#drank a beer after too just to see if they were the ones that make u sick from alc lol

[e-paleolith]

took these over 3 days in a row. very cool

#pix #mica caps #mika caps #mushrooms #fungi #coprinellus micaceus #i actually ate some of these they were delicious #drank a beer after too just to see if they were the ones that make u sick from alc lol

[delusionsofgrandeur13]

ex boyfriend!dick grayson is distraught.

it’s been two weeks, three days, ten hours, and seven minutes since the two of you broke up. not that anyone is counting.

his days are spent with him walking around like a zombie.

batman has to practically yell into the comms link to even get a reply during patrol. dick’s not even sure he’s been putting his suit on properly. two nights ago he only went out with one escrima stick. he almost lost a fight with some goons, and one of them asked him if he had a death wish. he went home bruised, his lip bloodied, wondering if maybe he did have a death wish.

he tried going out to the store. he was out of shaving cream and eggs. dick made it as far as the produce section. he had a staring contest with the apples for ten minutes, and left without buying anything.

the first week he kept wearing hats. seeing his hair in the mirror practically made his eye twitch with the memory of you running your hands through it. he could almost hear you cooing over how nice it looks long.

“dick, you look so handsome! are you growing it out? dick, you look so handsome! are you growing it out? dick, you look so handsome! are you growing it out? dick, you look so handsome! are you growing it out? dick you look so—”

he cuts it a week later, sick of his brothers making fun of him for the hats and sick of your voice in his ear.

he barely touches his hair now, his hands nothing compared to the way yours felt on his scalp. almost every other night he cries in the shower, thinking about the way your eyes would flash when you’d offer to wash his hair for him. you’d always bite your lip in this cute way when you slicked all his hair back, the soap fluffy in your hands. you’d wiggle your eyebrows and call him distinguished, and then pull it up into a mohawk and tell him to call up jason and ask to join the outlaws. a few nights ago he made the mistake of looking at your razor, still on the shower caddy. he cried so hard his head hurt the next morning like he’d had a hangover.

his family stops whispering when he enters rooms, their worry and concern growing more obvious by the day. alfred won’t stop feeding him. bruce keeps looking him over, his eyebrows furrowed. jason left at least four self help books on his coffee table and in his cubby in the batcave. tim took over all of the video surveillance batman had assigned him, waving him away when dick tried to insist it was okay, and that he could do it. steph wouldn’t stop high fiving him? cass hugged him, at least three times. wally tried to get him to go out, but dick drank one beer and left, walking home in the pouring rain like he was in a music video. wally took the hint, but started texting him good morning, every day. even damian stopped picking on him, instead asking to spar just so dick would have something else to think about. it didn’t work, obviously, but he’d mussed damian’s hair, giving him a wan smile on the way out of the practice room. he’d left immediately after.

he spent the rest of the day at home thinking about how he’d always let you win when the two of you would play wrestle. you had this expression you’d make right before, where your eyes would squint a little and the corner of your mouth would turn up. the whole time you’d dated, dick was never able to figure out if it was because you were about to play fight or fuck. he loved it.

his nights are full of tossing and turning.

he spent the first week not washing his sheets, sleeping face down on your side of the bed. the second week he washed his sheets every night, trying to rid his nose of the phantom smell of you. the pillowcase you used is shoved deep into his linen cabinet. he now sleeps on the couch. he had to wash all of his t shirts too, the ones you’d steal to wear to bed with nothing under. he rummaged through his dresser in his old room in Wayne Manor hoping to find ones to wear that didn’t smell like you. ones that didn’t make him think of you pulling them off in the middle of the night, to then sink down onto his cock. you’d toss it onto the ground while you straddled him, smiling down at him.

he couldn’t sit and watch tv without thinking of all the times he’d gone down on you on the couch.

couldn’t brush his teeth without seeing the last time he’d bent you over the sink, thrusting into you while your breath fogged the bathroom mirror.

he couldn’t go out to eat at any of the restaurants by his apartment without seeing the two of you at a table, you stealing one of his fries or swapping sandwiches to try the other’s order.

he still couldn’t go to the little family-owned grocery store, not when the old couple that ran it knew both of you by name.

couldn’t look at his keys without seeing the keychains you’d bought him.

his every waking moment was spent with thinking of you, all you, always you.

you were everywhere,

he thought about how you’d beamed when he’d first asked you out, your eyes shining when you’d nodded yes.

how surprised you’d looked when he finally told you he was nightwing, and how you made him pinky swear to be careful.

he couldn’t appreciate enough how you had always been gracious when he’d show up late to dates, bruce always needing his help with something or other.

he thought of the way you’d looked washing the dishes, up to your elbows in suds when he’d roll in from the window, coming up behind you to kiss you and push you over to the couch while he’d finished the dishes, still in his nightwing suit.

what you’d looked like when you opened the promise ring he got you, and showed you his matching one. you’d both gotten teary eyed then.

the way you tried to hide the fact you’d been crying when he came home from patrol one night.

when your expression would change after he’d tell you he had to miss a family dinner at your mom’s house. you thought he wouldn’t notice but c’mon, he was trained by batman.

how your face had crumpled like his heart did when he had realized what he needed to do. when he had said he loved you more than anything, but knew that you deserved to be treated better, and that he couldn’t give you that right now. couldn’t give you all of his time like he wanted to.

you’d accepted it, nodding while tears slipped down your cheeks silently, walking out of his apartment to go stay at your mom’s house.

it’d been two weeks, three days, ten hours, and seven minutes, yet dick hadn’t accepted it. and your toothbrush was still next to his. so he didn’t think you’d really accepted it either.

but yet, you were now nowhere.

#boys DO cry. #boys named richard grayson. #lowkey want to get them back together #get y/n and dick back together 2024 #who’s with me #dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x you #dick grayson x y/n #dick grayson x female!reader #ex bf!dick grayson #ex boyfriend!dick grayson #richard grayson #dick grayson smut #dc comics smut #nightwing #nightwing x reader #nightwing x you #nightwing x y/n #the batboys x you #—ness writes

[badjokesbyjeff]

There were three race horses; ernie, bill, and ted. 

the three of them were good friends; they enjoyed racing each other and generally won and lost to each other equally. every evening, after the races, they went to a local bar to relax and drink some beer. they would often discuss racing techniques, their families, etc.

one season, bill wasn't doing so well. he rarely beat the other two, and was worried that he'd be sent to the glue factory if his luck didn't change. one night, at the bar, he talked with ernie and ted about it.

"you know, guys, i just can't figure it out," he said. "everything's fine at home; the kids are doing great, my wife is being nice, the bills are paid, my mother-in-law rarely visits - nothing could be better. maybe i'm just getting old. if things don't pick up soon, they'll send me to the glue factory."

the bartender, a big llama from peru, overheard the conversation. he looked around, to make sure nobody else was listening, then said, "hey, pal, i got something for you that'll make you feel like a young colt again." he reached under the bar and pulled out an unlabeled bottle of beer. "here, drink this; i guarantee you'll start winning again. come by each night for a week and I'll give you one. if it doesn't work, i'll give you double your money back!"

bill looked at ernie and ted, who only shrugged, then drank the contents of the bottle. "oh, just one thing," the llama said, "it'll make your ass itch, but that's okay; it's just a side effect. don't worry about it." the three horses stayed a few hours, played a few games of pool and darts, and went home.

over the course of the next three days, they went back to the bar each night, and bill continued the regimen of mystery beer. his racing times did improve! he was slowly moving back up in the rankings, and was soon back into the top three with ernie and ted. bill was ecstatic, and thanked the llama profusely.

"hey, my pleasure," said the llama.

a few weeks passed by, and ernie started slowing down. after losing three races in a row, he sobbed to himself, "i just don't get it. my life couldn't be better. i can't believe I'm getting old! they'll send me to the glue factory if i don't get back in the groove!"

that evening, at the bar, he told the llama bartender about his troubles, and asked if he too could try the mystery beer. "okay, but remember, it'll make your ass itch - but don't pay it no mind. it's just a harmless side effect."

"no problem. it'll be worth it to get back in the groove," ernie said.

a few days went by. ernie's ass did indeed itch, but after a few more days, his races improved, and he was back in the top three with bill and ted.

at the bar one evening, ernie bought a round of beers for all the horses, and thanked the llama profusely.

"i just can't believe how great that mystery beer worked!" ernie said. "you're sitting on a gold mine, there!" the llama said it was his pleasure, don't worry about it, etc.

a few more weeks went by, and now ted started slowing down, losing races. he, too realized that he'd be shipped off to the glue factory unless his races improved.

"say," he said to the llama one night after a particularly humiliating loss, "i think i need to try that mystery beer too. they'll ship me off to the glue factory for sure if I don't start winning again."

"no problem," the llama said, pulling out an unlabeled bottle. "here. come back every night, and i guarantee you'll be back in top form again, or i'll give you double your money back."

over the course of the next few weeks, ted's races continued to improve until he was back in the top three with bill and ernie. he pranced into the bar, full of vim and vigor, and thanked the llama profusely. "you know, my ass itches a lot; it's almost unbearable. but i can't thank you enough. they would have turned me into glue by now if it weren't for you. anything you want, let me know and i'll see what i can do."

"no problem," said the llama, "i make this beer at home using an ancient inca recipe. it's just my way of thanking my regular customers for their patronage over the years."

"i'm not kidding," ted said, "this is the greatest thing that's ever happened to me. anything, you name it, anything you want, let me know, and it's yours."

"well, now that you mention it..." the llama began -

right then, a greyhound walked up to the bar. he was obviously depressed.

"barkeep, give me something strong. i'm on a losing streak you wouldn't believe," the greyhound said.

ted looked at the greyhound, then at bill and ernie, and said, "hey, look! a talking dog!"

#funny #jokes #humor #lol #comedy

[gracieheartspedro]

How Long

pairing: f!reader x brother-in-law!joel miller

description: your boyfriend tommy miller is a cheating bastard. luckily, your brother-in-law joel is nice enough to help you get your mind off of it.

word count: 5.1k

warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, pre!outbreak joel, this is porn, joel is a consent king though!, talk of horrible sex life, cheating, unprotected p in v, fingering, oral (f and m receiving), dirty talk, multiple orgasms, pet names

author's note: hey lovers (; I have been teasing this one awhile. i may continue this if you guys like it a lot. this was a request from an anon, i hope they like it!! i'm almost at 400 followers and I was gonna release this when I hit that, but I am too excited to share this. leave me your thoughts! my requests are still open! <3

You and Tommy went way back. You had crushed on him since high school, his charisma was hypnotic and you were hooked the moment he asked for your phone number. You became borderline obsessed. He was the ideal boyfriend. A huge mama’s boy, respectful, and hilarious. 

You hadn’t ever questioned Tommy’s intentions with you. You two even talked marriage. 

It wasn’t until his 26th birthday that you noted a shift in his behavior and when everything officially fell apart. You had just spent all afternoon at his brother, Joel’s, house. You and Joel arranged a surprise birthday barbeque and you were so excited to spend his special day with him and his whole family.

The whole day, you lied and said you were going for a girls day out with your sister, who was newly single. Instead, you and Joel slaved over the stove making Tommy’s favorites. You also decorated the shit out of Joel’s whole house, with the help of his tween daughter, Sarah. 

Joel told him to come over to help with fixing up his truck, but in actuality you all jumped out of your hiding spots and yelled “happy birthday!”

He hardly reacted. He was dazed seeing your beautiful smile peak up behind Joel’s recliner. 

His attitude was distant the whole night. He wouldn’t kiss you, and pulled away every time you went in to wrap your arms around his waist. He drank way more than you expected, tallying up about 10 beers. 

Joel noticed it, too. 

Joel even asked if he should start taking it easy and cool it on the beer. That only pissed Tommy off, which lead you to break up an argument in front of their own mother. Joel was annoyed, noting how shitty Tommy was being towards you. He was ready to fight his own brother on his birthday.

After the festivities and helping Joel with the dishes, you bid the whole family farewell. Tommy was too drunk to drive home, so you knew you would take him home in your Toyota Corolla, telling Joel you’d be back tomorrow to get his truck. 

“Drive safe you two,” Joel said in the driveway after assisting Tommy to the car. Even after Tommy yelled and fussed at him, he still gladly accepted Joel’s help. He knew he couldn’t walk any more than 50 feet. You smiled watching them, happy they could make amends so quickly, and started up your engine. 

The whole ride home, Tommy kept checking his flip phone. The screen would light up into his glazed over eyes and he’d huff in frustration. 

“Everything okay, baby?” You finally decide to ask. 

You glance over in his direction and you could tell he was annoyed by the question. You bite the inside of your cheek, anticipating him to blow up at you next. 

Tommy was not a nice drunk. He would blow up at the drop of a hat. There’d been countless times where he’d pick a fight with you after you picked him up from a bar or a friend’s house. You learned not to talk on any rides home when he was drinking. But you couldn’t help yourself. 

“You want my honest answer?”

Of course, you did. But when he says it like that?

“What is it, Tommy?”

He clears his throat, “I’m fuckin’ your sister.”

You felt your world crashing around you in that instant. You slam on your breaks on a main road, unable to actively drive due to the shocking news. You pull off into an abandoned parking lot, your hands shaking as you throw the car in park. 

“What?”

You didn’t even want to look over at him, your eyes welling with tears. 

“Yeah,” Is all he says, his voice changing, “I’m sick of lyin’. It’s only been a couple times. But she wants to meet back up.”

His drunk honesty was like vomit coming out of his mouth. Constant and sickening. He was so heartless with his words. This wasn’t your Tommy. What made everything so much worse was that it was your fucking little sister. You two didn’t have the best relationship, but you still cared deeply for her. This was the ultimate betrayal. You couldn’t believe that she, of all people, would try to destroy your picture perfect life.

Not so picture perfect anymore.

The soft hum of the radio takes up the air. You felt like you could suffocate with all of the tension. 

“How long?”

He chuckles lowly, “Longer than I’d probably like to admit. Why do you think her ex dumped her?”

You finally turn to him. He looked remorseless, not even batting an eye at your distraught expression.

“Get the fuck out of my car, Tommy,” You say sternly, “I don’t want to see your face ever again.”

“Oh come on baby,” He groans, “At least take me home.”

“Get,” The tears begin to fall, “Out. Now.”

He throws his hands up in surrender, “Fine, don’t want to watch you cry, anyway. Makes me feel like shit.”

He opens the car door and you watch as he stumbles out. He practically falls on the concrete, his footing wobbly from the alcohol. If you were as callous as him, you’d back your car right over him, but instead you sped off as soon as the door slammed shut. 

Your hands are still vibrating, unsure of what to do next, you pick up your phone and dial Joel. 

He answers after three rings. 

“‘Sup, sweetheart?”

His Southern drawl is hushed, like he was trying to be quiet for someone. It was late, maybe he was putting Sarah to bed. 

“Your brother.”

It’s all you could say before breaking out into a deep sob. He becomes panicked, immediately springing into older brother mode, begging you to tell him where you were. 

You finally catch your breath, “He’s a cheating bastard. He fucked my sister and I left him in the old Hecht’s parking lot.”

Joel lets out a long sigh, “Where are you?”

“I’m driving,” You mutter, choking back more sobs you feel coming up, “I can’t go home.”

You knew going home would be painful. All the photos lining your walls of you and Tommy. The pictures with your own sister. All of his belongings scattered all over the house. You knew you’d spiral, untangling the mess and missed signs. 

“Come back to my house,” He suggests, “I’ll go get Tommy and take him home. The back door will be unlocked, just come right in and settle down. Make some tea or somethin’.”

You nod even though he can’t see you. 

Joel was the older brother you never had. He was mature and honest. You had come to him a couple times to analyze Tommy and his behavior. It didn’t happen often, but he was great at advice. You trusted him. He was family to you.

“Thanks Joel,” You wipe your tears, “See you in a bit.”

-

Luckily Sarah was fast asleep upstairs, snuggled up soundly, while you tried to contain your sobs. You couldn’t believe how drastically this evening turned.

Tommy cheated on you with your sister.

The man you were hoping to marry and settle down with? The one who was adored by your parents? The one you told all your darkest secrets to?

You had no clue how he would ever come back from this. And he did it with your sister?

You still could not grasp that it was her. The girl who always came to you for boy advice? Hell, she came to you last week asking about a guy she had be-

It was fucking Tommy. She wanted advice on how to woo your fucking boyfriend. 

You wanted to strangle her too, but who knows what lies he may have been leading. You wanted the whole story, but you didn’t want to open a can of worms so late in the evening. You weren’t going to be sleeping, plagued by your own thoughts and emotions.

You’re curled up on Joel’s couch, using his huge knitted blanket as a cape. You turned on the TV only to give your cries some background noise.

Just when you stop the tears, Joel walks in with this look on his face. Disappointment. Rage. 

“How ya holdin’ up, sweet girl?”

Joel had tons of pet names for you, but that was a new one. He has always called you anything but your actual name. 

“Not good,” You say, choking back more tears. You were practically all cried out, your cheeks were stained bright red. Joel shuffles over to you, dropping his keys down on the coffee table. He plops down on the couch next to me.

“He’s a fuckin’ idiot,” He mutters, patting your unclothed thigh. Maybe it was the words he said that sent goosebumps up your body, not the fact he took a long second to remove his hand from your leg.

“I just can’t… Why would he do this?”

He huffs, shrugging his broad shoulders, “I asked him and he said it’s cuz you ain’t puttin’ out like you used to. Said that your sister came onto him and he couldn’t say no.”

It felt like another stab to the heart. You and Tommy had sex like three times a week. Every time he came inside you and praised you. You on the other hand, never came and had grown sick of having to finish yourself off every time it happened. So yeah, maybe you weren’t the eager youngin’ you were before, but you still fucked him whenever he wanted.

“That’s horseshit! I fuck him all the time. He is just… he’s a fucking cheating bastard. I just can’t believe it was her. Like what man fucks around with his girl’s own sister? He knows better.”

You’re trying to rationalize his behavior in your head. But Joel is not as kind.

“He obviously doesn’t, sweet girl. He…” He drifts off, catching himself for saying how he truly felt about his brother. Once he looks into your puffy red eyes, his tune changes, “He’s a stupid motherfucker for letting a girl like you go. Don’t know much about your sister, but she has some explainin’ to do, too.”

Your heart flutters a bit. Joel’s accent was so much more pronounced when he was angry, it was kind of hot. Why are you thinking that right now?

“I just can’t believe he would do something so… heartless. He didn’t even act sorry, Joel.”

“The alcohol made him bold, that’s for sure. Doesn’t ‘cuse the behavior, but ya know,” He sits back into his couch, “‘m sorry, sweetheart.”

You turn to face him, “Makes me think of the time he accused me of cheating.”

“He accused you of cheatin’? When?”

It was years ago, right after your 21st birthday. Joel and Tommy took you and a couple of your friends out to a club in downtown Austin. You took so many shots, you ended up dancing a bit too close with Joel. It led to a fight you had never brought up to Joel himself, but nonetheless, Tommy thought you had a thing for his older brother.

Sure, Joel was nice. He was a bit more serious than Tommy, always trying to be the rational one. He was an excellent and present father, dedicating his entire life to raising Sarah. He had similar features to Tommy. Tall, dark hair, beautiful brown eyes. When you talked to him, those eyes of his were so laser focused on what you said, sometimes you found yourself stumbling over your words. 

Maybe it was a little crush. 

“It was years ago,” You confess, looking down at your bitten back cuticles, “He thought I had a thing for you.”

His eyes zero in on your lips, like he’s trying to take the words out of your mouth, one by one.

“A thing? What type of thing?”

You shake your head, pushing your face into your hands. This wasn’t something you wanted to talk about, especially not now. But it was distracting you from thinking about what you could’ve done. Instead, you’re reminding yourself of all the shitty things Tommy has done over the years. That “perfect boyfriend” you had in the beginning was falling apart a long time ago. You just hadn’t seen the signs right in front of you. Now here they are, splattered all over the floor.

“He thought you and I had a bit too much fun on my 21st, I don't know! He always acted so weird when I talked about you. You’re like my brother, I would never cross that line.”

The silence in the room was deafening. You finally raise your head, looking at Joel’s contemplative face. 

“Never?”

You stare at him, looking for a smile to crack across his face. Like it was a joke or something.

But it wasn’t.

The air in the room shifted.

“Joel,” You mumble, before his fingers reach up and trace your bottom lip gently, “We can’t.”

“Why ‘cause I’m like your brother, or ‘cause you’re still banking on kissin’ and makin’ up with Tommy?”

It was a fair question. Making up with Tommy was never even a question, though. After being burned so harshly, you didn’t see any redemption. He was done for. Once that confession slipped past his lips, he was as good as gone. 

This would be the greatest revenge. Fucking his brother?

What could you lose?

Joel could be your rebound. Something to ease the harsh sting you still felt in your heart. You start to feel guilty pile in the pit of your tummy. But then you hear Tommy’s words ringing in your head. 

“I’m fuckin’ your sister.”

Yeah, you could use some revenge. 

“You can’t tell him,” You murmur, making sure it’s in a whisper. Even if you wanted this to be revenge, you didn’t want Tommy to know, “Ever.”

“It’ll be between you and me, baby girl.”

You nod, finally accepting his offer. He grabs your legs and pulls you into his lap. You never thought you’d see the day where you would be mounted on top of Joel Miller. His eyes feasted on you in a way that sent tingles straight down to your core.

