her head eagerly. “she’s crying for me,” you mumble into the crease of her legs, nibbling once more. she huffs. the more you dig your canines into her, the more desperate she gets. you’re playing dirty. it’s no fair. that’s usually her job.

without warning, you thrust your fingers into her weeping cunt. she gasps at the motion. you giggle, as she squelches and squeezes around your fingers. “more,” she commands.

“i don’t negotiate with terrorists,” you grunt while increasing the speed of your fingers, as cream collects around them. you press a faint kiss to her clit. pressing your flat tongue to the bundle of nerves. she thrust upwards again, and you pull back. “you ruin it for yourself baby.” you look at her hooded eyes. she’s so sexy when she’s desperate. 

she slurs, “i’m sorry,” her toes clenching. her pretty freckled face all flushed out.

“you’re needier than i am,” you tease her, pressing your tongue on her clit once more. she moans your name while clenching around you. you suck on her soft clit, gently and carefully using your teeth. you know just how to make abby a mess.

“i’m close,” she tells you while wrapping her hands around your messy hair. those thick thighs you love so much, wrapping around your head, trapping you into the mound you cherish. you grunt into her soft cunt and grind against your bed sheets, sure for there to be proof of your desperation when you’re done. abby cums loudly, her head tossed back and eyes shut. you watch her intensely. while slightly overstimulating her as you still finger her relentlessly, but latch your mouth to her slick and sweaty thighs once more.

her hands wipe the sweat off your forehead with as much care as casual fucking will allow. “was it good?” you ask her, looking up at her with big wide eyes searching for approval.

“you’re a fucking succubus baby,” she gently slaps your face. you groan with pleasure, “was more than good.” she uses her rough hands in your hair to pull your face off her legs, “why don’t you come up here on my face so i can return the favor?” you grin, climbing up the sexy trunk of abby, ready to receive from her greedily.

#written by lina ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ #phia ♡ #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson #abby anderson fluff #abby tlou #abby the last of us #abby x reader #abby x you #wlw fanfic #wlw blog #wlw yearning #smut #abby headcanons #abby smut #abby anderson drabble #abby anderson imagine #tlou abby #abby anderson tlou2 #ellie williams smut #ellabs #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams headcanons #ellie williams imagine #ellie x reader #the last of us fluff #tlou fanfiction #abby anderson x black!reader

[fastandcarlos]

Lucky Charm ~ Lando Norris

Summary: Y/N finally decides she’s ready to brave the chaos of race day at the paddock, and the boys are more than happy to give her the introduction she deserves

liked by georgerussell63, alex_albon, and 51,292 others

ynusername: imola here I come 🇮🇹

2,282 comments

username1: ofc she’s going to support lando

alex_albon: who said anything about lando?? maybe she’s there to cheer for me??

landonorris: can’t wait to see you bby 🔥

username3: I swear these two are complete goals

username4: it’s not fair how one person can be this pretty

carlossainz55: there’s a seat in ferrari with your name on

maxverstappen1: woah there! we’ve already called dibs on having her at red bull

landonorris: um excuse me…I think you’ll find y/n will be spending her weekend with me

ynusername: you lot are the worst 🤦🏻‍♀️

username5: I love seeing all my favourite people argue

username6: this is my highlight and the race hasn’t even begun yet…

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

landonorris just posted

liked by carlossainz55, oscarpiastri and 728,220 others

landonorris: race day ready with my lucky charm by my side 🍀

tagged: ynusername

83,271 comments

username7: mum and dad 🥺

ynusername: cannot wait to cheer for you tomorrow!! ily

landonorris: ily so much more ❤️

danielricciardo: @landonorris i love you more than y/n does

ynusername: @danielricciardo that’s impossible

username8: how have we survived waiting this long for paddock y/n and lando

charles_leclerc: it was worth the wait tho…right?

username9: can you pls just marry each other now and have lots of beautiful babies

alex_albon: how do you race for 2 hours and still manage to look this good norris

landonorris: @alex_albon you just need a y/n in your life, she always leaves me looking a million dollars

alex_albon: @lilymhe get better

ynusername: @alex_albon oi we do not accept lily slander in this household

landonorris: ahem, aside from me ofc

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

ynusername posted

liked by landonorris, lewishamilton and 39,201 others

ynusername: ready for the race and to cheer for my man! 🏎️🏁

tagged: landonorris

4,926 comments

carlossainz55: if you’re cheering for your man, why are you not wearing my shirt??

username10: excuse me sir?? you are very much mistaken

ynusername: if I was cheering for my favourite ex team mate of lando’s then you’d be my number 1 😍

danielricciardo: 💔💔💔💔

landonorris: did I ever tell you how good papaya looks on you?

landonorris: I just know I’ll win today with my lucky charm watching over me 🩷

username11: pls can we all adopt y/n as our lucky charm

francisca.cgomes: how have you been here 2 days and you’ve still not come to visit me

pierregasly: ha! she’s come to visit me, how does it feel to be second fave??

ynusername: @francisca.cgomes just saving the best til last aye

username12: if we do not see y/n at every race from now on there will be a protest

username13: I just want a love like theirs…is that too much to ask for??

georgerussell63: if you want a shirt upgrade y/n then just lemme know…

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

landonorris just posted

liked by oscarpiastri, mclaren and 1,291,749 others

landonorris: cloud nine ☁️ p1 and an evening with my best friend…what more could a guy want?

tagged: mclaren and ynusername

82,201 comments

oscarpiastri: that reminds me mate, I’m in the room next door, have you got any ear defenders?

ynusername: OSCAR PIASTRI!! SHUT YOUR MOUTH

landonorris: good idea, it’s gonna get loud tonight!

mclaren: another top week lando, well done! this lucky charm of yours might have to show up more often

username14: I don’t want this race weekend to end

username15: pls lord don’t let this be the last time we see y/n at a race

danielricciardo: congrats bud, fully deserved!!

maxverstappen1: a million dollars for y/n to be my lucky charm next weekend

landonorris: no amount of money will ever let me give y/n to you…she’s mine only

carlossainz55: is it possible to love two people more?

ynusername: stop with the third wheel dramatics!!

ynusername: had the best time ever!! can’t wait to do it all again soon my love 🩷

#f1 #f1 imagine #formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando norris au #f1 au #formula 1 au #f1 x reader #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #formula 1 x you #f1 reaction #f1 social media #formula 1 social media #lando norris social media

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Eartha Kitt (Anna Lucasta, St. Louis Blues)—My friend and I have a saying: NOBODY is Eartha Kitt. A thousand have tried, and they've all come up empty and will continue to do so. Everyone knows her for something: from "Santa Baby" to Yzma in Emperor's New Groove to Catwoman to making Lady Bird Johnson cry for the Vietnam War. She was a master of comedy and sex, an extremely vocal activist, and she aged like fine wine... I honestly don't know what I can say about her that hasn't already been said, so I'll stick to linking all my propaganda. Like what else do you want from me. She was iconic at everything she ever did. Literally name another. How can anyone even think of her and not want to absolutely drown?

Audrey Hepburn (My Fair Lady, Sabrina, Roman Holiday)—I know people nowadays are probably sick of seeing her with all the beauty and fashion merch around that depicts her and/or Marilyn Monroe but she is considered a classic Hollywood beauty for a reason. Ironically in her day she was more of the alternative beauty when compared to many of her contemporaries. She always came off with such elegance and grace, and she was so charming. Apparently she was a delight to work with considering how many of her co-stars had wonderful things to say about her. Outside of her beauty and acting ability she was immensely kind. She helped raise funds for the Dutch resistance during WWII by putting on underground dance performances as well as volunteering at hospitals and other small things to help the resistance. During her Hollywood career and later years she worked with UNICEF a lot. Just an all around beautiful person both inside and out.

We are in the quarterfinals of the Hot & Vintage Movie Women Tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Propaganda is not my own and is on a submission basis. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Eartha Kitt:

"A hot vintage woman who was not just known for her voice, beauty, poise, and presence, but also her unapologetic ways of speaking about how she was mistreated in the show business as a girl who grew up on cotton fields in South Carolina in the 1930s through the 1940s coming to Broadway first and then Hollywood."

"Have you watched her sing?? Have you seen her face?? Have you heard her talk?? How could you not fall instantly in love. She makes me incoherent with how hot she is."

"She can ACT she can SING she can speak FOUR LANGUAGES she is a GODDESS!!! Although she is (rightfully) remembered for her singing, TV appearances (Catwoman my beloved), and later film roles, her early appearances in film are no less impressive or noteworthy!! She’s an amazing actress with so much charisma in every role. She was also blacklisted from Hollywood for 10 years for criticizing the Johnson administration/Vietnam War, so. Iconic. Also Orson Welles apparently called her “the most exciting woman in the world.”

"She had such a stunning, remarkable appearance, like she could tear you to shreds with just a glance- but the most undeniable part of her hotness was her voice, and it makes sense that it's what most people nowadays know her for. Nothing encapsulates the sheer magnetism of her singing better than this clip of her and Nat King Cole in St. Louis Blues, she pops in at 2:49. Also I know it's post-1970 but her song that was cut from Emperor's New Groove is likely to make you feel Feelings."

"Even with as racist as Hollywood was in the 1950s and 60s, Eartha Kitt STILL managed to have a thriving career. She also once had a threesome with Paul Newman and James Dean, and called out LBJ over the Vietnam War so hard that it made First Lady Johnson cry. Eartha Kitt was talented, sexy, and a total badass activist."

Audrey Hepburn:

"She may be a wispy, thin little thing, but when you see that girl, you know you're really in the presence of something. In that league there's only ever been Garbo, and the other Hepburn, and maybe Bergman. It's a rare quality, but boy, do you know when you've found it." - Billy Wilder

Raised money for the resistance in nazi occupied Hungary. Became a humanitarian after retiring. Two very sexy things to do! [editor's note: not Hungary; Audrey was involved with the Dutch resistance. Source.]

"It’s as if she dropped out of the sky into the ’50s, half wood-nymph, half princess, and then disappeared in her golden coach, wearing her glass slippers and leaving no footprints." - Molly Haskell

"All I want for Christmas is to make another movie with Audrey Hepburn." - Cary Grant

where to begin......... i wont her so bad. i literally dont know what to say.

My dude. The big doe eyes, the cheekbones, the voice. The flawless way she carried herself. She was never in a movie where she wasn't drop dead gorgeous. Oh, also the fact she raised funds against the Nazis doing BALLET and she won the Presidential Medal of Freedom for her humanitarian work.

Growing up, Audrey Hepburn desperately wanting to be a professional ballerina, but she was starved during WWII and couldn't pursue her dream due to the effects of malnourishment. After she was cast in Roman Holiday, she skyrocketed to fame, and appeared in classics like My Fair Lady and Breakfast at Tiffany's. She's gorgeous, and mixes humor and class in all of her performances. After the majority of her acting career came to close, she became a UNICEF ambassador.

No one could wear clothes in this era like she could. She was every major designer's favorite star and as such her films are time capsules of high fashion at the time. But beyond that, she had such an elegance in her screen presence that belied a broad range of ability. From a naive princess, to a confused widow, to a loving and mischievous daughter, she could play it all.

Look at that woman's neck. Don't you want to bite it?

#audrey hepburn #eartha kitt #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies quarterfinals

[yougavemeyourheartyouknow]

MDNI, Mentions of sex but no smut, violence.

Thinking about baby daddy!Miguel O’Hara who’s scow immediately returned to his face as soon as you and your daughter were out of sight. Wasting no time to march to the elevator and hit the button to your floor.

Baby daddy!Miguel who couldn’t help but let out a scoff in disgust when he turned the corner of your hall and saw Henry sitting on the floor against your door. Not noticing until he was close enough that he was passed out, head lulled to the side, and an occasional snores leaving him as Miguel glared down at him.

Baby daddy!Miguel who had to resist the urge to wake him up with a swift punch in the face, and not stop until he wasn’t conscious again.

Baby daddy!Miguel that opted to instead nudged him with the side of his foot. Wanting to see what bullshit he’s spew out first.

—

What you ever say in this guy, Miguel will never understand, what you’d see in any guy that wasn’t him he’d never understand. Although to be fair, when you were with him, he probably wasn’t as pitiful looking as this.

“Not so much of a cocky ass now huh?” He couldn’t help but mumble to himself before taking the heel end of his foot and nudged the smaller male's knee. “Wake up.”

After a few more nudges, Henry woke with a loud snore, droopy eyes looking around in confusion before he finally noticed the legs in front of him. Neck cracking up slowly until he was met with the sight of Miguel’s body hulking over him. The overhead lights casting a shadow over his face so he couldn’t read his expression, and if Henry was just a tad bit less drunk, he’d feel the death-like glare being casted on him.

“Where’s (Y/N)?” He slurred, remembering why he was outside your door in the first place.

“None of your business.” Miguel retorted, hands crossing in front of his chest. Despite his scary guard dog aura, Henry tsked in annoyance as he began to stand.

“I think knowing where my girlfriend is my business-“

“She’s not your girlfriend anymore.”

Silence filled the air as Henry was finally able to get himself up on two feet, before a scoff left his lips.

“She already told you. I’m not surprised.” Now it was Miguel’s turn to scoff.

“Of course she told me. I'm the father of her child-“

“I knew something had to still be going on with you two.” Henry’s finger jabbed into Miguel’s chest, his drunken slurring forming into a bit of a hiss. Not phasing the bored look on Miguel’s face. “I’m not fucking blind, I’ve seen the way you looked at her. You’re still in love with her.”

“Look, I’m not wanting to cause any problems,” that’s a lie, “but it’s obvious you’ve had too much to drink and are just talking nonsense. She doesn’t want to see you, alright? So how about you walk away and leave her and my daughter alone.” Miguel spoke calmly, not denying the allegations thrown his way before they both knew it was true.

Miguel’s hand found its way to Henry’s back, not-so-gently pushing him towards the elevator and away from your front door.

“I’m not stupid as you think I am, man.” Henry retorted, planting his heels into the wooden floor to stop himself, before turning around to face Miguel again. “You’re not over her, you don’t think I knew what you were doing at the barbecue when you were dancing with her? Practically fucking her in front of me.” Miguel’s jaw clenched to keep himself from acting irrationally as Henry hissed at him like a dog ready to attack. “The way you always try to one up me in front of her. I’ve seen your messages to her, the old photos, the Spanish nicknames-.”

“Alright that’s enough dude.” Miguel interrupted him. Tone returning to its harsher original one.

“I’m not surprised the minute the opportunity comes, she runs back to your ass!” Henry shoved against Miguel, causing no recoil from the larger man.

“I’m not the one who cheated on her.” Miguel snapped back.

“Yeah, but you were just waiting for the opportunity for me to fuck up. Look like some…knight in shining armor.”

“Okay, man let’s go. You’re not gonna be able to finish this fight. Go home.” That’s when he felt it, a harsh pain on the side of his face. He didn’t realize till he touched his cheekbone and hissed at the throbbing sensation that came from the area that had transpired.

Henry just punched him in the face.

“I wanted to be nice. You already put her through a lot of shit in the past few days.” He mumbled as he rubbed the stop that was sure to bruise black and blue. “But you decided to make this more difficult for yourself.”

Henry didn’t have a chance to reply before his back collided with the wall, air being knocked out from his lungs as Miguel’s hands found their way to Henry's throat.

“You wanna know what happened the night she caught your ass sleeping with another girl?” The question was rhetorical.

“…What?” Henry asked, voice meek under the weight of Miguel’s hands.

“I got her to stop crying, comforted her… got her some food… then I started fucking her till she starts to cry again.”

“You son of-“ Henry began, trying to thrash his way out from under Migue, only to have more pressure applied to his throat. He quickly stopped when he felt himself become light headed, arms that were around Miguel’s wrist drop back down to his sides, and a cough left his throat when the hands around his neck loosened slightly so he could breathe a bit more properly again.

“You’re gonna shut up and listen, and listen good.” Miguel began, his voice dropping down to just above a whisper. Allowing Henry to let out a frantic nod before continuing. “I was the one who comforted her when you fucked up and broke her heart. I was the one who was there to pick up the pieces, not you. I’m the only one who knows her better than she knows herself. I’m the father of her child, me. It was always gonna be me. You weren’t the one who changed her baby’s diapers, you weren’t the one who taught Gabi to ride a bike, you weren’t there for her like I was. You never will, because when it comes down to it, she’ll pick me over you, every. damn. time.”

Miguel didn’t know what felt better, finally getting Henry to shit his smug ass up, for being able to get all his frustrated thoughts out in words.

“She’s mine, she’s always been mine, she's always going to be mine. So don’t for another second, think that you can just walk back into her life and act like you own her. You don’t own shit, you understand?” Miguel finally ended his rant, eyes narrowed as he waited for Henry’s response. Satisfaction flowing through his veins when the smaller male looked like he had just just been face to face with the grim reaper himself.

“I-yeah, yes-I understand.” Henry finally stuttered, face paled, and eyes wide.

“Good, now I want you to walk out of this building, and walk out of her life. If I see you or hear you trying to talk to her ever again, I’m not gonna do as much talking next time.”

—

Part 8<

Not proofread.

Word count:1.2k

TAGLIST IS CLOSED!

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#miguel o hara fanfic #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara au #spiderman 2099 x reader #astv spiderman 2099 #astv miguel #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 fanfic #bd!miguel #baby daddy!miguel #miguel fanfic #miguel ohara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel ohara blurb #miguel o’hara blurbs #spiderman 2099 spiderverse #spiderman 2099 blurb

[tightjeansjavi]

The Rite of Movement | part eight

“you are the rite of movement”

A/N: wow so this is officially the longest chapter of TROM yet! I suggest you get your vibrators, dildos in check + tissues because baby love, you’re gonna need them! 😭 thank you to my sweet L @endlessthxxghts for betaing this chapter and screaming at me in Google docs over how much you love these characters! It seriously warms my heart 🥹

~word count: 11.8k~

Summary: After jokingly telling Joel that you think that Tommy may have him beat in the pussy eating department, you’re eating your words immediately. It’s a night filled with firsts and of course, lots of orgasms.

Pairing | pornstar!joel x pornstar!female reader x pornstar!tommy

Warnings: smut, fluff, angst, dom/sub vibes (heavy on the dom in this chapter) degradation kink, oral f! & male receiving, unprotected piv, denial of orgasm, edging, overstimulation, squirting, daddy kink, praise kink, aftercare, mentions of food, sexual trauma (not done by Joel), mentions of the porn industry, threesome (Joel and Tommy do not touch don’t make it weird pls) there’s a lot of vulnerable and intense sexual moments between Joel and baby love but there is immediate communication after and breaks in between, consent, intimacy, established relationship, Joel is in his 40’s, reader is in her 30’s, coming out, biphobia and aromantic phobia in the queer community, language, pet names, readers nickname is baby love, +18 minors dni!

series masterlist

The tension in the room immediately sparked back up from the words you so innocently and breathlessly uttered. The Miller brother’s briefly made eye contact at your admittance and they too could sense the fast rising tension.

Joel’s lips hovered above yours, just barely touching. He held fierce eye contact with you, brow cocked in an almost condescending fashion, “you didn’t mean that, right baby love? M’sure you didn’t, sweet girl.” He rasped, dragging his thumb against your plush, lower lip, pressing down on it gently, “cus’ we’d have a bit of a problem on our hands if ya meant it.”

“We certainly would.” Tommy chuckled.

“Mean what?” You feigned innocence, leaning in to kiss him, but he was playing hard to get.

“You know exactly what you said, baby love. You really think Tommy can eat your pussy better than I can?”

Oh fuck.

“He did a pretty good job, daddy. He might have you beat…”

He clicked his skillful tongue against the roof of his mouth, letting his hand dip from your face and settle around the base of your throat like a necklace, “baby love…” he warned you, “I’d be careful with what you’re sayin.’”

You giggled softly, “why, daddy? You gonna get jealous if I think Tommy is better?”

“Jus’ might.” He grumbled.

