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lewisyellowhelmet · 5 months

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freefall (pt 2)

lewis hamilton x mercedes engineer!reader

read part 1 here !!

summary: You and Lewis have let this go on too far, and for too long. (You are an engineer for Mercedes on Lewis’ side of the garage).

content: 18+!!!! general m/f sex acts. coworker relationship. let me know if u want anything else flagged!

You wake cold. The hotel air conditioning has kicked on during the night, a familiar whir in the ceiling, and in your sleep you’ve pulled the covers up around your chin in an attempt to keep your body warmth in. It takes a few circulations of the room for you to find the off switch for the air-con.

After, you stand against the big window until your alarm goes off, warm breath making a condensation cloud against the glass. You’re in Baku. No. Budapest. Budapest. You’ve been in this hotel before, you’ve seen this view. You have to close your eyes when the surge of memories come. The sound of Lewis singing to himself in the shower. His warm arm over your belly while you slept. Leaning over graphs together to try and figure out how to be faster, how to be better. Your iPhone is ringing, vibrating, morning alarm. The room is still cold.

You get to the engineers room before Lewis does. It’s rained overnight, the track wet, the air brisk. Endless emails await you. The cars not right. Nothing is right. A headache is pulsing at your temples. Your coffee is cold before you remember to drink it. Others work around you. Recently, you’ve begun having this urge, strong and gripping, to stand up and be wild, to yell and scream. We were in love. We were in love and no one knew. I sacrificed that to give us another go at a championship and now you can’t even get the fucking car to work?

You have to close your eyes and practice box breathing until it passes. When you lift your head again, Lewis is moving around your desk to go into Toto’s office. He doesn’t look at you.

—

It has been a year. A hard year. You’d left the hotel room, left him, feeling on the verge of insanity. Lewis had let you go without much of a fight. It felt like his confession, his acceptance, had drained all his energy. Somewhere silent and hidden behind your heart, you wish he’d fought harder. Having to pretend nothing had happened in front of your co-workers was gut wrenching. Sleeping alone was worse. The break between seasons had helped, a forced separation, different cities, but now, in the thick of a new calendar, a new year, you were constantly turning corners and bumping into him. You couldn’t go back to the friendship you’d had before. And you couldn’t go forward into a new, adjusted working relationship. There was only a sense of coldness, of formality. No way forward, no way back. Only this compounding sense of dread, anticipating the next interaction.

Toto’s assistant sticks her head out of the office while you’re gazing unseeing at the screens in front of you, calling for you. Your bones feel stiff and unwilling as you unfold yourself, follow her into the small room. Lewis is sitting in front of the desk, one knee pulled up, gives you a polite smile upon your entrance. Toto is leaning back in his chair, fingers steepled, deep thinking. There are no chairs for you. You hover behind Lewis, and refuse to think about reaching out, touching the back of his neck, smoothing your fingers into his hair.

Generic meeting. A summary of free practice, and then qualifying from the day before. Plans for the day. Any new ideas? Any solutions? Your headache is getting stronger. No solutions.

Lewis holds the door open for you when the meeting is over, and you can smell him as you move past. Familiar cologne. He used to laugh when you buried his face in his neck, sniffed over-dramatically, pretending to be a curious dog. He’d wriggled from the sensation, your tickling mouth, pressing nose. Pretended he didn’t like it, but always made sure to wear your favourite smell everyday anyway.

You need paracetamol. Too late you realise he’s following you to hospitality, where the first aid kit is stored. He is a step behind, lagging, despite easily being able to match your pace. You feel the gap keenly, an open wound.

—

The over-ear headphones drown out the noise of the garage. This, at least, you can do. Go through the motions of race day, a familiar rhythm. Positioned on your stool in front of your screens, the microphone against your mouth, the final, tenuous connection between you and Lewis. A direct line between you and him. You go through the regular checks together, safety, engine, ensuring the connection is clear. The cars roar. The adrenaline pounds.

“Ready?” You ask.

“Ready.”

You chew on the inside of your mouth so you don’t say, be safe, be careful. The lights flash down. The engines rev. The job begins.