“I can’t lie, baby girl,” He purrs, his hands tracing you from your thighs all the way up to your shoulders, “I have thought this scenario out countless times.”

“Really?”

“Of course,” His hand finds its way to your neck, “Seein’ you at family barbeques, watchin’ you at bars with Tommy. Always wanted to pull you into a bathroom and get a feel of these,” He runs his hands down your chest, catching the edge of your yellow tank top. Tommy’s favorite color on you. He pulls it down, revealing your white bra underneath. It was your favorite push up, a Christmas present from Tommy. 

He was littering your body, but instead of Tommy’s hands removing every trace of himself away from your body, it was his brother.

Joel doesn’t take note of your dazed expression, he’s too focused on your cleavage spilling over your bra. His fingers trace back to the clasp, his fingers expertly unhooking it. It sent chills down your back, while your boobs fall further out of the bra. He helps you shimmy it off your front, his eyes lighting up when your boobs rest right in his eyeline.

“Fuckin’ Christ,” He groans, his thumb and pointer finger tugging on your left nipple. You hiss, letting yourself get out of your own head for a moment. Your boobs were extremely sensitive, which is why every man you’d ever been with used that to their advantage. Instead of treating your pussy to a good time, they just toyed with your nipples while drilling into you, which usually had you cumming after a couple minutes. Deep down, you wished Tommy had actually gave your pussy the time of day. Eat you out, finger you until you saw stars. But he never had “time for that”. 

His words.

Joel wraps his lips around your nipple, letting his tongue circle around your areola. He uses his open hand to massage your other tit. Once he releases your nipple, he leaves love bites at the swell of your boobs. He groans at your reaction, which was grinding your hips achingly slow across his lap.

“Mmm,” You hum, your hands finding his brown locks, “More.”

“‘m not gonna fuck you here,” He scowls, “Gonna take you to my bed.”

Without warning, he stands up, gripping onto your thighs to take you with him. You yelp in shock, throwing your arms around his neck. 

“I got you,” He states, walking down the hall to his bedroom. You had been in there before, only to grab his wallet one day when you guys were in a rush to get to Sarah’s soccer game. 

It was only slightly messy and smelled like him. Clean laundry and strawberry shampoo. 

You were thrown atop his unmaid sheets, bouncing a bit at the impact. You decide to use the time of Joel crawling onto to the bed, to completely discard your tank top. Joel’s body takes over yours, his one hand propping him up, the other feeling your sides and scooping up your breast. 

“Think I’m gonna take my time with you,” He grunts, his hand finding your short’s belt loops, “Make you forget everythin’ and focus on me.”

You nod, agreeing to his terms. 

He sits back on his knees, tugging down your shorts and thong. He hisses as soon as he notes the wetness on your lacey panties. Once he tosses the items beside the bed, he nudges your knees apart. 

“Damn, baby girl,” He just looks at you completely spread for him, shaking his head in disbelief, “Tommy’s a fuckin’ idiot. Could look at this pussy every minute of every day.”

You moan before you can retaliate, your mind responding to his fingers tracing your slit up and down. You watch him crawl up you, his lips so close to yours. You two hadn’t even kissed yet, instantly going to tearing each other’s clothes off. It felt more intimate, more real. 

He finally leans in, pursing his lips to meet yours. 

Joel was gentler than expected. Tommy was always hurried, his kisses only to warm you up a bit. You never really kissed during sex either, because he always had you doggy, which wasn’t ideal for kisses. 

Joel’s kisses took your breath away. He was slow and methodical, slipping his tongue into your mouth. You finally decide to pull him down onto your naked body, his hips settling between yours. The action made him a bit more eager, as he grinded his crotch into your wet center. 

“Gonna have me cumming in my jeans, sweet thing,” He laughs, pulling away from your swollen lips. He crawls back down the bed, his shoulders resting between your thighs this time. 

“What are you doing?” You ask, hesitantly. 

He smiles again, “‘m gonna eat this beautiful pussy of yours. Unless you don’t want me to.”

You had no real objections, it just something you had never fully enjoyed with anyone else before. You were willing to see what Joel Miller could bring to the table. You nod your head in agreement, letting him rest his hand on your lower tummy, holding you in place for his mouth. He ducks down, pressing small kisses over your clit. His actions already had you writhing under his touch. 

He continues on, gripping your stomach a bit harder as he explores your pussy with his tongue. He switches between sucking and licking, eventually settling with running his tongue in circles inside of you. You were a groaning mess, your hand eventually finding your mouth so you could control the volume. You didn’t want to embarrass yourself with how loud you could be. He stops as soon as you do it. 

“You ain’t gotta do that,” He says, his mouth wet with your slick, “I wanna hear those pretty little moans of yours. Don’t worry about anyone hearin’ ya.”

You take your hand off your mouth and he continues on with his assault on your folds. It’s sending you into overdrive, watching him go down on you. He was so hot, splayed out between your thighs, devouring you whole. 

His exploration ends with him wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking you up like a straw. You couldn’t believe how good the vibration felt. 

You were feeling that heat in your stomach, so as soon as Joel slipped his hand up and began adding fingers inside you, you knew you were done for. He starts with two, fucking you slowly and systematically. He curls his fingers up like a hook, his lips still wrapped around your bud. 

This was it. This is what you were missing. 

Your unrestrained pleas don’t fall on deaf ears. Your orgasm hits you like a semi-truck. You reach for anything in your vicinity, which happened to be Joel’s hair and his white sheets. He didn’t let up on you as you came around his fingers, fucking you through it. 

“Holy f-fuck,” You stutter, “Joel what the fuck?”

“We are just gettin’ started, sweetheart,” He states, standing up beside the bed to take his clothes off. His cock was standing at attention in his boxers before he tore them off. 

Tommy was above average, but Joel was well endowed. 

You gape at the view, unable to really form a coherent sentences. 

“You’re droolin’,” He jokes, finding his way back on top of you. You giggle, letting the joke roll of your shoulder, instead of letting it embarrass you. He finds your lips again, kissing you roughly this time. You could tell he was aching for you, his hips finding their way between yours again. 

“Oh,” You say, feeling his tip nudge your folds, “I’m on birth control, by the way.”

“I assumed so,” He states plainly, kissing your neck and chest, “Won’t cum in you unless you want me to.”

You grin, “You’re all about consent, ain’t ya?”

He laughs, “You’re in control here, baby girl. ‘M just here to get your mind off all the shit.”

You have never been so enamored by a man in your life. He was saying all the right things, but you knew in your heart he wasn’t just saying anything. Joel was a genuine guy. He never lied to you or belittled you.

The longer you’re under him the more you start to realize that this is what you’ve wanted all along. 

He brings you back to reality with an feverish kiss, drawing you back to the moment. His hands trail down your side, tickling you a bit. 

“Hey,” You murmur, pulling away from his delicious mouth, “I want to… I uh-“

You don’t know how to say it. To be honest, you and Tommy were in a routine with sex so you didn’t know how to ask to suck someone off. You usually just did it first to get it done and over with. But you felt like you needed to do it for Joel, not out of obligation, but because you wanted to see him squirm under your touch. You have thought about it more than once. 

“Words, sweetheart.”

“Let me suck your dick.”

He smiles, letting out a slight chuckle at your demand. He never thought he’d hear that coming from your mouth. He waits a second, acting like he’s seriously contemplating the offer. 

Of course he was going to accept. 

You sit up, giving him more space to lay down next to you. You crawl over his legs, settling between his calves. His cock was red, the veins so prominent. It was just waiting for you. He tucks his one arm behind his head, propping it up to watch you put on a show. 

“Let me know if I’m doing okay,” You ask sheepishly. You wanted to punch yourself for saying something so stupid. You were never confident in your abilities and you didn’t want to disappoint Joel. 

He nods, watching you grab onto his shaft with your hands, “You’ll do great, baby girl.”

You spit into your hands once you realize you need more lubrication. You crouch more, jerking him off slowly. He is already so reactive, throwing his head back against his headboard.

You begin to tease him, peppering kisses onto his shaft and tip as it leaked. You smile when you hear him hiss at you toying with him. You finally wrap your lips around his dick, sucking in your cheeks as you pull your head back. He was so big you couldn’t physically get your mouth completely down his length. He was girthy, too, which didn’t help either when it came to almost unhinging your jaw to take all of him. 

“Such a good girl,” He praises, taking your hair into his grip, “You ain’t gotta take it all.”

The reassurance was comforting. You didn’t feel any pressure with Joel, which only made him more desirable in your eyes. 

You watch his face twist in delight every time you take him into your mouth, wrapping his cock in your saliva. 

“Keep doin’ that and ‘m gonna cum in that mouth,” His drawl is so buttery and deep, your center literally clenches.

You pull off of him, gaining some confidence in your bedroom talk. 

“Need that done somewhere else.”

He shakes his head, sitting up more to manhandle you up to his lap. As you slide across his body, you feel his wet cock touch your inner thighs.

Your mouth falls open as soon as his hands grab your hips and settle you right over his length. You are on your knees on either side of his thighs, looking down at him and his absolutely spent expression. His curls were standing in all different directions and his eyes were dark with anticipation.

“Want me to do the honors?”

He grabs his cock, positioning it right below your opening. Your lips twitch upward, shaking your head positively.

He lines you up, pushing his hips upward. He is stretching you immediately, the angle making you crumble under his touch already. Your legs practically give out when he’s partially sheathed in you, which causes you just to sit and take the rest of him in you. 

“Oh my fucking god,” You moan out, shutting your eyes to soak in every twitch, “I have never been this fucking full.”

Your eyes fly open, realizing what you just insinuated.

“Don’t worry, baby girl. I knew he wasn’t givin’ you exactly what you needed,” He starts to guide your hips to circle his, “I give you what you need.”

You never expected him to be so confident, but it was so hot. You rested your hands on his pecks and started easing yourself up and down onto his length. His lips flick upward, watching you get yourself off on his dick. He loved watching you like this, just enjoying yourself.

After a minute, he realizes he can’t let you be the only one doing the work. You were so in your own world, riding him and feeling every inch of him. Your blissed out mind gets over taken when he grabs you and rolls on onto your back. He is on his knees as he grabs your legs with both of his hands, spreading you out. He grinds into you, his cock hitting you at a different angle now. 

You moan out, reaching out to grab his shoulders. He takes the hint and dips down to capture your lips again, caging your body between his. He picks up the pace when you start to press your tongue forward into his mouth. You can’t help but whimper at how good he feels. 

“You fuck me so good,” You mewl. He was panting, his hot breath fanning your wildly tangled hair. He takes his bottom lip between his teeth, focusing on making you feel good. Every pump inside you brought you closer to that familiar warm feeling. He notices your heat clenching around him, which makes him want to change up his technique. He pushes off the pillows, grabbing your hips and slamming into you at a rate you didn’t know Joel was capable of. 

“God, I can’t believe how fuckin’ good you feel, baby,” He pants, his thumb finding your swollen bud. As soon as he puts pressure there, you’re screaming out. “Mhm, that feel good? This cock better than his?”

“Yes, Joel, oh my god!”

He doesn’t let up. He wants to see you fall apart so bad, knowing those beautiful whimpers will send him into ecstasy. 

“Cum for me, baby girl. Know you’re aching to,” He clenches his teeth, “Let go.”

You have never had your vision go white when you orgasm. It’s like you’re about to see the gates to Heaven. He holds your body, making sure to feel every nerve in your body fire off into euphoria. You don’t even know what you’re saying, you just know it’s an iteration of his name and a bunch of cuss words as you reach your peak.

You were absolutely obsessed. You knew it as soon as the come down brought back your vision and you saw Joel. He was throwing his head back while painting your insides with his cum. He looks so delicious, his entire toned upper body glistening with sweat. 

He had to be the only man in the world, in that moment. 

Once he pulls out, you truly realize how sensitive your core is. You shiver, feeling his cum trickling down your backside. You wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. You just fucked your boyfriend’s brother. And it was the best sex you’d ever had in your life. 

You thought you’d feel that all too familiar regret, but instead you just look over at Joel as he flops down next to you. He’s staring at you, a slight smirk playing on his lips. You were trying to find the right words to say to him. He just did the Lord’s work. 

Do you say thank you?

“You okay,” He asks while he runs his hand up your arm, causing goosebumps to litter your skin. 

You grin, “I’m okay.”

“Do you want to stay here tonight?” 

He was worried you’d go home and see Tommy passed out on the couch where he left him and regret everything. He knew you would probably stay here anyway, but he anticipated you taking the guest room next to Sarah’s. 

But you weren’t going to take the guest room. No, you wanted to spend the rest of the night in his arms. Maybe even go for round two. 

“As long as I get to stay right here,” You purr, taking his hand from your arm. You bring it up to your lips and kiss his fingers, “Right beside you.”

END

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #the last of us #joel miller the last of us #joel miller one shot #pedro pascal #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x reader smut #brother in law joel miller #tommy miller #gracieheartspedro

[love-that-we-were-in]

lighting the fuse might result in a bang

pairing: frat!luke castellan x reader summary: Silena thinks you need to start blowing off some steam. You think you just need a fresh victory and Luke Castellan is the perfect opponent. word count: 5.3k warnings: smoking, drinking, usual college party stuff.

author's note: brought to you by my personal deep dark history with boys in hats. also i haven't gotten drunk in like 4/5 years so i don't remember what it's like so this was interesting. also i don't know anything about frats OR smoking. have the most fun <3

When Silena mentions a party you could go to, you jump at the offer, brain fuzzing at the edges where you’ve been locked in on flashcards all afternoon. It’s something you’ve started to navigate better this year, remembering to have fun after a year of non-stop focus. Silena makes it easier - a social butterfly with no qualms about dragging you out of the library when she thinks you’re pushing yourself too hard - and there’s no harm in listening to her without protest sometimes. 

“Do you even know who’s throwing this one?” You ask as she’s leading you through campus, rubbing at your arms to fight the fall chill. “I do not want a repeat of March.” 

“Have some faith in me. I’ve started vetting my sources.” 

Both of you shiver, the memory of a night spent outside the Stolls’ cramped dorm still haunting you six months later. You’re not overly familiar with this side of campus, turning away from the usual halls and towards the sorority housing, but Silena walks the path with ease, arm looped through yours.

The walk seems to have cleared your head, the music as you approach shaking off the last of the static. You’ve been here before, borrowing notes from a teammate, but it’s different like this, all pumping bass and cheers from the kitchen. Clarisse waves at you from across the room, beer in hand, and you mutter to Silena that you’re going to grab a drink. She nods, making a beeline for Drew Tanaka. You assume that’s who the invitation came from originally.

There’s a different energy to the kitchen, not quieter by any means but less noisy. Less concentrated, maybe, with twenty different conversations happening at once and nothing you have to pay attention to. Most people you don’t recognise, a group from your first year stats class huddled together near the sink, and the Stolls off to the side pointing at every new person they see. 

Mixing your drink is an easy fix, the kitchen island covered in more choices than you’ve seen in a while, and you savor the first few sips. Between class and swimming, you’ve barely drank since the semester began and the burn of vodka isn’t as numbed as you wish it was. Still, a drink is a drink so you refill it before returning to the thick of the party. 

Clarisse takes it upon herself to drag you away from the conversation you end up trapped in with Lee Fletcher, quite literally taking hold of your elbow. You mutter an apology, however disingenuous, rolling your eyes in mock exasperation as he smiles grimly. 

“I have no idea how you talk to that lot,” she says when you’re far enough away. “They’re all boring.” 

“Lee’s great. He always lends me notes from the lectures I miss.”

She laughs, pushing you into another room. “He’s trying to swindle a date out of you and you’re using him for lecture notes.” 

You shrug. There’s nothing wrong with Lee, except that Clarisse is a little right when she says most of your classmates are boring. It’s probably not intentional, and they definitely don’t realize it, but there’s this way they carry themselves around campus - half-nervous and half-haughty. It’s not a great combination and it’s why you gravitate towards the people Silena meets. 

“We were wondering when we were going to see you next,” Chris says as he throws an arm over Clarisse’s shoulder. You still don’t quite know the story there, how Chris Rodriguez managed to sweet talk your stoic teammate. One day, you’ll find out - a drunken vow you made with Silena on your dorm room floor when Clarisse mentioned a boyfriend - but you’re content to let them enjoy their romance in peace for now. “Almost thought you’d succumbed to the dark side.”

“You’re not getting rid of me yet.”

“And thank god,” he knocks his cup against yours before gesturing to the far corner of the room. “Because we need someone to kick Castellan’s ass at beer pong.” 

“Whose?”

Turns out, Luke Castellan is the newest brother to ksig. There’s not much to know about Chris’ fraternity in your eyes, just the basics of all frats, and you know from last year that there’s always bound to be a hotshot that needs someone to pump the brakes on their ego. Usually, they’re on the younger side, with more money than sense and they don’t expect anything from your approach. Luke Castellan isn’t quite that, but he’s not far from it either.

While Chris talks to the boy who was about to play, you take the opportunity to size up your opponent. It comes naturally, a part of constantly competing, and it comes in handy in moments like this, when the element of surprise is a key factor to the situation going ahead. 

Fitted jeans, branded polo and a stupid snapback cap worn backwards to show how cool he is. Nothing you haven’t seen before, really, except there’s this focused glint in his eyes with each plastic ball he throws like he has to prove his worth here. It’s a simple practice, unnecessary for a silly party game, but there’s this serious set to strong shoulders that you’re curious about.

The same way you want to know about Clarisse’s relationship, you want to know what makes Luke Castellan, whoever he is, tick. 

“Are you trying to get alcohol poisoning, Rodriguez?” 

“I’m not playing you, Luke,” Chris says and you watch closely as the other boy tilts his head slightly to the left. “I just had to go and get the current undefeated champion on campus.”

There’s this moment that happens every time you play - those awkward seconds where everyone looks completely past you to anyone else, anyone more noticeable. You count on it, occasionally, so it takes you a moment to process the way Luke’s gaze slides to you, drinks you in before he nods towards the other end of the table. 

Chris mutters a quiet “you got this,” as you brush past him, handing him your drink. You’re not delusional enough to think you can get away with mixing your drinks this early in the game. 

It takes two of Luke’s shots for you to land your first, his last hour of playing an advantage you accounted for. He’s not getting sloppy, not in the slightest, but he’s at the point where he’s a little worse for wear - a tired arm and hazy mind - and you take the chance you have at a false sense of security, taking your losses on the chin before playing the game to win. 

Within seven shots between you, you can see Luke start to get restless. How he reevaluates the table in front of him, his three empty cups to your four. Part of you really wants to knock that hat off his head, as if it’ll give you more of an insight into his mind. Instead, you wait for what you know is coming, a slight miscalculation that has the plastic ball rolling off the table to land at someone’s feet. 

Chris hands you a fresh one and you take in the way Luke swallows, jaw clenching as you line up your next shot. Whether he knows it or not, you’ve just been handed your win.

Clarisse cheers, handing you one of the cups from in front of you as everyone yells. You both chug what’s left of them, the bitter taste of cheap beer drowned out by victory, and as soon as that’s done, she throws herself back into Chris’ arms. Laughing, you turn around to find another drink, only to be met by Luke standing beside you.

“Are you about to be a sore loser?” 

He chuckles and it’s different like this. His eyes are brown, which you didn’t know five minutes ago, and his hair is dark from the little wisps of it you can see peeking out underneath his hat. You consider telling him that the hat makes him look lame, but then he’s leaning down to whisper anyway. “I expect a rematch.” 

It’s quiet and heavy and you wonder if anyone can tell that your blood feels like it’s on fire. It’s nothing, really, and it takes more effort than you want to respond. 

“Then expect to lose.”

The only saving grace to the exchange is that Luke looks a whole lot more affected by it, a blush crawling up his neck as you take the drink nearest to you and leave to find your roommate once more. 

*

Losing never used to get to you. Not like this, at least, where everything sort of feels like a precipice and you’re waiting for the next loss to fall on your shoulders alone. It was meant to be an easy game, a warm-up, for when the season started in earnest and you couldn’t afford to be incohesive. There’s always a learning curve, new starters and new competition, but in no world should it have caused this. 

Silena tells you to let it go, throwing yet another outfit on her bed as she gets ready. When you saw her at lunch, Clarisse told you to just push harder during practice. Sometimes you’re not even sure how you can be friends with both of them, how they can be friends with each other either. Unfortunately, it becomes very clear when Clarisse knocks on the door that night. 

“Why aren’t you ready?” 

“I’m not going anywhere.” 

She tuts at you, digging through the pile of clothing on Silena’s bed before throwing a dress at you. “Get dressed.” 

“You can’t make me,” you protest, the black fabric scrunching in your fist. You’ve borrowed it before, for a party last year you don’t remember very well, and you don’t even want to consider why it’s the one Clarisse selected. You turn to your roommate, looking for backup, only to find her with a pair of your shoes in her hands. “Are you seriously going to make me?” 

In unison, they raise a singular eyebrow each and it’s unsettling enough that you let go of all will to fight them. Today may as well just be full of losses that you can mourn tomorrow.

It’s only when you arrive at the party that you realize you have no idea who’s throwing it. Or who’s going to be there. Distantly, you really hope it’s a stranger Silena met on her way around campus - full of people you’ve ever met and will never see again. You could find someone nice enough to blow off some steam with before going on your merry way. 

When Clarisse yells at her boyfriend, you let out a huff as both he and Luke Castellan turn around. 