“Well, I see there being only one way to determine who’s the better pussy eater.” Tommy chimed in.

You tore your gaze from Joel’s face over to Tommy’s smirking one, “what way would that be exactly?”

“Oh, just a little friendly pussy eatin’ competition. Winner gets to fuck you first.”

Joel fought the urge to scoff at his brother's suggestion. “Yeah, well, you’re at an unfair advantage cus’ of my bad back and all that. Ain’t gonna be able to kick your ass if we’re doin’ this right here, right now.”

Now the attention was turned directly back to you. Two pairs of dark brown eyes locked on your face. “I like your thinking, Tommy. Why don’t you both take me upstairs? That way Joel has a fair advantage.”

“Aw, well ain’t that sweet! Babygirl wants to make sure you get a fair advantage with your old man back. Now, if that ain’t true love, I don’t know what is!”

“Shut up, Tommy. I ain’t that old.” Joel grumbled, leaning in to brush his nose right below your pulse point. “S’that what you want, baby love? Want me and Tommy to eat your sweet little pussy and you decide who’s better at it?”

You swallowed hard, taking a sharp inhale of breath when he pressed a kiss against your pulse point, nipping it gently with his teeth. “Yeah, daddy. I want that.”

“Good girl.” He murmured against your skin, blindly reaching down to tuck himself back into his shorts.

Your legs felt like jello when Joel and Tommy stood on either side of you, helping you up from the chair. Tommy pressed a kiss to your cheek, letting it linger for a moment before he headed up the stairs first. Joel stayed back with you, bending down to grab your discarded shorts and panties. “You won’t be needin’ these for the rest of the evening, unless you wanna take a little break?” He was studying your face intently, leaning over to kiss your forehead.

“I’m okay, baby. Thank you for checking in on me. Think I’m just gonna get a glass of water. Would you like one?” You draped your arms around his middle, hugging him loosely.

“Of course, baby love. Gotta make sure my girl is enjoying herself, after all. I’d love a glass of water. I’ll pack up the leftovers real quick and then we’ll head upstairs?”

“Oh, she’s enjoying herself plenty. Dream come true, honestly.” You kissed his cheek then, dropping your arms from around his middle. But before you could slip away, he was pulling you right back in and kissing you sweetly.

“Good, I’m glad to hear it.” He was, truly. With past partners, both in the industry and out, there was a level of acting that Joel would find himself partaking in. Sometimes it felt genuine and natural, other times he felt awkward, but not necessarily forced. With you, there was no second guessing, no nerves or apprehension. He was simply acting upon his feelings.

After Joel finished putting away the leftovers and you grabbed yourself and him a glass of water, he followed you up the stairs, fingers playfully tickling your sides, eliciting soft giggles to slip past your lips.

Tommy had made himself comfortable on the couch pushed up against the wall while he was scrolling through his socials. He sat up at the sound of yours and Joel’s voices echoing up the stairs. “Damn. S’about time! Thought y’all were gettin’ busy down there.” He tossed his phone to the side of the couch, hopping up enthusiastically.

You made your way over to the bed, flopping down on your back, wasting no time to rid yourself of your flimsy tank top and tossed it to the side. Now you were completely naked, thighs spreading open, knees bending at a relaxed angle while your hand slowly dipped down between your parted thighs, dragging your fingers through your slick folds, gathering up the pearlescent fluid from your prior orgasm and spread it languidly around your clit with a soft, content hum. “So, which one of you boys wants to have a taste first?”

Tommy was already making his way towards the bed before Joel stopped him, giving him a firm shove with his shoulder. “You’ve had your fill.” He nearly growled, eyes set in a challenging stare, “move the fuck outta my way.”

Tommy retreated very much like a submissive dog with its tails between his legs. He held his hands up, taking a few steps back from the bed. “Someone is a little antsy.” He muttered under his breath.

Joel didn’t even hear Tommy muttering, he was zoned in on you completely as he peeled his shirt over his head and tossed it to the side with yours. One big hand dropped between your thighs and lightly slapped your hand away, eyes narrowing on your surprised face. “Did I fuckin’ say that you could touch yourself, baby love? Actin’ like such a needy little slut for daddy, ain’t ya?” He pressed his thumb directly against your clit, rubbing the little nub in slow circles.

“I’m sorry—daddy.” You squeaked out, leaning back on your elbows for support. “Are you angry with me?”

“No, baby, course not. Jus’ think you’re a bad girl for sayin’ that Tommy can eat your pussy better than I can. Think m’gonna have you eatin’ those words right up in a few minutes.” He exudes confidence, making it very clear who is in charge here. And god, does that make you drip along the sheets with want.

“Are you sure you’re not upset with me, daddy? Because if you are…I think you should punish me, and Tommy films it.”

“Bet your slutty little pussy would love a good punishing, huh baby love? S’that what she wants?” He didn’t wait for you to respond as he leaned down, spitting a glob of saliva right over your clit, smearing it in with his thumb. “Bad girls don’t get what they fuckin’ want, baby.”

You mewled softly, thighs falling open further till you felt his calloused palms halt your movements entirely, he grasped the outside of your thighs, pushing them towards your chest. “Grab onto those for me and don’t let ‘em go.” He rasped.

You did as you were told, grabbing onto the underside of your thighs and kept your knees pressed against your chest.

“Good girl.” He preened, “how do you feel about us filmin’ this, baby love? You want that?”

“Fuck, yes, please daddy.” You didn’t even take a second to think through your answer. It was an immediate and eager yes.

He snapped his fingers, glancing over his shoulder at his brother. “Make yourself useful and grab my camera off the charger, Tommy.”

Tommy muttered something unintelligible under his breath, fighting the urge to flick his brother off as he went to grab the camera. He situated himself alongside Joel, turning the camera on and wasted no time to zoom in between your thighs just as a drool of slick dripped down from your hole.

“See that? She’s drippin’ for me. That ain’t for you.” Joel snarked.

“Yeah, yeah. We’ll see how long that lasts.” Tommy quipped back.

The rules to the competition were simple, whoever made you cum first with just their mouths alone, would get to fuck you first. No hands, no toys, just some good ole fashion pussy eating. Joel did already have an advantage considering he knew your body like it was the back of his hand, but that didn’t rule Tommy out completely.

The prospect of the two Miller brothers beefing over you had you giggling at their competitive nature, but when you felt Joel drag his tongue from your hole and up your slit to your clit, your giggles quickly turned to soft moans. Unlike Tommy, Joel liked to take his time savoring you on his tongue. He suckled your clit between his lips, dark brown eyes peering up at you between thick lashes. He gently rolled the nub between his teeth, the sensation sent your eyes rolling back into your skull, a broken cry breaching your parted lips.

“Those are the sounds I fuckin’ love to hear from ya, baby love.” He murmured against your mound, pulling his face back to spit on your clit again, “can’t wait to fuck your sweet little needy pussy when I’m finished with ya.”

You clenched from his words, lips moving, but no coherent words left your mouth. Of course once he was really getting into it, Tommy got impatient, pushing Joel out of the way in a similar fashion that was done to him.

“My turn.” He nearly snapped as he placed the camera in Joel’s hands. “Drop your thighs for me babygirl, and spread ‘em nice and wide.” He wrapped his arms around your middle, big hands splayed across your stomach to keep you pinned down in his hold. He shot you a wink between your thighs before he got to work, using his tongue to fuck your little hole before dragging it up to your clit, flicking it at a faster pace than his brother.

When Joel felt like Tommy had enough, he forced his way right back in, pushing his brother out of the way and this time the camera ended up in your hands where you shakily filmed from your own POV while Joel brought one of your thighs over his shoulder for easier access. His mouth was becoming more aggressive, your sharp cries alerting him that you were close and he could nearly taste his victory on the horizon. This time, Tommy had nearly shoved Joel off the bed completely resulting in the two men to snap at one another between your thighs like two feral dogs fighting over a piece of meat.

The sight alone had you seeing stars behind your eyes. You let out a surprised yelp when Joel had manhandled you onto your stomach, causing you to nearly drop the camera when he pried your thighs apart with his thick fingers and buried his face between them. The slurping sounds his mouth was making was nothing short of obscene as he shook his head back and forth, his beard scraped against your inner thighs as you arched your back and ass into his face.

“O—oh fuck! Joel! FUCK!” You cried out, thighs beginning to tremble and quiver, the coil in your stomach was pulled impossibly tight and threatening to snap at any given moment.

“That’s it, baby love. Good fuckin’ girl. Want you to come all over daddy’s face. You know who the winner is, sweet girl. It’s your fuckin’ daddy.” He growled possessively against your pussy as you rocked your hips back against his face.

He pulled back from between your thighs with a triumphant smirk plastered on his face at the sight of your release slowly dripping from your hole and down the inside of your thigh. He reached around for the camera, gently removing it from your hands and brought it up close to your leaking pussy, “fuckin’ look at that. Drippin’ all over the goddamn sheets, baby love.” He preened.

“Guess I shoulda thought about eating her out from behind before you did, huh brother?” Tommy snorted alongside him, leaning over to grab both of your cheeks and spread them open so they both could see your pussy slowly pulse and push out another trail of slick.

“I—I need a minute.” You breathed out and slowly let your stomach come to rest along the comforter as you caught your breath, letting your eyes flutter shut.

Joel flipped the camera off, setting it off to the side of the bed before he crawled up alongside you, Tommy settled in behind you while Joel gently lifted your face from the comforter to rest it along his lap. He stroked your cheek with the back of his knuckles while Tommy was nuzzling his face against the nape of your neck, pressing a few kisses to your skin while his hand curved around your ass, gently massaging the plump flesh between his fingers.

“That—that was something.” You finally spoke again, glancing up at Joel while his fingers were now giving your head a gentle massage, blunt nails scratching at your scalp in a soothing motion.

“We know, baby love. You did so good for us.” Joel cooed, “We don’t have to do anything else tonight if you just wanna rest.”

“No—no. I want you both to fuck me.” You shook your head, curling your fingers around his bare knee, “and the rules were that whoever makes me cum first gets to fuck me first. So, daddy. What are you waiting for?”

“Mmm.” He hummed, “baby love, you’re truly jus’ the sweetest thing. Ain’t she, Tommy?”

“Mhm” Tommy rumbled behind you, his fingers had slipped down between your cheeks, gently gliding his fingers through your slick folds to keep you stimulated. “She sure is a sweet thing.”

“How about you give him a little bit of sugar while daddy goes and sets up the cameras. How’s that sound, baby love? I bet he would love it if you sucked his cock. Give him a little bit of lovin.’”

You lazily grinned up at him before slowly sitting up and glanced over your shoulder at Tommy. “You were a close second.” You reassured him and reached behind you to palm him through his shorts, “Joel’s right, you deserve a little bit of sugar, too.”

“Thanks, babygirl, but Joel had me beat from the start.” He chuckled, “M’never one to turn down receiving a bit of sugar.” He grinned, shooting you a playful wink as he slipped his hand out from between your thighs and rolled over onto his back to shimmy his shorts down over his hips.

You stayed resting on your stomach, ankles crossed behind your head, as you scooted southwards along the bed. His cock sprung free, gently slapping against his stomach. His pubes, including his balls, were shaved completely compared to Joel. A small detail that you didn’t notice the first time you and Tommy fucked. You wrapped your fist around the base of his cock, giving the soft, velvety skin a few slow tugs before you leaned over and left a few kitten licks across his tip. He let out a soft grunt of approval, tilting his head back as you slipped the crown of his cock past your lips, sucking sweetly on it.

Joel was preoccupied with maneuvering himself around the room, setting up multiple cameras and messing with the lighting and such.

“Christ, brother.” Tommy sharply inhaled. “Your girl sure has a sweet mouth on her, fuck.”

“Mhm. She sure does. Best head I’ve ever fuckin’ had.” Joel mused, setting up the final camera to face the bed on the side that you were laying on. Once the camera was set, he leaned over the side of the bed, thumb gently brushing across your cheekbone. Even with your mouth stuffed with Tommy’s cock, he could tell you were smiling.

“Bein’ such a good sweet lil’ cockslut for Tommy. Ain’t ya, baby love? Probably s’a nice break for your pretty throat.” He snickered.

All you could do was dumbly nod at his question, taking Tommy’s cock deeper down your throat as he let out a deep grunt, thick fingers curling around the crown of your head. “Fuck, yeah. Such a pretty sight gettin’ to watch your girl suck on my cock like this.” He gently pressed down on your head, silently encouraging you to take more of him down your throat till your nose was pressing against his pubic bone, “seriously, could just lay here for fuckin’ hours.”

Joel fought the urge to roll his eyes at his brothers goading as he leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to the back of your head, whispering, “suckin’ on his cock so prettily, got daddy here nearly leakin’ through his shorts.”

He pulled back slowly, addressing his brother directly, “yeah, well, you ain’t about to steal away all the fun from me, Tommy.” He snipped.

You whimpered softly around Tommy’s cock, drool pooling around the corners of your mouth as you gagged around him, giving yourself a moment to breathe as you slowly pulled your mouth off from his cock with a wet pop!

“Relax, Joel.” Tommy chided, “I wouldn’t dream of takin’ that away from you.”

“C’mere, daddy.” You beckoned him sweetly as you sat up on your knees, scooting over to the edge of the bed as you reached for the hem of his shorts, “wanna gag on your cock again. Get it all nice and wet before you fuck me.” You grasped the hem of his shorts, pulling the elastic back before letting it playfully snap against his hips.

Your eagerness to please him sent blood flowing southwards between his thighs as he leaned over and grasped your chin between his thumb and pointer finger, tilting it upwards so you were looking up at him. “Yeah, baby love? That’s what my eager little cockslut wants, is daddy's cock stuffed down her pretty little throat?” He mused, lips curving into a grin as his thumb gently swiped through a stray strand of drool that was glistening on the corner of your lips.

You nodded dumbly, eyes bright, nearly twinkling under his gaze as you reached for the hem of his shorts once more, leaning in closer, “yeah, daddy.” You cooed, “I want to suck on yours and Tommy’s cock…at the same time. I want to be a good little cockslut for both of you. Do you want that, too?”

It was at that moment that Joel fucking Miller not only forgot his own name, but his birthday and his age. His brain short-circuited, pulse rushing fast in his ears. He nodded, swallowing hard as he regained his composure, “y-yeah.” He stuttered, “fuck—yeah, baby love.”

“Well, I’ll be damned.” Tommy snickered. “You damn near broke my brother, babygirl.”

Something indescribable flashes across your lover's eyes when you teasingly pull his hard cock free, beckoning him to come closer with a simple curl of your fingers, and that devious glint in your eyes.

“Get to it then.” He snips, surprisingly both you and himself at his sudden change of tone.

Tommy immediately picks up on the obvious shift in the room, and opts to fall into his submissive role beneath his brother. When he opens his mouth to speak, Joel shushes him.

“No. You ain’t gettin’ outta this. She wants to suck both our cocks like a good fuckin’ slut and that’s what she’s gonna do, and then I’m goin’ split her apart with my fuckin’ cock and you’re gonna watch and patiently wait for your turn.”

“Daddy—” you start, but Joel isn’t having any of it when he bends over to the side of the bed where you’re sitting back on your thighs looking up at him expectantly. His big, meaty hand comes to grasp your chin, yanking your head upwards as he leans down further, asserting his dominance, “zip it, baby love. Don’t wanna hear a peep from you. Jus’ the pretty sounds your mouth makes when you’re chokin’ on daddy’s cock, you got that?”

“Yes—”

He shakes his head, applying a bit of pressure to your jaw, causing your eyes to widen slightly. “What did I just fuckin’ say? Not a peep. Nod your head if you understand what daddy’s sayin’ to ya.”

You dumbly nod your head in tandem, squeezing your thighs together from his authoritative nature taking over.

“Atta girl. That’s a good cockslut. Now, open up that pretty mouth for daddy and put it to some good fuckin’ use, baby love.”

Your mouth falls open on command, and maybe a bit of shock as well. You’d be lying if you said that you didn’t want to see Joel’s dominant side more often. You loved when he called you a slut, his slut, his whore, his to take. Did this make you a bit of a masochist? Maybe, but that meant fuck all to you when you obediently stuck your tongue out, awaiting his cock.

A satisfied smirk crossed his handsome features at your willingness to obey. It had been years since his time at Brazzers, and even in Miller-Co his partners before you preferred sex with him to be vanilla, and sometimes he would sprinkle in a little dash of dominance, but nothing quite like the display he was putting on now. A phase of him that once laid dormant, was quickly reawakening right before your very eyes. As if a switch inside of him was flipped on, whirring to life.

He grasped the base of his heavy cock between his fist, guiding the fat cockhead to rest along your tongue.

“Wider.” He rasps as he slowly begins to feed you his cock, watching tears spring to the corner of your eyes when he forces you to stretch your jaw further around the thick girth of him. “That’s it.” He preens, “you can fuckin’ take it. You can take all of me down that pretty little throat. Gonna have you chokin’ and droolin’ all over daddy’s fat fuckin’ cock, baby love.”

his freehand comes to rest along the back of your head, nails scraping at your scalp when the tip of his cock nudges the back of your throat. You gag around him, drool leaking from the edges of your stretched mouth as you try to pull back for air, but he doesn’t allow you. “No.” He sternly chides, brows furrowed as he looks down at you, “Breathe through your nose, baby love. You’re doin’ so good for daddy.” A brief moment of softness, and a reminder to you that you were safe. This wasn’t Brazzers, this was your Joel.

Your nostrils flare at his words, tears beginning to spill over your waterline, not due to being in any physical pain, but more-so for the fact that this is an incredibly intense moment for you both to be experiencing.

“That’s it.” He coos, “relax your jaw. Relax, baby love. You’re safe.” He loosens his grip around your head, tenderly stroking your hair in a soothing motion. “That’s my girl.”

Tommy captures the whole thing on camera. From your drool trailing down your chin and throat, to the girth of his cock stretching your mouth open, to the way that you and Joel are looking at one another through your tears. An intense gaze that neither party breaks. You’ve never trusted anyone in your life like you trust your Joel.

You breathe through the discomfort, dragging your nose through the thatch of curls at the base of his cock, lashes fluttering, eyes rolling back when he slowly juts his hips into your face in a gentle rocking motion. He does this for a few thrusts before he finally releases you, slipping his cock out of your mouth as you gasp for air.

His big palms come to rest along your cheeks, wiping away your tears and shushing you with soft praises. Just as he expected, you’re hungry for more, feeling a newfound confidence wash over you as you reach for both of their cocks. The two brothers exchange a brief glance at one another as you take Tommy’s cock into your mouth, wrapping your fist around Joel’s cock to keep him stimulated.

What a sight you are, sitting prettily on your knees, eyes still glassy from the tears you shed around Joel’s cock. Tommy holds the camera between his hands, getting a close up of your mouth working around him, staring directly into the lens with that sultry gaze. Your pussy is drooling for attention, pulsing at the prospect of getting fucked very, very soon.

The room is heady and coated in a fine layer of sex-induced haze that hangs around the three of you like a cloak. Joel is the first to make a move when he feels that you’ve had enough of Tommy’s cock down your throat and pulls you back to him.

You can’t deny how much you’re enjoying being a little fuck toy for the two Miller Brothers, your throat now stuffed full of Joel’s cock as your fist works around Tommy’s. When you feel like you need a breather, you slip Joel’s cock from your mouth, a translucent thread of saliva dangles from the tip of his cock all the way to your glistening lips.

Now with one hand around Tommy, and one hand around Joel, you rub their cock heads all over your cheeks, lightly slapping yourself with the smooth velvet skin with a cockdrunk look plastered all over your pretty face.

“That’s it. That’s the fuckin’ shot of the century right there.” Tommy chuckles, “we got ourselves the prettiest little cockslut on her knees for us, brother.”

“My cockslut.” Joel doesn’t hesitate to correct him. “My pretty little cockslut who is gonna be stuffed fuckin’ full of daddy’s cum soon.” He rasps, shooting you a subtle wink from above.