—

The air conditioning is on again in the hotel room. They’ve been in to change the sheets, the towels, vacuumed. You feel stupid with fatigue, with loneliness, with missing him. The after-race meetings had dragged. Lewis was tired. The atmosphere was tense. You want to sleep for ten years, but there is a plane to catch first thing tomorrow morning. There are spirits in the mini-fridge, ice clear and beckoning. You drink two in the shower, and another in front of BBC World News on the television. Are you dreaming? Is this real life? The gin gives everything a foggy haze. Your steps are unsteady. You sit in bed and scroll through yours and Lewis’ text threads. Room numbers. Memes. Inside jokes texted under the table during long meetings. You manage to convince yourself its a mistake when you tap through to his contact number, watch it dial, ring through. Listen to the connecting sound, hear him say, “hello?” before you realise what’s happened, what you’ve done, what rule you’ve broken. You hang up. Hot panic. The newsreader is talking about weather. Lewis is calling back, already, and you watch it ring out. You feel frozen by horror. The room is so cold, and the fridge is worse as you reach in, tiny bottles clinking together. Vodka this time. Forget, forget, forget.

There’s someone knocking on the door. You manage to get yourself into a hotel issued robe, pull it tight, before you get into the small hallway, fumble with the handle, get the door open. You swear, and Lewis has to reach out to stop you closing the door again.

“Are you alright?” He asks.

“Yes,” you insist.

“You called me.”

“Did I? It must have been a mistake.”

Your voice sounds fake, even to you, the laugh reedy and broken.

“Are you drunk?” Lewis asks.

“No,” you lie.

He drops his arm from where it was holding open the door. He’s wearing pyjama pants and a worn grey hoodie. One you used to wear to go make the coffee in the morning. You can tell from the softness of his expression he’s been recently asleep. You should shut the door now. Block him out again. Go to bed. Instead, you feel yourself start to cry, building in your chest, the tightness in your throat, burning in your eyes.

“Babe,” he says, so sad, so concerned, and the sob you emit is embarrassing and loud. You have to let go of the door to cover your face, feeling your back curve over. Lewis is gentle about coming inside, guiding you to the bed, tucking you in. He brings you a glass of water, makes you have three big sips. You’re still crying, childlike, red faced and snotty. He passes you tissues, strokes your hair.

“I’m sorry,” you start to say, even as he shushes you, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he murmurs, “Everything’s okay.”

You feel as if the world is ending. Crying like this in front of him. Drunk and messy. And the room is so fucking cold.

“Can you,” you stumble, wriggling over in the bed, throwing open the covers, “I’m really cold.”

He says your name the way he used to say it, warm and intimate, a nickname. Like a lover. Like a partner.

“Are you sure?” He asks, even as you’re reaching out for him, dragging him in.

“Please,” you say, “I’m cold.”

He tastes salty when you kiss him, your own tears on his mouth. He makes a wounded sound, but then he’s wrapping his arms around you, pulling you to his chest, his leg over yours. You feel held, sheltered. He lets you kiss him again, deeper, better.

“I’m sorry,” you say again, when you need to breathe, and he’s smiling, warm eyes, smoothing you hair off your face.

“It’s okay,” he repeats, “Whatever you need.”

Your hands are fists in his hoodie, “I need you.”

“How do you need me?”

“Like this,” you whisper, lips brushing his, taking his hand to slip into your robe, over your breast. He sighs out a breath as his fingers touch your nipple, swipe over it again so you make a small, wanting noise.

It feels dreamlike, a long awaited thing. A rush, almost, to get out of your robe, Lewis out of his own clothes so you can sling a leg over his waist, face hidden in the crook of his neck as he pushes into you, his big hand tangled in your hair, holding you to him. Rasping breaths, the sudden heat of two bodies working together, the length of him inside you, pushing deep. It feels instinctual, animalistic, breathing him in, trying to remember everything, compartmentalise every second, every touch, every groan. Lewis rolls you onto your back, but stays close, his mouth finding yours, sharing breath as he grinds into you. You come quickly, nothing controlled, grasping at him and panting, shaking through it. Lewis holds himself there, lets you shudder and cry out, pulsing around him. His eyes are dark and liquid, but he keeps watching you, like he’s trying to remember as well, be present for everything. You don’t want this to ever end. When you can breathe again, he returns to his rythym, steady knocks of his hips into yours, the rush of his breath, of his body. His face drops into your neck when he finishes, hands gripping you like he will never let go again. You feel new, hot tears leak down your face as you hold him.