Since your first meeting, you’ve learned a few more things about Luke. He’s from Connecticut. He was responsible for half of Drew’s sorority coming down with the flu during freshers week. He’s in pre-med. He’s the reason Professor Chase introduced a ban on energy drinks in his lectures (one hundred students simultaneously opening a can of Redbull each was, apparently, mildly disconcerting). Most importantly, he’s always wearing that stupid cap. 

You try to equate the things you know with the Luke standing in front of you. Some of it makes perfect sense - Professor Chase and Connecticut - and some of it unsettles you, but it’s all true. Freshers and pre-med and track meets. Focusing on the distracted way he taps on his beer bottle instead of Clarisse greeting Chris, you kind of want to find out a whole lot more. 

“Fancy a rematch?” 

It’s the first thing he’s said to you all night, twisting the cap off a fresh beer before handing it to you. Then doing the same with his own. You pretend not to notice the movement of it, the few short seconds where you can get away with staring at the shine of silver rings in low light. Taking a sip, you crinkle your nose. 

“I’m not really in the mood,” you mutter and, at the very least, the beer is cold and you chug half of it before you even notice you’ve done it. “Don’t you have someone else you can bother?” 

There’s seconds before you notice it, how his eyes shift from slightly curious to intense. They don’t change much but standing in front of him, you can tell when they go from relaxed to focused. How his back straightens and shoulders roll back just so. You should go and find something stronger to drink. Maybe even see if Lee Fletcher is nearby.

You stay put.

“It’s just a bit of friendly competition,” Luke shrugs, unknowing of how it echoes in your skull. How that’s all today was ever meant to be. Leave it to him to dig the knife in again just as the tightness in your chest was starting to ease. “But I guess you just can’t handle it.” 

“I’d kick your ass in a rematch. I’m doing you a favor.” 

It’s obviously the wrong thing to say, Luke’s eyes brightening as the words push past your lips. The beer you drank way too fast is forming words before you even know what they are.

“You can always choose something else for me to beat you in,” he says, like it’s an offer, something gracious that you should be grateful for. “I’m easy.” 

“How many beers have you had?” 

“Three, I think?” 

Silena would tell you it’s a stupid idea - you have a coaching session at 9am and you haven’t gotten drunk since the party where you met Luke - and she would be right. But you need a win tonight, something guaranteed, and there’s this itch that crawls under your skin the longer you stare at the boy in front of you. 

So you say it anyway. 

“I bet I could outdrink you.” 

“I’d like to see you try.”

He waits as you down two more beers in quick succession, nursing his own as you do. A clink of your bottles against one another, followed by the final sip you each take and it’s finally a competition. 

The night continues, you and Luke almost joined at the hip. It’s to keep track, you tell yourself, talking to a kid that might be in your organic chem class. If the kid looks at you weird for pouring two drinks, only to hand one to Luke in silence, that’s probably just the alcohol misreading things. Only once, when you’re deep in conversation with Lee does Luke pass you a beer, eyebrow raised when Lee gives him a glare. You think that might’ve been drink eight. 

By the time Chris finds you both again, you’ve thrown yourselves onto the couch on the outskirts of the room. Someone’s abandoned coat is thrown over your legs in a mediocre attempt to preserve some dignity in the dress you’re wearing and Luke’s hat has twisted to the side. You’re sure neither of you has drunk a sip in ten minutes.

“You guys doing okay?” 

“We’re drunk,” you say and you can’t tell if it’s a whisper or a shout. “I’m winning.” 

“You’re not winning,” Luke turns his head to glare and you blame the alcohol on the attention you pay to the slope of his nose. “Neither of us have finished these drinks.” 

“Are you going to?” 

He glances down at the cup in his hand, half empty. You can see it, the hesitation, before he places it on the floor by his feet, shaking his head. “Are you?” 

The nice thing to do would be to give up, call it a draw and appreciate that you managed to have fun despite the bad day that had preceded it. However, you like to win. So you grit your teeth before drinking the final three sips, tilting the empty cup towards him so he can see the proof. It takes you a second to remember you have to actually swallow in order to drink, but you do and Luke scrunches his nose. You kind of want to kiss it as a way to smooth the skin back out.

“That’s two wins to me, Castellan.” 

Chris shakes his head at you both. “I’m not calling either of you to make sure you’re alive in the morning.” 

*

It’s an almost unconscious action when you walk into Drew’s sorority house, how you wave Silena off in favor of scanning the crowd, searching for the one reason you agreed to show up in the first place. It takes a moment, pinks and blues and silvers all merging together in your eyeline until you spot him near the staircase, familiar black cap resting on his head. 

You’re already a little buzzed, the thrill of your final project this semester finally being handed in just hours ago, and it’s why you let yourself actually look at Luke for once. 

By this point, you’ve seen him in a polo and a flannel, always with jeans. Laidback. That’s what party Luke was. Tonight, though, it’s like he’s trying harder - baggy pants, like they’re resting a little too low on his hips, a white t-shirt, white trainers that you know are going to stain before the night ends and a slightly oversized leather jacket that doesn’t quite go with the hat you used to identify him. Maybe it’s something he does on purpose, ruining a good thing over comforting familiarity. Maybe you’ll ask him.

Luke looks up then, as if he has a sixth sense, and you kind of don’t know what to do with the slight wave he sends in your direction. You wouldn’t call him a friend, that’s for sure, but you nod in response before weaving through your classmates to the kitchen.

It takes two vodka cranberries for Silena to find you. And it takes four shots with people you’ve never met for Chris to ask if you’ve seen Luke anywhere. You tell him where you last saw him, maybe an hour ago, and he shakes his head like he’s already checked the entire house.

“Do you think you can let him know I’m heading out?” Chris asks, one arm looped around Clarisse’s waist, more for support than anything else. She was already unsteady when you arrived and you know by the flush in her cheeks that it’ll only take a couple more drinks for her to start throwing up. You nod at Chris, cradling your drink to your chest, and he mumbles a thanks while steering his girlfriend towards the door.

With both of them gone, it leaves you with little to do except go hunting for Luke. So that’s what you do, waving Lee off as he attempts to grab your attention from the couch. 

Focusing is a lot harder now, squinting over everyone’s heads in search of that damn hat. Nothing. You know he’s not in the kitchen, that’s definite, and you learn that he’s not in the garden either, Katie from your anatomy class staring at you bewildered as you explain your quest. 

There’s only one place left to check for Luke and you consider if it’ll be a worthwhile risk. It’s entirely possible that he’s already left, whoever he was locked in conversation with earlier with him maybe, and you’re searching an entire sorority house on the off-chance he’s still in the building. 

But you promised Chris. More than that, you refuse to let Luke Castellan beat you.

So you commit to the staircase, pushing past the line for the restroom upstairs. It’s quieter up here, not by much, but you can hear yourself think clearer. There’s three doors on your left, all closed, and you drain the remnants of your drink so it warms your blood and erases the small part of your brain still protesting. 

There’s two yells when you knock on the first door, both hurried and pitching higher as the words fade so you move on quickly. No one answers to the second door, so you crack it open enough to see inside. It’s dark and neat and completely untouched by whatever is happening below, so you let it click shut again. 

Luke is in the third room, you learn, pressing it open when there’s no response to your knock. The room itself is still orderly, but you find the boy you’ve been searching for sitting on the floor at the base of the bed, hat turned to the side and the sleeves of his jacket bunching carelessly where they’ve been pushed higher on his forearms. 

“Chris wanted me to tell you he took Clarisse home,” you blurt when it feels like you need to say something. “He couldn’t find you so…”

Luke waits. When it becomes clear that’s all you’re here for, he says, “Well, thanks for letting me know.” 

You’ve done your job. You can go back and enjoy the party downstairs, maybe make use of the empty room next door instead of remaining awkwardly in the doorway. 

You think about how Chris mentioned that Luke can recite pi to seventeen places while drunk. How you’re still beating him by two points. How there’s an ashtray on the floor beside Luke’s knee and it’s sort of considerate of him to use one when no one else would.

“Mind if I join you?” 

Being in an empty bedroom with a guy at a party isn’t unusual. You’ve had your fair share of them, rushed and quiet and mostly on a bed. Sitting on the floor with Luke is different, you find, a gravity to it than you can’t quite wrap your head around after so many drinks. It’s slow and languid and you don’t really say much of anything as your knee bumps against his thigh in an effort to get comfortable in the space.

No one told you Luke smokes. 

You tell him as much.

“It’s a bad habit,” he shakes his head, twisting a cigarette between his fingers and you both act like you’re not paying rapt attention to it. “I try to avoid making it one.” 

“I used to. Back in high school. Gave it up when I got accepted here.” 

He turns to face you then, head tilted so the visor of his slanted hat brushes his shoulder. “I would never have guessed you were a smoker.” 

It’s not said with judgment, just as an observation from the limited interactions you’ve had since the semester began. The focus in Luke’s gaze crawls up your spine and mingles with the alcohol you’ve yet to flush from your system. 

“You ever blown a smoke ring?” 

If you’re not challenging him, you don’t quite know what to make of Luke. It’s the thing you know most about him, the way his face shifts from victory into loss. The way it matches yours, stretches from his eyes to his jaw and into clenched hands. If you’re not challenging him, you can’t read him - you want to be able to read him in the low light of right now. 

“I bet I’m better at it than you,” you say after he answers. A short laugh escapes him, almost a huff, and it raises the skin on your arms when it meets the top of your ear. “Wanna see?” 

“I’ve only got one.” He waves the cigarette he’s been holding in front of your eyes. 

“We can share.” 

It’s a bad, terrible, absolutely stupid idea. 

“You’re on, Castellan.” 

As he lights the end of it, you wonder if he knows what the brief flame does for his cheekbones, for his jawline. Paints them in small, defined shadows that you might still see if you close your eyes. You almost want to mention it to him. You settle for watching his lips settle around it, the sinking of his cheeks on the inhale and the noise as he exhales. There’s an almost complete ring of smoke in the air.

Luke hands you the cigarette and you repeat his motions, a little quicker. A little smoother. The ring that leaves your lips is full, but less circular. 

Both of you pretend not to notice the other one staring.

You agree to best of three. You agree and you win by the tiniest margin and you hand Luke the little that remains as a consolation prize. He indulges in the last few drags and you watch him do it, looking nothing like the pre-med student you know he is. You think he could be dangerous like this, based on the way your stomach twists as he puts the cigarette out, how his head tilts back and the final wisps of smoke escape his mouth.

You aren’t as drunk anymore. 

You really wish you were.

It takes Luke a second to notice that you’ve moved at all, eyes still closed but he does, and the run of his gaze across your face is enough for you to seize the last of the alcohol in your bloodstream, pushing forward so you’re actually face to face with him, knees digging into the rough carpet beneath you. 

“Can I help you?” It’s low and a little ragged and this is the first time you’ve really noticed the thin, pale scar that stretches down the skin of his right cheek. It’s actually a little insane how pretty he is up close. 

“I think I want a little more than the glory of winning this time,” and half of your whisper is lost to Luke Castellan’s lips but it’s not that important anyway.

What is important is the warmth of his hand through your shirt, pressed into the skin that exposes itself as you shift even closer. It’s the slightly rough texture of his jaw underneath your palm, the way his breath hitches in tandem with yours and you both push through it anyway. It’s the unexpected catch of your finger on his cap and the way you give up on it entirely, finally snatching it off his head so it lands somewhere nearby. 

You’re not sure what you expected Luke’s hair to look like. Horrible, probably, with odd patches that lie weirdly flat and should be covered from view. It’s not this, wild dark curls that deserve to be seen. 

“You have curly hair?” You say it before you can think not to, so caught up in the discovery you’ve just made, and Luke squints at you, unsure. “I can’t believe you have curly hair.” 

He’s preparing a smart-ass comment, you know it by the way his teeth dig into his bottom lip, and that’s really just not going to work this time - not when he’s been lying for months behind a hat. So you do what any sane person would, twist your fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck and trail your lips across his jaw like you’ll die if you don’t.

His hand hooks underneath your thigh and, when you bracket his waist between your legs, cool leather brushing against your knees, you think this might be the best victory you’ve experienced yet.

*

Silena knows something is up when you refuse to speak to her about the party. There’s few secrets you’ve kept from each other since meeting, and even less since Clarisse got involved. It’s pointless to try, mostly, since they all spill out of you when the lights go out and you’re left with each other's company. You almost forgot how annoying she could be when she’s pushing for information.

“Don’t think I’m going to tell you either,” you say when Clarisse joins you in the library a week after the party. “I am a fortress of secrets.” 

“I know you hooked up with Luke.” 

“Seriously?” 

She rolls her eyes, passing you the book you’d asked her for during practice last night. “Calm down. Chris told me. I’m down ten bucks now.” 

“You bet on it?”

“Of course we did, it’s our brand.” 

“I’m not telling Silena,” you whisper again, frowning at your notes. You wonder if Clarisse is aware you haven’t actually spoken to Luke since that night. “She’ll make it a big deal for nothing.” 

“I won’t tell but you should probably figure out what happens next. There’s a party at ksig tomorrow night before everyone goes home for the holidays.” You tap your pen against the textbook. Clarisse pushes a slip of paper towards you. Someone’s phone buzzes to your left. “Think about it.”

When she’s long gone, you grab the paper she left from the table. It’s wrinkled and you smooth it as best you can beneath your fingertips. Blue ink, messily scrawled, and you commit it to memory. Closing your textbook, you leave it pressed between chapters seven and eight. 

The party is loud, louder than you’re prepared for after flaking out on so many since your first one last year. Silena brushes past you once you arrive, shoving your shoulder just enough that it twinges and you frown. You didn’t speak a word on the way here and the silent treatment is starting to drive a little crazy. 

It feels silly now, in a place so crowded, and you breathe deeply. Someone points you in the direction of the kitchen after multiple attempts at asking and you miss the light chaos of throwing up outside the Stolls’ dorm with your best friend. 

You grab a beer, using the table edge to pop the cap off, and it helps to ease the tightness in your chest at how unfamiliar this all is. You’re not sure you could even find the restroom, let alone a singular person.

Pushing back into the bulk of the party, you vow to leave if you don’t find him before you finish your beer. There’s a project you have to start looking into for next semester that could be a good use of time tonight. 

If anyone tried to convince you that most of campus was here, you’d be willing to believe them. A drink raised in Lee’s direction, a nod to Ethan from last years’ stats class, a half-hearted smile at Rachel, who raises an eyebrow at you like she knows something no one else does. 

And maybe she does, because you turn away from her to find Luke just feet away, gesturing animatedly to the guy next to him. There’s a beer in his hand and a hat on his head and his phone number so deeply etched in your mind since last night that you hardly think about it until you’re standing next to him again, drink placed on a table somewhere along the way.

“Hi,” he smiles and his scar shifts with it. He turns to the guy from before. “We’ll catch up later, man.”

“Have I ever told you that I hate that fucking hat?” 

“I sort of got that when you threw it across the room.” His lips wrap around the rim of his bottle and you think you can be normal about it, go back to the way things were, until he smirks just slightly and you know you can’t. 

“You’re such a sore loser, Castellan,” you mutter as you push yourself up to snatch it from his head. He doesn’t comment, lets your fingers brush through his curls until they’re a complete mess instead of compacted. He glances down at the cap in your hand and mutters, “And what is your genius plan for my hat?”

It’s a really fucking good question. Short of getting it off his head, you didn’t know what you were going to do. It’s one thing to throw it across an empty room in the dark, another thing entirely to abandon it to a frat party. So you choose the next best thing - placing it on your own head and daring him to question it. 

“I guess that can work,” Luke says and it sounds like a promise soaked in laughter. 

Neither of you find it as funny when he has to tip the visor upwards to kiss you.

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson and the olympians #luke castellan x you #🖊️ abi writes…

[muchosbesitos]

treat her better

pairing: miguel o’hara x fem reader

warnings: unprotected p in v (be smart 🤨), semi public sex, oral (f and m receiving), choking, smut, and angst

author’s note: hope you all enjoy <3 other woman pt 2 should be out by tmr or the day after 🫡

word count: 4.1k

Your relationship with Miguel was nothing short of difficult when it started, given that he was so detached from the Spider Society after the loss of his daughter. He was the definition of "all work and no play", coming to his office earlier than everybody else and being the last to leave and always rejecting to go out with the group out for drinks. Apart from distancing himself socially, he always found a way to distance himself from you specially at work, pairing you with someone else for missions. You'd given up on trying to form a friendship with Miguel after constant ignoring from him, seeing it as a pointless task.

One night, however, you were surprised to see him actually show up for drinks with you, Peter, and Jess. you figured that Peter probably had pestered him until he finally snapped and agreed, considering he didn't look all too pleased to be spending some time away from HQ. "Miguel, my man! Come, we'll get you set up with some beer," Peter greeted him, waving him to the table as some people around you all turned to look at the screaming man. Miguel shuffled uncomfortably to the table, the realization that the only seat available was between you and Jess hitting you hard. The scent of his cologne overpowered your nostrils, a little part of you surprised that he'd bothered to put this much effort into coming out tonight.

"Girl, you should find someone to spend time with tonight. I mean, when's the last time you got laid?" Jess asked you as she took a sip of her water, the topic of your dating life coming up sooner than you expected. "And you're sure that sleeping with some random man you met a bar is the best way to go?" miguel asked as he drank his beer, his voice more gruff than usual. "Would be better than the stick you have up your ass," you muttered, trying to ignore the way Miguel turned to look at you. You weren't one to shoot back at Miguel’s retorts but you were growing tired by the way he seemed to judge you for everything. From the way that you handled your missions now to where you met men. Luckily for you, Peter came back from the bathroom and started talking about what Mayday had accomplished today.

After a while of talking, you and Miguel were left alone since Jess was taking care of a crying Peter outside. As the two of you sat in silence, you couldn't help but steal a couple glances at Miguel, noticing how handsome he looked in the black button down he had on. "You should take a picture, it'll last longer," he spoke up after a while, his eyes boring into you as he did. You rolled your eyes at his retort, being reminded of the reason why'd you never be stupid enough to go after him. "God, you're such an asshole," you responded and he couldn't help but let out a small chuckle at how uncreative you'd been with the insult.

"Tell me, do you still think i'm asshole?" He purred in your ear after he locked the bathroom door. Even with his cock inside of you, he still found a way to get under your skin. You pushed your hips against his, eager to find some type of friction but your movements were quickly stopped when Miguel placed his hands on your hips. "So impatient," he whispered, his breath causing shivers all over your arms. You knew what he wanted you to do, he wanted you to put your pride aside and beg for him but you didn't want to relent. "This would be much easier if you just did what I told you," he told you, a small chuckle escaping from his lips when he saw your defenses start to weaken. He rolled his hips slowly, not enough to please you but just enough to have you wanting more. "Fine. Please just fuck me," you muttered through gritted teeth, already hating yourself for complying.

"See, now we're making progress. Unfortunately, that's not good enough. Beg like you mean it, chiquita," he responded, a small smirk tugging on his lips. You looked up at the mirror, wanting to punch his perfect face but you decided to comply once more. "Miguel, please. I need it," you whined, letting out a soft moan as he thrust his hips once more. "That wasn't so hard, was it?" He teased once more before he set a consistent pace. You hated yourself for submitting to him, in a bar bathroom to top it off, but the way he fucked you made you push those thoughts aside. His balls slapped against your thighs as your back arched while you held against the sink, your fingers rubbing your clit eagerly.

"Hey, are you in here?" Jess called out, knocking on the door and your eyes widened. You wanted to speak up and tell her yes, but you were more worried about letting out a loose moan. "You're gonna have to answer her," Miguel whispered tauntingly as he slowed down his pace. "Y-Yeah! I'm here," you called out to Jess, trying to keep your voice as even as possible. "I'm gonna go home, do you need a ride?" Jess asked, being the protective friend as always and you almost felt guilty for being in this circumstance. "No, I'll t-text you when i get home," you assured her, her footsteps retreating after.

Miguel’s hand went up to your throat, forcing you to look up at yourself in the mirror while he fucked you. Your lipgloss was all tainted from the angry makeout session you had with Miguel earlier and your mascara was rolling down your cheeks. "So pretty taking my cock," he whispered in your ear, his thrusts unrelenting as your walls squeezed around him. He squeezed at your throat gently, your cunt gushing all around his cock and he couldn't help but let out a small chuckle. "Should've known mi chiquita's into choking," he teased you, his other hand gripping your hips tightly. You let out a loud moan when his cock brushed up against your g-spot only for Miguel to shush you. "Wouldn't want anyone to hear you, hm? Now go ahead and rub your clit for me," he told you, the hand around your throat tightening up slightly.

Your orgasm approached you quickly, your release coating Miguel’s cock as he fucked you through it. He let out a small hiss as your walls clamped around his cock once more, his cum painting your walls white. He pulled out his cock a couple seconds later, grabbing a napkin to clean himself up without giving you a second glance. You were unsure of why you expected Miguel to act differently after you were done, but you couldn't help but feel upset at how quick he had left. You fixed up your lips and wiped away at the mascara dripping from your cheeks, trying to hide your disappointment as you walked out the bar.

Miguel, to no one's surprise, went back to ignoring you during work. You wished that it didn't bother you as much as it did, but a part of you still felt some type of longing towards him. You came back from your mission, staggering through the Society hallways as you headed toward the infirmary. The one time that miguel had spoken to you recently was to tell you to take someone else on the mission, but you decided to defy his orders. You removed the drenched cloth that you'd pressed against the gash as you leaned against the counter, throwing it in the sink. "I told you to take somebody, damn it!" You heard his voice before he came in, his nostrils flaring once he did. "It wasn't that bad, it's just a cut," you tried to downplay the situation despite the stinging pain you felt every time you moved.