Your eyes roll back from his words, spreading your knees further apart in a desperate attempt to grind your pussy along the mattress for any form of relief. You’re aching for any attention, and your Joel revels in the sight of you looking like this.

“Please, Daddy. Please.” Are the only words you’re able to get out as you roll your hips against the mattress.

“Please what, baby love? Look at you,” he coos, “filthy lil’ thing rubbing your sweet cunt all over the mattress like a fuckin’ desperate cockslut. Need your pussy stuffed that bad, baby? S’that it? Need daddy’s cock so bad?”

Oh.

You didn’t expect your Joel to be so…mean and condescending, but you welcomed it eagerly with a swift nod of your head.

“‘Atta girl.” He smirks. “Now, drop Tommy’s cock, baby love and come to daddy.” He demands, curling one of his broad fingers at his side in a come hither motion.

You work on autopilot, dropping Tommy’s cock from your grasp and focusing all your attention on Joel.

“Fuckin’ spit on it, baby love. Spit all over daddy’s fat cock and get it nice and wet for me with that pretty mouth of yours. Don’t think we’re gonna need extra lubrication with the way your pussy is droolin’ all over the goddamn mattress.” He snickers. “But just for the hell of it.”

You waste no time to spit a glob of saliva all over his fat cockhead, watching in a transfixed gaze when he wraps his own fist around himself, smearing in your saliva with his precum. “Good girl, baby love. S’good for daddy. M’gonna reward you now, okay?”

You nod expectantly, briefly glancing over at Tommy who is leisurely stroking his own cock to keep himself hard and stimulated while he would patiently wait his turn to fuck you after his brother.

“Thank you, daddy.” You let out a relieved sigh thinking that he finally was going to give you his cock and stretch you open.

“Wouldn’t go thankin’ me so soon, baby love. Haven’t given ya nothin’ yet.” He reminds you with a stern look that sends your heart racing. “Now, on your back for me. Spread your thighs so daddy can see that pretty soaked pussy. Wanna see all of her.”

There’s a soreness and slight ache in your jaw that you haven’t felt in years up until now. Remnants of your tears stained your cheeks in a salty trail. Joel can see the gears turning in your head, the flicker of emotions behind your eyes. You’re not afraid…it’s more of an apprehension if anything as you reach one hand up to gently rub the soreness in your jaw.

Joel clocks in on your discomfort, glancing over at his brother before he leans over and murmurs something to him. Tommy nods in understanding, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and pads out of the room, his heavy cock bobbing between his thighs.

“Baby love, you doin’ okay?” Joel softly asks as his hands gently slide up the expanse of your thighs, easing you onto your back. “…Am I bein’ too much? Baby, I can dial it back, okay? I shoulda—”

“Joel.” You sigh softly, meeting his softened and concerned gaze, “I’m okay, baby. I’m just…feeling a lot right now.”

“I can tell.” He nods in understanding. “Can see it in your eyes, my sweet girl. That’s why we’re gonna take a breather.”

You attempt to sit up on your elbows, feeling shame creep its way up your spine. You’re afraid now, afraid that you’ve disappointed him so soon. That silly brain of yours can be so fucking mean sometimes and you truly wish that you could just turn it off, especially in a moment like this.

“No—no, it’s fine, Joel. I’m fine.” You weakly argue, attempting to put up a façade that he immediately sees right through.

“You ain’t, and that’s okay. I can see the fuckin’ gears whirring in your brain right now, baby.” His argument is soft spoken, not meant to further upset you as his fingers gently play with the tuft of damp curls above your mound.

“I just…I don’t want to disappoint you, okay? I know it seems silly, but I just feel so fucking vulnerable right now.” There’s a moment of relief and weight lifted off your shoulders when you finally put your feelings into words. You’re half expecting a snarky remark with a clipped tone. He can feel you tense up, thighs growing stiff as an unpleasant shiver runs down your spine.

“If you think that this is about to turn into a therapy session where you make everyone in the room to take pity on you, you’re dead fucking wrong, girl. You honestly think your feelings matter? They don’t. Not in this industry, and you knew this when you signed up. No one here is gonna wipe your tears, so I suggest you wipe them yourself and suck it up. You want to get paid, don’t you? Good. The sooner you quit your whining, the sooner you can ice your jaw.”

You can hear the director at Brazzers snapping in your ear now after you tapped out from a gangbang scene that got too intense. Making you feel worse than you already do. But you were young, fresh to the industry and you thought that maybe you could handle it, but the truth was…you couldn’t.

Joel’s eye begins to twitch, his hand on your thigh flexes, knuckles growing tight when he imagines the degradation and cruelty you faced at Brazzers. It split his heart right down the middle, tearing it by the seams when he hears the pain in your tone, and your fear that you have disappointed him. This couldn’t be further from the truth; you could never disappoint him.

“Baby love, you could never disappoint me, okay? Never. Not in a million fuckin’ years. You just being here in this moment with me, is all I can ever ask for, okay? If you’re feeling scared right now, I need you to tell me. If I’m being too much, too aggressive, too dominant, please tell me, okay?”

“My jaw just really fucking hurts.” You blurt out, masking your words with a forced laugh.

“I know it does, baby. Tommy’s getting you some ice, okay? We don’t have to do that again.”

You sit up finally, grasping him by his broad shoulders and pull him up your body so he’s straddling your hips. “I’m not scared, Joel. You’re not being too much, okay? I actually really love to see this dominant side of you, baby.” You press a sweet kiss to his lips. “I want to do that again because I trust you, and want to have these experiences with you.”

“…You do?” He sounds unsure of himself as he kisses you back, winding his arms around your waist as he gently lifts you into his lap, his cock is still hard and wedged between your stomachs. “I won’t dial it back then, but I just want you to know that I’m not going to push you past your limits, but I will always encourage you to go further because I know that you can. I think back to when we first met and you were so fuckin’ scared over how I would react to the list of things that you were uncomfortable doing, and how from that point forward, i’ve wanted to show you that those painful, and fucked up experiences at Brazzers can be turned into something…liberating for you.” He murmurs, tightening his grip around you.

“Baby, I think it’s so fucking sexy that you’re becoming more familiar and comfortable with your dominate side. I like calling you daddy, and I’m really into you calling me a little cockslut and whatever else that dirty mind of yours conjures up. Joel, I feel so safe with you. The safest I have ever felt with any partner. You inspire me to be more open, to feel less shameful of my feelings and dealing with my trauma. You’re literally my fucking rock, you know that?”

Before your Joel can even process your genuine words and utter out a reply, Tommy has returned, clearing his throat to make his presence known as he leans against the doorjamb with a bag of frozen peas in his hand. “Hey, princess.” He cracks a comforting grin, “couldn’t find an ice pack, but I figured frozen peas would do the trick? Oh, and you’re insanely fucking good at deepthroating—my god.” He gushes earnestly.

You stifle a giggle, looking over Joel’s shoulder. “You’re not just saying that to fuck with me, right Tommy? Am I really that good?”

He laughs, pushing himself off the side of the door before he joins the two of you on the bed. “Babygirl, I am a man who never lies. You’re head game is un-fucking-real.”

“He’s right, baby love. You were chokin’ on daddy’s cock like a pro.” Joel adds with a reassuring smile. “M’so proud of you, baby love. Always so proud of my girl.”

You feel the heat bloom over your cheeks at both of their praises as your confidence slowly begins to return. You press a chaste kiss to Joel’s lips before reaching over his shoulder for the bag of peas.

Joel kisses you back, keeping you secured in his arms as you ice the sore spot on your jaw. Both he and Tommy are beyond considerate and patient and you truly couldn’t be anymore grateful than you feel right now.

Once the soreness in your jaw has considerably dissipated, you hand the now half frozen peas back to Tommy and wind your hand through the back of Joel’s sweaty curls, kissing him with more conviction, “okay, daddy. I’m ready for you to split me open with your cock now. I can take it, I want to take it. Want you to give me your worst.” You mumble against his lips, feeling his cock jump between your pressed bodies from your lewd verbiage.

“Oh, daddy’s gonna give you his fuckin’ worst, alright.” He growls, kissing you deeper while his hands slide under your ass, squeezing the soft flesh of your cheeks firmly. “Gonna make you beg for daddy’s cock, baby love.”

-

The room feels hot, ten times hotter than it’s ever felt as Joel purposely edges you with his cock, pressing the girth of him inside of you before he draws his hips back out. You’re a sobbing, blubbering mess, soaked in sweat. Each time he thrusts into you, his cockhead punches your cervix and it’s a torturous pattern that leaves your thighs quivering at the angle they’re spread at.

Tommy is kneeled behind your head, camera between his hands again while your hand is wrapped loosely around his cock, stroking it at an erratic pace as your back bows from the mattress, hips rolling forward to meet Joel’s periodic thrusts.

“D—daddy, please! Please—fuck.” You let out a whine. You sound so desperate, so needy to come, and you’re right where Joel wants you.

“Aw cute.” He coos in a condescending tone, “You think you’re just gonna get what you want jus’ cus’ you asked daddy so nicely? That’s not how this works, baby love. You’re gonna take whatever daddy fuckin’ gives ya, and you’re gonna act grateful for daddy’s cock.”

“Better listen to him, babygirl.” Tommy warns you from above. “Think you mighta bruised his ego earlier.”

Your eyes flit upwards to meet Tommy’s smirking gaze before they land back on Joel, right down to where he has one hand gripping the inside of your thigh, keeping it pressed open to his liking, and the other rests around the base of his cock. He’s only rewarding you with half of his girth, pulling out completely when he feels your pussy clench down around him. He knows you’re so fucking close, and yet he refuses to allow you the satisfaction to come.

“But—but daddy!” You sob, “you said you weren’t upset with me for saying that Tommy might have you beat! Daddy, please! I’m sorry! Please just let your good girl come.” You begged him.

“Yeah, well, daddy might have lied earlier, baby love. Daddy’s ego is a little bruised over the fact that his perfect girl would even think that Tommy can eat her sweet little pussy better than I can.” He chuckles, eyes casting downwards to your tight little hole pulsing around air as he rubs his wet cockhead all over your puffy clit. “You misunderstood, baby love. Daddy isn’t upset, he’s just a little…angry s’all.”

Your eyes roll back from the sensation, letting out another pathetic sob when he taps his cockhead a few times against your already sensitive clit causing your hips to jolt upwards. “Daddy, I’m so sorry! Please, daddy. I promise I’ll be a good little cockslut for you! I’ll never make a silly comment like that again! You’re the best, daddy.”

“Oh, baby.” He sighs, almost as if he does pity you, “I don’t think you are sorry at all, baby love. And I don’t think you’re grateful for daddy’s cock and what he’s giving you.” He tuts, shaking his head. “Tommy, do you think she’s bein’ grateful right now?”

“Not at all, brother. She’s bein’ an ungrateful little slut.” He taps the side of your cheek with his cock. “So fuckin’ ungrateful.”

“No—no! That’s not true! Daddy, I am so grateful for your cock! I am!” You try to sound convincing, but Joel is unimpressed.

“Thas’ all Y’got for me, baby love? Mmm. I think you need a little encouragement.” He decides as he slips his cock back into your tight, hugging warmth all the way to the hilt. Punching the air from your lungs as you gasp his name.

Your words come out fragmented and broken when he suddenly draws his hips back and thrusts them forward without warning, knocking your body back against the mattress. He does this again, and again. Each thrust increases in speed till he’s jackhammering you into the mattress, shaking the frame against the wall with how much force he’s exerting. His one hand stays firmly clamped around your thigh while the other is splayed against your mound, thumb firmly pressed into your clit, working it in fast, vigorous circles.

“Tell daddy that you’re grateful for his cock, baby love! Tell him that you’re grateful for everything that he’s givin’ you! Cause if you don’t? Daddy will pull out right now, and you don’t fuckin’ get to come.” His voice is gravelly, scratching your eardrums just right with how primal he sounds.

“I—I’m so grateful for your cock, daddy! S-so grateful! Thank you, daddy! Thank you!”

“Yeah, thas’ right, baby love. Thas’ fuckin’ right. Perfect little cockslut is so-so grateful for her daddy’s cock. Fuck yeah, you are.” He grunts deeply, giving you one last solid thrust before he slips out completely. You don’t even get a chance to recover before you’re being flipped over onto your stomach by a new set of hands.

Tommy grips you firmly by the hips, yanking your ass upwards as your face falls flat against the mattress. He fists his cock a few times and uses his thumb and forefinger to guide his cock into you, watching the way your body immediately sucks him until his length is fully inside of you and his hips are firmly pressed against your ass. “Always such a tight fuckin’ fit, babygirl.” He preens as he draws his hips back before thrusting them forward.

Your mouth falls open into an ‘o’ shape, eyes glazed over and blissed out completely. Joel watches from behind the camera as Tommy grabs a fistful of your hair and yanks your head backwards, forcing you to push yourself up on your forearms.

Joel intently watches the way your ass recoils against Tommy’s hips with each heavy, skin slapping thrust that he delivers you. His voice is still commanding, even when he’s not directly next to you.

“You take his cock so well, baby love. Fuckin’ love seein’ you gettin’ fucked like this. You gonna come all over his cock? Yeah, you are. Only when daddy tells you too, right?”

Your head snaps over in his direction, a fucked out smile tugging across your lips when you meet his gaze, “y—yes, daddy. Only when you tell me too.”

“Thas’ it. There’s my good little obedient cockslut.” He grins proudly, even giving you a cheeky little thumbs up before you're lost in the moment all over again. And when Joel gives you the permission to come, you’re gushing around Tommy’s cock on command. You don’t moan Tommy’s name, however. Oh, no. The only words you can form are daddy.

Tommy slips out, letting your body flop to the mattress like a limp fish before his hands pry your cheeks apart so he can watch your release pulse and drool down the seam of your pussy. He moves out of the way when Joel approaches the bed and hands the camera off to his brother before his calloused hands are gently maneuvering you onto your back.

“Baby love, I wanna try somethin’ with you, okay? Are you up for it, or is my girl positively fucked out now?” He asks teasingly, gently pinching your hips between his fingers.

You let out a squeal, lazily moving to swat his hands away when he pinches your skin. “Mmm…I’m so fucked out right now, daddy, but what do you want to try?”

He drops his hands from your hips and rests them between the apex of your thighs so his thumbs can spread your inner lips open, “wanna make you squirt, baby love. I know you were told before that you couldn’t, but that’s not true. You can, and I’m going to get you there but only if you want to, okay?”

“Y—you want to make me squirt? Daddy…I—I can’t. They told me I couldn’t and I believed them. I love you, I really do. But I can’t.”

“Baby love, you can. The only reason why you couldn’t before is because there was a mental block you were facing. You weren’t with the right people at the time. It wasn’t even your fault that you were fired, okay? Those fuckwads didn’t care enough to cater to your needs, but I’m here. I want you to experience this because it’s so fuckin’ special, baby. It’s nothing you’ve ever felt before.” Joel reassures you.

“And I’m gonna be your personal cheerleader, babygirl. Gonna hype you up the whole time, okay?” Tommy says from behind the camera, kneeling on the opposite side of where Joel is positioned between your thighs. “You can even hold my hand, if ya want.” He adds gently.

“What if you’re wrong, daddy? What if I truly can’t? What if they were right and—”

“Shh.” He says softly, eyes locking onto yours in a gentle yet intense stare, “they weren’t right, baby love. They were just a bunch of jackasses that couldn’t see your potential like I can. And you know what? This ain’t about me. This is about you gaining back your autonomy that they fuckin’ stole from you. You trust me, don’t you? Let me do this for you, please.”

“Joel.” Your voice waivers, fresh brewing tears threatening to spill over, Of course I trust you. I—I want to prove them wrong. I want to prove myself wrong.”

“That’s my girl. That’s my fuckin’ girl.” He preens.

-

It starts off with just two of his fingers; middle and ring finger knuckle deep, curling and shallowly thrusting inside of you. It’s not enough, but Joel doesn’t give up. He orders Tommy to grab one of your favorite toys, a hitachi wand. Joel uses his freehand to turn it to the lowest setting before gently placing it directly against your clit. The sensation is immediately too much and your body is naturally trying to escape, but Joel keeps your hips centered and on the mattress.

“I got you, baby love, daddy’s got you. You’re doing so good for me already. So-so fuckin’ good.”

You’re a mess of moans, a mixture of dripping profanities as you claw at the sheets, feeling your thighs begin to quiver and shake all over again. The feeling is more intense, more real than anything you have felt in this setting before. The coil in your stomach is pulled tighter, and tighter, and tighter.

Tommy reaches for one of your hands, letting your clammy fingers interlock through his as you grip onto him for dear life.

“I—can’t, daddy! It’s too much! Please—it’s too much!” You sob, tears making their way down your cheeks for what feels like the millionth time tonight. You’re surely going to need to hydrate extra after this.

“Yes you can, baby love! You can! I believe in you, Tommy believes in you. You’re so fuckin’ close I can feel it now. Can’t you? The burning hot coil being pulled tight in your tummy? Can’t you feel that?” He asks over the whir and buzz of the vibrator and the wet squelch of your pussy around his fingers, crooking them inwards. Your hips jolt, and you let out a scream that hopefully Joel’s neighbors can’t hear. It’s a scream not of pain, but relief, releasing all of your self-doubt and negativity that you had felt ever since you were wrongfully fired from Brazzers.

Joel Miller was showing you just how fucking amazing your body was, and the limits it could be pushed to. He was proving to you that there wasn’t anything you possibly couldn’t do. No challenge you couldn’t face. Fuck what Brazzers thought about you, or the judgement from your parents and the societal pressure you faced every single day as a woman. Your body was beautiful, powerful, and capable.

“There you go, baby! There you go!” Your Joel announced in excitement, his heart swelling with nothing but pride for his baby love. “Let go, my girl. You’re safe. I’ve got you.” He promised, crooking his fingers faster till he felt your body spasm, and a gush of wet spray coated his hand, forearm and everywhere in between.

Your ears were ringing, mind going fuzzy and Joel’s and Tommy’s voices sounded muffled as you saw stars dot your vision. Once your body started, you couldn’t stop even after Joel slipped his fingers out of you and tossed the vibrator off to the side, your pussy continued to squirt along the mattress till there was nothing left.

He was right, Joel was always right. Squirting for the first time was like nothing you had experienced before, and it felt so fucking liberating.

You faintly felt his warm lips between your thighs, lips suckling on your clit before they kissed their way up your body. Your eyes were half open when his hands cradled your face between them, thumbs stroking and brushing away your free falling tears. “You did it, my girl. I knew you could do it.” He whispered, sweat slick forehead pressed against your own, “m’so fuckin’ proud of you, baby love. So proud.”

Tommy flipped the camera off, setting it down on the nearby table before he left the room to give you and Joel a moment of privacy, and to grab some much deserved refreshments and snacks.

Joel gently eased you into his lap, letting you melt into his arms as you let out a wet sob with your face buried into the juncture of his neck. Your whole body was shaking as you clawed at his back while his strong hands gently rubbed soothing circles into your skin. “Shh, shh. It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. Let it all out. I got you.” He murmured against your sweat soaked hair as he held you close.

“Did I really…?” You murmured into his neck, loosening your grip around him.

“You did, baby love. You did so well.” He whispered, gently beginning to rock you in his arms to further soothe you as you gradually came down from your high.

“Thank you, daddy. I-I love you so much.” You sniffled, pulling your face back from his neck so you could look into his eyes.

“No need to thank me, baby love. That was all you. I was jus’ there to help get you there. I love you so much, my sweet girl.”

You shook your head, disagreeing with his sentiment but before you could speak, he shushed you with a kiss. How could you really argue with him, then?

Tommy returned with three waters and a candy bar for you, flopping down on the bed with a soft oof.

The three of you sat in a comfortable silence while Joel made sure you were hydrated and even fed you small pieces of the candy bar so that you wouldn’t immediately have a sugar crash.