—

You wake warm, this time. You’re curled around yourself, a child, with Lewis aligned to your back, his face against your spine, his arm over you, protecting you. You’re facing the window, curtains left open, blinking at an apartment building, holding hundreds of different lives, different bedrooms, different people. Lewis is still asleep, you can tell from the steadiness of his breath, the sleep-weight of his body over yours. You place your hand over his, interlinking knuckles. The more you wake up, the more you feel embarrassed, shame curdling in your belly. He’s done this out of pity. How gross, to call him, drunk, drag him into bed with you, to beg. You feel overheated, suddenly, untangle yourself from him, slip out of the covers and into the bathroom, pulling the sliding door to encase yourself in the marble and glass. Your eyes are swollen from crying. You mouth is bruised pink from him. There are fingertip bruises on your waist from where he’s held you. You have to sit on the lip of the built in tub so you don’t throw up, or start crying again. You haven’t washed your hair in a few days, and it hangs limp around your fingers, head in your hands, again. Hiding. Wanting to disappear. Your hangover makes you tremble. You’ve failed. You failed years ago, when you looped your arms around his neck and kissed him for the first time. You failed again when you turned your back on him. And now, to be so weak, to force him to do this again, to look after you.

The bathroom door slides open. Lewis is in your robe, tight around his shoulders. You try to smile at him, but even without seeing you know it’s more of a grimace.

“I don’t know what to say,” you tell him, raking your hands through your hair, “I’m just so, so sorry.”

“You said that a lot last night.”

Lewis doesn’t move any further into the room. Stays in the doorway. Watches. Witnesses.

“I can’t believe I. I’m so embarrassed.”

He shakes his head, “Don’t be.”

“Lewis,” you’re speechless. What is there to say? How to apologise? To take back?

“Look,” he spreads his hands, surrender, “We don’t have to talk about it. It never happened.”

“Never happened,” you echo. Vomit threatens. Never happened.

“If that’s what you want,” Lewis says.

You’re nodding, looking down at your bare feet on the tiles, “Yeah, that sounds good.”

The silence makes you want to scream. Just to break it. You can hear your heartbeat in your head. A constant pound. You stay there, on the edge of the bathtub, while he gets dressed. He doesn’t look in on his way out. The door shuts with a finality.

—

You fly to Oxford. He flies to Monaco. You don’t speak.

—

It happens in the middle of the night. The off season. When you check your phone for the first time the next morning, waiting for the kettle to boil, you have so many missed calls your phone has stopped counting them. The photos are blurry, but it’s obvious if you know what you’re looking for. Through a small window in the door of your office. In the first one, you’re just laughing together, the second you are reaching for his hand, the final one you are in his lap, your mouth hidden by his, Lewis’ big hands in your hair. You’re still staring at them when he calls. He does’t say anything when you pick you. You just breathe, together, for a long moment.

“So it happened,” you finally say.

“It happened,” he agrees.

“I haven’t spoken to anyone else yet. I just woke up,” you say.

“Don’t,” he says, “I’m going to fly in this afternoon. We’ll have a meeting with the publicists. Toto wants HR there, as well.”

“Fuck.”

You hesitate, and then, “Was Toto mad?”

“He wasn’t happy. He reckons Susie knew and didn’t tell him.”

“Where did the photos come from?”

“Ex-employee, they think. Was waiting for the right time.”

“And now is the right time?” You can hear the edge of hysteria in your voice.

“I’m really sorry,” Lewis says.

“It’s not your fault.”

“I’m still sorry.”

You need to boil the kettle again, tea forgotten. You realise you're gripping the kitchen bench so hard your knuckles have gone white. You let go. You look out over the garden, crisp with morning frost. Christmas soon. You’ll have to explain to your family.

“Did Toto say anything about my job?” You ask, feeling sick at the thought.

“No. I said if he fired you, I would quit.”

“Don’t be stupid.”

“I’m not.”

There’s quiet again. You flick the kettle on.

“I think it’s good if we come in together. We can plan what we want to say. I can pick you up from your house,” he says.

“Alright.”

“Don’t answer any numbers you don’t know, okay? Media might call.”

“Really? I was just gonna pick up strange numbers all day,” you say, a bite in your tone. Lewis laughs though, an amused huff.

“You’re right, sorry. I’m control-freaking.”

You hum an agreement.

"I’ll see you soon, then,” he says.

You suddenly have a fierce urge not to let him end the call, to let his voice anchor you.

“Alright,” you say, and hang up first.