You had finished up with cleaning up the gash to notice that Miguel was still standing there, his face contorted in a deep frown. "I didn't mean to snap at you. It's just I can't stand to lose you," he told you, your eyes widening as you looked up to make sure you'd heard him right. "I mean the society can't stand to lose you, as a collective," he clarified, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. You pursed your lips and nodded, not wanting to make things more awkward than they already were. You were about to leave when Miguel grabbed your arm, stopping you from grabbing the door knob.

"I know I've been acting like even more of an asshole after the bar, and I'm sorry. You don't deserve that. Can I take you out to make up for it?" He asked you, your mouth dropping a bit in surprise. "Like to hook up?" You asked him, unsure of what to make of the situation. "No, like a date. I've been meaning to ask you on one but i've chickened out. You obviously don't have to," he responded, completely taking you by surprise. Even though you had multiple questions running through your mind, the main one being 'why?', you decided to agree on going out with him.

Miguel took you to a restaurant he'd discovered in Queens one day, the atmosphere surprisingly pleasant for what part of town you were in. As the two of you shared a meal, you couldn't help but feel Miguel’s gaze on you once more. "Is there something on my face?" You asked him, a little embarrassed but he let out a small chuckle. "No. I just haven't taken the time to really look at your eyes. They're really beautiful under this lighting," he responds, taking a sip from his Coke. "You should cut them up and put them in a jar. Look at them everyday," you responded, using the same strategy he had at the bar. "I would but they look so much prettier when they're attached to your face," he responded, clearly amused by your statement.

The rest of the night was full of playful banter and teasing between the two of you, never a dull moment. Despite all the ways that miguel had found to piss you off and the constant avoiding he'd done, you found yourself wanting to know more and more about him as he shared. He offered you his coat once you two had left the restaurant, giving you a small kiss on the cheek before you two started the walk back home. "I really liked hanging out with you, chiquita. Would you like to go on another date?" He asked you once he escorted you to your room at the society, a hopeful smile on his face. "I'd love to," you responded, grabbing his shoulder and stood up on your tippy toes to kiss his cheek.

After that, you and Miguel found time to go on more dates and you couldn't help but fall in love with him a bit more with every bit that he shared. He was very easy to talk to when he wasn't agitated or annoyed, and he seemed to remember all the small details that you shared with him. He wasn't one for big romantic gestures, but he conveyed his emotions with every date that he took you on, treating you like you were the only person worth spending time with. Even members at the society had started to comment on how happy the two of you seemed together, Peter claiming that he knew this was bound to happen.

The first time that you and Miguel had sex as a couple was a complete 180 from the dusty, sticky bar bathroom. He'd decorated the room with some battery-powered candles and put some flowers on the nightstand to provide the perfect atmosphere. He laid you down on the bed when you came into the room, taking it slow as he kissed you. His hand up to your cheek, gently stroking it as his mouth completely invaded yours, taking as much as he could. His tongue and yours moved in perfect synchrony, soft moans escaping from your lips as he did. His lips moved down to your neck, leaving a couple open-mouthed kisses before biting down, wanting to mark you as much as possible. He was careful not to inject you with his venom as his fangs grazed through your skin, his tongue soothing the sting that his teeth had left.

He took his time undressing you, letting out a whistle as he saw the red lingerie you had put on just for him. "You look so pretty like this," he murmured against your skin, his hands moving down to your breasts. His hands lightly kneaded your tits through the bra, sometimes squeezing and tugging at them just so he'd feel them pebble up through your bra. He took it off after teasing your tits for a while, his mouth instantly attaching itself to the right one as he began his attack. His tongue ran over the pebbled nub while his hand massaged the other one, letting out a small chuckle at how you were squeezing your thighs already. Your hands instantly flew to his hair, tugging lightly as he bit down on the soft flesh, giving you a couple matching hickeys.

His fingertips hooked on your waistband before he slowly started to slip your panties off, putting them in his pocket for later use. He pressed small kisses on your thighs, spreading them wider as he got closer to your cunt. He bit down on the inside of your thigh, your hand instantly reaching down to grip his hair. "Prettiest pussy I've ever seen," he whispered before he started to slurp on the juices clinging to your folds. You let out a moan as his tongue sucked and slurped at your pussy, Miguel was eating you out like a man starved. You started grinding your hips against his face in hopes to get more friction but he pushed your legs down, keeping an iron grip on your thighs. "Be patient, corazón."

Miguel let out a small groan as your pussy clamped around his finger, barely open enough to take just one. He slowly started pumping it in and out of you, your soft whimpers filling his ears as he did. His mouth went over to your clit, giving it a couple kitten licks before flicking the neglected nub. Once he came to the realization that your pussy had opened up a bit more, he pushed a second finger in and curled them upwards to hit your g-spot with every pump he did. "Mig! Mig!" You moaned out, unable to say anything else as his fingers continued to thrust inside of you. "I know, chiquita. You're taking me so well," he cooed, the vibrations of his voice against your clit sending shivers down your spine. Your toes curled as you felt the coil inside of you tightening up, almost at at the point of snapping completely.

You came all around his fingers, your back hitting the bed once you did. He took his fingers out of your cunt and looked directly at you as he sucked off your juices. You took a couple seconds to come down from the euphoria that you'd felt before getting down on your knees in front of Miguel. He let out a small chuckle at your eager display, his hand coming to your cheek as he stroked it gently. "Qué bonita," he remarked, his cock twitching a bit in his boxers as he saw your doe eyes looking directly at him. (how pretty) You took your time taking off his boxers as he'd done with you, letting out a soft gasp when his cock hit his stomach.

Your tongue slowly swirled around the red tip, your fingers working the precum that had leaked out all throughout the shaft. Miguel kept his hand on your cheek as you started to suck him off, letting out a small hiss as you ran your tongue down the underside of his cock. You tried to fit him in all in your mouth, but you ended up with tears in your eyes as you gagged on it. "Always so greedy," Miguel commented, his hand on the back of your head as he eased you into it. You settled on taking what you could in your mouth for now and wrapping your hand around the base, both of them working in tandem to give Miguel the pleasure that he deserved.

You took his balls in your mouth, struggling to fit them both in your mouth as your hand stroked his cock, tightening up ever so slightly from time to time. Miguel let out soft moans as you did, his grip on the back of your head tightening up just the slightest bit. You flattened your tongue when he asked you to, your cheeks instinctively hollowing as he started to thrust his cock in your expecting mouth. "You were made for taking this cock, chiquita," he moaned as he started to speed up his thrusts, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. You kept your eyes on him as he used your mouth like his own personal fleshlight, the sight just being enough to make him cum.

The cum dribbled down your chin as you struggled to contain it all in your mouth, only swallowing once Miguel allowed you to. He helped you get up from the floor, his hands on your hips as he kissed you, overwhelmed at the combined taste of you and him. "Get on your hands and knees," he told you, his cock already starting to get hard again for round two. You did as he told you, shaking your ass a bit as you waited for him to get on the bed. "Looks like iI'll have to fuck the impatience out of you," he told you before he slowly started to push his cock inside your pussy.

Your hands gripped the sheets as he started to thrust in and out of you slowly, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix every time. Miguel grabbed your hands, causing you to fall down on your stomach, and held them against your back as his heavy balls slapped against your pussy with every thrust. He couldn't help but let out a small laugh as he saw you wiggle underneath, your face contorted into one of pleasure. "Feels good, nena? Yeah?" He cooed, knowing that you couldn't let out anything but moans of his name at the moment.

You let out a louder moan when you felt one of the ridges of his cock brush up against your g-spot perfectly, your pussy clamping and gushing all over his cock. "Right there, Miguel!" You mewled as you cried onto the pillow, unable to do anything but take it. He sped up with his thrusts, fucking you like a rabbit in heat as he made it a goal to keep it at that angle. His other hand went down to your clit, rubbing small precise circles on it as your pussy clamped around him like a vice. You felt your orgasm approaching you quickly, your vision slowly starting to black out as you squeezed around him tightly.

Miguel came a couple seconds after you did, the part of him that wanted to see you swollen with his children and your tits full of milk fucking the cum back into you. He pulled out slowly, both of you letting out a small hiss as he did. He got both of you dressed and cleaned up before he laid in bed with you, holding you close to his chest as he started to draw small figures on your back with the tip of his talons. You felt a small shiver run down your back as he did but you felt assured that he wouldn't put enough pressure to actually cut you with them. You drifted off to sleep as soon as you closed your eyes, Miguel’s body heat providing you with warmth that no heated blanket could ever compare to.

Eventually after that night, your relationship with Miguel started deteriorating slowly. It started off slowly, with him not giving you small gifts that reminded you of him anymore to just flat out cancelling dates with you. You really tried to be understanding, knowing that he has a duty to the Spider Society and the multiverse, but you craved the warmth of just having your boyfriend around. It felt like he didn't need to put any effort now that he'd gotten to be with you, almost like he was reassured by the fact that you wouldn't leave him. The change in your mood was noticed by most of the members at the Society, most of them making up theories as to why you looked so upset all the time.

"Hey girl, what's going on?" Jessica approached you, sitting across the table as you ate your empanada. "Nothing's going on. How's it going with the baby?" You tried to deflect away from her question but the look on her face was telling you that she wouldn't allow it. The two of you stayed silent for a couple seconds, just looking at each other until one broke first. "It just feels like Miguel stopped putting in the effort into our relationship, like it didn't matter once we had sex. And I keep making up excuses for every time that he ends up not showing up to our dates but I don't know how much longer I can keep doing this," you confided in her, her eyes softening up as you finished speaking. This was why you didn't want to share your problems, you didn't want to get that look of pity.

"Look, Miguel may be my friend and all but I've gotta tell you, he's a serious workaholic with no idea how to prioritize what's important to him. If this continues, you'll just end up making more and more excuses for him and you'll end up unhappy. Just wait out to see what happens for a little bit longer before you make any rash decisions though," she offered a bit of advice, rubbing your shoulder as she left. You took her words into consideration, knowing that she had a point but you couldn't help feeling like you were betraying Miguel by ending things.

As you waited in the couch of your apartment, you couldn't help but feel a sense of disappointment when Miguel had failed to show up once more. You were starting to fall asleep when the bright flashing lights from the portal woke you, Miguel’s tall frame looming over you. "Sorry I couldn't make it. I got busy with taking care of an anomaly," he told you and you didn't have in you to argue anymore, so you simply nodded. "It's okay, Miguel," you told him despite the pain you felt in your chest as you looked at him. "I’ll make up to you, I promise," he told you, dipping his head down to kiss your forehead before walking off to the bedroom.

You called off the following days from work, wanting to clear your mind far from Miguel as you considered if this was truly what you wanted from a relationship. While the idea of leaving Miguel behind you was painful, you couldn't help but wonder if you were only sticking around for the memories. If it was because of wishful thinking that he'd come around to being the sweet, loving boyfriend he'd once been to you. You decided to call Miguel over that night to see if you could try to talk things out with him, how your relationship could be better.

"Look, just because you took time off work doesn't mean that everyone has the damn luxury to skip out whenever they want. Now, what did you call me over about?" Miguel asked you once he arrived at your apartment, his attention still on that stupid gizmo. You quickly came to the realization as you really took the time to look at him for the first time in a while that this relationship would never be a priority to him and that you'd been stupid enough to hope that he would change. "Well? I was in the middle of a briefing," he told you, tapping his foot on the floor expectedly as he folded his arms. You kept your voice even as you spoke the next sentence, not wanting to end on a bad note with him by yelling.

"I want to break up with you, Miguel."

#muchosbesitos #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara angst #smut #miguel spider man 2099 #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara fic #miguel ohara #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel ohara fic #miguel ohara angst #miguel ohara smut #miguel ohara imagine #miguel o’hara imagine #spiderman 2099 smut #spiderman 2099 #atsv miguel #miguel atsv #miguel spiderverse #miguel o’hara spiderverse #miguel spiderman #miguel across the spiderverse #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel x y/n #miguel x you #spiderman atsv #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x you

[hairyjocktf]

The Bear Brew

Jake was the star player of his university’s hockey team, and with two successful championships under his belt he was captain for this next season. He’d practically been raised for this position. His parents had put him in hockey lessons as soon as he could stand up, and every moment through his childhood and teenage years had been dedicated to practice. He was the star player at his high school and given a scholarship to play on the university team. He’d been told not to let all that go to his head but he knew he was the best player on the team. Every match there would be throngs of fans in the stands chanting his name after every goal, wearing shirts with his face on them, and begging for pics with him after. His life couldn’t get any better.

His teammates, however, were over it. They’d made him captain just to shut him up after he’d been talking their ears off for the past three years. It helped that issue but only inflated his ego even more. Jake had somehow gotten even more obnoxious this season, becoming combative during practice and not taking any criticism about his play. The guys were sick of it, and while Jake was off stroking his ego by chatting with his fans, they hatched up a plan to get back at him. They’d found this beer called ‘Bear Brew’ that promised to put some pounds on anyone that drank a can. They knew Jake would never turn down grabbing a drink to celebrate a victory, thinking himself the one responsible. They weren’t sure exactly how effective it’d be or how long it’d take but they just hoped it would take Jake down a peg.

Two days later, after another decisive victory, it was time. Another player named Eric interrupted Jake’s victory lap.

“Hey bro, wanna grab a beer with us and celebrate?” He asked.

“Finally ready to celebrate my accomplishments, huh?” Jake retorted, “Sure dude, I’m down for a couple rounds, you’re buying though.”

“Deal,” Eric said through gritted teeth. He knew it would be worth it to see this through. They both returned to the rest of the team.

“I heard you chumps are buying me a beer tonight,” Jake laughed as the others wore forced grins. “Let’s hit the bar bros, I’m thirsty.”

On their way to the nearest sports bar, one of the players slipped Eric the Bear Brew so he could give it to Jake. He hoped Jake wouldn’y pay too much attention to the label or read the fine print, but Jake already wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed so it’d probably be fine. They entered a local sports bar that had a decent crowd.

“Alright Eric, first rounds on you bro!” Jake announced as he slumped back into a booth along the wall. Eric glared as he made his way to the counter, the rest of the players trying to seem normal and hide their excitement. He brought back a whole armful of cans, passing out beers to the team, making sure to hand Jake the Bear Brew. “Alright boys!” Jake announced to the group, “To victory and my next championship title, you better back me up!” He took a huge sip of the beer. “Damn this shit tastes kinda weird, the fuck did you get me Eric?” He laughed before taking another sip.

Eric chuckled nervously, “Just thought I’d get you somethin’ premium bro.”

“Damn straight you did, I like that kinda talk,” Jake responded, luckily not putting any more thought into the matter. He kept on sipping at the beer, making obnoxious jokes and trying to hit on the waitresses walking around. He felt more buzzed than usual from one beer, and noticed an odd feeling in his stomach. He ignored that for the moment, yelling at the team, “Another round bros! Gotta treat me right tonight.”

Luckily, the team had planned for this and brought extra beers for Jake in case he asked for more. Another player went up and ordered beers for the team, brought them back and handed Jake the Bear Brew again. Jake started chugging the second beer, and he was really starting to feel odd. He was almost feeling drunk from just two beers, and his stomach was queasy in a way he’d never felt before. He took a couple minutes to just lay back against the seat and close his eyes to give it time to settle. But settle it did not, and the feeling eventually became uncomfortable to the point he couldn’t ignore it. He put his hands on his stomach to try and comfort it, but immediately he felt something very, very wrong.

Jake opened his eyes and looked down at his stomach. He nearly gagged at what he saw. Instead of his chiseled abs he now had a pudgy stomach, and it only seemed to be getting bigger. His defined muscles were disappearing behind a thick layer of chub. He was speechless, watching his defined pecs inflating with fat. It looked like he’d been binging beers for years! His perfect workout routine was vanishing before his eyes as his entire body gained 5, 10, 20 pounds. A round belly now stretched his shirt to its limit, with sagging tits to match. It looked as if he’d been dirty bulking for years on end, and Jake was mortified. He glanced around at his teammates hoping no one had noticed his inflating body, feeling his face as a double chin began to form under his formerly tight jawline. He was panicking, trying to keep cool and maintain his cocky bravado while hiding his growing gut.

He could feel every part of his body growing plump and soft, threatening to burst out of his tight clothing. His feet were pushing against his shoes, and even his hands were growing larger. Jake felt sick to his stomach, and without attracting attention he got up and made his way to the dingy restroom in the back of the bar. Out of breath, he put his hands on the counter and stared at his bloated reflection in the mirror. He could barely recognize himself, having put on years worth of weight in the last few minutes. As he watched himself, he noticed some dark spots appearing on his face. Upon leaning towards the mirror, he realized with horror that thick, brown hairs were starting to poke out of his face. They popped up around the sagging edge of his jaw, and began spreading across his puffy cheeks. His upper lip was quickly buried beneath a thick, unkempt mustache as the hairs took over. They crawled down his fat-laden neck as well, reaching down towards his collarbone. His mouth dropped open as his face was in an instant coated in thick wiry hairs. There was no way he could go back out to his team now, what would they say? He barely looked like his old self anymore. 

Jake reached up to feel his newly grown beard, the coarse hairs scratching against his fingers. He tried to come up with a plan, but the several beers had dulled his mind down. Those thoughts were cut short as a sudden itch arose on his chest. Jake started to scratch at it, clawing at his chest before he felt something that filled him with horror. He felt stubble. He tore off his shirt and looked down to see more hairs pushing out of his soft chest, starting between his former pecs and blossoming outward. They grew dense and thick, giving his chest a respectable coating as it stretched out, encircling his nipples. The hairs climbed up his collarbone, connecting with the beard hairs that had claimed his neck already. A line of hairs shot down from his chest to his navel, spreading a new field of hairs on his stomach. His torso itched up a storm as a thick pelt was growing in, but Jake felt a mixture of horror and pleasure as the sensation felt unnaturally good. He groaned watching the hairs grow longer on his chest, curling and tangling with the others.

As he reached up to feel the growing hairs, Jake saw a flash of dark under his arm, somewhere he had kept shaved before. He lifted his arm up and saw thick brown hairs worming their way out from the previously smooth skin. At first it was just a few but as he watched the tuft grew thicker and bushier as the hairs multiplied. The hairs even spread out to connect with the rug on his chest, completely visible even with his arms at his sides. A few seconds later the smell hit him. Those hairy pits reeked! It was eye watering, and he could see the sweat dripping down the wiry hairs as they kept growing longer. The hairs began crawling outside of his pits, wrapping around his shoulders to blanket them in the same thick fur. He looked like he was wearing a hairy shirt, barely able to see the skin under the growing hairs. His new fur continued to spread, as Jake felt the itching engulf his back. He turned in the mirror to glimpse the hairs popping up across his shoulder blades, making their way towards the middle where they met and grew into a thick fur. That fur sprouted down his spine, completing his coat. Above his ass it had grown in particularly thick, suggesting more to come soon. His arms were next, hairs sprouting down his thick biceps, and burying his forearms in a rug of dark hairs. The backs of his large hands were also coated, thick hairs popping up even on his knuckles. 

Despite feeling horrified at what he was becoming, Jake was overwhelmed by immense pleasure from the changes. Every hair that sprouted produced a euphoria like nothing he’d experienced before. He could feel the follicles pushing through the skin as they covered him in luscious brown fur. Something was distracting him from that sensation though, and it was in his crotch. A burning and stretching feeling was occurring down there, and though his heart sank, Jake pulled down his waistband to peek. His previously trimmed bush was pushing out, dark hairs erupting from his groin as they spread like wildfire. The hairs sprouted and grew thicker and curlier as they multiplied, traveling from the base of his cock all the way up and merging into his thick stomach hair. The bush spread outwards onto his thighs, and he felt his balls expanding as they began to hang lower. They too were buried beneath the fur that was taking over his groin, with thick wiry hairs growing all over his enlarging balls. Jake moaned in ecstasy as his pubes kept sprouting, growing longer and bushier. It felt wrong and disgusting but his body was overtaken by hormones and endorphins, the sensation of pleasure was undeniable.

The hairs continued taking over his smooth skin, traveling from his bush down his large thighs, popping up and growing dark and curly. They coated his legs, growing dense enough to darken the shade of his skin as hair sprouted all over his thighs and calves, before reaching his feet. Jake pulled off his shoes that were ripping at the seams, exposing his now size 15 feet. He watched as hairs wormed their way out across the tops of his feet, even sprouting on his toes. His entire body was now coated in thick brown hair, and Jake rubbed his hands through the newly grown fur as he moaned from the sensation.

His moment of pleasure was cut short by someone banging on the bathroom door.

“Hey Jake, you all good in there bro?” It was Eric, eager to see if their plan had worked.

“Uhh,” Jake hesitated, brought back to reality in a flash. “Yea dude, just a little sick to my stomach it’s no big deal, I’ll be out in a sec,” he replied with a shakiness in his voice. He looked at himself in the mirror. What would the rest of the team think? He looked about ten years older and fifty pounds heavier, not to mention the hairy mess he was now. He was unrecognizable as his past self, not to mention that his clothes didn’t even fit anymore. He struggled to put his shirt back on, leaving his hairy belly exposed, before cramming his huge feet back into his shoes. He took a deep breath, and then unlocked the door and walked back out into the bar.