The two brothers exchanged a murmur of words before Joel untangled your limbs from his own and coaxed you up from the bed. He stayed glued to your side as he guided you to the bathroom and all the way into the shower. He made sure the temperature of the stream was just how you liked it.

He gently washed between your thighs, knowing how sensitive you were still feeling and didn’t want to overdo it. You loved that he was always so adamant on aftercare. It might have actually been his favorite part outside of being connected inside of your body. He loved to provide and take care of you in these especially intimate moments.

“How’s my girl feeling?” He asked with a soft rasp under the warm stream.

“Like I’m floating on a cloud.” You giggled softly, winding your arms around his neck. “My pussy feels a little numb though, I’m not gonna lie.”

“Mmm.” He hummed, wrapping his arms around you with his hands resting gently at your lower back, “that’s to be expected. She took a real poundin’ tonight. You’re gonna sleep like a fuckin’ baby soon.” He added with a warm chuckle.

“Fuck.” You laughed, “don’t I know it. I can probably sleep for days after that.”

“Tommy is outside startin’ a fire for us. Told him to grab one of my joints from the garage. I Figured you’d enjoy decompressing after all that.” He reached one hand up to gently rest it along the side of your head as he pulled you in closer.

“You know me too well, daddy. That sounds absolutely perfect to me.”

He grins boyishly at your response, leaning in to brush his lips against yours. “I’ll meet y’all down there in a bit, okay? Gonna finish up here and strip the sheets.”

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks when he mentioned the now soiled sheets as your teeth briefly knocked together in the wet kiss. “Sorry about that…I didn’t think it would be that much.”

“Ain’t nothin’ to be sorry for. They’re just sheets, baby love. No need to worry.” He reassured you, deepening the kiss briefly before he slowly pulled away.

“I still can’t believe I was actually able to squirt. It feels so fucking validating that after all these years I now know that I never was the problem. I cannot thank you enough for showing me that they were wrong, Joel. I—I wish I had the words to explain how grateful I am for you.”

“Of course they were wrong, baby love. They never deserved you in the first place. You don’t need to explain how grateful you are, okay? I feel it…here.” He reaches for your hand, gently placing it along the left side of his chest, right against his heart.

“You’re going to make me cry again, asshole!” You said playfully, kissing him again just because you could.

He laughed into your lips, bringing his freehand to rest around your face as he kissed you again, and again, and again. “I’m jus’ speaking the truth, baby love.”

“I know, baby. You’re the most honest man I know. Well, outside of Tommy.”

-

You and Joel part ways after showering. He heads back into the studio room while you walk to your shared bedroom to change into something comfy for the rest of the evening. You snatch one of his hoodies, slipping it over your head before grabbing a fresh pair of his boxer briefs and pull them on over your hips and ass.

When you step outside into the backyard, Tommy is already puffing away on the joint he rolled while he uses a spare stick to stoke the fire. He smiled warmly at you, beckoning you over to join him on the outdoor couch.

“There she is. Lil’ miss squirtin’ queen!” He teases as you plop down beside him, giving his shoulder a gentle push.

He passes the joint off to you between his fingers, letting his arm rest behind your head along the back of the couch. “How are ya feeling?”

“Honestly?” You look over at him as you take a long drag, tucking your feet up under your thighs to get comfortable, “I feel like I can conquer the whole fucking world right now.”

“Fuck yeah, you can! Women are soo fucking powerful, babygirl. Y’all are truly some forces to be reckoned with!”

You blow the smoke upwards into the clear night sky, resting your head against his shoulder before passing the joint back to him. “I just feel so…free right now Tommy, y’know? I don’t even know how to put it into words.”

“Girl, you literally soaked the entire fuckin’ mattress. You should feel as free as a bird right now! I know Joel is proud of you, but I am too. I remember the first time I made a girl squirt waaay back in the good ole’ Brazzer’s days. Shit was so intense and the chick I was fuckin’ literally said that she was in love with me! Ain’t that crazy?”

“Aw, Tommy, thank you. I’m really glad that you were there to experience it with me. And shit, no way? Did you tell her that you loved her back?”

“Nah.” He shook his head, clearing his throat as he ashed the joint off to the side, “I uh—I really didn’t know what to say. Felt terrible after the fact because she started to profusely apologize…and I guess I didn’t understand why? I mean, it slipped out in the heat of the moment, man. I don’t think she meant it.”

I really hope she didn’t.

You sat up, focusing your attention on him fully when you could feel his tone shift to somewhere uncertain. “Hey, are you okay?…is there something you want to talk about? I’m here for you, okay?”

He let out a dry laugh shaking his head before he looked over at you finally. “Yeah, there is somethin’ I wanna talk to you about. I jus’ don’t know how to phrase it.”

“Take your time, Tommy. There’s no rush.”

“Okay so, Joel doesn’t know about this yet because I really don’t know how to tell him, but one of my long term onscreen partners is planning on quitting Miller-Co entirely…because of me.” Tommy nervously chewed on the inside of his cheek.

“Tommy, what do you mean someone at Miller-Co wants to quit because of you? What…happened?” Tommy was a good guy in your eyes. You couldn’t imagine him ever making someone feel uncomfortable or god forbid—

“It ain’t bad, okay? I promise I didn’t do anythin’ bad.” He took a deep breath, exhaling before continuing, “so, it started with her starting to make comments about you and Joel and the dynamic of your relationship. She didn’t say nothin’ bad, I promise. She er—was hintin’ that she wanted to be in a relationship with me essentially?”

“Oh.” You said softly, beginning to understand where this conversation was potentially leading into. “I’m assuming you didn’t feel the same way as she did?”

“No.” He sighed, shaking his head. “I didn’t feel the same way. I tried to explain to her that I have never felt a romantic connection to anyone ever and that I was sorry.”

“Wait…never?” You were careful with your choice of words, reading between the lines to figure out exactly what he was saying.

“You can’t tell Joel any of this, okay? I—I don’t know how to tell him, babygirl. I know he would never judge me but I’m jus’—afraid.”

You reach for his hand, interlocking your fingers together to show him that he had your full support. “Tommy, it’s okay. Your brother isn’t going to scold you for this.”

“No, you’re right, he won’t. Anyway, I tried to tell her that I never have had a crush on anyone in my life and I have never been in love. She thought I was just making an excuse! Why would I make an excuse like that? Doesn’t she realize that if I could feel the same way for her that I would already?” He said exasperatedly, waving his freehand around to emphasize the point he was trying to make.

“Tommy, are you…aromantic?” You asked suddenly.

A sheepish look washed over his face, his cheeks turning as red as the flames from the fire, “yeah, I am.” He mumbled quietly.

“Oh, hon. It’s okay, that’s nothing for you to feel ashamed for. You know that, right?” You squeezed his hand gently, stroking your thumb along the outside of his hand.

“Fuck, I know it’s nothing for me to feel ashamed about! I know—but, I feel that way regardless. She literally thinks I’m some cold, heartless prick now! We’ve literally been fucking consistently for over a year and I thought we had…y’know, developed a mutual friendship.”

“I understand, Tommy. But you are not some cold heartless prick. There’s nothing wrong with you. She just…doesn’t see it the way that you and I do.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He sighs, sinking back against the couch cushions as he looks into the flames, “you’re the first person that I’ve ever come out to. I mean, my other queer friends know that I’m bisexual, but no one knows that I’m aromantic as well.”

“I understand how you feel, okay? I really do. I’m bisexual, too. I’ve faced similar ridicule for it ever since I came out. I’ve had people tell me to my face that I’m either straight or gay and that I have to pick between the two? It’s fucking ridiculous. I can’t imagine what it’s like to be a queer man and feeling like there’s something wrong with you and the way that you live your life because of it.”

His lips part in shock as the joint dies between his fingers. He turns to face you completely, feeling a newfound sense of connection towards you that immediately springs tears to his eyes. “Wait, you’re queer too? I uh—I had a feeling, but I never want to be that person to assume, you know? When did you come out, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Yeah, hon. I’m queer too. And really? What gave me away?” You stifled a giggle, leaning further into his side. “I came out on my 21st birthday actually. My friends took me to my first gay bar in LA and I guess I just blurted it out after a few too many shots? Everyone was so fucking supportive. It brought me to tears! When did you come out?”

“Mmm.” He thought about it momentarily, tapping his fingers against his chin, “there wasn’t like a specific thing that gave you away, I just had this feeling when we first met that you were a fruity lil’ thing.” He laughed warmly. “I came out shortly after I flew out to LA to join Joel at Brazzers. I ended up dating one of my costars for a hot minute. He was my first boyfriend, but I didn’t really understand the whole concept of romance or how to make him feel like I loved him? Our breakup was pretty fuckin’ ugly. Told all his friends that I was a heartless tool and that was the end of that. Think I realized I was aromantic when I flat out told him that he was my best friend but my heart…didn’t get a boner for him? Poor choice of words, but I’ve never really been a serious guy to begin with.”

“Interesting.” You mused with a grin, “yeah, probably wasn’t the wisest move to tell him that your heart didn’t get a boner for him…but that was the only way that you felt you could explain it. Did you guys ever talk about it or reconnect?”

“Actually, yeah! We did. He texted me the other day actually to see how I was doing and we got into a conversation about it. He said it made a lot of sense and what not. I guess I’m just struggling with people not understanding that I’m still this…lovable guy, y’know? I just have never had any interest in love or being in love. Why’s that so hard for people to accept?”

“That’s great that you guys reconnected! Tommy, that’s wonderful! I think people have a problem with it because they want to place you into this perfect box so that you can blend in with the rest of society. They’re going to think you're weird because there’s this stigma around aromantic people being cold and heartless, when y’all are incredibly lovable people, just not in the romantic way.”

“Dude, tell me about it! Society is always telling us how we gotta act, dress, and live our lives! So fuckin’ fed up with it. You mentioned earlier how you can’t imagine how difficult it must be to be a queer man, and you hit the nail right on the head, babygirl. I’m constantly…having this internal battle with myself. Feelin’ like I don’t even belong in the community, y’know?” He sniffled, wiping his face along the sleeve of his shirt in an attempt to hide his tears.

“Hey, you absolutely do belong in the queer community. And anyone who tries to shun you is a bigoted asshole that should really do some self reflecting in their personal life before they try to tear down another marginalized person who is simply just fucking living their life and hurting no one!” You felt his pain and frustration from his words and all you really wanted to do was wrap him up in a big hug.

Tommy is momentarily distracted from a flicker of movement in the kitchen and flash of black fur jumping up onto the counter to see what Joel is up to. He smiles briefly, remembering the last time he caught his older brother putzing around the kitchen making munchies and singing a fucking tune like the lovesick teddy bear that he truly was.

“He really loves you.” He murmured softly.

“What?” You’re confused by the sudden flip of the conversation till you follow the path of his eyes and see your Joel flipping something inside of the pan before he picks Artemis up from the counter, kisses her head and gently places her on his shoulder.

“My brother. He really loves you.” Tommy reiterated with a cheeky grin. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen him dancing around the kitchen like that. Whenever he gets really caught up in his feelings and emotions, he immediately starts cooking. The last time he did that was for—”

“Carmen?” You question softly, already knowing the answer.

“Yeah.” He nods, squeezing your hand gently when he notices your eyes growing glassy under the warm glow of the fire. “And…Sarah.”

“Oh cool! So now I’m gonna cry some more!” You laugh trying to process the sudden surge of emotions you’re feeling. “Tommy, I love that man so fucking much. He’s truly…heaven sent, y’know?”

He smiles knowingly, dropping your hand so he can wrap his arm around you, giving you a gentle squeeze. “Yeah, babygirl. And you’re the rite of his movement.”

“You—don’t bring Hozier up in a moment like this! Oh my god!” You laugh, turning your face into his shoulder.

The sliding back door from the kitchen opens moments later and your Joel appears with a whole ass stack of freshly made heart shaped pancakes on a plate, smothered in butter and drizzled perfectly in sticky syrup. Artemis is still proudly perched on his shoulder like a damn parakeet, her tail curved around his neck as he approaches the fire pit.

“Baby love!” He sings songs. “Made y’all somethin’ real special! Hope you’re in the mood for pancakes because—” he frowns when he sees the glassy look in his brother's eyes and your own when you peek over at him. “Why do y’all both look like you’re about to burst into tears? Not when I crafted up the best goddamn pancakes in all of Austin!” He attempts to lighten the mood as he gently sits down alongside you, setting the plate along his lap.

“It’s my fault.” Tommy is quick to speak up. “We got into a deep conversation and I uh—got emotional and then baby love got emotional.”

Joel raises a brow and it appears that even Artemis is listening as she leaps down from his shoulder and trots across the back of the couch to nuzzle against your head.

“What kinda deep conversation did y’all get into?”

“Well, first I just wanna let you know that Natalie is planning on quitting Miller-Co…because of me.” Tommy whispered the last part.

“Oh, for fuck sakes! Tommy, what did you do?” Joel lets out an exasperated sigh as he pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

“Baby.” You speak up, “hear him out, okay?” You reach for his hand. “Tommy really needs our support right now.”

He sighs, grasping your hand in his palm with his fingers interlocked through yours. “I’m listenin.’”

“I promise I didn’t do anything wrong, Joel. I swear. Look, I’ve been meaning to tell you this for a long time now, I jus’—I’ve been nervous to-do so.” Tommy starts, looking over at his brother as he gathers his thoughts, “so uh, I’m—aromantic and bisexual.”

Joel doesn’t even look the least bit surprised at his brother coming out. His eyes soften as he responds with a small nod, “that ain’t nothin’ you gotta worry about, little brother. I’ve been havin’ a feelin’ for a while now. S’okay. I love you jus’ the same.”

Tommy breaks immediately, his vision blurring with tears when his brother reaches across to gently squeeze his shoulder. “I—I had no idea that you already…knew.” He sniffles.

“Course not, Tommy. M’jus’ a real observant person, y’know? So, is this what’s gotten you all in a fuss? Can I safely assume that Natalie wants to quit because she found out that you’re queer and she has feelings for you that you can’t return?” Joel read between the lines at ease, feeling a surge of anger in his veins that one of their own colleagues made his kin feel a certain way. Especially when the values instilled at Miller-Co were accepting of everyone. No matter their race, gender, sexuality, etc.

“God dammit, you’re smart.” Tommy chuckles. “Yeah, basically that’s why she wants to quit. Fuckin’ ridiculous if I’m being honest.”

“Well, I don't like someone like her working for us anyway. If she wants to quit, then by all means, let her quit. Good riddance, honestly. Damn shame too. Miller-Co doesn’t have a place for small-minded people like her.” Joel is quick to defend and validate his brother's feelings without missing a beat.

“Okay, okay, you don’t needa go off on her or anythin’ , okay? I’ll handle it tomorrow or somethin.’” Tommy reassured him.

“Alright. I’ll let you handle it.” Joel nods, focusing his attention back on you. “So, Tommy comin’ out to ya is what’s gotten you all teary eyed again, baby love?”

You nod, looking over at him with a small smile. “Yeah, and…Joel?”

“Hm?”

“I’m bisexual…too.”

“Guess that makes me the token straight of the family, huh?” He lightly jokes before squeezing your hand, “well, if that’s the case, I love you all the same too, baby love.”

-

The following morning Joel wakes up long before you do. He heads into town, visiting a local business that was queer owned and known for their assortment of pride flag stickers and other merch. He purchases an aromantic pride bumper sticker and a bisexual bumper sticker. He doesn’t wait to get home to put them on the bumper of his truck. He carefully peels the stickers off and places them in a spare spot on the already heavily decorated bumper. He takes a step back, arms crossed over his chest with the biggest smile on his face.

Austin’s token straight, and biggest ally has done it once again, folks!

Banners made by the lovely @saradika-graphics 🩷

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#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #daddy!joel miller #dom!joel miller #pornstar!joel #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller tlou #joel miller the last of us

[nvuy]

im like itching for a boothill x single parent romance. LIKE WHAT IF they moved in next to boothill and everyones like "naww dont go near that guy hes scary and shit" but when kid sees boothill they get so intrigued by boothill they try to get close to him every time they see and hes just... scared? or paranoid, so he doesnt let them close. and then one time kid was still asking questions to boothill and stuff, parent was rushing looking for them, they see them, and then goes like "omf sir im so sorry my kid bothered you" and then boothill is like "nah its ok id do anyt- no what i mean we just met its cool btw lmao"

yk that one scene in a goofy movie where max get laughed at on the bleachers and then roxanne comes and picks him up and asks if he’s alright and then max starts babbling absolute gibberish yep

“So, how strong are you, mister?”

Boothill’s fingers are pressed against the girl’s tiny tiny hands. So small and little and squishy, and he seriously contemplated squishing her until she popped. His palm is cold against hers, and she giggles at the difference in size.

“Hmm…” He leans back on his heels in his squatting position in the front garden. He taps his chin in thought. “Don’t gotta clue. Anythin’ you need me to pick up?”

The girl gasps and there’s stars in her eyes. “Can you pick me up?” She stretches out her arms towards him.

He cracks a grin at her and ruffles her hair. “I dunno. You might be a bit heavy.” He’s teasing her, of course, but she pouts.

“At least try.”

“Alright, little lady.” He hooks his arms underneath hers and hoists her up easily, hands locked at her ribs. “How’s that? Good enough for ya?”

She hums thoughtfully, a cheeky smile on her face as she, too, taps her chin. “Now you gotta carry me for the entire day.”

It was his turn to pout. “N’aw. That’s no fair.”

“There you are!” There’s a rustle of footsteps and the jangling of keys to his left that made him stiffen for a moment, before your familiar face comes into view. Your eyes flit from him to your daughter. “I’ve been calling you for lunch.”

Oh, great Heavens.

“Hi, gorg– uh…” The ranger stumbles over his tongue and zips his lips shut when a small smile stretches into your lips. “We were– I was just– uh…”

Your daughter looks upset when Boothill gently places her back down in the grass.

“Just horsin’ ‘round,” he finishes. “I was just passin’ by, y’see? And your lil’ princess chased me down.”

You clear your throat, staring down at your shoes for a moment and trying to hide the heat rising from your neck to your face.

“I’m sorry about her,” you say to him. “She’s, um… hard to control.”

“That’s a good thing,” he whispers down to your daughter. “Means you got a free spirit.” He pokes her in the side and she giggles.

You give him another look and his eyes snap to the left, and a casual tune leaves his lips in the form of a whistle.

You offer a hand to the girl. “I made pasta.”

Your daughter practically barrels into your side, almost knocking you over with how her small arms wrap around your hips—she used to only be able to reach your knees. God, time flies.

Your eyes flit to the ranger once more. “Um… I made a lot so… if you’re hungry…” Your eyes trail down to his stomach before you swallow. “Do you get hungry?”

He studies your face for a moment with a pensive look.

Then, Boothill snorts. “Nah, sugar.”

Your face is burning. “Right. Well, you’re welcome to come in, anyway.”

“Oh, please have lunch with us!” your daughter all but begs. Her hands have now interlocked in front of her in a pleading gesture, and she’s offering him her most intense puppy eyes. “I can show you my room.”

He’s immediately swayed. “Well, it’s hard to say no to a cute thing like you.” He reaches down and pinches her cheek.

He watches you blink, perhaps taken aback for a moment.

He thinks you’re so beautiful, even if the apron you’re wearing is covered in sauce stains.

He almost starts cheering when you visibly perk up. “You’ll join us?”

“’Course! I’d do anythin’ for y–” He stops himself by digging his teeth into his tongue. “I mean… if ya insist.”

He can tell you’re biting the inside of your cheeks to keep yourself from smiling too wide. You pucker your lips and look elsewhere, face dark with blood.

Your daughter is strangely silent. He notices she’s enamoured with a bright blue butterfly floating along one of the bushes nearby.

“Cool.” You can’t think of anything else to really say. You rock on your heels absentmindedly. “I’d like that.”

His smile grows impossibly wider. “Would ya now?” He taps your nose once before he bends down to greet your daughter again. “Lead the way, little lady.”