—

The meeting is awful, of course. People are panicking. Toto scolds. You go silent. Lewis rages. In the end, the core group sits silent around a meeting table. The most promising solution is to paint it as star-crossed lovers, meant to be, soulmates. Refusing to be kept apart by jobs and contracts. This would be perfect, perhaps, if you were still together.

“Could you pretend? Until it died down,” Toto had said.

“No,” you’d snapped, speaking over Lewis’, “It depends what she wants.”

Now, the silence is stale, nothing left to say, but no agreement reached. Your eyes prick with fatigue.

—

Lewis drives you home. When he pulls into the driveway, you’re too tired to get out of the car. There is a light on inside. Your mum must be here, checking in on you. Has heard somehow, which must mean it's on the internet.

“How are you feeling?” Lewis asks, when you make no move to open the door.

“Tired,” you say, “You?”

“Sad.”

It’s unconscious, reaching to to touch his leg, an urge to comfort. He sighs. The muscle of him is warm through his jeans.

“If this had happened a year ago,” he starts, and stops, shaking his head, “Doesn’t matter.”

“If it happened a year ago, what?” You say. He shrugs.

“Everything might have turned out okay.”

You turn your face from him, look out the window into the dark street. It makes your heart throb painfully to see him. You can’t speak through a thick, swollen throat.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say it,” you finally manage to whisper. Your hand is still on his thigh.

“Didn’t say what?"

You close your eyes, lean to rest your forehead on the car window with a thunk.

“Didn’t say that I loved you back.”

“Did you?”

You laugh, exhausted from carrying it for so long, “Lewis. Of course. Of course I do. So much.”

“You do?”

Your eyes fly open, realising your mistake. You snatch your hand from his leg, turn to face him, “I did. I did then.”

“You don’t love me anymore,” he clarifies. He’s frowning, forehead creased. The night is pressing in on the car, dark and claustrophobic. You can’t speak.

“Because nothing has changed for me. I feel the same as I did then,” Lewis says, and you can see how he’s working to speak, jaw twitching, forcing the words out. Something private, and hidden, being pushed into the open. You’re pressing your hands together in your lap, painfully tight.

“Alright,” you say, hate yourself for it. He looks away. His eyes are gleaming.

“Alright.”

You get out of the car. Stiff and awkward. You get your key in the front door, hear him turn the engine back on. Fear is clawing at your chest. You turn around anyway, back down the steps, jump in front of the car so he has to slam on the breaks, a screech breaking the night air. He’s opening the drivers door at the same time you’re trying to open it, get to him. He’s half out of the car and you’re half in when you kiss him, cold air, warm mouths. He’s grasping your head, holding you steady.

"I’m sorry,” you’re panting, “I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologising,” Lewis says, “What’s done is done.”

You keep kissing him, his face, his nose, his jaw.

“I love you,” you press into his skin, you kiss into his mouth, “I love you.”

Lewis is pulling you into his lap, back into the car, pulling the door shut again, crammed in. Your hands under his shirt, feeling his skin, feeling him breathe.

“Do you?” He asks, holding your face in front of him. You feel your face hurt with how wide you are grinning, a release of something held inside for so long. Your hands mirror his on his face, precious in your fingers.

“I do. I do. I love you.”

Lewis half laughs, half sobs. His eyes are shining. The car horn beeps from a stray elbow. You keep kissing him anyway.

#lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton smut #f1 smut #f1 imagine #*

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cheollipop · 9 months

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calico

navi | taglist

pairing: ex!yoon jeonghan x bartender!reader

w.c.: 3.1k

tags: fem!reader, smut, angst, past infidelity/cheating, this is really toxic.... hate sex though....

the heartache from a past game of cat and dog—leaving you with nothing but a stained bed and a broken heart—came back tenfold when freshly-chopped hair and a sly smirk greeted you through the cracked-open, tinted window.

warnings: car sex, so semi-public sex, hate sex, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex (👎), creampie, some cockwarming, degradation (mentions of past cheating, both reader and jeonghan refer to the other as "slut"), reader is also called a cockslut at one point, hair pulling, pussy slapping, nicknames (hannie; darling), jeonghan is really toxic (and a big asshole), past infidelity, seungcheol is mentioned a few times *wink wonk*