His teammates had gathered around the door, waiting to see what had become of Jake. They gasped in unison as he opened the door, quickly changing to a howling laughter. 

“BROOOO WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU?”

“No way it actually worked! I can’t believe this”

“JAKE YOU’RE SO FAT AND HAIRY”

“GET OWNED DUDE”

“That Bear Brew really did a number on you man!”

Jake was taken aback, his transformation had been potted by his teammates! He was stunned into silence, standing there with his half-fitting shirt on as he was laughed at voraciously. Slowly the laughter cooled, and Eric came up and slapped him on the back.

“See you at practice tomorrow dude,” he said with a chuckle.

The rest of the team left Jake and headed out of the bar. He stood there grappling with the reality of his life now, how was he going to go back to everything like this? In the face of overwhelming stress, he decided to put it out of his mind for just a little while. He walked back to his table, picked up another can of beer, and sat down. His life was a problem for tomorrow.

#male tf #hairy tf #hairy #bear tf #hairy chest #hairy pits #beard #hair growth #my writing

[mvybanks]

Hey I love your work could you make a jj x reader imagine where jj comes back from work stressed out and enters the chateau in a bad mood. Y/n is sick and has been puking up all day, her and jj are alone at the chateau and he snaps at her over something, he slams the bedroom door. Then minutes later he hears her being sick in the bathroom and sees her pale face feeling bad that he was rude to her. He then apologises and cuddles her in bed making sure to help her when she didn’t feel well xxx

the one where jj doesn’t know you’re sick

a/n: hii, thank you! i’m not really fond of jj being mad at reader for no reason so i don’t know if this is good tbh but i hope you like it! (also this is kind of a jj x routledge!reader but it’s not that obvious)

warnings: angst, jj is a jerk

my masterlist

it’s not like you hate your friend kie, but you would’ve really preferred if she had told you she was sick before coming to your place the other day. now here you are, lying limp on your couch, after having puked up the entire morning, with an annoying runny nose.

you’ve been waiting for your boyfriend to come back from work for hours, you just want to lie down with him and being with him, so when you hear the sound of his bike coming from outside, you smile immediately.

“hey, baby. how was work?” you ask as soon as you see jj walking through the door. the thought of having him home with you is enough to make you feel better instantly.

“i don’t feel like talking, y/n.”

you know work has been rough on him lately and you feel so bad about what he has to endure that you don’t even notice the anger in his voice.

“oh. did something happen?”

“god! what’s so hard to understand? i told you i don’t wanna talk!” he snaps, looking at your confused and shocked expression. he’s never talked to you this way.

“jeez, i was just asking,” you raise your hands in defeat, still not really sure of what’s going on and why he’s treating you like this.

“yeah, well— don’t,” he walks to the fridge and continues, “perfect. john b drank all the beers. that’s just perfect.”

his tone is full of venom and annoyance, his whole demeanor has changed since he kissed you goodbye this morning and you’re not really sure you know the guy that just walked into your house. this isn’t the guy you know and love, the guy that treats you as if you were the most precious thing in the world to him.

“you know you could be a little less of a dick,” you can’t stop yourself from saying the words, spatting at the stranger that’s now walking towards your shared room.

“do you ever stop talking?” he yells before slamming the door of your room behind him, leaving you speechless in the living room.

your stomach hurts and you don’t know if the sudden tightness in your throat is caused by your sickness or the interaction you just had with your boyfriend. your eyes sting from the tears that you’re trying to hold in, although you don’t know how long you can keep them at bay.

jj has been your rock and your best friend since you were kids and he’s always treated you with nothing but respect, he has never raised his voice at you and he sure as hell has never made you feel small. except now, and you don’t know what this means, if it’s because he doesn’t think of you the same, if his love for you has suddenly vanished or if he’s not happy anymore, and it hurts.

you don’t even notice that you’ve fallen asleep on the couch, too immersed in your thoughts, until you wake up with an impending urge to puke. you immediately get up and run to the bathroom, spilling all the contents of your stomach inside the toilet.

meanwhile, your boyfriend has been rummaging on what he’s said to you before for hours. he feels so much regret, almost disgusted with himself, that when he walked into the living room before and saw that you were asleep, he wanted to cry at the sight, because he wanted to wrap you in his arms but he knew he didn’t deserve it, striding back into your room.

when he hears the sounds coming from outside the door as you run to the bathroom, he walks out and takes advantage of the situation to talk to you. he knocks on the door a couple of times but no answer comes from the other side.

“angel, listen, i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have treated you-“ he starts, but the sound of you being sick stops him, “what’s going on? are you okay? let me in!”

he begins to panic as he imagines the worst.

“it’s open, you idiot,” you shout although the weakness in your voice is evident.

when he opens the door and finds you on the floor, he comes rushing in and kneels in front of you as worry is written all over his features.

“why were you throwing up? did you eat that weird thing in that jar in the fridge? i swear i’ve told john b to throw it out so many-“

“i’m sick, you big dork.”

his face twists into something softer and you’ve missed that look on him, the one that shows you how much he cares for you.

“oh. why didn’t you tell me?” his voice is small as he curses himself for not noticing earlier.

“because you came in here being a big jerk when i only asked you how work was today. if you hate me so much, why don’t you just fucking break up with me?”

you finally snap at him, the pain that he caused you earlier still fresh in your voice. he almost cries at your words, breaking up with you is the last thing he’d ever do. he loves you so much sometimes it hurts and still he can’t believe that he’s treated you so badly that you think that he doesn’t love you anymore.

“hate you? what? no, angel, absolutely not. i could never hate you, i love you. i’m so so sorry. i really was a jerk-“

“a big jerk,” you correct him and he gives you that crooked smile of his that you adore.

“a big jerk. i’m sorry. my boss has been breathing on my neck for days now and i just get so frustrated, i’m not trying to find an excuse but i want you to know that you had nothing to do with it. i’ll never do that again, i swear.”

he pushes a strand of hair behind your ear and cradles your face in one hand. you close your eyes for a second, enjoying that comforting feeling that you’ve been craving all day from him.

“you’re lucky i’m sick or i would’ve killed you,” you mumble as you reopen your eyes.

“and i would’ve helped you,” he smiles and you chuckle at his words, his heart clenching at the sound he missed so much, “i’m serious, angel. don’t ever let me treat you like that. you deserve so much better.”

you sigh loudly and lean even further into his touch. he regrets what he has done and the thought of you being sick through all of this makes him feel nauseated as well.

“it’s okay, j. i forgive you. i don’t have any fight in me right now. give me a hug, please.”

you don’t have to tell him twice, his arms wrap immediately around your figure. your head rests safely against his chest while his lips press against your forehead.

“c’mere,” he whispers as one arm slips underneath your knees to pick you up and bring you to bed.

he lies with your body on top of his and strokes your back in order to bring you more comfort. you nuzzle your head into his neck and finally let your whole body relax.

“i love you so much, you know that, right? i’ll make it up to you when you feel better,” he says before kissing your head.

“mh? how?”

you raise your head and it takes one look at his face, with that smirk of his playing on his lips, to understand what he means.

“ohhh, baby, you’re not that lucky,” you chuckle before resting your head again.

“hey, a man can dream.”

#jj maybank #obx #outer banks #jj maybank angst #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x oc #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank x routledge!reader

[allocnddits]

Can I request protective Oscar which leads to her thinking he’s super hot like that and then that leads to smut please?

here it is, sorry for the wait babes

it was the little things

the way he never let you walk on the outside of the side walk

the way he would rest his hands on the curve of your back, right above your ass, anytime you were in a room full of people or a crowd you had to walk through

But that night specially it was all too hot. Lando had convinced your boyfriend to go clubbing with him after their podium. In reality all he wanted to do was go back to his hotel and maybe have the laziest, most intimate love making session with you. But you encouraged him to go out, it was his first podium in formula one and you felt full with pride, he had to celebrate it the right way.

So after the race you went back to the hotel and got ready to go out. Oscar looked unbelievably hot, it was the most boring outfit you could think of, for sure, but your boyfriend pulled it off perfectly. The black tshirt so tight on his arm, same with his jeans, they weren’t even supposed to be skinny but his thighs had gotten thicker and looked like they were about to burst out of those pants. The watch around his wrist, the chain you had gifted him at the beginning of the season adorning his neck and his cologne, god, that fucking cologne was intoxicating.

He was thrown on the bed, open like a starfish as he waited for you to get ready. You came out of the bathroom with a more casual than not outfit. Black mini skirt, white top and black boots, the star of the show being a vintage Mclaren jacket that Oscar would probably have to hold all night.

“Ready?” you asked as he sat up on the edge of the bed, groaning. “Come on, baby, it’s your first f1 podium, you can’t just stay in and do nothing.” you explained, combing your nails through his hair, trying to get it to sit right.

“I wasn’t gonna do nothing, i was gonna do you” he hugged your waist, cheek pressed to your stomach.

“You can do me every day, but tonight i already promised Lando we would be there.” your boyfriend dropped his head in defeat, knowing damn well that the next morning his teammate won’t even know if he was there or not.

None of you were very fond of clubbing, not really knowing what to do. You danced for a bit as oscar talked to his coworkers that were there. The way you swayed your hips pulling different pairs of eyes to watch you. It was Lando that noticed and told him that you were causing a scene. He called you over with a motion of his finger, you obeyed blindly, walking over to him.

“Everything alright, baby?” you asked as he hugged you tightly to his side, the hand that held your jacket moving to discreetly cover some of your ass.

“Yep, perfect” he nodded, taking a sip of his beer before starting to talk to his teammate again. you couldn’t help but stare every time he took the glass bottle to his lips, the way they puckered up against the brim and how his arm flexed when he lifted it. “Want some?” he asked when he realized you were staring.

You nodded, holding your hand out for the bottle but it never met you, instead he took it straight to your lips tipping it so the liquid met your tongue. You drank it till he pulled away, trying not to make a mess but some of it dribbled down your chin anyway. He looked down at you swiping his thumb on the spilt alcohol and kissing you. He was putting on a show for everyone to see. Lando downed the drink the had in his hands with a chuckle before excusing himself to get another one. The second his colleague walked behind you he stretched his arm out, pulling him by the arm.

“Don’t you look, either” he threw his hands up in irony and Oscar started basically burning up, his hand lowering so the jacket would cover more of your legs.

“Don’t be mean” you told him as you threw your arms over his shoulder, his rested on your hips, hands holding your jacket and his beer, too busy to roam around your ass.

“I’m not. It’s just that, everyone was staring. I swear i saw a pit guy look you up and down, he must know who you are, right?”

“Oscar, even though this is extremely amusing and hot, you have to let it go, it’s alright.”

“Hot?” he teased

“Well, yeah, being all manly and jealous and possessive. It’s kinda hot.” you explained before starting to kiss on his neck, each mole of his receiving a peck. “Can we go back to the hotel?”

“Yes, please. Just gotta say bye, c’mon” he pulled you through the small crowd till you met Lando and some other coworkers of his. You two said your goodbyes and walked out of the place, waiting for his car. You got in so quickly after he opened the door for you, waiting impatiently to get back to your room.

His hand was on your thigh the entire ride, getting higher and higher, your skirt doing very little to stop it. You couldn’t take your eyes off his hand gripping tight on the steering wheel. His jaw was clenched making it look sharper. The anticipation was killing you but luckily you were finally in front of the hotel. Oscar rushed out of the car to open the door for you and get you out of the car and into the lobby. Because of the late hour the elevator got to you quickly and you stumbled in, his hand on the small of your back, keeping you close.

As soon as the elevator doors closed you pulled him in by the colar of his shirt your arms wrapped around his neck, hands hanging loosely behind him as he kissed you deeply, his tongue slipping into your mouth. He was fighting the urge to not grind his hips against you just yet but it was hard when you started kissing down his neck and running your nails on his scalp.

“Oscar” you called “Oscar, we’re here” you pushed him off of you, taking him by the hand and walking to your room. You reached into his back pocket to grab the keycard and open the door, immediately kicking it shut and making him sit on the couch.

You got on your knees immediately, taking off your shirt and unbuttoning his jeans. You could see his outline in them as he lifted his hips to help you. Your lips connected to his thigh, kissing all the way up to the wet patch on his underwear, his dick growing even harder inside it.

“Don’t fucking tease, get to it” he rushed you, hand running through your hair.

Your fingers made their way to his waistband, pulling it under his dick. You watched as it basically bounced against his stomach before kissing the tip. As you looked up you saw that he was getting impatient so you spit down on the head, watching it drip down the side of his length before spreading it around him with your palm. He was watching you, following your moves closely, anticipating but the moment you took his tip into your mouth he threw his head back, closing his eyes tightly.

Oscar’s hand gripped tighter, the other one collecting the rest of your hair, pulling it into a ponytail. As he recovered himself from the first contact with your mouth he lifted his head up, admiring the way your mouth stretched around him.

“Fuck my mouth, baby, please” you asked with him in your hand, leaving your mouth open for him.

He fixed the hand on your head and pushed you down slightly on his dick till your nose gif the hairs on his groin. His hand held you there for a while before pulling off completely. You were already a mess, lips red and plump covered in saliva, small strands of your hair stuck to your face and you had been sitting on your ankles, grinding against them to get the slightest feeling of relief.

Oscar kicked your knees apart, placing his leg between them, he immediately pressed it up onto you. You let out a groan but it was cut short by the way your boyfriend shoved your mouth down on his cock.

“Fuck, baby, so perfect, your mouth is. Always feels so good” he praised as he aggressively pulled your head up and down his dick.

His thrusts had gotten more aggressive making you gag around him but you were so satisfied. After the little show he putt on earlier all you wanted was to be manhandled and it was exactly what he was giving you. You had started bouncing in his foot shamelessly and he was loving the view, your tits bouncing slightly and tears now falling from the corner of your eyes.

“‘M close, love, gonna cum in your mouth, yeah?”

He pulled you away, making you keep only his tip in your mouth, you sucked the hardest, tongue sliding against his slit repeatedly till he spilt in your mouth. Oscar groaned, throwing his head back as you sucked every last bit of cum out of him before it was all too much and he pulled you off him.

“That’s a way to celebrate a podium” you said before dropping your head to his thigh, completely used up.

#oscar piastri #oscar piastri smut #f1 #a writes #oscar piastri x reader

[gyuvxx]

A Party ꩜⋆.°⭑

Sungchan x Reader

In which YN meets a cute boy at a party…

Genres/warnings: fluff, crack, party fic, mentions of drugs and drinking, suggestive (no smut!), make out session, consent is given!! kinda open ending

The wind blew across her skin as she walked behind her friends. She listened to them talk ahead of her, excitedly chattering about something she couldn’t quite make out. Her outfit was ill fitted for the weather, more skin exposed than covered, that did nothing to keep her warm. They had been walking for about fifteen minutes, with ten more to go. If they didn’t freeze by then.

YN felt herself wobble in her heels, none of her friends ahead of her were waiting up for her. She just continued, not too bothered by silence, enjoying the peace in the atmosphere. She appreciated quiet moments, but couldn’t deny she felt a bit left out. She suddenly felt an arm sling around her shoulder, and turned to find who was next to her.

“Don’t be nervous,” She said playfully. Yunjin was dressed as a cowboy, a bandana tied around her neck, and a brown hat sat on her head. She said she was matching with the hosts of the party, two of her friends from class.

“I’m not nervous,” YN laughed, leaning into Yunjin. “I just don’t really want to go,” she confessed. YN was dressed like cupid, wearing a pair of little wings, and white boots that were too tall for her to walk in comfortably.

Yunjin smiled at the shorter girl. “If an hour passes and you still aren’t feeling it, then we’ll walk to the milkshake place,” She told her, lightly shaking her friend. “But you have to actually try to have fun, have a drink or something,”

YN nodded, but still felt reluctant. She was never the type to party, which was polar opposite to many of her friends, who spent a fair amount of their weekends at house parties thrown by other people at their school. YN didn’t blame them, she could see how they enjoyed the parties, but never really liked them herself. She didn’t like the crowds of strangers, or having to shout over everyone to talk to a friend, and she didn’t want to get drunk in a room full of strangers.

Her friends had convinced her to tag along with them, telling her it would be fun, and they would all stay together. It was halloween, she’d be so lame not to go. She agreed reluctantly, not holding much hope that she’d have a particularly good time. The group was made up of girls they’d met in class, all sweet, friendly girls, but Yunjin was the only one she was really close with.

When they got to the door and the host opened the door, YN could immediately gauge the atmosphere of the house. Loud, and crowded. Wonderful. The host, Shotaro, was in her chemistry class, and seemed to be close with Yunjin. He let them all in with a smile, and when she stepped foot into the building, the smell of weed, alcohol and body odor hit her senses immediately. As her group walked in, they all huddled for a moment, sticking together for the most part, until one by one, they began splitting off.

Yunjin kept her hand on YN’s, not wanting her to get lost in the crowd, leading them into the kitchen to get some drinks. She looked around cautiously before opening the fridge and grabbing two bottles of beer. No one was supposed to get into the fridge, but YN assumed it was okay since Yunjin was close to the host. She grinned as she handed her a bottle, and the two clinked their glasses together.

The two girls drank for a while, moving around from time to time whenever Yunjin felt like it. They laughed while trying to yell over the loud music, and the other people yelling around them, finding it amusing how the other would say ‘what?’ after every five seconds.

YN saw Yunjin look around the room, and wave to some people YN didn’t know. Yunjin turned back to her friend.

“Do you wanna come with?” she yelled, gesturing over to two boys dressed as cowboys.

“I’m okay, go talk to them!” YN yelled back.

“Are you sure?” Yunjin asked, not wanting to leave her friend.

“Yes, now go!” YN yelled with a small laugh, pushing her friend away to go talk with her other friends. Truth be told, she didn’t want Yunjin to leave, but also didn’t want to be a stick in the mud.

After a few minutes of Yunjin being gone, YN got annoyed with the atmosphere once again, moving from her spot to lean against the wall. She sipped her drink, which by that point was getting warm and sticky. She opted to people watch from her spot, waiting for Yunjin to come back.

No one approached her, which was a relief, she didn’t want to deal with drunk college students. She looked around the crowds for Yunjin, but couldn’t find her. The music seemed louder without anything to distract her, the house was hotter, and the smell stronger. It all was beginning to be too much for YN. So when Yunjin pushed her way through the crowds with a grin, YN couldn’t stop the sigh she let out.

“Have fun?” she asked, returning to yelling like before.

“Yeah!” Yunjin shouted back. “They’re in the basement right now, it’s cooler down there!” she yelled, and YN tilted her head.

“Who?” YN asked.

“My friends, duh!” Yunjin locked arms with the shorter girl. “And there’s someone I want you to meet,” she wiggled her eyebrows as she began leading her downstairs. The pair weaved through the crowds, pushing their way past people as Yunjin grinned. They walked downstairs, and YN felt a rush of cool air graze her skin.

“Is that her?” one of the cowboys asked from the couch. YN looked down at the seven pairs of eyes staring up at her, and gave a small wave.

“Yup,” Yunjin dragged her down all the way. “This is YN, everyone say hi,” the boys all greet her at the same time.

“Hi, I’m Shotaro, and I’m also the host tonight,” one of the cowboys stood up to greet her. “The other cowboy is Eunseok, we’re twinning with Yunjin. Freddy kruger is wonbin, Luigi and mario are seunghan and Sohee respectively, men in black wannabe is anton-”

“It was last minute!” the younger boy shouted in protest.

“Okay, whatever. And angel boy-” he looked around before getting cut off by a tall boy approaching with two drinks, one that was somewhat unfamiliar, and one that happened to be her favorite.

“I’m sungchan,” The tall guy said to her, a playful smile spread across his pretty face.

“Nice to meet you,” She replied with a small smile, locking eyes with him before his eyes drifted to examine her further.

Sungchan handed her the bottle of the drink she liked, and she took it without hesitation. She looked around the room, the big couch in the center with a pretty big TV in front of it, and a bar by the stairs. It was a calmer atmosphere, relaxed, just YN’s cup of tea. Shotaro told her she could sit on the couch if she wanted, so she walked over.

“Yunjin said there was someone she wanted me to meet?” YN asked as she sat down. She saw how Eunseok and Shotaro smiled teasingly and Sungchan looked behind him to see Yunjin grinning at him.

“Some friends are playing some games upstairs,” Yunjin grinned. “You can join us if you want,” she offered before walking up, Eunseok and shotaro joining her.

Seunghan and Sohee were upstairs drinking, catching up with their other friends. Anton was talking to a girl he liked upstairs, and Wonbin was playing beer pong. It was just Sungchan and YN in the basement. She didn’t realize until the awkward silence set in, and she looked up to see sungchan standing by the bar, sipping his beer.

The two of them made eye contact, as sungchan was already looking at her. She broke it after a moment, looking down at her lap. Sungchan took the opportunity to walk over, sitting down next to her, a little bit away. He turned to look at her, and she glanced up to meet his gaze. He gave her a soft smile.

“I think I’m the one Yunjin wanted you to meet,” He confessed, and YN tilted her head.

“Why do you think that?” she asked, moving to face him a little bit.