“One sec,” you mumble, digging in your pockets.

You fumble for your ring of keys before you throw them quite badly at the cyborg. He manages to catch them well enough, fingers frozen over the steel.

Huh?

“It’s, um… the purple key. For the front door.”

Sure enough, one of the keys was coated in a deep purple.

Your daughter has already begun sprinting towards the front door. You’re half keeping a close eye on her through your peripherals, but your gaze wanders from her to watch him closely.

“I have a spare so… you can have it,” you continue slowly. Was this… too forward?

Boothill eyes you for a moment. A hand moves to his hips.

Then, in a flash, he pulls the purple key off of the ring it’s attached to and gently tosses it back at you. You struggle to catch them, but you manage with shaky hands and stuff them back into your pocket.

“‘Ppreciate it, pretty thing. You know just how to make a man swoon.”

He blows you a kiss with the steel to his lips and then tips his hat. He catches up with your daughter in no time, sweeping her off her feet and letting her slot the key in the lock to open the door.

You realise when he’s staring at you, one hand holding your own front door open expectantly, that you’re standing out in your front garden gawking at him like an idiot.

You quickly follow him inside, and he closes the door behind you. He’s quick to swing an arm around your waist when you guide him into the kitchen.

#$. love mail #$. anon #boothill x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #boothill hsr #boothill #this blog is so boothill centric it’s disgusting … please stop …… #the damage this man has done to my brain is irreversible

[souryogurt64]

Brendon describing “Emperor’s New Clothes” as the sequel to “This Is Gospel” is actually fucking crazy. Because “This is Gospel” is Brendon asking Spencer to leave the band Spencer started with Ryan because Spencer developed significant addiction issues, and let Panic become Brendon’s project instead. Which, “If you love me let me go,” is a pretty fair thing to ask. 

But then “Emperor’s New Clothes” is bonkers???? Like this is Part 2. And it’s a song with lines like “Finders keepers, losers weepers” and “I see what’s mine and take it.” 

Then on Genius Brendon annotated it with things like “I got [the band] now. This is mine, and I’m not letting it go,” “That’s what I’m talking about: taking it all back for myself,” “This is a 100% autobiographical track,” “Now I am Panic! At The Disco, and that’s what I wanted to come across… I feel like I’ve deserved this for a long time… I’m going to step up and take what’s mine.” 

He even annotated the line about having “sycophants” as saying that is the world he would build if he was king. It is SO crazy. Who talks like this. Who acts like this. Not to mention the fact that Brendon had already kicked Spencer out 3 years previously anyway, so it wasn’t even NEW—but around the time of this track being released he had demoted Dallon Weekes to touring-only. 

And like this is based off the Emperor’s New Clothes fairy tale so like there is a degree of self awareness here and still just absolutely flying in the face of it anyway. What the hell 

#brendon urie #panic at the disco

[vinvantae]

Enemies (occasionally to lovers) Scenarios with the current grid

with prompts from @koishua

Mostly angst with no resolution, but there’s a bit of fluff sprinkled throughout. Enjoy!

Thank you to @percervall for beta reading for me!! You’re a star ⭐️

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#1 Max Verstappen

The breeze was cool against your skin as you gripped the railing - looking down out over the city below, the music of the nightclub increased for a moment as someone joined you, before being muffled with a quiet click of the door. Your shoulders tensed, you knew exactly who it was - you’d come out here to escape him and he’d followed you.

“Go back inside, Max.” Your jaw clenched, but his footsteps continued until he was beside you, back leaning against the railing. “Didn’t you fucking hear me?”

“I did.” He hummed, arms folded across his chest.

“Then why are you still here?”

His silence caused you to snap your head to look at him, throw a glare in his direction - expecting the same look back. But his eyes were soft, gently flickering across your face - you watched as he swallowed heavily, daring to let his gaze fall to your lips.

Your voice was venomous when you spoke again. "Don't you dare look at me that way. Not now, after every vile thing we've done to each other."

“Listen…”

“No. You don’t get to do this, Max… it’s not fair,” you snapped, “You don’t get to bully me and talk shit about me and then all of a sudden decide you fancy me! We’re not little kids, you can’t grab me by the pigtails and push me down just because you have feelings. You should go.”

Every fibre of Max’s being wanted to protest, tell you that you were wrong - that he wanted to make things right between you, but your tear soaked cheeks were too much for him to handle. So instead he mumbled a quite sorry before leaving you alone with your thoughts. You let your face fall into your hands as you sobbed quietly - you’d always waited for the moment for Max to finally admit his feelings, you just never thought it would go like this.

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#2 Logan Sargeant

His head lifted from his phone as he heard a loud laugh from your side of the garage - your head tossed back as you smacked your engineer on the arm. Logan couldn’t help the way the corner of his mouth tugged up into a smile.

At the start of the season, he hated you. There was no denying it - he was jealous of how talented and likeable you were, how he was always compared to you. So he went out of his way to make you angry, make you scream at him - for just a second of your attention. But after his last DNF, you’d gone out of your way to check on him - give him soft words of encouragement and when your hand briefly ghosted his cheek to get his attention - he was smitten.

“Last time I checked, you guys were at each other’s throats,” a mechanic spoke up, “How come you’re sending heart eyes every time you see her now?”

He couldn’t help the way he blushed, just as you looked over at him - giving him a smile and a small wave. “You know what they say man, it’s a thin line.”

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#3 Daniel Ricciardo

You had to actively bite your lip to stop yourself from smiling as he talked - turning your head away so he couldn’t see your silent protest. He was smug and arrogant and didn’t deserve anyone else giving him the positive attention he so desperately craved.

“Hey, you’re allowed to laugh at my jokes, y’know.” He rolled his eyes, finally spotting you - your eyes fixated on the iPad in your hands.

“I would if they were funny,” you replied, not giving him the satisfaction of even sparing him a glance. You’d made it very clear from the day you met him that you weren’t going to fall for his shit like everyone else and Daniel hated it.

And he was desperate to win you over - he’d caught you smiling before, but you’d never admit it, much rather stomp on his ego - especially when he was already down.

"Fine, continue to act like you hate me," he teased, his dark eyes had a glint in them - throwing you a wink when you finally looked up from your work to roll your eyes. “I know the truth.”

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#4 Lando Norris

Lando was the happiest he’d ever felt, rushing towards his team with the biggest smile on his face - letting their cheers rush through his veins as he dove into their arms. He felt on top of the world and he thought there was nothing that could bring him down - until he was placed on his feet and saw you stood amongst the rest of the team.

He expected some scathing remark about how he’d not even done any overtaking to get the win or that the safety car was the reason but instead you gave him a bright smile.

“That was absolutely phenomenal, Lando. You raced amazingly. Your family, especially your grandma, are so proud of you - I just know it.”

You offered him your hand to shake but in the heat of the moment he wrapped you up in his arms - relishing in the way you didn’t even hesitate to reciprocate, your body fit perfectly against his. He never wanted to let go.

“This is a one-time thing only, don’t let me being nice to you get to your head,” you whispered, giving him one final squeeze.

He pulled back from the hug just enough to look into your eyes, smiling at the pure adoration on your face as you looked at him - your words meaningless. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

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#10 Pierre Gasly

There was something about you that irritated Pierre to no end - and he knew exactly what it was. He wasn’t dumb, he knew he was attractive enough to get pretty much any girl he wanted to fold for his attention but you. You would bat your eyelashes and flirt with all of his friends, but when he approached you’d tense up, face falling flat. He wasn’t sure what he’d done to offend you but he couldn’t get you out of his head.

“You’re incorrigible, Pierre,” you hummed nonchalantly, swirling your drink in your glass as his blue eyes followed the long legs of a girl as she waltzed past. “She’s way out of your league.”

"Fuck you."

“I’m flattered, really, but no thanks.”

He groaned and practically slammed his beer down on the counter. “Do you know what I think?”

“Enlighten me.” Your bored tone nearly tipped him over the edge but he held his ground, stepping closer to you - placing a hand over yours, finally getting you to look at him.

“You want me.” You went to protest, but found your breath catching in your throat as he lent in - his lips ghosting the shell of your ear. “But you don’t want to be like the other girls… but trust me, you’d never be.”

You placed a hand on his chest, gently pushing him back - confusion ghosting his features. “I’m not that easy. Try harder… but, nice to feel wanted I suppose.”

He smiled, his heart skipping a beat as your walls finally began to crumble.

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#14 Fernando Alonso

You wanted to scream, throw things, punch a wall - but you couldn’t; you just had to sit there like a good little worker as they read off your schedule for the year. When you had been put forward for your promotion, you hadn’t been expected to be glued to Fernando’s side for every second of every weekend. He noticed your tension as you gathered up your things.

“If you clench your jaw any harder you’re going to break your teeth.” He tried to avoid having a tone, but his voice wasn’t friendly. “I’m not that bad.”

“There are only three things in this world I truly cannot stand,” you hissed, shoving your things into your bag, “You, you and you.”

Fernando frowned. “I don’t understand what you think I’ve done to you.”

“Of course you don’t, your head is too far up your own ass to remember,” you scoffed.

He pressed his hand against the door to stop you opening it, a frown etched into his face - he tilted his head a little. “Tell me what I did, let me fix it.”

You sighed softly, eyes meeting his. “On my very first day, I tried to talk to you and you shoulder barged me out of the way - not even looking back to apologise.”

“I-I… wow, yeah that’s not okay. I’m sorry.”

“You’re too late, Fernando. I can be professional with you but nothing more.” Your voice was small. “Please let me go.”

He stepped aside and held the door for you, watching you scurry away - his heart splintering, hating himself that all of this torment was his own doing. He had to make it right.

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#16 Charles Leclerc

You kicked your shoes off messily as the two of you stepped into the hotel - his lips barely leaving yours for a moment as he shrugged off his jacket, letting it fall to the floor. He pressed you into the nearest wall and made quick work of your shirt - tossing it over his shoulder without a glance.

Your memory of how you ended up in the situation was hazy, the last thing you remembered was screaming at him for ruining your race - saying he didn’t deserve his podium and now you were desperate for him. Your well known distaste for Charles drowned in the alcohol you’d chugged to get over your disappointment.

The taste of champagne on his tongue was addicting, you could feel yourself being drawn further in as you clumsily worked at his shirt buttons - not wanting to break the kiss. A soft whine escaped your lips when he did just that.

“Your clumsiness never fails to amaze me,” he teased, finishing the job himself before taking your hand in his and dragging you towards the bed. “You’d trip over your own toes if they weren’t attached to your feet.”

With a gentle shove, you find yourself on the mattress - propped up on your elbows as he shimmies your skirt off of your hips. “I hate you, I hope you don’t forget that after tonight.”

As he pushes your thighs apart, a smirk on his face. “I think you’re going to be the one who struggles to remember that, Cherie.”

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#18 Lance Stroll

It was petty and you knew it - you had a shit car so getting points was usually a pipe dream but when you saw the dark green of his Aston Martin in front of you, it made your blood boil. Despite rarely fighting for points, the two of you were notorious for your on track battles - with more than one incident resulting in a DNF for one, if not both of you.

In the back of your mind, you knew he’d done nothing wrong, he was an okay driver but you were jealous that his seat was so secure because he had a father who loved him so dearly. You had to earn your spot and by god you weren’t going to let some pretty rich boy be better than you.

“There’s a thing called a brake. You can fucking use it, y’know,” he shouted, storming over to you as you climbed out of your car.

“Oh that was all you! There was literally no room. Why would you try and make a move there?”

The Marshalls tried to step between you, but he wasn’t having any of it - he crowded you right against the barrier - the visor of his helmet pushed up so you could see the rage in his dark eyes, his anger only slightly muffled by his helmet. “You just need to accept that you’re a shit driver.”

“I might not be the best, but like hell would I let you be better than me,” you spat.

He placed his hands either side of you - eyes now boring into your soul, as if he was trying to read you, but with your helmet still covering your face and cameras definitely all pointed in your direction, he simply took a step back. “We’ll finish this later.”

You swallowed heavily and nodded, finally letting the Marshalls lead you away…wait, finish what later?

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#20 Kevin Magnussen

You slouched into your chair as you were scolded once again for fighting with Kevin on the track - your teammate sat looking just as pissed off as you, his arms folded across his chest. The two of you had just never clicked, and at some point the apathy turned into anger - it felt like he went out of his way to ruin all of your races when you were supposed to be teammates.

The room fell quiet as the PR team slammed the door behind them, leaving the two of you alone with your thoughts. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, as this time the incident was your fault - you’d shoved him wide at the start and he’d fallen all the way to the back, unable to make up places. It surprised you when he was the one to speak up first.

“Why can’t we just let whatever this pointless rivalry is go?”

“…I can’t even remember how it started,” you said, your cheeks heating up. “Can you?”

He paused for a moment before laughing. “No, I can’t. I’ll try and be a better teammate to you, I swear I just… I don’t know, I like our fights.”

Kevin could’ve sworn his heart was in his throat when your eyes met his, your lips curved into a soft smile. “I do too, let’s just maybe keep them fair, yeah?”

“…yeah. Yeah I can do that.”

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#22 Yuki Tsunoda

Hate wasn’t a strong enough word for how Yuki felt about you - you were arrogant, smarmy and you looked at him like he was the dirt on the bottom of your shoe. You didn’t even consider him a rival, your car was leagues above his - but whenever you found yourself behind him after a pit stop, he suddenly had the widest car on the grid.

You’d got on the podium, like always, but that didn’t stop steam coming out of your ears as you approached him after the race. “Why do you race me so hard? Your fight isn’t with me… I could’ve won the race if you had an inkling of sportsmanship.”

He shrugged, taking a sip out of his bottle. “If you were as good as you said you were, I wouldn’t be a problem.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You’re infuriating. Stay in your lane, yeah?”

Yuki placed his bottle down on the nearby wall and began to pat his pockets before sighing dramatically. “Oops, it seems like I’m out of fucks to give.”

Your jaw was practically on the floor as he grabbed his drink and walked away, unable to help the smile on his face - he’d won this round.

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#23 Alex Albon

“Hey…”

You looked up from the spot on the floor you were staring at to see Alex standing over you, pity written all over his face. He sat on the ground beside you, bending one knee as you hugged yours to your chest. “What are you doing here?”

“Not sure, I came to see if you are alright, I guess.” He looked at you, noticing your reddened eyes and sniffling nose.

You frowned. “Why do you even care?”

“I may not like you, but I’m not heartless.” His voice was softer this time. “What that reporter said was over the line, the incident wasn’t even your fault.”

“Might want to pass that along to your best mate, he seems to think it was,” you sniffled, wiping your eyes before any more tears could spill. “…I don’t need you to feel sorry for me, Alex.”

“It don’t, I swear.” He held his hands up defensively, cracking a small smile. “It was a shit thing for them to say and I just want you to know that they’re wrong.”

You looked at him properly, eyes flickering across his features for even a hint that he was talking shit - but he genuinely looked concerned, so you gave him a gentle albeit slightly forced smile. “I’ll be okay, you can go back to being a dickhead.”

He rolled his eyes playfully, giving you a gentle shove on the shoulder making you laugh softly. “Says you… if you need a vent, I’ve been told I’m a good listener.”

“…thank you, genuinely,” you practically whispered.

You tensed up as he gave your knee a gentle squeeze before standing up, leaving you with your own thoughts - surprised at the affectionate gesture but unable to help the way you had enjoyed it.

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#24 Zhou Guanyu

He held his phone in his hands - Nico Hulkenberg to join Sauber in 2025 - but in whose seat? Carelessly, he tossed his phone onto the sofa and groaned into his hands. He knew he had the talent, he was capable, but Alfa Romeo-Sauber had just never given him the car to back him up.

“Hey, so they want you in the media pen in-“ You stopped talking when you saw his defeated stature - head in his hands. “You okay?”

When you were assigned to him as his PR manager at the start of the year, he was desperate for you to like him - but you quickly made it clear you were only here for the cheque. You were blunt, professional and didn’t like to waste a second being personal with him.

“You know about Hulkenberg?” His voice was quiet, refusing to meet your eyes.

You gently sat beside him on the sofa, tucking your notepad into your bag. “No… but I’m sure it’ll work out for you.”

“I don’t need your pity.”

“I know.” You tried to give him a reassuring smile, but it was definitely pitiful. “But I need you to wipe the miserable look off of your face and get down to the pen. I’ve got work to do so… chin up or whatever. You’ve got 5 minutes.”

You didn’t even look at him as you left the room - reminding him that you just didn’t care.

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#31 Esteban Ocon

Your relationship with Esteban wasn't always strained - in fact, when you first met him, you genuinely enjoyed his company. But when he took it upon himself to push your attention to the side to make way for that of younger, prettier girls, you realised he was no different from the others and any positive feelings you had faded.

It definitely didn’t make your job any easier - more often than not, you would be checking your watch as he chatted away. You just wanted to knock some sense into him, remind him that he had a job to do.

“Got somewhere to be?” he practically snorted, as you checked your phone for what must have been the 10th time.

“No seriously, take your time,” you scowled, “Hell’s happy to wait for you, but waste another second of my time and it won't have to.”

He gave the girl he was chatting to a sideways look before finally following you - his hands shoved deep into his trouser pockets like a mopey teenager. You could see him considering conversation with you out of the corner of your eye but you tried to focus ahead - not giving him the time of day.

“What happened to us?” His voice was quiet, but you weren’t going to let him get away with it.

“You happened. You decided I wasn’t worth your time anymore, so I’m not going to let you waste mine,” you huffed.

You flinched as he took your bicep in his hand - making you look up at him with a face of what Esteban could only describe as disgust. He didn’t blame you for disliking him, but he could feel you really slipping away and he didn’t want that to happen.

He squeezed your arm, holding you far too close for comfort - his eyes boring into yours. “Can you just let me explain my side?”

You tore your arm from his grip, scowling even further. “Just leave me alone to do my job, Esteban or so help me god I’ll have them pair you with the shittiest intern for the rest of the season.”

He swallowed heavily and nodded - you weren’t expecting him to put up a fight, but still felt the same disappointment you swore you’d never let him make you feel again.

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#44 Lewis Hamilton

His hands felt like fire across your body, tracing every inch of your exposed skin as he hauled you in close - you had no idea how you got yourself in this predicament. The man in question was the bane of your existence - every second of the season was spent scrapping with him for the top spot - whether it was on or off track there was nothing but venom between the two of you.

So how you ended up with him in your apartment, hands pushing up the sides of your dress - you didn’t know but you couldn’t get enough. You groaned as his lips met the pulse point on your neck, fingers wound in the expensive fabric of his shirt.

You could feel him smirk against you as a moan escaped you. “God, I fucking hate you, Lewis.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes, really.”

He chuckled deeply, slotting his knee between your thighs to haul you in closer - pulling back just enough to look into your eyes, pupils blown with lust. Your breath hitched as his thumb brushed across your lip. “Lying doesn’t suit you, sweetheart.”

Before you could call him out, he pressed his lips against yours once again - strong hands cupping your face, allowing your knees to buckle a little. Your breath was stolen away as he pulled back, dark eyes flickering across your face for any more signs of protest, smirking when he saw none - you willingly let him guide you down onto your knees, hand cupping under your jaw - a smug smile on his face.

“Now,” he hummed, pressing his thumb between your lips to part them, “why don’t you be good… and use that mouth for something else instead. Hmm?”

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#55 Carlos Sainz

You were the last person Carlos expected to see when he opened the door to his apartment - any good person would ask if you were okay, but he simply smirked and leant against the doorframe.

“Shut up,” you scolded, pushing past him to step into his place, furiously wiping the tears away from your cheeks.

“Look who’s running back into my arms,” he cooed patronisingly, catching your jacket as you threw it at him. “I told you that I’m irresistible, didn't I?”

“Maybe that’s not why I’m here.”

Carlos chuckled darkly, tossing your jacket to the side so he could take your hips in his hands. “Hermosa, you were supposed to be on a date tonight but yet you’re here with me. I think that’s exactly why you are here.”