A/N: this is for the anon who requested jeonghan ages ago. I might be 5 years late to writing it, but it's here hehe~ I'm so glad I finally got to write more for svt! this was really fun to write~ please consider leaving feedback/reblogging if you enjoyed! ^^ happy reading~~

nsfw under the cut—minors dni 🔞

Frosty air cooled the sweat sticking to your exposed skin, heeled boots clacking over the pavement as you stumbled out of the creaky, metal door at the back of the club. You were way too sober, you thought, eyebrow twitching at the memory of your fight with the new manager. ‘No alcohol after you clock in,’ the high-pitched sound repeated in your ears. You worked just fine with a shot or two in your system; you’d argue you worked even better, able to drown out the slurred pick-up lines and simply pour drinks. Friday nights were the worst, and having to deal with clingy men who didn’t understand rejection—most of which not even your type—without alcohol had you considering a career change. So the second the clock hit eleven, you hurriedly wiped your station before another batch of college freshmen crowded the bar, grabbing your stuff and scrambling out the back exit.

Your legs carried you out of the small alleyway and onto the lit main sidewalk, thankful that the council finally replaced the flickering light bulb. Your eyes zeroed in on the bus stop down the road, and you quickly made your way towards it before the last bus could arrive.

A sudden horn blared to your right, cutting through the stillness and sounding over the distant music from the club behind you. Your fingers dug into your pocket on instinct to circle around the tube of pepper spray, your body tensing defensively as you faced the Jeep parked in front of you. The driver’s tinted window rolled down, a head of short, brown locks peeking through the gap. Your hand eased around the spray when you met with familiar, downturned eyes, hooded with what seemed like amusement. A shot of pain seared through your chest, your heart pounding against your ribcage as Jeonghan stared back at you blankly, a simple “hey” reverberating in the air between you.

“No bitches to cheat on tonight?” You spat, tightening your fingers around the jacket in your hand.

Why was he here? After you’d finally stopped looking for him in every corner, hoping he’d pull you out from behind the bar to give you a tearful apology? After the scent of his misdeeds had faded off your bedsheets, your slumber no longer interrupted by dreams about your heart being used as a plaything?

Jeonghan's eyebrow twitched, his amusement blending with irritation. “Seungcheol’s taken now, whose cock would they jump on if I did?”

Resentment seeped into your chest, and you considered pepper spraying him just to erase that smug smirk off his face. But you turned away from him, sucking in the cool air while scheming eyes bore into your profile. You willed your legs into motion, your footsteps sounding to the beat of the muffled club music as you continued your journey down to the bus stop. A car door slammed somewhere behind you, and you picked at the side of your index finger while you walked, hoping it was just a clubber who’d been running late. A firm hand wrapped around your upper arm and twisted you around, striking out the previous possibility when Jeonghan’s hot breath brushed against your face.

“Let me drive you home,” he mumbled, his hand relaxing around your arm but not quite releasing it.

You couldn’t help but pity him in this moment. A man who’d broken your heart and left you to mend it alone, curled up on your bedroom floor while he stuffed his belongings into a worn-down duffle, not even an apology or a goodbye, only the loud clang of his spare key landing on your console before the front door slammed shut. That same man, two years later, parked in front of your workplace—for God knows how many hours—only to drive you home? A part of you was curious why that was. The other, though, wanted to get the fuck away from him.

“Why? So I can hear more about how not sorry you are? No thanks,” you tugged against his grasp, now tight around your arm again.

“(Y/n), please. I won’t say anything, I just wanna drive you home,” the subtle hint of desperation in his voice alarmed you. It didn’t make sense, and yet the unanswered question overshadowed your confusion. The anger that had been simmering in your gut was beginning to boil.

“So you actually don’t feel guilty?” You didn’t mean for your voice to crack, and yet the ache in your chest nearly made you double over the further his silence stretched—the same one that had robbed you of sleep, kept you away from all potential love interests, had you curled up in the same sheets the reeked of adultery and betrayal while Jeonghan continued to jump from woman to woman, a trail of his sins dragging behind his indifferent figure. “Let me go, Jeonghan,” your tone was weak, defeated, once again faced with agonizing reality—he’d moved on long before that day.

You missed the way his eyelids fluttered at the delicate roll of his name off your tongue, the sound sparking a memory into the front of his mind, a collage of smiles and easy laughter echoing in his ears. His hand raised to grab onto your other arm, possessiveness laced with concern slowly overtaking him at the sight of you—shoulders slumped, eyes glassy and your fingers shaking where they curled into fists at your sides, the mere mention of his indifference reducing you to the same, hurt woman he's left behind.