“She overheard me talking to shotaro about how I thought you were pretty,” He shrugged with a smile. “I saw you while you were upstairs, and told them about you. Yunjin went ‘oh I know her, i can go get her!’ and then she dragged you down here,”

YN smiled a little. “So that’s why she seemed so excited,”

“I guess,” sungchan agreed. “You have full right to tell me to fuck off by the way, I will not be offended,”

YN laughed, pushing her hair over her shoulder before looking at him. “I wasn’t really planning on it,” she shrugged. “I think you’re pretty cool, and for whatever it’s worth,” she paused, contemplating her words. “I think you’re cute too,”

The two looked at each other for a moment. YN felt the heat rush to her cheeks, feeling silly for just calling a guy who was two heads taller than her cute. Sungchan just smiles, relaxing into the couch a little bit, a smirk on his face.

“So… would you want to chill with me? I’m great at scaring people off,” Sungchan offered, looking over at her.

“Sure,” YN nodded. “Do you wanna go upstairs? Have some more stuff to do?”

“Sounds good to me,” He stood up, and offered His hand to her, seeming more confident than before. She took his hand, and he pulled her to her feet, interlocking fingers as Sungchan led her upstairs.

The two of them joined their friends upstairs and teamed up for some games. Sungchan taught her how to play beer Pong, standing behind her to help her aim to sink the ball she threw. He cheered her on through the game, and drank whenever she drank. When the two of them won the game, they high fived each other, and neither of them fully realized Sungchan’s fingers intertwined with hers.

Through the next game, Sungchan’s hand rested on her waist, keeping her close when she took her third shot. YN always had one hand interlocked with his as they continued, pressing up against his side as the night continued, feeling gigglier than usual.

They played a few more games, and took a few shots too many, when YN felt that fuzzy feeling she got when she had a little too much to drink. She leaned against sungchan, talking to Yunjin as she felt the alcohol really kick in.

Sungchan stopped drinking a bit before her, only having a light buzz when he realized YN was getting a bit drunker than he was. He kept her close while they were upstairs, trying to keep her out of trouble, and to keep her from getting lost.

Sungchan had suggested they take a break from the crowd when he noticed her steps got wobbly, and started giving her water instead of more alcohol. He saw Yunjin give her a look from across the room, and he knew it was about time for them to start winding down, so neither would be too hungover.

The two of them went back to the basement, sitting on the couch while their friends relaxed around the room. YN leaned against him, as his arm draped over her, fingers rubbing gently against her dress. The two of them talked for a while, getting to know little things about each other. Her cheek was pressed against his chest, almost resting on his lap, as sungchan absentmindedly played with her hair.

“I want another drink,” YN murmured before looking up at sungchan, battering her lashes to really convey the message.

Sungchan smiled at her, and brushed the hair back from her cheek. “You’re drunk, cutie, you shouldn’t drink any more,” his finger grazed her cheek, squeezing her skin lightly.

YN jutted out her bottom lip, looking up at him through sad eyes. When she saw his smirk, and subtle head shake, she returned to leaning against his chest. “You’re no fun,”

Sungchan laughed a bit. “Sorry, baby,” he said softly, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her hair. He rested his arm around her again, holding her close to him as they sat together.

There was a silence between them, comfortable as He played with her hair. Sungchan noticed some of his friends had left, and now the only three left were Yunjin, Eunseok, and Shotaro. The three of them were clearly trying to observe what was going on between Sungchan and YN, and noticed Sungchan looking back at them. They made a few gestures, shotaro mouthed, ‘should we go?’ and all three filed upstairs when sungchan nodded.

It was just them in the room, and sungchan felt his heart beat against his chest. He didn't know what to do in the moment. He didn’t know what would be the next move, or what would be too far. So he decided to just try and take things slow.

“You know,” he spoke up, ears heating up at the confession. “Yunjin told me what beer you liked before you came downstairs,” YN looked up at him a bit. “She also told me you were a lightweight, so I should probably keep an eye on you,”

“I’m not a lightweight,” YN pouted.

“Sure,” Sungchan smiled, looking into her eyes. “But you’re drunk now, so i’ll take care of you,” he had a silly smirk across his lips, hand resting against her waist.

“You don’t have to take care of me, I’m just buzzed” YN muttered, looking down. “I’m a big girl,”

“I know,” he admitted, bringing his hand under her chin. “I just want to,”

The two of them looked at each other for a moment, YN’s eyes were wide, getting lost in his soft gaze. It was only a moment before YN sat up a little bit and leaned forward, gently pressing her lips against his. It was a soft kiss, lasting a fleeting moment before YN pulled away, embarrassed by her sudden movement. She looked at sungchan who had a playful smile before brushing his thumb against her bottom lip as he held her chin.

YN grabbed the collar of his shirt, and pulled him closer, looking into his eyes, all the embarrassment gone. Sungchan’s gaze faltered for a moment.

“Is this okay?” he asked in a hushed tone as YN leaned back on the couch, pulling him to hover over her.

YN nodded. “Yes,” she whispered, feeling one of his hands press against her waist. His lips pressed against the skin of her cheek, breathing heavy.

“Are you sure?” he whispered before pressing a kiss to her jaw. “You’re drunk,”

YN just nodded again, pulling him close and kissing his lips. This time sungchan Let her have her way, still lightly buzzed by his previous drinks. He groaned lightly as he kissed her back, his forearm resting on the couch cushions while his other hand held her waist. YN had a hand in his hair, lightly brushing her nails along his skin.

They were both frenzied, lost in their own passion and lust for each other. Their kiss grew sloppy as YN began unbuttoning Sungchan’s shirt. Everything felt so fast to her, and she was unable to tell if it was because of the alcohol or sungchan, and his intoxicating cologne. Sungchan was about as lost as she was, kissing her neck, leaving light marks across her skin. The two of them were so lost, they didn’t even realize Sohee had walked downstairs.

“Oh shit!” Sohee gasped, pulling Sungchan and YN out of their dazes. He quickly covered his eyes and ran upstairs, hollering, “I saw nothing!”

Sungchan groaned a bit and YN just looked up at him. She met his eyes before she continued unbuttoning his shirt. Sungchan’s eyes widened, and he lightly grabbed one of her wrists, shaking his head.

“What’s wrong?” YN asked, eyes wide, propping herself up on her elbows.

“Nothing,” he said gently. “I just… don’t think we should do this right now,” He told her, pulling her up from her position to sit next to him. “You know, in the basement of a stinky house party,” He heard a soft Giggle from YN. “And you’re drunk, so let’s not do anything we could regret,”

YN reluctantly nodded, smoothing out her dress and looking down at her hands, feeling the embarrassment creep back up on her. Sungchan studied her for a moment, noticing the shift in demeanor, and how she tried to make herself smaller.

“Let me take you home,” Sungchan Offered. YN looked up at him with an eyebrow raised. “I’m bored of the party, and you probably should go get some rest,”

“I didn’t drive,” She admitted.

“I did,” Sungchan reached for her hand, and took it gently.

“We both drank,” She points out.

“I’ll walk,” He told her, looking at her with a serious look. “If you don’t want me to take you home, just tell me,”

“No! It’s not that, sorry…” She sighed, pushing her hair back. “I’d really appreciate it, thank you. It just surprised me a little.”

Sungchan smiled and stood up, buttoning his shirt back up and pushing his hair out of his eyes. He offered her his hand, and pulled her up to stand next to him. The two of them walked up the stairs and through the house, said goodbye to their friends and left.

The walk To YN’s apartment was quiet, neither of them knowing what to say to break the silence between them. YN showed him the way, and sungchan walked along with her, keeping their hands interlocked despite the unspoken words between them. YN felt embarrassed for getting drunk, and being so forward with Sungchan, only to somewhat be rejected, and have him walk her home. Sungchan didn’t mind at all, enjoying the change of pace for the night. It gave him a moment to study her more, to take in her beauty.

When they got to her apartment, YN let go of sungchan’s hand, dropping it to her side, missing the warmth of his palm in hers.

“Are you okay here?” Sungchan asked, studying her expression.

“Yeah,” She said after a moment, a slight sigh in her voice. Sungchan picked up on it.

“Do you want me to walk you up?” He asked. He watched as she processed his question, debating in her mind what she should say in response. He was hoping she’d say-

“Yes, please,” She gave him a shy smile, and Sungchan wrapped his arm around her waist, nodding for her to lead the way.

In the elevator, YN leaned against Sungchan, wishing she had taken the stairs to try and squeeze in more time with the handsome stranger she met that day. The two of them didn’t speak much more, just resting their arms around each other and enjoying the peace. They reached her floor, and Walked towards her flat. When they reached the door, they each said a quiet goodbye before YN slipped inside, and closed the door.

YN regretted it instantly, wishing she would have invited him in for some food, or to just try and get more time with him. Likewise, sungchan was beating himself up mentally for not trying to make another move. They both stood on opposite sides of the door, both ready to make a move to try and get the other to stay, even if just for a moment.

When YN swung her door open, she was met with the sight of a shocked sungchan, who had his fist raised to knock on the door. “You’re-!” they both stuttered out, shocked to see the other had the same idea that they did. The shock wavered and left the two just smiling at each other, both blushing a bit.

“Do you want to-”

“Can I get your number?” Sungchan interrupted her, feeling like if he didn’t ask at that moment, he’d never be brave enough to ask again.

YN smiled and took his phone, entering her contact information, and a little heart next to it. Sungchan grinned and pocketed his phone. “I wanna take you on a real date, not just a sloppy makeout session,”

“I’d really like that,” She grinned at him, unable to hide her happiness at his proposal.

“What were you gonna ask?” Sungchan asked.

“Oh! Well, i was just gonna ask if maybe, you wanted to stay for a little bit… but i know it’s late so,” she told him shyly, not wanting to pressure him.

“Do you want me to?” He asked leaning towards her with a little smile.

YN smiled, grabbing his hand and lightly pulling him inside. “Just for one movie,”

ITS FINALLLLLYYYYYY OUT

I have a lil smth smth planned for a part 2… and 3, 4, 5 😈 so lmk if you want those or just a silly oneshot

taglist: @oftenjisung , @vhuteryh , @skzhoe4life , @cheederzchez , @so-lychee , @leehanascent

#sungchan x reader #riize sungchan #sungchan oneshot #jung sungchan #sungchan fluff #sungchan #riize oneshots #riize x reader #riize fluff #gyuvxx ᯓ★ #my love {sungchan} ☆.ᐟ #⋆｡°✩riize

[bowlofsoob]

YEONJUN AS YOUR COLLEGE RA

yeonjun x gender neutral reader

strangers to friends to lovers, college setting

started out as you and yeonjun only communicating for things via dorm life but after a party breaks the ice you start to catch feelings for him after becoming friends with benefits

notes; idk if it’s different in other countries but RA means resident advisor and basically it’s the person in charge of your dorm floor and in charge of everyone

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

The night was alive and the air was thick with multiple lights and smoke that you and the other students could have been underwater. It seems your roommates had gone all out with the smoke machines placed at the front of the dorm, blanketing it, as if it was a completely different world compared to the other silent dorms on the same floor.

You awkwardly nursed a cup of beer in your hands near the door as you anxiously wait for Yeonjun to arrive. It was stupid, but if you couldn’t have him you’d at least like to befriend him. Or take a body shot off of him. More so the latter.

“Hey,” you hear, a voice so low in your ear you almost jump and drench yourself in cheap beer.

“Hi,” you swallow, turning around and coming face to face with the man of your wet dreams.

You shove your drink into his hand, “Glad you could make it.”

“Wouldn’t miss the first party of the year,” Yeonjun lazily smiles, downing the cup in a second, not even flinching once.

A group of boys followed behind him, immediately running in and jumping to the music as Yeonjun stayed near you.

“Show me to the drinks,” Yeonjun hums, holding up two bottles he’d brought.

As you both walked deeper into the dorm you could hear the roar of the students and music thrumming straight through your body and into your eardrums. Bodies moved around you like sweaty gnats, the dim lights strung up on the walls being the only source of light guiding you through the hall beside Yeonjun, flickering between violets and hues of blue. It fit the theme perfectly for that night.

Once in the kitchen Yeonjun went to work pouring himself a drink.

“You want one of my famous drinks?” Yeonjun asks, rolling up his sleeves as he leans back on the counter.

“Famous?” you smile, “According to whom?”

A cold glass was shoved into your hand, liquid sloshing precariously against the edge. You brought the drink to your lips, the fizzling sensation causing a nostalgic feeling to wash over you. Yeonjun immediately drank one of his own, gulping it down as you cheered him on. He raised his arm above him once he was done.

“Pretty good, right?” he laughs, already working on another drink for you both.

It was at that moment you were ready to strip right then and there. There was something so intimate about you both being the only ones in the kitchen, red lights flickering every other second and illuminating Yeonjun’s sly smirk. His eyes on you.

“I suppose,” you shrug, “Get a couple more in me and we’ll see.”

“I like your vibe, Y/n,” Yeonjun hums, this time just making one drink and walking over to you. “I call this one the Lover’s Shot,” he slurs, bringing the glass to your lips.

“You use that line on everyone?” you question, letting Yeonjun tilt up your face with his finger and pour the concoction down your throat.

“Nah, specially curated for you,” Yeonjun answers, wiping the astray alcohol that missed your lip with his thumb.

“It’s…something,” you strain, the alcohol burning your throat, but not as much as Yeonjun’s eyes boring into yours.

“Not the best review but I’ll take it,” Yeonjun murmurs, placing an experimental hand on your waist. You try not to shriek as you feel your stomach churn.

You offer no words of protest as Yeonjun’s slender fingers slide underneath your top, caressing your bare skin.

Maybe it was the alcohol filtering your senses but a part of you wanted to make-believe that the entire campus’ crush wanted you too.

“I could show you something a bit tastier,” Yeonjun says, gently pinching your waist.

You feel hot.

“Yeah?” you manage to get out.

“Is this alright?” he innocently murmurs before kissing you on the corner of your mouth.

His breath against your cheek is soft and unimaginable.

“It is,” you answer before moving your head so his lips land on yours instead. You tried not to smile as you felt his pillowy lips upon yours, his other hand on the back of your neck as he tilted it.

The hairs on the back of your neck stand up as Yeonjun guides you and presses you against the counter, slipping a knee in between your legs as you reach over the tug on his hair.

“My room?” you slip out in between kisses.

“How about mine?” Yeonjun smiles, breath hot on your neck, “Nobody there to bother us.”

That was enough for you.

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

the next morning and few weeks;

#yeonjun smau #yeonjun x you #yeonjun x y/n #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun x gender neutral reader #yeonjun texts #yeonjun fics #yeonjun boyfriend texts #txt smau #txt x reader

[drewharrisonwriter]

Donor

Part 1 | Part 1.5 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Pairings: Bestie Henry Cavill x OFC A/N, Warnings: 18+, Talk of artificial insemination, peeing in a cup, sperm, and more. LOL I wrote this in an hour, IDK where I pulled this from. Not beta-ed. Also, I'm pretty sure this doesn't make so much sense in terms of plot, and being realistic. But come on, let this delulu queen live her life. You're welcome to join. Summary: You ask (beg) your best friend, Henry to donate--sperm.

I’m AO3, too as MoonDjarin ^_^

“Hank, pleaaaase���” You pleaded, dragging the last word. Henry laughed at your frustration but still could not wrap his head around what you’re asking of him.

“You’re going insane.” He jokes, causing you to drop your back on the carpet with a soft thud, covering your face with your palms as you landed.

“It’s just like peeing in a cup.” Your reply came out muffled. Henry just snorted and tried his best to stifle a laugh.

Nearly 18 years of friendship and here you are, seemingly at the end of your rope, asking your best friend to father the child you so ache for and he laughs at your ridiculous solution, telling you he’s not going to be responsible for a “turkey baster baby”.

“I don’t like peeing in a cup. Besides, why go the turkey baster way when you can go… au naturelle?”

“You know exactly why…” You said, sitting up, and gathering the profiles of sperm donors from the (sperm) bank. You and Henry had been going through each profile over the past few hours, laughing and making faces at the notes.

“And I thought Tinder was bad.” He commented earlier.

Henry got up and took the bottles of beer on the coffee table and walked back to the kitchen to open new ones.

“Tell me why won’t you do it?” You asked him, eyes round and glazed with tears that are threatening to fall any second.

He hates seeing you like this.

He sighed and admitted, “If I were to have any children of my own, I’d rather have them borne out of love and not out of… desperation after a really bad break up.”

“But I’m not asking you to be… a father. Just a donor.” You countered.

"Darling, please. Reaaally think about what you're asking of me."

"I have! I wouldn't be asking you if I haven't. Come on, Hank..."

"Right, not more than an hour after dropping sperm bank Tinder and you've thought this through." He said sarcastically and you pouted.

"Well, think about it, too!" You asked of him. "It's the ideal situation."

"How? Tell me exactly why it's so ideal." He said, running a hand through his face and resting his chin on his palm as he waited for your brilliant idea.

"Well, first of all, we love each other. So the child won't be borne not out of love." You began, mocking his accent and his statement from earlier. He snickered and pinched the bridge of his nose, "Jesus," He muttered.

"Plus, I won't ask you for anything, Hank. No child support, no emotional support. You don't have to see them. You're not even going to be on the birth certificate."

Henry winced at each of your points. "Darling, you know so well that I'm always your emotional support. And d'you really think I can go around just being Uncle Hank?” He replied with an eye roll as he took a sip of his beer.

"Yeah, how hard could that be?" You exclaimed.

"Very." He said sternly, looking you straight in the eye.

"Y/N." He began. "You know so well I won't be able to sit here with you holding a child knowing it's mine and not be involved in all ways."

“God, you’re too emotional.” You rolled your eyes at his response as you drank from your beer bottle.

“I am! And I’m sorry, darling. I can’t just give away my children. They’re not the meals you make for me every week.”

You laughed at that. "So you admit it, you don't like the meals I prep for you?"

"That's beside the point."

You'll get back to that later. You sighed out loud as you both drank.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

“Why do you desperately want this?”

That ought to get you thinking hard.

You sighed and asked yourself the same thing, reflecting on what started this vision of yourself with a child, and what turned it to longing and aching, then desperation.

Growing up without present parents, you basically become an extended Cavill sibling. The sister they never had, or as the youngest Cavill, Charlie, would like to joke, the no-choice sister. That family took you in like their own kin, having you over for dinner almost every evening, and spending weekends and vacations with them.

It's not that you're not well off, financially. Your parents were just really successful actors who don't pay you much any attention but showers you with plenty of lavish gifts and an American Express Black card. Which, Henry's mother found really heartbreaking and his father pitied you on.

You were 15 when you met Henry. He was already a budding actor with a couple of productions and a movie or two in his portfolio. You were a bright and young singer-songwriter from Italy, about to break it into the English-language audience with a catchy single that Henry happened to star in the music video of.

It was easy falling into a friendship with Henry. He was kind, funny, a little nerdy, but he's also such a gentleman, and treats you and talks to you like an equal despite the five-year age gap.

It didn't take long before you met his family when he invited to his birthday party. You didn't know exactly how the events played out that day, but somehow, at the end of it all, you walked out of their home being a part of it.

You got along so well with his brothers, you and his mother already sharing secrets. You figured she was excited to have a girl in the house as none of her children would bring their girlfriends for them to meet. His father was so easy to please, a couple of jokes here and a few football arguments there, and you won his heart. Not like you were even trying, but you were glad that you got along with all of them.

Henry drove you home that night and when he parked in your empty driveway, he jumped out to open the door for you. You cried in the passenger seat with the door open and he stood there, leaning on the doorframe as you confessed to him your jealousy and longing for that kind of family.

He pulled you in and wrapped you in a tight hug beneath the street lamp.

"Hank, you know so well there is nothing I want more in life at this moment than to have a family."

"I don't get it, Y/N." He said quietly, "You're definitely the smartest person I know. You're a literal genius..." He thought of your first few conversations on the set of your first English-language music video, and learning that not only you spoke several languages fluently, but you are also about to start university at such an early age. It impressed him so much.

"You've accomplished so much in your career, you're still young, there are so many things you can do with your life, why do you go back to this?" He asked and you just shrugged.

"I feel incomplete. What can I say? A dream is a dream."

"Gerry was a dream, too." He said and you looked at him surprised at bringing up your ex fiancé.

He was indeed a dream. You met Gerry at an evening talk show as a fellow guest. He didn't hide the fact that he was so enamored by you and that he's such a big fan of your music. You, being a fan of him, too, was just so happy to hear him say all that in person.

It was an instant connection, and it didn't take long for you and Gerry to start a long, and at the time, seemingly, lasting and perfect relationship.

"Sorry." He muttered. "But it makes me wonder, you never talked about it, just casually said that things didn't work out. Knowing you, things don't just not work out like that."

And he's right, you know he's right.

Gerry loves you a lot. You love him, too. But for all the years you've been together with the high-profile action star, the talk of kids almost never came up, at least the serious talk about kids. Until you brought it up soon after he proposed, and he confessed that he had a vasectomy shortly before you met.

You were not mad. You understood, vasectomies are reversible. But Gerry didn't want to have it reversed, ever. He admitted that the reason he got it in the first place was to not accidentally have kids as he fully intended to be childless.

You understood that, too. But it broke your heart.

Regardless, you had a clean break up, but never felt the need to tell people, even your friends or family as to why. Just that things didn't work out.

"Gerry didn't want to start a family." You told Henry.

"What?" He asked, surprised. His brows furrowed and his mouth hung slightly open at your revelation. You just nodded.

"I don't understand, you were to be married." You just nodded again, and took a sip of your beer. You told him the truth about Gerry, and Henry felt his heart breaking for you.

Henry reached for your hand from across the coffee table, enveloping your tiny hands in his big ones.