Your eyes were wet with tears when you finally met his gaze, but it didn’t even phase him as he slowly stepped you backwards - further into his place.

“So, tell me - what do you want?” He purred softly, brushing a thumb across your cheek to wipe away an escaped tear. “Need me to take care of you, hmm? Help you forget all about that idiot that wasted your time?”

You nodded, unable to speak as he hauled your shirt over your head when the two of you reached his bedroom.

“You sound pretty hot when you shut up, cariño,” he laughed, pushing you against the bed, “but I prefer the pretty noises you make when I have my way with you, let’s hear them.”

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#63 George Russell

You narrowed your eyes playfully at George as the two of you bickered about who would win in a fight between you and Roscoe. “He’s literally a dog, George. Who loves me, might I add.”

“Which is why he’d beat you. Because you’d go too easy on him,” he teased, his arm draped lazily across your shoulder - the two of you sat outside Mercedes hospitality together. “One look from those sad little eyes and you’d wave the white flag.”

He laughed softly as you jut out your bottom lip before leaning in to kiss you softly. George couldn’t believe his luck that not only you wanted to be seen with him but that you loved him. As kids, hell, up until your early 20s, the two of you were non-stop arguing - constantly having to be separated by your mutual friends. But it all changed when you witnessed the crash at Silverstone in ‘22; the way he leapt out of his car with no hesitation to try and help made your heart soar.

“You know…” you hummed softly, “I still don’t really know why I used to despise you.”

George smiled. “I genuinely don't remember. But, it got us here… and I’m quite happy here, aren’t you?”

It was your turn to kiss him. “Happier than I’ve ever been.”

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#77 Valtteri Bottas

Infuriated wasn’t a strong enough word for how you were feeling as Valtteri stood in front of you, practically red in the face as he scolded you for yet something else that wasn’t your fault. You weren’t sure why he disliked you, but from day one with Alfa Romeo, he’d treated you differently from everyone else.

But today, you’d had enough.

“That data could’ve helped me get some points for once, don’t you understand how important it is that-“

“The world could really use some of your famous silence right now,” you cut him off, not regretting it for a moment when you saw his jaw tick. “Have you maybe considered that getting that data… is not my job? Making sure you’ve got a clean kit is not my job. For god’s sake Valtteri, do you even know what my job is?”

His eyes widened. “You… you’re uh-“

“Exactly. So do me a favour, and just take a big fucking step back and reevaluate,” you hissed. “Because I’m out.”

“You’re out?” He frowned.

“I’m going to another team. Effective immediately, that’s what I came to tell you, so you won’t have to deal with my so-called incompetence anymore.”

Valterri just stared at you like he’d seen a ghost, and not willing to wait for anymore scathing comments - you turned on your heel and left, leaving the driver to question every single time he’d scolded you.

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#81 Oscar Piastri

You lay in the medical centre, bright fluorescent lights certainly not helping your headache. It wasn’t a big crash, but you’d still ended up with a nasty case of whiplash - your ears still ringing. As the door swung open, you expected to see the medic, ready to let you go home, but it was in fact Oscar… holding flowers?

“Any time something bad happens to me, you’ve always been there,” he spoke, no anger in his voice - in fact, it almost seemed teasing. “Are you cursing me or something?”

“Not my fault you’re always in my way,” you replied, surprising both Oscar and yourself when you matched his tone. “Flowers?”

“Uh… yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. “It looked like a pretty nasty ding you took out there, so I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

Oscar’s heart raced with anticipation as you took the bouquet from him, just waiting for you to throw them back in his face. For some reason, despite being the most chilled driver on track, you really got under his skin - and, he hated the cliche of it, but seeing you struggle to get out of your car made him realise - it wasn’t hatred, he had feelings.

"They’re lovely, thank you.” You smiled, genuinely smiled at him. “Are you doing alright?”

He waved off your concern. “Yeah, I’m fine. I think you took the worst of it… say, uhm, can I take you out to dinner to apologise?”

You tilted your head. “You’re actually taking the blame for the crash? Oscar-“

“Please.”

You bit your lip, letting yourself study his face for a moment - his usual calm expression was replaced with something you didn’t recognise. “Yeah, okay, I’d like that.”

His smile alone was worth it - you don’t think you’d ever seen it directed at you, and it felt good.

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Hope you enjoyed 🥰

#f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #x reader #f1 angst #max verstappen x reader #logan sargent x reader #daniel ricciardo x reader #lando norris x reader #Pierre gasly x reader #Fernando Alonso x reader #Charles leclerc x reader #lance stroll x reader #Yuki tsunoda x reader #kevin magnussen x reader #Alex Albon x reader #Zhou Guanyu x reader #Esteban Ocon x reader #Lewis Hamilton x reader #Carlos Sainz x reader #George Russell x reader #Valtteri Bottas x reader #Oscar Piastri x reader

[henneseyhoe]

Daddy’s Money.

Lewis Hamilton x BLACK!FEM!Reader.

WARNINGS:lil bit of nasty smut, brief one sided relationship, lewis being pussy whipped, reader is heavily implied to be a gold digger(she is but shhhh! let her rock frl), daddy kink, money making reader hornayyy(me asf), not edited(idc rn i’m sleepy), there MIGHT be plot holes(again, i’m sleepy) and das it i think.

ps. also i’m ngl i wrote this halfway lazily, i just wanted to get back into writing sooo yeah.

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The arrangement was really an accident (at first). You were hired to fit and dress the man after practically begging for the job, needing the money to jump start your fashion career since your father had cut you off the month prior. It’d take nearly five years to do so, but with someone as easy going as lewis, time would fly fast.

Eventually he grew fond of you, and you of him..him a bit (a lot) more than you actually. Months after getting hired he began bringing you around for things that wasn’t about his style, things that someone would do for a budding romance. You didn’t mind either, it was working in your favor getting the extra hours to do nothing. You didn’t mean to snag a sugar daddy, a famous one at that, just like you didn’t mean to fuck him before the met gala, damn near making him late. It just…happened; Which is what you’d say to judgy bitches.

You also didn’t mean to point out that midnight black bag (and a few other things) you had been wanting when shopping for him the week after the met. Those things mysteriously showed up on your door step two days later to your surprise. You were beginning to think he was a little generous…so you tested something out.

“Ugh! Wouldn’t this look so good on me?”

You pout as you held the designer dress up to your body. It was originally intended to go to another woman they paired him with for an event, but seeing it up against you instead was all he had to see before he told his assistant to inform the woman she’d be wearing something else. In awe, you proceeded to wear that dress to the event that night, easily gaining eyes from guests and earning yourself a name as Lewis’s “sexy ass stylist” online when the pictures taken of you went viral.

Later on that night the dress was being ripped apart from the back and thrown to the floor by you know exactly who, him doing everything in his power to get to what was underneath.

You couldn’t tell if your pussy was good or if he was just that whipped for you after that night. Either way, you were having fun.

Before you could snap your fingers, whatever you were THINKING of wanting was at your fingertips. He had more money than he could spend, and you had no problem helping him find what to do with it! It was only fair, ya know, for his sake.

The first time you realized he was really wrapped around your little iced out finger was the last time you had wanted for anything for long.

“I could have anything I want? seriously??”

You looked to him in shock, the man shrugging as he debated on a pair of versace shoes. “Have at it, love” He responded simply with a quick endearing smile to you before waving over an assistant to help you. You felt like a kid in a candy store.

^Also the last time you referred to him as anything other than daddy when not in public, (or at least not noticeably to others in public).

He was liquid when you called him that. soft putty in your hands, ready for you to shape him into anything you desired.

“Come on, daddy. Don’t you wanna see your name in diamonds on me? Don’t you wanna mark me? claim me?”

You taunted him in a seductive tone as you rolled your hips onto him. You flipped your hair to one side of your shoulder so you could look back at the work you were putting in, Lewis staring back at you with hearts in his eyes and his bottom lip tucked into his mouth. Both of y’all’s jeans were halfway down with your pretty brown ass perched up for him to see the tip of his long dick teasingly slide between your lips and into your honey coated walls repeatedly. He was right there on the edge, you could feel it and you hadn’t even sat all the way down on him yet.

Really it was either say yes to the chain or be left to make himself cum, he understood that completely. As he nods eagerly in agreement, you plopped your plump self down into his lap and he came as fast as police in white neighborhoods.

By the seventh month of being together your closet was every woman with a fashion sense dream. Designer galore (and not the ugly shit neither). He got you designs that wasn’t on racks yet but straight off a runway, things that fit perfectly to YOUR body. (Seeing that he was getting to know it so well..He could probably draw a map of you with just his damn tongue.)

You began getting way more noticed by his fans and friends, not only for suddenly having a thing for wearing expensive clothes and jewels, but for also being close with Lewis. Dating rumors had started to run amuck. The first plan was to deny, deny, deny but it was hard to do that when you were wearing his name on your neck, hiding the chain under your shirts or wearing it backwards so no one would see the name plate.

But the chain wasn’t what caused the dam to break. It was when you posted bags and gifts with flowers, a card attached that had a heartfelt and flirty handwritten poem on it, forgetting to even scribble out his name. Fans and close friends were on the fence, some of his associates madder than an ant colony in the rain and some fans confused on where the hell you even came from and where you got off on gold digging. The clothes and jewelry were finally starting to make sense and you gave the saying “Look like money” a new meaning.

Lewis was quick to come to your defense in interviews, you had never seen anyone get so nice nasty or petty in your honor. He was witty and quick with comebacks, his polite tone masking rude comments at any interviewer that dared to have an opinion about you that he didn’t like. He made sure as everything went on online and your name trended for the second time that week that you didn’t lack reassurance ever.

“Look in the mirror and let daddy know who’s it is”

He pulls you by your braids up to the direction of the reflecting headboard, your back pressed against his chest as his hips met your ass with a hard smack. After hours of pleasurable “reassurance” there wasn’t a spot inside you that his dick didn’t hit, a place on you that his tongue didn’t lick. The chain you had asked for a bit ago clinked freely against your chest and a fucked out evil smile grew on your face as you look him in the eyes through the mirror. “It’s yours, daddy. you know it’s all yours” You would reply before your walls gushed around his dick.

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Fans who prayed on your downfall weren’t so happy when they got the news that you two married two years later in Greece. The wedding was private, but it was no secret that a fortune was spent and that didn’t make the gold digging comments better. (Even though your father paid)

Those comments followed you into your fashion brand era and though you chose to be mysterious about private life and yourself in general, (for obvious reasons) you felt it was only right to defend your honor at least once.

Like the great actress you were, you did what white women around him had been doing to you since the beginning and threw on the waterworks, crying in front of any watchful eye when the rumors were brought up with your amazing husband by your side comforting you immediately. How dare they say such things about THEE Lewis Hamilton’s wife?? THEE Y/N Hamilton???

Your newly grown fan base called it blasphemy. There wasn’t an online blog on beyoncé’s internet that went untouched when having something to say about you. Everything they said was untrue! You had your own money, your own brand, (funded by your husband) and your own name.

“They’re so mean to me”

You pout as Lewis carefully takes off your heels and kisses the top of your feet before standing and caressing your cheek. “You know how the media is, and I know nothing they say about you is true. I’ll have my team take care of it, okay?” He reassured and you smile, mentally noting to suck his dick before bed. As if you were rewarding a dog for jumping through a hoop, being soft and on your side at all times was Lewis’s hoop, and he had better jump through every. single. time.

To be fair, there may have been some superficial motives behind the building of this relationship (on your side at least) but he genuinely did grow on you, and that was before you knew he was a trick, that part just made it deeper.

You were in shock when he asked you to marry him originally, so much so that you refused the first time because it scared you. You avoided him for an entire week and refused to go to work until you realized you had grown so accustomed to being around him that you could barely function. Apart from the fact that you were opening doors by yourself and eating dinner alone, you hadn’t noticed how much you liked talking to him, being with him and simply in his presence.

Materials aside, you loved him, you were in love with him. Infatuated just as much as he was with you by now and you came too long of a way to be scared off.

In reality you telling him no wasn’t gonna stop him from perusing. He knew you were gonna be his wife for a long time now and nothing was gonna get in the way of him finding you (and he kinda duped you with the whole falling for him thing anyway because he knew what half of your motives were and played his role well), you just found him first and made him pop that question again, which that time you happily said yes to.

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#henneseyhoe #black fanfic writer #black fanfiction #black!reader #black reader #black!fem!reader #masterlist #black!oc #lewis hamilton x black female oc #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton one shot #lewis hamilton x black reader #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton

[desultxry]

Midnight

Valkyrae x male reader 1.7k words

It’s kinda obvious. The usual suspects are at the table, some drinking, talking, others eating. You’re not at that table. To be completely fair with yourself and with the circumstance, you were not going to stand any chance if she asked. Rae barely did, to begin with. It was more of a gaze, a hand on your thigh, and a signaling squeeze with her nails. You’re here for nothing else, in any event; that’s what you are to her. You came to terms with that long ago.

And it’s pretty fucking obvious, by the way. People know you two go missing often. Expect it. The fact that her clothes are nothing but pure convenience adds on to the evident scenario. It’s all an excuse: an excuse for a shirt, an excuse for a skirt—why even bother to sew pockets on it anyway—

She’s leading you around a hallway, then up some stairs. It’s all rather lavish for a streamer house. Only the place itself looks grand and expensive, however; there’s a mess just about everywhere. Everyone you know has come and gone, eaten and napped and drank to varying degrees. You were, of course, invited last minute. Quite literally. It’s close to midnight and they had started to gather by dusk. And it’s only when she’s bored, you dare say even a little desperate, that she texts you. Parties like these, anyway, still have a long way to go. 

Consider yourself her intermission.

Rae doesn’t bother to get in a room and hide away from accidentally prying eyes. At this point, you try to recall, who hasn’t caught you two yet? It’s a fucked-up thrill to now hope for, admittedly. 

She gets a hand under the hem of your shirt, ghosting around you until finding grip by the small of your back. Her nails dig into you like before. The smirk at the corner of her lips indicates she likes that, always has. See, Rae has you pinned against a wall. There’s a part of her that would enjoy being greedy and would like to bide her time, taking every sweet little second to undress, tease, caress. More often than not, however—as is the case today—she leans towards the frantic and frenzied. It’s concept versus practice. All that teasing and flirting on the phone always gets her so worked up that by the end Rae is nothing but a wet, needy mess. She’s ready to get fucked and you always find yourself at her beck and call.

Her breath clashes warm against yours while her other hand toys at your front. As her thumb plays with the elastic waistband of your shorts, she looks down. The bulge is—inevitably, dutifully—visible. Rae gets a playful knee between your legs so that her thigh brushes and incites it further. 

There’s a back and forth you play out, somewhat theatrical, and mostly for her entertainment. She starts with some fleeting kiss that’s less of a brush and more of a quick peck-and-smack before pulling back. Light and lascivious. You play it out for the sake of doing so. A you’re late from her makes you respond, simply, by looking at your watch with dramatic intent. Oh, I should apologize? You, a tad defiant (which is, as it happens, unintended, though it works out). She scoffs, of course, and pulls the waistband lower. It’s taut and at that point of no return—between your hips and the rest of your legs—as Rae still keeps those nails on your back sharp and prickling. Yes, you should. Her hand at the front runs cold down your stomach and past the yielding fabric. The base of your cock is warm, stiffening further when her cool touch wraps its commanding grip around you. 

There’s not much teasing after that. Again: Rae is needy.

However much control she may have in the circumstance, whatever say in the matter, most of it melts away with little resistance once she crouches down to face your length. With your waistband sitting comfortably around your thighs now, you assist Rae: she’s eager (see also: salivating), causing disarray in her hairstyle as she gathers it all up onto your awaiting palm. You’ve played this game before. Once you have proper grip, her lips part. You enjoy the image for a second too long when her expectant eyes gaze up, imploring. So you bring her in. The slow approach is, really, the crux of all this. She texts you, calls you. Tells you when, where, and how  she wants it. But the moment—down to the literal second—when she resigns any and all sense of control, she hands it all to you. All of that authority. All in the grip of her hair.

Yes, you’re the one against the wall, and yes, Rae’s the one with her hands on your thighs, holding on like her life depends on it, but it’s you who’s setting the pace, thrusting slow into her warm, slick mouth. Rae’s lips envelop you in full, down to the base, as her tongue runs circles under your shaft to make further mess of all the dripping spit. Every so often, a gag, accompanied by this light moan with every breath she takes up at the tip. Pulling her away, a trail of spit bridges between you and her lower lip. It falls right on her chin. Rather indecent.

Rae stands, shimmying and hiking the short skirt up her thighs and plump ass. It sits nicely atop her hips, around her waist. “Put it in me, please.” 

She’s one to put it in herself, in any case. So you bend your knees, sliding your back down the wall. Rae turns and you align perfectly. Considering the amount of spit, it takes nothing for it to slip in. One clean motion and you’re surrounded by heat; the glide is pure vice.

“Fuck—” You, voiceless.

Whichever bits of hair were previously gathered with your fist fell a tad coiled and intertwined down her back. It really is that simple. On queue—because Rae knows what she’s doing—she flips a strand over her shoulder to join the rest of her frizzed locks. Because you also know what you’re doing, your hands bide their time, knowing how desperate she can get. The way she pushes back on your light thrusts, onto your cock, is her tell. 

Your palms land on her plush and rippling ass first. You’re barely fucking up into her as Rae backs onto your hips. When her head drops back a bit—hair draped over this sinful arch of her back—Rae pats your thigh. “What are you waiting for?” Looking back and swaying her hair. 

Your hands clutch her ass harder before letting go. The makeshift ponytail that you manage is disheveled and messy, but it gets the job done. “For you to say it,” you admit. With one committed thrust, you sink all the way inside her folds. Covered, wet. The fist around her hair pulls slow, steady, as Rae further arches and bends and keens. 

The best part of all of this is how you both have it down to, largely, a routine. All of that teasing hours before while she got ready: photos and texts and short but dangerous clips of everything but her face. Then while you got ready, all because of the expectation and promise. Rae would send a photo with the phone at a dangerously high angle—could see all the way down her tiny top. You’d send something equally incriminating and before you knew it (and you knew), you’d get the call. She isn’t one to invite over text; that’s all just to start. Rae’s one to call simply because, yeah, she gets off on that vocal confirmation—on the sound of your voice falling deep and serious and saying yes, I’ll be there in a few. Implied under all that hush-toned discussion was the obvious rest.

Now, the real best part of all this is how she began taking pills, what, two weeks ago? It’s not something you’re able to pinpoint anymore. You have literally lost count. 

Some way, somehow, Rae’s the one against the wall now. Her chest is willingly pressed against it as her open palm fails to find any grip to hold on to the flat surface—at this point and in a different setting it would be the sheets, a pillow. Her other hand works the pads of her fingertips on her warm, sopping wet clit. If it weren’t for the music and noise downstairs, you figure, it would be downright audible.

And she doesn’t have to tell you that she’s cumming. Her fucked-out cunt pulses around the nonstop fucking of your cock. You also catch her free hand, fingers bracing against the solid surface, attempting to divert all of that energy onto something. 

Though she does tell you that she’s cumming, anyway. “I’m—fuck—” A  sharp inhale, followed by a relieved exhale. “I’m cumming.” Rae tenses up. It’s this high-strung, pent-up shudder that finally finds its path of least resistance—everywhere. Her whole body quivers when you push your length inside of her in full. You feel her fingers shock-still against her nub, pressing tight and firm. 

Once she subsides you realize you’re not long for it either. The pull-back out is something of an impossibility; you’re overstimulated at this stage. Your hands have been everywhere: around her waist, grasping at her hips, pulling all of that lush hair. And your eyes just get everything, don’t they? Rae’s face every time she ventures a look back, her now blush-red ass from the constant thrusts, and that desperate, telling hand that let you confirm her inescapable orgasm. There’s certainly more there but your vision turns to haze. You fuck her again and again.