“It’s late. Let me just-” He paused. Jeonghan never paused, not even when you stood at your doorway, looking him in the eye while he soiled your bedsheets with someone else. “I just want to make sure you get home safe.”

You blamed it on the quiver in your legs, the loss of willpower to move yourself away from him, but this time, you didn’t argue.

‘I thought you would be okay,

You thought I would be the same,’

Dpr Ian played through the speakers, the volume on low despite the silence stretching between you and the man in the driver’s seat. You realized you hadn’t needed to give him directions, a relationship of three years enough to engrave the way to your apartment into his mind forever. Your eyes flitted over to the side every now and then, taking in the shadows cast over Jeonghan’s cheekbones with every passing streetlight, his fringe fanning over his forehead in a way unfamiliar to you. Looking back to the front, you decided you preferred his longer hair, and missed the innocent glimmer in his dark eyes. Though despite all the changes—new car, new hair, new attitude and style—Jeonghan still used the same perfume, one that you’d bought him for the first birthday you’d celebrated together. Something in your gut stirred at the thought, but you were unsure whether it was pleasant or not.

‘it’s just another show,

Don’t want your world no more,’

Jeonghan cleared his throat, “I got promoted to manager,” he spoke, breaking the silence.

“Good for you,” your tone was cold, uninterested.

“Yeah.”

Dpr Ian continued to play, ‘You’re so addicted to my bad decisions.’

“How’s bartending been?”

“It’s okay.”

He hummed, fingers tightening around the steering wheel as he took a right turn. “Mm, I worry about you sometimes. People can act crazy when drunk.”

Your eyebrow twitched, irritation creeping into your tone, “you don’t get to be worried about me.” You felt the urge to slam your fist into his unnecessarily sharp jaw, to watch bruises paint his face until the rage embedded so deep within your soul dissipated.

A few seconds of silence passed as Jeonghan parked parallel to the empty sidewalk in front of your apartment building, sighing while turning off the engine and twisting in his seat to face you. “You know, I’m just trying to be nice here.”

Your fists clenched, mirroring Jeonghan and turning around to look at him with hooded eyes, your muscles clenching and relaxing in an attempt to calm yourself down. “Well, maybe you should’ve thought to do that before you fucked a random girl in my bed,” you spat, content to have watched his face fall before turning your back to him and reaching for the door handle.

A hand flew over your shoulder before your fingers could reach their target, his index and thumb grabbing your jaw and forcefully forcing you back into your prior position. “And you thought sleeping with my best friend was a good way to handle it?” He pulled you closer to him, your lower belly digging into the console as he bent you over it, his face mere inches away and his breath blowing warm over your cheeks.

“You don’t get to blame me-”

He was quick to interrupt your defense, “you think I didn’t notice you acting like a slut to get his attention? Way before anything even happened,” his grip on your face tightened, inching his own closer as he spoke, each word falling off his tongue making the knot in your stomach wind tighter. “The looks,” something in his eyes glimmered, and while that once made butterflies flutter in your stomach, it now grew the lump in your throat until it restricted your airway. “The touches,” his breath fanned over your face, small beads of sweat pilling over your skin at the humidity, and perhaps at the rasp in Jeonghan’s voice as he laid out your sins before you. “The pictures.”

Your fingers gripped the console, slipping off with streaks of sweat staining the black leather. Heart pounding in your ears, you hoped Jeonghan’s hearing somehow declined during the years you’d spent apart, the ringing in your ears fogging up all thoughts. You blamed the nerves on his accusations—a dark past you thought you’d buried without trace—and yet the proximity, the lack of space between your face and Jeonghan’s, the mint lacing his breath and the rasp in every word he spoke, you found hidden tinges of arousal mixed in with your anxiety, dousing your panties as you tried to escape the man’s grasp.

“Why are you here, Jeonghan?” Your voice wavered, but this time, you didn’t miss the wave of what seemed like relief painting his face when his name rolled off your tongue.

“Would you believe me if I said I missed you?”

The ache in your chest returned, your eyebrows furling until you appeared wounded by his words. “Not for a second,” your voice remained firm, though, sparing him no glimpse at your heart.

Jeonghan only scoffed, amused by the contrast between your tone and expression. He leaned closer—as though your indifference urged him to prove himself to you—pressing his lips the corner of your mouth, whispering his next words against the soft skin, “you’re not entirely wrong… but I did miss one thing.”