"And that's a deal breaker for you." He said softly, coming to the realization.

"Yeah." You replied. "So... there you go."

"But you know what comes after the last one, right?"

"What?"

"The next one." He joked, trying to make the air in the room lighter. He smiled at his success when you snickered.

"I'm tired, Hank. Tired of getting to know new people. I've been with Gerry for four years, and before that... well you know." It was Henry's turn to snicker.

He knows so well. All the heartbreaks, disappointments, even the rebounds, met most of them. He was always there at your highest of highs, and always down with you when things didn't work out.

"I get that." He finally answered, thinking about his own strings of ex girlfriends, and an ex-fiancé. At one point, you both feel very proud of the situation you found yourselves in, both engaged to beautiful people at the same time.

You even toasted to it last New Year's eve, not knowing that both promises of a lifetime of love would fall apart in a matter of months. He, too, wanted what you wanted. A family of his own, being the only one amongst his brothers to be single and childless.

He thought he might have had that with his ex fiance. Telling him she was pregnant when she caught a whiff of him about to break things off. He was caught off guard when she told him and he didn't even waste a moment to put a ring on her finger, falling for her lies.

Maybe it was not so bad, making your dream come true. You can always discuss co-parenting, he thought and he's sure you'd allow it.

He pondered on it some more.

Henry rested his head on the cool glass top of the coffee table, his hand never left yours. He let out a breath, fogging the glass beneath him as he gently squeezed your hand.

He shut his eyes tight, and muttered to himself, "Please don't make me regret this."

"What?" You asked, not quite hearing what he said.

"Okay."

"Okay, what?"

"Okay, I'll do it. I'll--be your turkey baster baby's donor."

With that you burst out crying and he stood up, took your hand and guided you to his arms. He wrapped you up in that big, warm hug, that you always find comfort in.

"Set an appointment in the morning, darling." He whispered and you cried some more and muttered a yes, thank you.

18 years of friendship with Henry Cavill, and this is where you find yourself: at a crossroads that neither of you could have predicted.

The weight of his decision settled between you like a tangible presence, and as you hugged each other tightly, you knew that this was a turning point in your relationship, an uncharted territory.

Read next part: Part 1.5 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

#henry cavill #henry cavill fic #henry cavill x #henry cavill smut #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill x female reader #henry cavill x little!reader #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill x you

[vicsnook]

Backseat Lovin’ | Bob Floyd x Reader

word count: 1544

warnings: SMUT, MINORS DNI 18+, Drinking

notes: Hi y’all! I’ve been back on my Bob quick lately after seeing the promo for lessons of chemistry so here’s a little something something 😏. Hope y’all enjoy & don’t forget to like/reblog. Got some Rhett fics coming soon btw!

Bob was sitting in the sand reading a book while the squad played a game of dogfight football when you spot him. His brows furrowed as he read, making you chuckle which made him look at you and give you a small wave before returning to his book. You blushed at having been caught staring but waved back. For months you’ve been dropping hints that you like Bob but he seemed oblivious to it. Penny called you back in from your break so you snuck one more glance at the clueless WSO and headed back in.

The A/C did little to cool the heat as you washed off some glasses at the bar. Thankfully you’d worn a tank top today but were not enjoying the extra attention that came with that. “What can I get ya?” you asked Bob, who had just taken a seat in front of you.

“I’ll take a beer.”

Since you met Bob, he always ordered a lemonade and despite the insistence of Hangman and Rooster, he’d never drank alcohol. You set down the now dry glass and look up at him, arching an eyebrow in question. He gave you a half-smile as he shrugged his shoulders in response. You could feel him eyeing you as you reached for the bottle opener.

6 beers later Bob’s half-smile was replaced by a mischievous grin. He went to ask you for another beer but was cut short by Hangman whose hand he noticed lingered way longer than it needed to when you handed him a drink. As he stood up to go to the restroom, the alcohol rushed to his head, making him stumble and nearly trip over a stool.

“Hey Bob, you alright?” You ask him, watching as he waves you off and continues to stumble until he finally makes it to the restroom. “I wonder what’s gotten into him.” You murmur to Hangman who was still looking in the direction Bob went.

Hangman turned back to you, giving you one of his know it all looks and his million dollar smile that you hated before saying, “He’s just trying to work up the courage to ask you out, y/n.” You stood there stunned, as Hangman chuckled and walked away. Maybe all the hints you’d dropped finally would pay off tonight.

Half an hour later, you noticed Bob still wasn’t back from the restroom so you flagged down Penny and went on your break to check on Bob. Knocking on the men’s bathroom door, no sound came from the other side, so you turn the knob and it was luckily unlocked.

“Bob?”

He was sitting on the floor leaning against a stall nearly passed out. When shaking him, he looks up at you and reaches up to tuck your hair behind your ear. “I’ve been wanting to do that,” the tip of his ears turn pink at the admission as you help him up to his feet. “Why didn’t you?”

“Too chicken.” He drank the glasses of water you passed him throughout the rest of the night without complaint, sobering up slowly. If you learned one thing about him tonight was that he was a lightweight.

Everyone was almost gone by now except the dagger squad who were still playing pool. You finished wiping all the tables down and turned around to put up chairs when you noticed Bob was already halfway through doing so. He smiled at you when you caught his eye and continued until it was all done.

“I’ll stay guys, gotta walk Y/N to her car,” Bob told the group after you’d cash them out. It wasn't the first time he stayed behind to walk you to your car but today you were more nervous than usual as he followed you out and watched you lock the back door.

Your words caught in your throat as you turned around to find Bob right in front of you. His eyes looked down to your lips and before you could say anything his lips were latching onto yours. He kisses you softly at first but then it turns desperate and you have to hold onto him to not lose your balance. He pulls you closer to him as you run your fingers through his hair and a moan escapes your lips as you feel his growing bulge against your thigh.

You manage to slide your hand between your bodies, cupping him through his pants. That action alone has him pushing you against the back door and dipping his head to kiss your neck. “Follow me to the truck,” he whispers in your ear.

His truck was parked on the side of the Hard Deck which was not illuminated and was the perfect private spot since it couldn’t be seen from the road. You take his hand and climb into the back seat closing the door behind you. “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asks, and you respond by straddling his lap.

His hands grip your ass as you grind against him. “I need to hear you say it honey.” He whispers, kissing your jaw softly. “Yes,” you respond, tilting your head as he trails kisses down your neck and you’re almost certain you’ve soaked through your shorts as he continues to rub against your clit with his bulge.

He slides his hands under your shirt and kneads your breasts and you want him even more now. “Bob I want you,” you manage to say and he’s kissing you rougher now, biting your bottom lip as he pulls away to lift you off his lap so you can slide off your shorts.

He sets you back down on his clothed bulge and rocks you back and forth even harder than before. “Good girl,” he whispers in your ear as you match his pace and feel yourself getting closer. Your grip on his hair tightens and he presses you down against him even more. But it’s when kisses than one spot of your neck though that you are pushed over the edge.

He holds you close as you ride out your orgasm and is careful setting you onto the seat beside him as he unbuckles his belt and pulls down his jeans. You blush at the soaked spot in the front. His cock springs free and you feel a shiver go down your spine at the sight of it. You’d heard the rumors that he was well endowed but didn’t know until know how much truth that held.

He ripped open the condom and slid it on then reached out to help you position yourself over him. The tip of his cock pressed at your entrance and you slowly slid on to it, moaning at the feeling of it stretching you open. His breathing was heavy as he tried not to buck up into you.

You set a slow pace, moving up and down as he holds on to your hips and his lips catch yours. The tip of his cock hits your g-spot repeatedly and you throw your head back in pleasure. He wraps his arms around you and begins to thrust up into you sharply. Your nails dig into his back and you try to keep up with his pace but as you feel your high coming, you increase the pace.

Your moans fill the car and he feels you clench around him. He kisses along neck and collarbones, anything he can get his lips on as you move faster. “I’m so close,” you wail as he circles your clit with his thumb.

“Cum for me baby,” he commands, circling your clit faster as you ride him erratically. Your legs start to shake as you reach your high and he continues thrusting into you through your orgasm. You pulse around his cock and he reaches his high too, pulling you closer to his chest as he comes.

Both of you are out panting, as he slowly pulls you off him and you settle in the seat beside him. He takes off the condom and carefully pulls his pants back up, running outside quickly to dispose of it. He gets a pack of wipes from the front console once he’s back and cleans you up, kissing the side of your thigh as he slides your underwear and shorts back on. You smile lazily at him and take his outstretched hand, your legs wobbling when they hit the asphalt.

He pulls you close to him and gives you a soft kiss and he knows at that moment that he wants this not once but for the rest of his life. You lay your head on his chest and smile, hoping this leads to more. “Can I drive you home? I can bring you tomorrow to get your car,” he asks and you nod happily.

As you reach your house, you’ve made up your mind so when he walks you to the door, you pull him inside your house with you. He follows with no hesitation and kicks off his jeans, joining you to cuddle in bed. “Can I take you out tomorrow?” he mumbles sleepily, kissing the top of your head. “Absolutely.” You reply, drifting off to sleep happily in the arms of Bob Floyd.

#top gun fandom #top gun maverick #bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x reader #bob floyd #bob floyd smut

[songmingisthighs]

Pretty Cute

group : ateez

pairing : yunho × reader

genre : smut

word count : 3.4 k

warning : mdni, explicit smut, yunho and (y/n)'s kind of a perv, mutual pining, cnc ((y/n)'s a horny drunk), somnophilia, sex (not piv; fingering), slight hint of size kink?

a/n : happy late LATE yuyu day &lt;3 i wrote this impulsively and i was gonna post it on yunho's birthday but things got in the way and suddenly it felt weird writing smut in my state. but hey, i hope this makes up for my absence!

buy me coffee ?

Both you and Yunho came home giggling through the door, courtesy of the alcohol you both drank earlier. Your steps were wobbly and staggered as you tried walking into your apartment with your best friend in tow, trying to catch up with you. Seeing this, Yunho giggled and pulled you by your shoulders so you could lean on him slightly as you both managed to take your shoes off sagely and proceed further into the apartment. "Okay, we gotta be careful because you're stumbling, mumbling, grumbling, tumbling, schcumbling..." Yunho's giggle made you giggle as well, thinking that he sounded both ridiculous and absolutely hilarious for some reason. But you just let him stick by you because you love his presence and even more so when you were drunk.

It had been a custom for Yunho to be very touchy with you both in public and in private as he was your teddy retriever and you were his... (y/n). Even earlier at the bar, you enjoyed the feeling of him with a hand behind you resting on the bar as his body towered over you, covering you from most of the people at the club. You sipped your vodka cranberry happily which gave you warmth from the inside while he provided you with warmth from the outside, your exposed legs didn't feel as exposed even after Wooyoung made a vaguely inappropriate comment about them. He might be one of your best friends but he was still a boneheaded idiot that you love so much.

People thought that it was weird how touchy and open you were to each other, some even thinking that you both had dated. Fact is, you wouldn't deny him if he asked you out, but you didn't know if he felt that way about you. Sure, he was nice to you, but so was he to everyone else. What makes you so special? Other than the occasional (very freaking often) compliments and remarks about how he would be so lucky if he was able to call you his wherever you show him your outfits or your accomplishments, you were doubtful that he would see you in a romantic way.

Plopping onto the couch, you both rested at each end with your legs propped on his lap and his hands resting on your shin. "God, we over did it tonight," the moan you let out turned into a soft hum when you felt his hands slowly caressing the skin under his touch as he chuckled, "Speak for yourself, I can still take a couple more beers in me," he teased. You narrowed your eyes at him in mock judgment, "Sure, Giggly Giggleson, you DEFINITELY didn't drink too much even when you started flirting with me." Yunho bit his bottom lip at the mention of him flirting with you earlier, giddy that you actually noticed that he was indeed flirting and wasn't just being friendly as he intended. "How can I not when you were sitting there looking so devastatingly beautiful and delicious," his tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip and your eyes couldn't help but focus on its movement, sure that his bottom lip was not the only wet lip at that moment in time. But you shook your head slightly to prevent yourself from saying something stupid like blurting out how much you want his tongue shoved down your throat. To mask your inner turmoil, you rolled your eyes and snap your leg at him in mock annoyance to which he just chuckled.

The movement you made shifted the position of your mini skirt, not realizing that it had ridden up slightly. Thankfully, Yunho was gentlemanly enough to pull it back to its original position and length, of course after battling his inner urge to just pull it further up and expose your panties to him that he know for sure would be very adorable. "You're wearing a short skirt, (y/n), you gotta be careful," he pointed out, putting his hands back to where they were so his mind wouldn't focus on what was under the skirt. You rolled your eyes and moved to straddle his lap, surprising Yunho but his hands somehow found purchase on your hips in a secured grip. "There's no one here but you, Yunnie," when you draped your hands on his shoulders, Yunho was sure that you could feel his erection forming and was just screwing with him. But in case you didn't, he wanted to play it safe. "Which is even more reason why you need to be careful," Yunho leaned to peck you on the nose which caused warmth to bloom in your chest and a rosy tint to spread to your cheeks from the spot where Yunho planted his lips on. "And why is that?" You asked, eyes glimmering with slight hope, "Because you're my best friend and you're so irresistable in this skirt. If you shake your cute lil' butt at me one more time I might not be able to hold myself back from seeing what's under your slutty little skirt."

Hearing Yunho said that made you automatically wet and you had to feign rolling your eyes and pushing Yunho's face away as you got off him to excuse yourself to the bathroom. While you tried to calm yourself in the bathroom, Yunho defeatedly covered his eyes with his arms, totally embarrassed and slightly regretting that he said that in the first place. But he was right, though, he had sported a boner as a result from you sitting on top of him, knowing full well that your cunt was separated from his cock by a couple layer of clothing items. Fuck, he was so close to feeling you. With a groan, Yunho depleted into the couch, with his eyes closed, he thought of what he was going to say to you.

Meanwhile, in the bathroom, you were screaming into your bunched up towel, absolutely wrecked by Yunho's words. Sure, you wore it because you remembered Yunho being so absolutely transfixed with the item when you both went shopping merely a couple days ago. Your plan was in motion and you don't know how to feel about that as you were sure your chances of success was no bigger than 32%. The occassional ass glancing was normal, but a full blown confession that Yunho wanted to devour your cunt made your arousal leak out of you like a broken faucet. So before you throw caution out the window, you thought it would be best to calm yourself down a bit.

Your inebriated state dulled your sense of time because when you finally got out of the bathroom, you saw Yunho on the couch, sleeping with his arms above his head. Pouting from disappointment, you walked over to him and stood by his side, thinking about what you're supposed to do now. Should you wake him up? Should you tuck him in? What if he thought what happened was just a dream and he forgot about it? But he looked so peaceful and calm and so so pretty, how could you even consider waking him up?

Yunho truly looked beautiful when he slept; his long lashes that you're so jealous of, his fair complexity, his plump lips. You had to remind yourself that Yunho was asleep and despite his confession earlier, you should try to hold yourself back from mauling him. No matter how hard it was for you. Though as your eyes trailed from his face to his neck, then his chest, then his shoulders and arms, and finally landed on his fingers, you swallowed the lump that formed in your throat. It was long, pretty, and you know how some men have a severe case of man hands that made their fingers look stumpy and unappealing, but not Yunho. His fingers are just like his body, dainty and flexible yet they oddly enhances his masculinity. And for the life of you, you really do want to know how he would use them on you. Phantom feelings of Yunho's grip on your ass from earlier resurfaced and you shuddered at the memory, remembering how they were firm and possessive yet gentle and careful, it made you feel dangerous but provided a sense of safety as if telling you that you could trust him. And you do.

Without realizing, you had taken steps closer to his outstretched hand, standing so close to it that he was barely grazing you. For some reason, you could feel the warmth radiating from him even just from his digits. Your mind started wondering how exactly he would grab you and where. Your legs? Your knees? Your ankles? Or is he the type to spread you open by pinning your legs on the sides using his body? His wide shoulders would've definitely spread you open easily and it's not like you wouldn't open your legs for him. How can you not? It's Yunho for fuck's sake, your hot as fuck best friend who you sometimes (a lot of times) thought of whilst touching yourself.

As if he knew, Yunho stirred in his sleep which made you freeze in your spot, not wanting him to see what you were doing. He moved whilst still in his unconscious state and his hands moved slightly which unfortunately for you, pressed into your inner thigh with his soft palm making contact with the suddenly sensitive skin. Your body coiled from the touch and you couldn't help but let out a whimper. Everything felt so close yet so far all of a sudden and you wanted more. Though, you were fully aware that you shouldn't because Yunho was dead to the world and it would be wrong. But it felt so. so right and when else will you be getting a chance like this? Though, it didn't feel right as you weren't sure if he was okay with it or not. But he was just... Right there. Despite your better judgement, with your alcohol-soaked brain, your body seemed to move on its own before you could even make a coherent decision. The moment you realized what you were doing, you were already grinding against Yunho's arm with a lump forming in your throat. The guilt was making your stomach churn but you just couldn't stop what you were already doing. Even more so, you even moved down a bit so you could feel Yunho's long fingers directly on your covered slit. You had to cover your mouth with both your hands to suppress your moans because you didn't want him to wake up seeing you like that. Or you just didn't want any irrefutable reason to stop.

Unfortunately for you, your plans didn't go accordingly. Too busy with your ministration, you didn't realize Yunho slowly woke up with fluttering eyes and head slightly clearer than before. Ironically, the first thing that popped into his head was what you were doing as he had yet to realize that you were pleasuring yourself (or testing how you think he would pleasure you) on him. So when his consciousness finally came back wholly, the first thing he realized was something warm on his hand and something soft on his skin. "What the," Yunho craned his head slightly to see you with one hand covering your mouth and the other lifting your skirt as you ground yourself on his hand like a bitch in heat. A bitch with the neediest moans and the cutest pair of panties. God, was this a dream? Was this an imagination? Should he call on you and see if either you disappeared or he woke up in his bed with a raging boner? Or should he test the reality out himself?

Once again, your body froze when you felt something probing your cunt over the pathetic, flimsy excuse of a material. Your head snapped forward to see Yunho with his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes zeroed in on your crotch as if it was the most entertaining show ever. Or as if it was Fluffy, the three-headed dog as per his interest. "Yunho," the call made Yunho's eyes flit up to your eyes but his hand never stopped its movements on your, now that you took notice of it, sensitive pussy. You realized that you should have added something after calling him and you were sure you had the words at the tip of your tongue but when his damn middle finger slipped into your panties and started probing in your hole, you could actually feel your brain stalled and your tongue rolled into your throat.

It seemed like it would go on forever, the gaze you shared with Yunho, which made the fire that was starting in your chest grew considerably in a short span of time. From your perspective, you couldn't help but look at how lust-filled his eyes were, how he seemed hungry for you. He looked absolutely hot and maybe it was because you had never seen him look like that or look at you like that. It was a good thing though because even from just seeing it once, you know you couldn't get enough. From Yunho's side, he was taking his damn sweet time enjoying the way you look falling apart with only his fingers. Not that you knew about it, but he had a fair amount of experience imagining you under him, being used by and for him. He had even imagined you riding him like a cowboy making all sorts of noises from how good he felt inside you and also from the praises that he was giving you. Sure, he would like to praise you right then and there but by God, he was just so awestruck at how you looked and sounded. It was even better than his imagination, it was more than what he imagined. And he needed more.

Snapping you out of your pleasure-induced state, Yunho ripped your panties off easily and pulled you into his lap with a single gasp that escaped your lips. You barely registered the pieces of flimsy panties on the floor when Yunho pulled you so close that your noses were touching. "Don't worry, I'll buy cuter, frillier, and sexier panties for you," a chill ran up your spine when Yunho licked your bottom lip with a smug smirk on his face, "And you're going to do a little runway show for me then." With better positioning, Yunho was able to fully slip two of his thick and long fingers inside you with one swift move all thanks to your slick cunt. "Shi- fuck," you whimpered out as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, you felt your thighs tense up at how good Yunho's fingers were filling you and it was ridiculous because it was just his damn fingers. The sight of you on top of him was like a valuable renaissance art because it's dirty yet classy and he truly loved the physical proof of how he affected you so. Yunho used his free hand to flip your cute tiny skirt up to reveal the sight of your pussy absolutely devouring his digits. He loved it, he loved it so much, and he loved you so much. But that confession is for another time when his fingers are not up in you and he didn't want to make your arousal drip out of your cunt and drench his arm.

"I want to see you fuck yourself on my finger baby, make a show for me," Yunho felt his dick twitch in his pants when you let out a breathy whimper and your bottom lip quivered so adorably. "Show Yunnie how much he can make a mess of you," he demanded. Your heart dropped to your stomach when he used the nickname you used on him in a sexual way. Hearing that automatically made your hands move to his shoulders, anchoring your position as you began fucking yourself on his fingers. You were glad that he started with two because you didn't know how you were supposed to do it with three or more without your legs giving out. But you wanted to do your best to show him what you were capable of doing. Or maybe what he was capable of doing to you.