Then you cum.

The thrusting is uninterrupted and messy and delirious. Hot white paints the inside of Rae’s pussy as it likewise escapes out with each and every plunge into it. You’re not even able to state it, let her know it’s coming. You just fuck and fuck and fuck. Incessant. Until your legs just about fail.

~

And they nearly give out while coming down the stairs. You’re shaky and weak. Drained. Rae takes everything—not like you’re unwilling, this has been established. But here you are: the steps lead directly towards the foyer of the compound and she’s showing you the door.

Rae gives you a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“I’m busy all day.” You respond plainly.

“It’ll be late. Late late.”

You nod slow, hands in pockets, turn. “Sounds good.” And walk away.

#otv smut #valkyrae smut #rae smut

[fernandopiastri28]

Hello! I loved your last oscar fic so maybe you could do one when oscar repays her and is focused only on her pleasure?

hands in your hair ~ oscar piastri

It’s only a few minutes of this before Oscar begins to get increasingly more irritated. A string of whines and groans leave his mouth as her nails scratch at his scalp and his hips shift against the cushioning under him, desperate for friction and pressure. “Y/N,” He mumbles into the flesh of her thighs, “I’m horny,”

Shocker. “Same,” She cranes her neck and hunching her back awkwardly so she can kiss the back of his head. His hair smells vaguely of sweat and some expensive aftershave, hints of hotel shampoo underneath. It’s distinctively Oscar, her favourite.

His fingers drive into her thighs, leaving white splodges in their wake. “Can I go down on you?”

wc: 2,437 || warnings: pure smut- oral (f), mentions of sex, hair kink??

(self indulgent- just me being obsessed with oscar's longer hair)

Her finger’s card through the soft locks of his brunette hair, relishing in just how long his hair’s gotten. It looks better than it has throughout their whole relationship, and she’s seen her fair share of his interesting haircuts. For a moment, her hands pull away and her touches stop. He wiggles around, his head lolling around in her lap. “Why’d you stop?” His voice comes out as a grumble, a slight pout to his lips.

“Sorry, Oz,” Y/N giggles, her thumbs moving to brush over his cheeks before moving back into his hair. His eyes are shut, trying to get in a last little bit of sleep before he has to get in the car for free practice 3. Oscar Piastri napping minutes before he has to be driving around a track he’s never driven before in his career- fork found in kitchen. He would sleep forever if he could, and likely would if it weren’t for Y/N, Andrea, and Lando all having to try to wake him up.

A knock sounds on the door a few minutes later, proving her point further. “Osc?” Lando’s voice travels underneath the door of Oscar’s room in the motorhome. When he doesn’t get a response, he calls out again. “Y/N, stop sucking his cock, we need to get in the cars soon” She cringes out, turning dark red that that’s what’s presumed they do whenever they’re alone.

It kinda is, but not always. “He’s sleeping, not getting head,” She retorts, enjoying her last few minutes before he gets whisked away.

“Sleeping, sex, quickies- who cares, please just wake him up,” Lando keeps knocking on the door and she frowns slightly, sad that her time with her boyfriend has to be cut short for him to race.

“Yeah, give me a sec,” She weasels her way out from under him, slipping down enough for her feet to hit the floor. “Oscar, time to wake up,” She brushes her hair off his forehead, kissing at the revealed skin. “Cmon, neither of us want you to get in trouble with Zak because you’ve just decided you don’t want to race today,” 

He groans, rolling himself over to bury his face into a cushion. “Fine,” His arms click as he pushes himself up, his fireproof top having hitched itself up to show off the majority of his toned abdomen. “Only because I don’t want to end up in a Danny Ric situation,” She sucks in a deep breath at that, her mouth moving into a grimace. “Sorry, too soon,” 

Oscar needs to remember that even though she’s his girlfriend, she’s a Ricciardo fan firstly, a true aussie supporting her country. “Good luck, loverboy” She pulls him in for a final kiss just as he’s working on getting his race suit zipped up, forgetting he only has one of his arms in a sleeve.

His hand squeezes at her waist, pushing it slightly into the edge of the bench they were previously perched upon, “Back here at the end of practice?” His adorable bunny teeth scrape along her bottom lip, his lips clasping around it.

“You’ve got it,” She sends him off with a swift smack to the butt, getting a howl out of him and a permanently red face of embarrassment when he sees that Lando saw the whole thing. 