‘I thought you would be okay,

You thought I would be the same.’

Your lower back dug into the steering wheel, the leather beneath your knees creaking as you adjusted your position over Jeonghan, your pants shamefully thrown over the passenger seat. Teeth clacked against each other, heavy breaths mingling between your open mouths as your tongues pressed together in a battle of lust.

Two fingers spread you open, curling between your sopping walls until your eyes rolled back, his other hand holding up the window switch, waiting until the darkened glass closed fully before moving it to your hip.

Squeezing the supple flesh, Jeonghan groaned into your parted lips, “still so fucking tight, did Seungcheol not fuck you well enough?”

Heat flared up your chest, “shut up.”

You’d thought two years and countless hookups would’ve blurred Jeonghan's memory of you, but his fingers fucked into you with purpose, as though every inch of your body, every motion that drove pleasure up your spine had become second nature to him.

“I bet he didn’t know how to satisfy my pretty slut,” he pressed his lips to your cheek, using the hand on your hip to guide you over his fingers.

“Sh-shut up-”

He slipped out of you, gliding his digits down your cunt and over your clit before landing a harsh slap over the nub, your body jolting over him and a broken cry sounding in the humid car. The wet clap of his hand on your drenched pussy repeated, and you mumbled incoherently through a breathy moan.

“What was that? Speak up for me, darling,” you could hear the smirk in his voice.

The urge to punch the playfulness off his face dissipated when skilled fingers brushed over your clit, “fuck, again-”

And he conceded, bringing his hand down on your pussy once more to watch your back arch into the steering wheel behind you, lips parting as pain mingled with pleasure, your cunt throbbing under Jeonghan’s palm. That same hand swiftly moved to your face, fingers digging into your jaw and smearing your arousal over your skin while his other worked over his zipper, quickly undoing his pants and pushing them down far enough to take his cock out. It leaked precum over his black button-up, the vein lining the underside throbbing at the sight of you above him—eyes glazed over and fixed on his hard length, your tongue digging into the inside of your cheek.

His fingers tapped against your clit, once, twice, before landing another rough slap over it. He grabbed himself around the base, groaning at the sudden contact as he positioned you over the leaking cockhead, “be a good girl for once and- fuck-”

You cut him off before he could finish his sentence, sliding down his length unprompted until his cock was sheathed entirely between your fluttering walls. You rolled your hips to adjust, forcing your chests flush as you moved and pressing your lips to the shell of Jeonghan’s ear.

“You talk as if you’ve done nothing wrong, but you’re just as much of a slut as I am, aren’t you, Hannie?” Trailing feathery kisses over his jaw, you slipped his cock halfway out of your cunt before sliding him back inside, squeezing your walls around him to feel the stuttered rise and fall of his chest against you. “You fucked me that morning, then brought that bitch into my bed a couple hours after,” you pecked the sharp edge of his jawline, moving your lips back to his ear to whisper your next words, “didn’t even have the decency to take her to your apartment-”

Rough fingers tangled in the hair at your nape, tugging your face back until you met with unfocused eyes. Jeonghan readjusted under you, digging his feet into the clean mats and thrusting upwards experimentally, scoffing at the moan you tried to suppress. Your neck craned uncomfortably, gritting your teeth as Jeonghan eyed you silently, a hand on your hip keeping you still and leaving you helpless to do anything but warm his cock.

So you commenced your taunts, desperately trying to wiggle out of his grasp while you spoke, “how many hours have you been waiting outside, huh? Just to get your dick wet-”

“I have you on my cock now, don’t I?” His fingers tightened around your hair, and he leaned back in his seat, fucking up into your clenching cunt before you could think of anything to say—assuming you were still capable of processing anything but the smooth drag of his length between your pulsing walls, his nails digging thin crescents into the flesh of your hip. His breathing grew heavy, and yet his words remained clear, contemptuous. “You may hate me, darling, but whether you like it or not, you’ll keep coming back to me,” the hand in your hair eased, fingers scratching soothingly at your sore scalp and pushing your head closer to his, bringing his voice down to a whisper, “because you’re my pretty cockslut, aren’t you?”

Jeonghan nuzzled his nose into your cheek, planting a tender kiss to the heated skin while you frantically nodded your head. A staccato of moans and repetitions of his name rolled off your tongue as he brought you down to meet his relentless thrusts, his own grunts adding to the stuffiness in the closed-up car. He pounded into your dripping cunt, taking in the jolts of pleasure shaking your body every time he drove his cockhead into your g-spot, your moans growing needier the closer he pushed you towards the edge.