"Fuck I love your fingers Yunnie," you moaned out as your head dropped back, exposing your neck to Yunho which he utilized to plant his lips on your neck to begin marking you. Your grip on his shoulders tightened considerably when he delivered a particular suck and your mind immediately raced to imagine how that same suck would feel on your clit. Better yet, how he would look with his chin wet with your arousal between your legs. Just the thoughts made your pussy clench and your mouth drooled slightly, something Yunho didn't miss for even a second. With a chuckle sent through the skin of your neck, your body shuddered with the vibration that felt like electricity in your body. Along with your bouncing, as you fucked yourself on his fingers, your hips rolled forward when he pressed the heel of his palm on your clit, furthering your pleasure to the point that it was almost unbearable. "I- I wanna cum," you mumbled, biting your bottom lip to suppress a squeal when Yunho curled his fingers in you, accidentally grazing your g-spot. "Come on then baby, cum on my fingers and show me how much you're a good girl you are," he made a show of biting your upper chest through your sweater, dulling any pain but making your skin tingle. "You are, a good girl, right? A good, good girl in the tiniest skirt that you wear to tease any and all men that look in your way," he teased so smugly, loving how you seem to shrink under his words and he just loved it. He loves your tiny self (though metaphorically) in your tiny clothes that accentuate your everything and just drove him absolutely nuts. Your head shook quickly as you fucked yourself quicker and harder on his fingers with his palm still stimulating your clit, "No, no, no, Yunnie, just you. Only you. I wear this tiny, slutty skirt just for you," you spoke but your voice sounded small and breathy, exasperation beyond obvious to you and him. "Fuck, you'll be the death of me," Yunho grunted, thinking how much he was going to ravage you after this.

With a single push, Yunho managed to reposition you to be on your back with your head against the other armrest, legs spread open for him on his lap to provide easy access. "You better cum now, okay?" was all the warning you got before he fucked your hole even quicker than you were fucking yourself before. The slick you produced lubricated his movements effectively as well as letting out obnoxious, sloppy, sloshing sounds that told him just how wet you were. Yunho was definitely going to find a day (or night) soon enough just dedicated to eating you out.

You were reduced to a mess with your messy hair and trembling lips. Not to mention the pornographic moans you let out that may or may not cause you to receive complaints from the tenants on your floor or any other floors or even the next buildings. But you don't care, not at all, and especially not when Yunho made you cum so hard your hips were suspended mid-air, asscheeks clenched, and pussy leaking more of your juice onto Yunho's fingers. Though embarrassed at your situation, you found yourself incapable of moving whatsoever which was a contrast to Yunho who was looking at you with pure wonder and amazement, affection mixed with hunger. It was only when your hips rested back on the couch that Yunho took his fingers out of your cunt slowly, catching your attention. You couldn't deny that you almost drooled at the sight of Yunho sticking the fingers that were just in you into his mouth and sucking on them as if they were candy.

Distracted, you didn't realize that Yunho had begun unbuckling his pants and taking out his dick until you felt something heavy and hot slapping your cunt a couple times. It was only when you looked down that you saw his cock which was by far the biggest you have ever seen that you let out a soft squeak as your eyes widened. When you looked back up, Yunho was eyeing you hungrily like a predator.

"My turn."

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[nmakii]

Cuteness with Yan! Alastor... Imagine Alastor drinking too much and getting drunk with the reader (the reader hates Alastor, because he is always irritating you)... Well, what no one expected is that Alastor was drunk and drunk reader with these are being cute with each other, as if they were a couple (something they are not).. Well now reader is in her bed with drunk alastor by her side, while reader caresses his ears (it wasn't because a drunk Alastor threatened the reader not to leave him and that she had to cuddle him).. Imagine the two of them waking up the next day in each other's arms, it would be funny

WHISKEY ON ICE, SUNSET AND VINE

— alastor sucks. he sucks even more when he’s drunk cause he acts so weird.

— i drank likeee 6 shots n a beer tday! i wanted more but my friends cut me off thats sucks fam i also kinda puked a bit after i swam

after the battle against heaven, lucifer helped make the hotel much more grander than it ever was; magnificent rooms, beautiful decor— it was like a heaven in hell.

and to celebrate the rebuilding, what better than a few drinks?

as you uncapped another beer, alastor caught your eye— swishing the whiskey in his glass as he talks with niffty. that remaining smile on his face as annoying as ever.

taking a huge chug of your beer, the sour taste lingering on your breath as you glare at him. quite obviously, to add.

“my dear, is something the matter..?” alastor asked, smile seeming strained from his confusion. “shut up, bitch” you huffed and walked away, sitting onto the sofa with angel, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“what’s wrong, toots? ‘ya had too much already? party’s just started like 25 minutes ago…” angel laughed. “noooo… ‘m just a little sleepyyyy…” you whined, gagging slightly at the vomit that threatens to come out.

you take another sip of your beer, settling onto angel’s shoulder properly before your eyes slowly shut.

angel had let you rest for the majority of the party. that is until cherri dared him into doing something for money, something he couldn’t resist.

“yo, smiles! sit in my spot for a bit, will ‘ya?” angel called out to alastor; quite intoxicated already, but not quite showing it. “hmm..? alright then” alastor nodded, taking angel’s spot.

as soon as alastor sat down, you clung back onto him, as if you thought alastor was angel. a little hiccup came from you as you settled your head in his chest.

alastor— taking the opportunity to be close with you, since you had a particular distaste for him, decided to bring you in closer. he had wrapped an arm around you, pulling you onto his lap, close enough to rest his head on your’s.

“‘m sleepy… you… smell super nice” you sighed, bringing some of alastor’s coat closer to your face, breathing in the scent. “mmh… why, thank you, my dear…” he grinned, the static in his voice making his thanks sound disingenuous. “come now, let’s get you to bed.” he laughed as he carried you to your room.

as alastor dropped you on the bed, he fell down with you. “go nowww… small bed, y’know?” you pushed alastor away, settling into your bed. alastor was, unfortunately though, stronger than you. he was able to keep still despite your pushing. “don’t act like that, dear. just sleep on top of me, we’ll fit.” he said, pulling you onto his chest and laying a hand on your head.

as you dozed off again, your hands reached to touch alastor’s fuzzy ears. under your touch, alastor hummed, quite comforted by your warm palm.

you yawned out, covering your mouth as the scent of alcohol reeks from you. alastor laughed at how adorable you seem as he pats your back. “go to bed already. i’m quite sure we— or at least you’ll be hungover tomorrow.”

unbeknownst to the two of you, charlie and angel had gone searching for the two of you. “ahh, where could those two have gone..? and more importantly— how did no one see them leave?!” charlie frowned as she checked the rooms in the hotel.

“calm down, charlie… alastor’s an overlord, rememba’? he could totally protect s/o. there’s really no need to worry…” angel told charlie, comforting her.

“oh, they’re in here!” charlie yelled out as she opened the door to your room. “aww… they’re cuddling! so cute…” charlie cooed at the sight. “ahh, sure…” angel hesitantly agreed.

“c’mon, let’s leave them alone. wouldn’t wanna wake them up…” charlie beckons angel to leave as she quietly closes the door, leaving to return to the party. “tch, can’t wait to see if someone’s getting murdered tomorrow…” angel sarcastically mumbled to himself.

the next morning, you woke up. curtains still closed the way you left it when you settled in, and one pounding headache.

your head reeled as your vision blurred, losing your sense of balance as you rolled off alastor’s chest. wait— alastor’s chest..?

you slapped him awake as you yelled at him. “what the fuck are you doing in my bed?!” you scowled. “hm? ah… i believe we were both drunk, nothing happened, i’m quite sure.” alastor assured you.

“i’m not worried about that, fucker! why the fuck were you being all cuddly?!” you frowned, pushing him out the room. “my dear, i believe it was you who kept touching my ears.” he smugly reminded you. “urgh, get. OUT!” you enunciated as you slammed your door shut.

“alastor!” charlie waved her hand out as she ran towards him. “sooo, i saw you and s/o last nightttt… did you two figure out your differences and become friends now??” charlie asked excitedly. “ah, unfortunately not, dear.” alastor’s eyebrows furrowing with annoyance.

#partly nonfiction LOL #sorry if ooc im still drunk 😔 #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #hasbin alastor #alastor hc #alastor headcanons #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor the radio demon

[virginsexgod69]

❝Jealous ❞

pairing Professor! Daryl Dixon x F! Student! Reader with a sprinkle of Professor Rick

summary After getting drunk with your friends, you wake up at Professor Dixon's place where you explore something new. Rick lets you despite the jealousy brewing inside him.

cw smut, voyeurism, unprotected p in v, jealousy but also cuckolding lowkey, teacher - student relations, power imbalance, age gap, creampie, blow jobs, mentions of underage drinking (Reader is 20, legal drinking age is 21), outdoor sex

2.7k words

series masterlist

"Ready yet?" Rosita asked. 

"Gimme a sec," you replied. You were sat on the floor of your dorm room, doing your makeup in front of the floor-length mirror. 

"I'm ready," Maggie said as she grabbed her purse. 

Your two best friends, Maggie and Rosita, wanted to go to a bar to celebrate finishing mid terms. You were apprehensive at first, considering you weren't twenty-one quite yet, but they promised you'd still have a good time. 

"Alright, let's go!" 

Maggie came back to the table carrying everyone's drinks- a cosmopolitan for Rosita and a scotch and soda for her. The drink she slid in front of you was pink with cherries in it. 

"Ooh, what's this?" you asked curiously. 

"Shirley Temple," Maggie said, struggling to hold back a laugh. Rosita bursted into a contagious fit of giggles, Maggie joining in, but you stared at them with a flat face. 

"What? S'not my fault you're not twenty-one yet," she told you once the two of them calmed down. 

"Ha. Ha," you said sarcastically before taking a sip of the non-alcoholic beverage. It was delicious, which made you madder. You drank with them all the time outside of bars, but now of all times Maggie wanted to abide by the law? 

"Thank god mid terms are over. We can finally rest," Maggie said, leaning back into her seat. 

"Is it just me, or was Professor Grimes' midterm unnecessarily hard?" Rosita asked. 

"I thought it was fine." 

"Speak of the devil," Maggie said and you all turned to look where she was looking. Over at the counter stood Professor Grimes and Professor Dixon, looking delicious in casual clothing. You shrunk in your seat, willing Rick to not see you. You weren't doing anything wrong, but you didn't want him seeing you at a bar to shatter the good girl image you worked so hard to maintain. Thankfully, when the men got their beers, they sat elsewhere without noticing you. You let out a breath of relief you didn't even know you were holding. 

"I'ma get me a real drink," you tell your friends as you stand up from the table. 

"Told you she'd want a big girl drink," Rosita joked. Maggie laughed but you just rolled your eyes. You sauntered over to the bar and ordered yourself a long island iced tea. Miraculously, your fake ID fooled the bartender, that or she just didn't care. You made sure to keep an eye on Rick’s table, making sure neither of the men saw you. 

“See, the fake ID did work!” You boasted upon returning to the table with your drink. 

“I’m surprised Eugene even made that for you,” Rosita commented. 

“I may have twisted the truth on why I needed it.” The three of you burst into a fit of laughter before going back to chatting about anything and everything. 

“I’m gonna order us a round of shots,” Rosita said after a while. 

After multiple rounds of shots- you lost count- the three of you were rather tipsy. Maggie and Rosita had to hold you up as you were too tipsy to walk straight. Neither of you were in a state to drive, so you had called a ride. 

“Look, it’s Professor Grimes!” You said a little too loudly, obviously pointing at him. Your friends shushed you, covering your mouth with a hand, not wanting the attention of their professor. But it was too late, him and Professor Dixon were on their way over.

“Everything alright, ladies?” He asked. He looked so good in that black t-shirt and jeans and so did Professor Dixon. The cotton fabric could barely restrain his strong arms as they were crossed over his chest. 

“Rick!” You squealed, wiggling yourself free from your friends’ arms and stumbling into his. He caught you and held a strong arm around your waist so you wouldn’t fall. The two women stared at the interaction strangely, but didn’t say anything. 

“C’mon, we gotta get back to the dorms,” Maggie said, holding her hand out toward you. 

“Nooo, wanna go with Rick,” you slurred, burying your face in his chest. Rick sighed. 

“I got her, I’ll make sure she gets to her dorm safe,” he promised. The women gave some pushback, but between Rick’s insistence and your whining, they finally agreed to let you go with him. When they finally got picked up by the ride you called, Rick picked you up bridal style and carried you to his car with Daryl in tow. 

"You fuckin' yer student?" Daryl asked before taking a drag of his cigarette. He and Rick were sat on his porch, having some beer and smoking together. You were inside, asleep on the couch in one of Daryl's t-shirts. You had fallen asleep in the car ride back to the dorms and neither man thought it’d look right to carry your sleeping form back to your room, so instead they took. You back to Daryl’s place. They couldn’t bring you back to Rick’s considering his wife and kid were there. 

"Yeah. S'more than that, though. She's more than just a good fuck," he explained. 

"Have her in one of my classes. She's such a tease." Although Rick laughed, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy. He didn't like the idea of you going around flirting with his colleagues like you do him. 

"Yeah? How so?" 

"Always wearin' those goddamn low cut tops and leanin' on my desk, or wearin' them tiny skirts with no panties on," he explained. Those little things you did were how you got Rick's attention in the first place. He wondered if he was the only one, or if you did this with all of your professors. The thought left a bad taste in his mouth. 

"Never gave into it?" Rick asked, shocked. This time Daryl laughed. 

"Ain' riskin' my job over no damn pussy!" 

“Hey!” You chimed in, offended. The men’s head snapped toward you, just now realizing you were awake. 

“You’re finally awake,” Rick commented. He, surprisingly, didn’t seem too happy to see you. Daryl’s face remained expressionless as he watched the two of you. 

“Where am I? What’s going on?” You asked, now way more sober than before. 

“You fell asleep in the car, so we took you to Daryl’s house. Got you changed into one of his spare shirts and let you sleep on his couch,” Rick explained cooly. You looked at Daryl and he just glanced up at you with a cigarette in his mouth. You were shocked he’d do something so nice for you, considering he didn’t even look your way, despite your advances. 

“Ain't you gonna thank him?” 

“Th-thank you, Dar- Professor Dixon,” you said, flustered. “Welcome,” he replied with a nod of his head. 

“Take a seat,” Rick ordered, patting his lap. You hesitantly sat on his lap, not really wanting to under the curious gaze of Daryl. With one hand, he roughly grabbed your face, forcing you to look at him. 

“You wanna tell me what you were doin’ at that bar, drunk?” 

“Uhh…drinking?” His grip tightened, squeezing your cheeks causing your lips to puff out. 

“Underage drinking?” 

“M-my birthday’s in a few months, Rick, it’s no big-“

“If I were still a cop, I’d’ve thrown your ass in jail.” His tone was dark, almost scary even. Your eyes watered, tears threatening to spill over. You’ve never seen him like this before. 

“Rick, why’re you bein’ so m-mean?” You whimpered. Rick understood the hypocrisy of his actions. Punishing you for having eyes for his colleague when he was a married man, using you as an escape from his commitment. It was wrong, but he couldn’t help the anger, the jealousy, he felt knowing he wasn’t the only one. 

“Why don’ you ask Professor Dixon?” He turned your head to face him. Shame washed over you. You didn’t want him seeing you like this, a tearful pathetic mess sitting on the lap of your superior after clinging to him like a drunk mess earlier. 

“Wha’s goin’ on? I’m c-confused?” You asked, finally letting your tears fall. 

Daryl noticed the change in his best friend’s demeanor as soon as he told him about your behavior in his class. Now knowing that you were Rick’s, he’d never betray him like that. No matter how tempted he was by your innocent doe eyes always paying attention to him when he taught, or the way you teased him with the little outfits you wore, or how you’d frequent his office hours, pretending to need help just so you could have one on one time with him. 

“Jus’ told him ‘bout your…interestin’ behavior in my class,” he innocently explained before finishing off his beer. He know how much trouble that’d get you in, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t interesting in how it’d play out. 

You turned to face Rick, ready to deny Daryl’s claims and defend yourself, but the stern look he gave you caused the words to die on your tongue. He lifted you off his lap and pushed you toward the other man, causing you to stumble and clumsily fall in into his lap. He caught you, but kept you at a distance, afraid to touch you, because if he did, he doubted he’d be able to stop. 

“If you wan’ him so bad, go on ahead and have him. That’s okay with you, right Daryl?” Rick grabbed another beer from the cooler and uncapped it with his teeth. You looked between the two of them, not even knowing what to think. Daryl, too, was looking at Rick apprehensively. 

“Rick, wha’s goin’ on?” Daryl asked. 

“Well she clearly wants you and I saw that way you’ve been lookin’ at her all night. So go on and have at each other,” he explained nonchalantly. You and Daryl exchanged a confused glance. Of course you wanted this to happen, obviously not in this way. Daryl did too. Having you in his lap in one of his shirts made his pants fit uncomfortably. You wanted to make a move, you really did, but what should've been a beautiful moment was awkward. Neither you nor Daryl knew if this was a test of some sorts to test either person's loyalty to Rick, or if he was really allowing this. 

"It's okay, sweetheart, show Professor Dixon how grateful you are for him helpin' you out." He seemed less angry and held sincerity in his eyes. You relaxed a little, having Rick give you commands was comforting. You slid off Daryl's lap and kneeled in between his legs, looking up at him through your lashes. You undid he belt and unzipped his pants, pulling them down a little after he lifted his hips to let you do so. You glanced over at Rick as you pulled Daryl's hard cock from his boxers. Rick just watched with a blank face and beer bottle in hand. Daryl's warm hand cupped you cheek, earning your full attention. 

"Don' look at Rick, look at me," he commanded softly. Butterflies erupted in your tummy seeing this side of the usually reserved professor. 

"Yes, sir." You licked him from base to tip along the vein on the underside of his cock a few times before taking him all the way into your mouth. He wasn't as girthy as Rick, but he exceeded him in length, making it hard to take all of him in your throat, but that didn't stop you from trying. You gagged when his tip hit the back of your throat, making your eyes water. 

"S'alright, girl, keep goin'," he coaxed. Warmth erupted throughout your body and you became hellbent on pleasuring the gorgeous man before you. You bobbed your head up and down on his dick, earning soft grunts from him here and there, but that wasn't enough, you wanted to have him panting and moaning. You held onto his strong thighs as you took him all the way, this time not gagging. Breathing through your nose, you increased your pace, earning some moans. His hand found the back of your head and held it down as he thrusted up into you, fucking your throat, your nose buried in his brown curls.  His moans were music to your ears and made your pussy clench on nothing. You ground your clit against your heel, getting yourself off a bit as Daryl brought himself closer to his climax with your throat. 

"Cum down her throat, she likes that," Rick chimed in. Daryl's pace increased until he finally flooded your mouth with his release. You swallowed every drop after he pulled out. With his thumb, he put the cum that spilled out of your mouth back in. You gladly accepted, sucking his thumb for good measure. 

"Good girl," he praised. Your cheeks warmed at his praise. You wanted to hear more. You wanted to hear him praise you as he was buried deep in your cunt, pounding into you ready to fill you with his seed. 

"Need you," you begged, staring up at him with pleading eyes. He glanced at his friend as if to ask for permission, but all he did was shrug dismissively, like he didn't even care. He didn't want to push the other man's boundaries, but he felt he owed it to himself for all the times he's pushed you away for fear of losing his job. And he felt himself getting hard again. He stood and pulled you up with him before turning you around. 

"Bend over," he ordered and you did, holding onto the porch's railing. He lifted his t-shirt you wore, revealing the little red thong you had on. He was beating himself up internally for turning you down for so long. He was tempted to just shove his face between your thighs and lick the arousal coating them and taste every bit of you. He yanked the thong down, letting it fall to your ankles. He stroked himself a few timed before lining his cock up with your sopping pussy. You were so wet, he slid inside with ease. His mouth fell open and his eyes rolled back. You squeezed him perfectly, your warm, plush walls welcoming him home. His hands gripped your hips almost to the point of leaving a bruise, but it all felt too good. He pulled all the way out before slamming back in earning wanton moan from you. He continued thrusting into you, his composure slipping with each thrust. His hands slid up the shirt feeling your body until he got to your breasts. He groped them as he fucked you. 

"You're fucking me so good, Daryl," you moaned as your felt the coil in your tummy tightening, a signal of your impending orgasm. Your legs shook as you gripped the railing even tighter.  

" 'M close," he grunted, his thrusts losing rhythm as he came close to his second orgasm. Your entire body was on fire, Daryl's hands on you felt new and exciting, every touch of his made your spine tingle. Every ending of your nerves was on fire as you came around his cock, squeezing him for everything he had left. 

"This pussy was made fer ma cock," he grunted. He came undone, painting your walls white with his seed. He continued to fuck you through both his and your orgasm. He pulled his now soft cock out of you, watching his cum slowly leak out of your swollen pussy and drip down your thighs. Daryl put himself back together before sitting back down and helping himself to another beer. After catching your breath, you turned to look at Rick, but be was already looking at you. You expected him to be upset that you were physically unable to resist fucking his colleague, his best friend, but instead his pupils were dilated and there was a prominent bulge in his pants. Watching his best friend fuck you definitely did something to him. 

"You get that outta your system?" he asked. He was still a little snappy, but you were grateful he wasn't as angry as before. 

"Yes, sir," you replied meekly. 

"Good. That should hold you over while I'm punishin' you." 

i have not once set foot in a bar, hopefully that wasnt obvious in my writing lmao. perhaps you noticed this wasn't proofread :p

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#the walking dead #smut #fanfic #twd smut #female reader #x reader #daryl dixon #fic rec #the walking dead smut #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon x reader smut #daryl dixon fanfiction #rick grimes smut #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x reader smut #rick grimes fanfiction #teacher x student #college #university #student