He’s never going to hear the end of it.

~~~

Oscar goes crazy on the radio as free practice 3 ends, securing him a first place ‘position’ after getting second in the prior session. For a track that had been cancelled last year, causing him to miss out on racing it before today, he’s doing exceptional. He hurries back to his driver room, excited to get back to spending time with Y/N before qualifying. 

“Oz!” She’s already back on the bench, having made her way out of the paddock once the session had ended to avoid crowds of interviewers. “You were so good, baby!” She reaches her arms out, wrapping her legs around his waist once he’s fully in the hug.

His head buries into the crook of her neck, his hair tickling at her nose, “Did it for you,” He murmurs, his lips aimlessly moving against the collar of her shirt, unintentionally wetting it. “Can we cuddle like before? Your hands in my hair?” The question is slightly muffled by the angle he’s at, but she gets it enough. He’s not really one to go all out with celebrating, and FP3 isn’t something huge to party about anyways. 

She leans back, her head hitting against the wall and lets her legs dangle over the edge so her thighs squish up, just like how Oscar likes. He palms at them, before just dropping his head down onto them, using them as cushions. His cheeks get all smushed up, just like they do under his helmet. Without much time after that, her hands move to his hair, tugging on it ever so slightly, the floppy strands long enough to nearly cover her fingers completely as they disappear under all the brown hair there. He turns over slightly, enough to be looking up at her and have his head up closer to her face. 

After eye fucking eachother for what seems like a decade, his lips press into hers. The kiss is agonisingly slow, strings of spit connecting them and teeth tugging on each other's lips. Their faces seem to merge into one the longer it lasts, each breath being inhaled in tandem. The nose of smacking lips and wet suckling fills the small room, hands going on hips and waists as desperate attempts to hold back whatever incoming lustre they’re both heading towards until they get home tonight. 

They just have to wait til after quali, get back to the hotel, then they can fuck it out. 

Y/N’s the one who ends up pulling away, knowing she’s not strong enough to hold back if they’re gonna continue making out. Oscar’s an exceptional kisser, and sometimes, just that is enough for her to get off on. So they go back to Oscar’s head in her lap, sitting in silence as she strokes his head.

It’s only a few minutes of this before Oscar begins to get increasingly more irritated. A string of whines and groans leave his mouth as her nails scratch at his scalp and his hips shift against the cushioning under him, desperate for friction and pressure. “Y/N,” He mumbles into the flesh of her thighs, “I’m horny,”

Shocker. “Same,” She cranes her neck and hunching her back awkwardly so she can kiss the back of his head. His hair smells vaguely of sweat and some expensive aftershave, hints of hotel shampoo underneath. It’s distinctively Oscar, her favourite. 

His fingers drive into her thighs, leaving white splodges in their wake. “Can I go down on you?” That’s just about the last thing she was expecting to come out of his mouth. It’s not completely out of character for him, he’s actually pretty insistent on spending evenings after races in between her legs, whether his result was good or not. He could spend eternity there, his mind all foggy and dreamlike- like he’ll stay there forever. “I won’t make a mess- I promise, we can be quick. I just wanna make you feel good,”

It’s her favourite request, and her dress is hitched up before he can ask again. Towards the beginning of last season, she’d worn a wide variety of jeans and other long pants, until she realised just how many they found themselves desperate for a quickie before or in between races, and she’d permanently switched to flowy dresses and skirts ever since. 

He arranges himself onto his front, up on his knees and hands while he keeps his chest the lowest angled part of his body. She’s laying in the same direction as him, her knees towards the ceiling and her back flush to the bench, her fingers occupied by playing with the hem of her dress so as to not cum the second she sees his desperate face in between her parted legs. 

It feels like her heart is stopping as his breath gets heavier and hotter on her clothed heat, the fabric basically ruined from how wet she’s gotten. A digit glides across the soaked material, taunting her as he pushes against it. “Fuck, Oscar,” She hits her head down against the pillow under her head, not even realising when she’d gotten this needy.

“You’re dripping,” He notes, his eyes huge and glossy, all mesmerised by the sight. A finger hooks into her waistband, pulling them down tantalisingly slowly. She forces her head up, just enough to study his expression from just above her cunt. He licks his lips, his pupils somehow growing bigger. “Holy shit,” He doesn’t waste a second, his face plunging forward so get his mouth all over her.

Oscar’s talented in many things. Driving, writing hit tweets, taking digs at DRS, being mature in all circumstances, making people laugh with his dry and sarcastic humour, but above all- he’s got a talented mouth. His teeth scrape along her clit, sending shocks of pleasure through her bundle of nerves. Y/N could cum just from that, it feels like floating on cloud nine. She doesn’t even understand how it could possibly get any better until his nose begins nudging her clit, his tongue pushing inside her hole. 

His cock was leaky in his tight boxers, his rock hard bulge still concealed by his fireproofs handing awkwardly off his hips. As she stared down at him, she somehow got even wetter each time he paused momentarily to stare at her wrecked cunt then dove back in like a starved creature. Unclips nails dig further into her thighs, pushing them further apart so his face is fully coated in her wetness. “Oh my god Oscar,” Her voice comes out so depraved and debauched.

Only his eyes are visible as he keeps his steel hard gaze on her. A pair of usually big, puppy brown eyes, the type that ooze innocence and angelic beauty are hardened and dark with lust. Her hands slip into his hair, needing something to ground her as he takes her apart from the inside out. She genuinely can’t get over his hair. How silky it is, how good it feels to yank on, how hot he looks.

His fingers move from her thighs up to under her shirt, practised fingers trailing under the wire of her bra. He pulls the tight fabric far enough from her skin that it leaves a pale mark when it snaps back after release. It’s hell being tortured like this, but it also feels so good. His indexes and thumbs on both hands work the clasp of the bra, undoing it with not much work. It’s an improvement from a few months prior when she’d settled for doing each time as he was so clueless on how to do it smoothly. 

The crazed look in his eyes speaks a million words. She might be the only one getting a proper physical sexual gratification out of this, but he’s clearly getting off on her being in near excruciating pleasure. It feels better than anything they’ve done in a while. She bites her lip, watching as a lock of hair falls onto his forehead, a perfect little curl above his furrowed eyebrows. It’s cute, it’s hot, it’s everything- all at once. 

Now Y/N feels like she could cum just because of his hair, and that’s definitely a new thought.  

He moans, watching his eyes soften at the noise, “That’s so good- you’re fucking amazing at this,” He’s relentless- his tongue, noise, lips, and teeth all committed to making her reach her peak. “Look at you,”

“Look at me? Look at you,” God, he’s so whipped. His index finger glides along her open hole, slipping it inside her and curling it instantaneously. A pain bubbles in her stomach- she’s going to cum. “Fuck, look at that, so perfect around my fingers, just as perfect in my mouth.” She’s leaking around his fingers, her body reacting to his ministrations and praises. 

He can read her like a book, he knows that her twisted up expression can only mean one thing. “You don’t need to ask me, baby, you can come when you need to,” A sharp breath leaves her lungs and her head falls backwards, her orgasm crashing into her like a freight train. 

He kisses up from her aching cunt to her the lower part of her stomach, then her abdomen. He takes his time on her exposed breasts, his tongue swirling around her nipples, before marking her with a love bite in between them. “Looks good on you,“ He looks down at her from where he kneels between her legs, basically drooling at how wrecked she looks post orgasm underneath him. 

Y/N struggles to prop herself up on her elbows, her core aching as she tries to sit up. She angles for a kiss, luckily met halfway by Oscar. “Your turn.. I wanna suck you off,” She pants, her hand moving to push down his race suit. He swats her hand away, laughing at her eagerness. 

“Nah, that was plenty for me to get you off,” He declines, slowly getting off of her so he can clean up the mess he did make in the end, despite his promise. She opens her mouth to argue with him but she’s swiftly shut up with his mouth back on hers. “Plus, I have qualifying in… fuck, like 10 minutes,” He frowns, helping to redress her. 

“Oscar?” Lando’s voice joins the conversation, once again right outside their door. “Now are you getting your dick sucked?” He taunts, like it’s a joke this time around. “Or can we head for quali together?”

He’s wrong, it was the other way around. “Nah, I’ll be out in a moment. Thanks for waiting for me,” He zips his suit up, giving Y/N a final grin.

“Oscar,” She groans. She hates leaving him hard, it feels unfair that she’s just had the best orgasm of her life and he has to go get in a car and drive around at crazy stupid speeds with an aching mass between his legs. 

“Y/N,” He mocks teasingly, peppering her face in chaste kisses, “I’m okay, If I have a killer qualifying session tonight, we’ll continue this later. She gives a final comb through his hair with her fingers, enjoying every bit of it just incase he decides to cut it.

P2 sure is killer, and the sex after it is amazing. Even better when he finds out about the penalty, because angry Oscar is so hot. Her hands stay planted in his hair the whole time, and by the end of it, in their post coital comfort, he promises he won't cut it for as long as she wants.

#oscar piastri #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri x reader #mclaren racing #f1 #f1 rpf #formula1 #formula one #lando norris #mclaren #imola gp 2024 #hair kink

[wolfythewitch]

Hiui it is 8am and I'm on the zcholl bus and my broam has not shut up about them

There's a lot of discourse about the achilles portrayal in the song of achilles which I agree with for the most part because the sanitization I feel erases the suffering of women and slaves the period was built on by minimizing the raping and violent nature of war hero achilles that Homer wrote - - however, I don't think tsoa ought to be read as a stand alone; tsoa is entirely written from patroclus' pov and I think that idealisation of the man is brilliant because of how grossly codependent they were

I think I really liked one redditors take on it, being [in context of 'the silence of girls'; a breseis pov of the iliad, where in achilles participated in the culture which used her as a bed slave of war] The tsoa protector achilles which defended women who mattered to him and was endlessly devoted, and the achilles that was complacent in the ritualistic abuse of the women he enslaved by pillaging their homes are both coexisting, and possibly one and the same

I personally view the Greek cast as sort of vocaloids, they're tools by which we understand the culture of the ancients, the way we envision their interactions is just a means for our practicing the pragmatics of how we come to understand the period

Okay frankly I'm not the best person to discuss this because I've only read like half of tsoa, but there's two disagreements I have I guess, based on what I Have read

One, as much it's not meant to be a standalone or something like that (to me, it is meant to be a standalone), because of its popularity in contemporary media it is being taken as one, and many people will have Achilles and Patroclus' image forever frozen as tsoa' portrayal. God knows how many comments I've gotten on my videos treating tsoa as fact. I can't really blame the author for that, but it is what it is.

Two, the idealization of man through patroclus' eyes would hold more weight if himself was not changed for the narrative either. Patroclus was a soldier, he was a healer, and he also had his fair share of women (who he slept with). Both of them did. Violence was not shied from, and slave women were war prizes. There are these insidious little rewrites throughout the story to further the narrative of Achilles and Patroclus' only loving each other, and in turn erasing what they've done to the other women in the story. (Taking in slave women because they wanted to save them is. A choice.) Deidamia in the myths, they range from at best her and Achilles falling in love to the point of intimacy, and at worst Achilles raping her. In tsoa, Thetis forced Achilles to sleep with her. Deidamia also forced Patroclus to sleep with her. That flip in the narrative is kind of fucked up, seeing as how both in the myths and in tsoa Peleus raped Thetis.

Trying to make a statement that it is written through the idealized eyes of man, well it doesn't really work here. If anything, it feels more like an author writing with the intent of not having her MCs be morally reprehensible. So Patroclus cares when the plot demands it (saving briseis, outrage when she is taken away. Asking Achilles to save the other slave girls) and not when it doesn't affect him (talking about his mother nonchalantly, questioning why thetis hated Peleus when he also acknowledged how Peleus was involved in her rape).

#wolfy tedtalks #rape tw #slavery tw

[imthebadguyyy]

my boy only breaks his favourite toys

pairing : charles leclerc x reader

fandom : f1

series : the tortured poets department

warnings : angst baby angst, no comfort here.

a/n : this broke my heart a little but oh well.

oh here we go again...

The late afternoon sun filtered through the large windows of the Monaco apartment, casting a golden hue over the modern, embellished living room. You and Charles  stood in the kitchen, a simmering tension between you.

"You know how important this event is to me, Charles," you said, your voice steady but with an edge of frustration. "I've been looking forward to it for weeks."

Charles sighed, running a hand through his tousled hair. "I know, and I'm sorry, but you know how demanding the F1 schedule is. I have commitments I can't get out of."

You crossed your arms, your eyes narrowing slightly. "Oh, here we go again," you muttered, more to yourself than to him. "Every time I have something important, it's always the same excuse."

Charles's eyes flashed with a mixture of guilt and frustration. "It's not an excuse, Y/N. This is my job. It's what I've worked for my entire life."

"And what about what I've worked for?" you shot back, your voice rising. "This event is a big deal for me, and it feels like you don't even care."

Charles stepped closer, his expression softening as he reached out to touch your arm. "That's not fair. I do care, deeply. But I can't just drop everything because our schedules clash."

You pulled away, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. "It feels like your career always comes first, Charles. I need you to be there for me too, just once."

He sighed, frustration giving way to a deep sadness in his eyes. "I want to be there for you, but I don't know how to balance everything."

You looked at him, your eyes filled with unshed tears. "Maybe it's time you figure out how, because I can't keep doing this. I need to know I'm important to you too."

Charles's face hardened slightly, a storm brewing in his eyes. "This again? You think I don't know how important you are? I can't be in two places at once, Y/N."

Your voice shook with emotion as you replied, "I'm not asking you to be perfect, Charles. I'm asking you to make an effort."

His frustration boiled over, his tone sharp. "I am making an effort! But you can't expect me to be there for every single event when I'm fighting for my career."

Your tears finally spilled over, your voice breaking. "I'm not asking for every single event. I'm asking for this one. But it seems like that's too much to ask."

Charles stared at you, his jaw clenched, before he turned away abruptly. "I can't do this right now," he muttered, grabbing his jacket from the back of a chair.

"Where are you going?" you asked, your voice trembling.

"Out," he said curtly, not looking back as he headed for the door. "I need some air."

The door slammed behind him, leaving you standing alone in the quiet apartment, the echo of your argument hanging heavy in the air. You sank onto the couch, wrapping your arms around yourself, feeling a cold emptiness settle in your chest. The silence was deafening, and for the first time, you wondered if your love could withstand the strain of your clashing worlds.

rivulets descend my plastic smile...

The grand ballroom of the FIA Gala was adorned with sparkling lights and elegant decorations, a fitting venue for the prestigious event. You arrived on Charles's arm, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. As a famous singer, you were set to perform a song later in the evening, and the anticipation was palpable.

Charles looked dashing in his tailored suit, and he squeezed your hand reassuringly as you made your way through the crowd, greeting fellow drivers and attendees. You couldn't help but notice the pride in his eyes as he introduced you to his colleagues, but a small part of you hoped that pride would extend to your performance later.

As the evening progressed, you were called to the stage. The crowd applauded as you took your place at the microphone, the spotlight shining brightly on you. The music started, and you poured your heart into the song, your voice resonating through the grand hall.

But as you sang, your eyes scanned the audience, searching for Charles. When you found him, your heart sank. He wasn't watching your performance. Instead, he was at the bar, engrossed in conversation with a group of people, a drink in hand. He didn't even glance in your direction.

You fought to keep your composure, finishing the song with as much passion as you could muster. The crowd erupted in applause, but the hurt gnawed at you. As you stepped off the stage, Lewis Hamilton, Carlos Sainz, Alex Albon, and Pierre Gasly approached you, their expressions a mix of admiration and concern.

"That was incredible, Y/N," Lewis said, giving you a warm hug.

"Seriously, you were amazing," Carlos added, his smile genuine.

Alex and Pierre echoed their sentiments, but there was an undercurrent of awkwardness.

"We're sorry about Charles," Pierre said quietly, glancing towards the bar. "He should have been watching you."

You forced a smile, gratitude for their support mingling with the sting of Charles's neglect. "Thank you, guys. It means a lot."

After exchanging a few more pleasantries, you excused yourself, needing a moment to collect your thoughts. You made your way to the bathroom, the weight of the evening pressing down on you. Once inside, you locked the door behind you and leaned against the sink, the tears you'd been holding back finally spilling over.

The sound of the bustling gala outside was muted here, leaving you alone with your thoughts and your pain. You couldn't understand why Charles couldn't be there for you, why he couldn't even watch you perform for just a few minutes. The hurt and frustration were overwhelming, and you let yourself cry, the tears a cathartic release.

As you stood there, you wondered if this was something you could continue to endure. Being with someone who couldn't support you in the moments that mattered most was taking its toll. For now, though, you just needed to let the tears fall, hoping that somehow, things might get better.

but you should have seen him when he first saw me...

The apartment in Monaco was filled with the echoes of another heated argument. You were standing in the middle of the living room, tears streaming down your face, your voice rising with each word.

"Why can't you understand, Charles? I need you to be there for me! It's always about your career, your races, your commitments! This is the grammy's! the most important awards night ever! Why can't you make time for me?!" You screamed, the frustration and pain evident in every syllable.

Charles stood across from you, his face a mixture of anger and helplessness. "I do understand, Y/N, but you know how important my career is! I can't just drop everything whenever you need me!"

Your hands trembled as you wiped away the tears. "You should have seen you when you first saw me," you cried, your voice breaking. "You looked at me like I was the most important person in the world. Where did that go, Charles?"

The memory hit Charles like a punch to the gut, sending him back to the first time he saw you. It was at the Monza Grand Prix. He had just finished his race, the adrenaline still pumping through his veins, when he saw you standing near the paddock. You were talking animatedly with a friend, your smile lighting up the entire area.

Charles had stopped in his tracks, his breath catching in his throat. He remembered how his teammates teased him about looking like a lovestruck puppy, but he couldn't help it. You were captivating, and he had been instantly drawn to you.

In the present, he struggled to reconcile that moment with the reality of the argument unfolding before him. "I remember," he said quietly, his voice filled with regret. "I remember how I felt when I first saw you. But things have changed, Y/N. The demands of my career... it's not easy."

"Things have changed because you let them," you shouted, the pain in your voice cutting through him. "You let your career come between us. You promised you'd be there for me, but you're never there when I need you."

Charles took a step towards you, reaching out, but you recoiled. "Don't, Charles. I'm tired of empty promises."

He dropped his hand, feeling the weight of your words. "I don't want to lose you," he said softly, his voice breaking.

"Then start showing it," you whispered, your tears flowing freely. "Because right now, I feel like I'm losing you."

The silence that followed was heavy, filled with the unspoken fears and regrets that had been building between you. Charles stood there, torn between his love for you and the relentless demands of his career. And you, feeling the ache of his absence even when he was right in front of you, wondered if things would ever go back to how they once were.

Finally, unable to bear the silence any longer, Charles turned and left the apartment, the door closing softly behind him. You sank to the floor, the tears coming harder now, the memories of better times a bittersweet reminder of what you had lost.

he saw forever so he smashed it up..

The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast a warm light over the room as you and Charles lay entwined under the covers, the quiet hum of the city outside barely audible. His arms were wrapped around you, his heartbeat a comforting rhythm against your back. It was one of those rare, peaceful moments when everything felt just right.

You turned slightly to face him, your head resting on his chest. "Charles," you began softly, tracing patterns on his skin with your fingertips, "do you ever think about our future? Like, where we might be in a few years?"

Charles's hand stilled on your back, and you felt his body tense slightly. The question hung in the air, and a heavy silence settled over the room. You waited, expecting him to respond with his usual confident assurance, but instead, there was only hesitance.

"Charles?" you prompted, your voice quieter now, a hint of uncertainty creeping in.

He shifted slightly, looking away as if searching for the right words. "I... I don't know, Y/N," he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper.

The silence that followed felt deafening. You tried to hide the sinking feeling in your chest, forcing a small smile as you looked up at him. "It's okay," you said, attempting to sound light-hearted. "We don't have to figure it all out right now."

But the emptiness inside you grew, a hollow ache that his words had planted there. You cuddled closer, burying your face in his chest, hoping the warmth of his embrace could fill the void. Yet, the unspoken truth lingered, a shadow over the moment of intimacy.

Charles held you tighter, as if trying to reassure both you and himself. But the hesitation in his response, the uncertainty in his eyes, left you feeling more alone than ever. You had wanted a glimpse of a shared future, a promise of what could be, but instead, you were left with doubts and questions.

As you lay there in his arms, you couldn't shake the feeling of loss, the odd emptiness that settled over you. The love you shared was real, but the future you hoped for seemed suddenly fragile, like a dream that might slip away at any moment.

ill tell you that he runs because he loves me...

The lively buzz of conversation filled the upscale restaurant as you sat with Charles and a group of fellow F1 drivers—Lewis Hamilton, Carlos Sainz, Pierre Gasly, and Alex Albon. The evening had started well, laughter and camaraderie flowing easily around the table.

Charles had been in good spirits, joking and sharing stories, but after the main course, he excused himself to go to the bathroom. At first, you thought nothing of it, but as the minutes ticked by, the knot of anxiety in your stomach grew tighter.

Carlos glanced at you, his brow furrowing slightly. "Everything okay, Y/N?" he asked, his voice gentle.

You forced a smile, trying to appear unconcerned. "Yeah, he just went to the bathroom. He'll be back soon."

The conversation continued, but your eyes kept darting toward the hallway, hoping to see Charles returning. After what felt like an eternity, the worry and embarrassment began to creep in. You knew the other drivers were aware of the growing tension.

Lewis leaned closer, his expression kind but concerned. "Do you want to go check on him?"

You shook your head, swallowing hard. "No, it's fine. He runs because he loves me," you joked, trying to keep your voice steady. "He just needs a moment."

The table fell into an awkward silence. You could see the sympathy in their eyes, a silent acknowledgment that they understood more than they were letting on. It stung, their pity, but you held your head high, determined not to let your emotions show.

Pierre reached over, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. "We know he loves you, Y/N," he said softly.

Alex nodded in agreement, though his eyes mirrored the concern you felt. "Sometimes it’s just hard to see someone we care about struggle."

You nodded, biting your lip to keep the tears at bay. "Thanks, guys. I appreciate it."

Just as you began to lose hope, Charles finally reappeared, looking slightly disheveled but smiling as if nothing had happened. He slid back into his seat beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "Sorry, I took so long," he said lightly. "I got caught up talking to someone."

You nodded, leaning into him, though your heart ached with the knowledge that something was off. The rest of the evening passed in a blur, the camaraderie tainted by the lingering unease.

As you all said your goodbyes and headed home, you couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness. Charles held your hand, but the connection felt fragile, like a thread that might snap at any moment. The sympathy in the other drivers' eyes haunted you, a reminder that love alone might not be enough to bridge the growing distance between you.

he took me out my box...

The dim light of your bedroom lamp cast a soft glow over your face as you lay on your bed, your phone propped up on the pillow. Charles’s familiar features filled the screen, but there was a distance in his eyes that you couldn’t ignore. The nighttime quiet amplified the unspoken tension between you as you spoke quietly over FaceTime.

“So, how was your day?” you asked, trying to keep the conversation light.

Charles smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Busy, as usual. Lots of meetings and prep work for the next race.”

You nodded, offering a small smile in return. “I miss you. It feels like we haven’t really talked in ages.”

He glanced away for a moment, his attention seemingly captured by something offscreen. “Yeah, I miss you too,” he said absently, his focus clearly elsewhere.

The silence stretched, and you couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness. You studied his face, searching for the spark that had once been so evident. Your mind drifted back to a time when things were different, when his love had been your anchor.

It was a little over a year ago, at a time when you were at your lowest. The world seemed bleak, and you had felt utterly lost. Charles had been there, though, in a way you never expected. He spent every day by your side, offering comfort and support. He made you laugh when all you wanted to do was cry, held you close when you felt like falling apart. It was during those dark days that he had fallen for you, his love a beacon of hope that guided you through the storm.

You remembered the gentle way he would look at you, as if you were the most precious thing in the world. He would bring you your favorite tea, sit with you in silence when words were too much, and remind you every day of your worth and strength. It was those moments that made you fall in love with him, his unwavering presence and the way he seemed to understand your pain.

“Do you remember when we first started dating?” you asked softly, breaking the silence.

Charles’s eyes flickered back to you, a hint of confusion in his expression. “Of course I do,” he replied. “Why do you ask?”

You hesitated, trying to find the right words. “I was just thinking about how much you were there for me when I was going through a tough time. You spent your days looking after me, making sure I was okay. It meant the world to me.”

His face softened slightly, a small sigh escaping his lips. “Yeah, I remember. You needed someone, and I wanted to be that person for you.”

Your heart ached at his words, knowing how far things had drifted. “I needed you then, and I still need you now, Charles. I miss how close we used to be.”

He looked at you, the conflict evident in his eyes. “I’m still here, Y/N. Things are just... different now.”

The emptiness you had been trying to ignore settled heavily in your chest. “I know. It just feels like we’re growing apart, and I don’t know how to fix it.”

Charles remained silent, his gaze dropping to the floor. The connection that had once been so strong now felt fragile and tenuous.

“I love you, Charles,” you whispered, hoping to bridge the gap between you.

He looked back up at you, his expression weary. “I love you too, Y/N. I really do.”

But as the call ended and the screen went dark, you couldn’t shake the feeling of loss that lingered. The memories of better times clashed with the present reality, leaving you with a deep sense of longing for the man who had once been your everything.

im queen, of sand castles he destroys...

The tension in the air was suffocating as you and Charles stood locked in a heated argument, words flying like arrows, each one piercing deeper than the last. His face was contorted with anger, his fists clenched at his sides, and in a moment of blind rage, he reached out and grabbed the grammy award from the shelf.

"No, Charles, don't!" you cried out, but it was too late. With a violent motion, he hurled the award to the ground, the sound of shattering glass filling the room.

You gasped, the shock of his actions leaving you momentarily speechless. Tears stung your eyes as you stared at the broken pieces of your prized possession, a symbol of your hard work and dedication. Anger surged through you, hot and fierce, but it was quickly replaced by a cold, numbing emptiness.

"You... you destroyed it," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper.

Charles's chest heaved with exertion, his eyes blazing with a mixture of fury and regret. "I don't care," he spat out, his voice dripping with venom. "I'm sick of pretending like everything's fine when it's not. I can't stand being with you anymore."

The weight of his words crashed down on you like a tidal wave, leaving you reeling in disbelief. He had shattered more than just an award; he had shattered your trust, your love, everything you had built together.

Without a word, you turned away from him, your heart heavy with grief and betrayal. You couldn't bear to look at him any longer, couldn't bear to see the man you had once loved reduced to this. With trembling hands, you reached for your phone, dialing a number you never thought you'd have to call.

"Hello?" a voice answered on the other end.

"Mom," you choked out, tears streaming down your face. "Can you come over? I need you."

As you hung up the phone, you felt Charles's eyes boring into your back, but you refused to turn around. The damage had been done, irreparable and irreversible. And as you heard him storm out of the room, you knew that this was the end.

when I fix me, he's gonna miss me...

The stage was set, the crowd buzzing with anticipation as you stood under the bright lights, microphone in hand. Your heart raced with nervous excitement, knowing that tonight would be a turning point in your career. As the music swelled and the spotlight found you, you took a deep breath and began to speak.

"Thank you all for being here tonight," you said, your voice steady despite the butterflies in your stomach. "I have some exciting news to share with you all."

The audience leaned in, hanging on your every word as you made the announcement they had been waiting for. "I'm thrilled to announce that I'll be releasing a new album," you declared, a smile spreading across your face as cheers erupted from the crowd. "And not only that, but I'll be dropping the lead single tonight."

As the excitement built to a crescendo, you couldn't help but feel a surge of satisfaction. This was your moment, your chance to take control of your narrative and reclaim your power. With a sense of purpose, you raised the microphone to your lips once more.

"The lead single is titled 'My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys'," you announced, your voice ringing out clear and strong. "And to the boy who broke all his favorite toys and my fucking heart, this is one big fuck you from me to you."

The words hung in the air, charged with emotion and defiance. There was a collective gasp from the audience, followed by a thunderous applause that seemed to shake the rafters. In that moment, you knew you had struck a chord, tapping into a universal truth that resonated with people far and wide.

As you launched into the song, pouring your heart and soul into every word, you felt a sense of liberation wash over you. This was your anthem, your battle cry, and you sang it with a fierce intensity that left no doubt in anyone's mind that you were taking back control of your life.

And when the performance went viral, spreading like wildfire across social media and capturing the hearts of millions, you knew that you had made the right choice. You had turned your pain into power, your heartbreak into art, and in doing so, you had found a strength within yourself that you never knew existed.

a/n : thanks for reading! as always comments likes reblogs feedback etc is always appreciated 🤍

TAGS

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[green-swan]

cigarette or zoot? (pt. 1) | joost klein x f1! driver (fem!reader)

in which london and smoking are synonymous with meeting a cute dutch artist

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when AVROTROS approached her about eurovision, she thought they made a mistake. max was dutch. she wasn't. her lithuanian roots were deeper than any other identity she could've carved for herself. in the end she agreed; going in their cars with max around the city of malmö, visiting a few eurovision parties and most importantly, interact with joost klein (whom she didn't know, mind you) and teach him how to use an F1 simulator. this was going to be a heavy week. thank god it was in a month, right now she had a race to win.

first came the party - london was a welcome destination for the young driver. she thrived under the busy nature of it even in what some would call late, and others early, hours. she couldn't say the same for crowds though, the moving mosh of strangers all too close to each other and trying to show their superiority (the latter was aimed at men to be fair). she did see silvester, and the two had a lengthy conversation that didn't come to a conclusion but rather stayed at "what the fuck, let's make lithuania internationally famous!" she had hoped for a good place in eurovision, if not victory, while silvester (silvestras sounded more like home) had voiced his wish for her to win the upcoming miami grand prix and not only become the first female to do so, but also the first from lithuania. the pressure was on.

unfortunately, she lost silvester after getting a drink, so what really was the point of staying in the now airless room? she grabbed her drink and went to the rooftop that really should've been closed. her short frame slumped against a railing and she lit a cigarette, making it a point to hold it between her thumb and index finger. it was quiet, and london shimmered in different shades of yellow and white. so many people, some praying, some arguing, some alone. it felt peaceful despite the harsh wind that threatened to put out her cigarette.

"cigarette or zoot?" an accented voice sounded out, breaking the howls of wind. she turned around, spotting a man in what would've been a formal outfit had it not been for the pyramid-shaped shoulder pads on his blazer. joost klein, the man she was meant to interact with in front of cameras later that month. "cigarette," she answered, "though they call them something else here," she finished with an unsure smile. "i thought we couldn't bring tobacco in here?" he questioned, with a miscievous undertone in his voice. "they didn't check me, so it's on them," the driver shrugged, "why? you want one?"

"god, yes please!"

she took out another one from her pack, put it in between her glossed lips (joost thought that the gloss suited her) and lit it before giving it to the dutch man. "you know, i once tried eating a cigarette," he started, earning an incredulous look from the shorter girl. "what? did it taste good?" her curiosity was cute, "what do you think?"

"i once nearly swallowed jet fuel," she said with sympathy, "i get it."

joost knew who she was, well vaguely. the only female formula 1 driver and the only lithuanian on the grid. so why did AVROTROS want him to interact with her in addition to her dutch teammate? by that point, the wind had calmed down, an eery silence on brink of errupting had it not been for the music blasting from downstairs. she hummed a few lyrics before he spoke up, startling her heart as if she'd forgotten that he was indeed still there.

"can i take a picture of you right now?"

"why?"

"you're pretty. you look really beautiful in this moment, and i want to capture it."

she thought for a moment. "okay, if you let me take one of you after." he smiled. (he was so going to convince her to be on the cover of his next album)

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note: jumping on the joost klein bandwagon (hehe been a fan for a while! got tickets for his europapa tour so i've been riding on cloud 9). i also love formula 1 and so thought why not combine them?

as the first paragraph indicates there will be (probably short and sweet) chapters and maybe extra ones after if this goes well <3

#joost klein #justice for joost #eurovision #f1 #joost klein x reader #joost klein imagine #esc 2024

[milqueandsugar]

🌼☕` Crush, Crush, Soda! ` ☕🌼

Gen / Fluff

Includes / Alastor , Lucifer , Husk

| ALASTOR |

Shock. Horror. Dismay.

Forget wrench this is throwing a hauling truck into his plans

It's very sudden very sharp realization, like getting splashed with cold water

He was obviously aware he had taken to you, how could he not? You were polite, clever and oh so fun to carry a conversation with

Talking to you made radio seem boring!

He was not, however, aware that the other residents had noticed his kinship with you

He had over heard a conversation between Husker and the pink spider demon, where the insectoid sinner complained about how you got special treatment

Husker agreed, which was fair, but then mentioned how Alastor apparently fancied you and that was why

Fucking shock to him and Angel dust

After gripling with that cosmic terror for the night, and visiting Rosie once the clock hit an agreeable hour he had come to the conclusion that despite the impossible, he carried a flame for you

Once he calms down and rearranges his evil vision board to include you in it he lays it on THICK

He's the perfect gentleman, obviously, but he's courting you too so he goes above and beyond

Your chair? Pulled out. Your arm? Linked with his while you stroll. You? The venison steak of his eye baby

| LUCIFER |

Charming comes naturally too him, he won both eve and Lillith over bro he has bublical level rizz

He's very, very comfortable around people he knows or simply doesn't care about, totally normal around Alastor who can kick rocks but a bit antsier and anxious around Charlie

His nerves get worse when he's trying to right himself, he can care very very deeply for someone and never feel nervous around them but the second he does something wrong his anxieties and insecurities come rushing back

He's not subtle, everything he does is flirtatious but in a spur of the moment kind of way he thinks nothing through

Confidence is sexy to him so he tries to show off things he's confident in like inventing/engineering and music!!

The biggest tell he is interested in someone is how excited he is to show off to them, to show how good he could be for them, to show how he betters their life

How he does this depends on you truly, in a rough spot financially? He pays for small things at first, dinner, lunch, something cute you liked at the store then builds to anything you want because you deserve it far more than him or anyone else here

Struggling with control since selling your soul? He puts you in position of power , he shows you what your capable of, what he knows you can do but you don't

He fills your needs faster than you realize you have them, hell is for suffering but it sure does feel like heaven when you're with him

| HUSK |

He's more calculated then the two idiots above, he knows that warmth in his chest when you make his drink, or sit at his bar until he's off or fix an out of place Feather

He's so attracted to you, how real you are, how unapologetically YOU you are, and how you make room for him in everything

He's totally love struck and totally aware of it which makes it even worse

He's doing his best to plan this out while also twirling his whiskers and kicking his feet when talking about you

He's not shy about his feelings but he know being with him is a danger to you, which he can't stand for

He does his best to secure your safety before actively courting you, what's the point of loving someone if you're not putting in the effort, and boy does he put in the EFFORT

Gentlemanly like Alastor but in his own gruff way

Likes to help you do things, teach you how to do things, he likes feeling useful and he likes how you come to him when you have problems

It reminds him a bit of his overlord days, and time with you builds his confidence and back bone back to what it was before Alastor, even if you aren't dating yet

Plays lots of card games with you, won't show you the cheats be knows until your dating, gotta keep you coming back for more yknow?

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #lucifer imagine #lucifer x reader #lucifer x y/n #lucifer x you #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #alastor imagine #alastor x reader #alastor drabble #husk x y/n #husk x you #husk x reader #husk imagine