With one final slap to your throbbing pussy, your vision darkened and your body curled in on itself. Jeonghan’s fingers rubbed quick circles over your swollen nub, watching you writhe on top of him as waves of pleasure seared through you, your moans high-pitched and desperate as he guided you through your orgasm with unrelenting fingers, spark after spark of simmering heat blinding you to everything but Jeonghan.

He felt his own high approaching at the tight squeeze of your walls around him, his thrusts slowing down when you tumbled over the edge, but returning to their frenzied pace to chase his orgasm. Your fingers closed over his upper arms, tinges of overstimulation blending with the ecstasy of his cock slamming into your used cunt.

“Fuck- where do you want me, darling?” He rolled his head back over the headrest, eyes lidded with burning arousal and his thighs beginning to cramp up at the pace he was going at.

“Inside, Hannie, hnngh! Please, inside,” you said, words slurred and interrupted by a harmony of moans, disregarding the soreness between your legs while you begged Jeonghan to come inside you.

He laughed at the desperation, the sweet noise—airy, gravelly with the lust clouding his every sense—was cut short, interrupted by a throaty grunt as he emptied inside you, hot ropes of cum pulsing out of him to paint your walls. Cupping your ass with both hands, he sunk his fingers into the flesh and guided you over his cock in slow rolls of your hips, breathing in the air the other exhaled, eyes locked as the last spurt of cum warmed your insides.

You weren’t sure when it happened, but now, with your head resting on Jeonghan’s chest, his steady heartbeat echoing in your ears and cum slowly dribbling out of you while his cock remained sheathed deep inside, you realized you’d let your walls down for the man who’d caused them to go up, sinking into the pleasure he so generously poured into you. The walls you’d been holding up for two years, the pain he’d left you with sparking fear in your heart every time someone tried to get closer. And yet, the same man who’d planted that fear inside you somehow breached past the infrastructure you’d spent so long strengthening.

While you laid there in the faux sense of security Jeonghan so easily provided, you realized he was right: you will always find your way back to him.

reblogs/feedback are greatly appreciated!! ^^ apply for my tag list here (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

#yoon jeonghan smut #yoon jeonghan x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen smut #seventeen angst #yoon jeonghan angst #jeonghan smut #jeonghan x reader #seventeen x you #seventeen fanfic #yoon jeonghan fanfic #yoon jeonghan scenarios #yoon jeonghan imagines

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queenimmadolla · 11 months

Note

For the blurb thing

Eddie

Bath

Fluff

𝐝𝐚𝐝!𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞, 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐲 '𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 ─ because i don't want to keep track of a bunch of different dad!eddies

“This is fucking gross.”

“Well, you smell gross. So.”

Eddie huffed, brows furrowed in irritation as he leaned his back against the shower tile. The baby in his arms slapped her palms furiously against the red mixture of water and tomato juice filling your small tub, the splashback splattering across Eddie’s face.

He looked ridiculous. You’d already taken the pictures.

The trailer was lucky enough to be equipped with a small…tub of sorts. Really, it seemed to be only suitable for children, no grown adult could bath comfortably in one of these.

Yet, here Eddie found himself, folded up in it with his knees poking out, no leg room, no back room–his ‘lean’ put him at a 92 degree angle, if he was lucky– holding a one year old, who had most definitely already peed in the mixture.

So, now he was sitting in tomato juice, water and piss.

Eddie was not happy.

“There we go,” You sang, as you poured the last can, tapping the bottom of it for good measure.

“Is that necessary?” He snapped.

You took no offense, eyes wary as you eyed him from top to knee before locking eyes again, “You need every drop.”

Then you pinched your nose and Eddie rolled his eyes.

What had been a promising start to family day at the park–picnic basket, copy of a new book you’d picked out at the bookstore in town with a couple of penny’s favorite blocks to beat into the ground, in hand–quickly turned disastrous when Eddie had taken Penny over to a tree she’d been pointing towards and babbling at while you set up the blanket, and the two of them had promptly been sprayed by a skunk hiding behind the tree trunk.

You’d heard a lot of screaming and squealing. Penny even yelled out once.

The car ride back was agony, having the front windows rolled down and the back ones propped open didn’t help, you’d had to stick your head out the window, uncaring about other people in passing cars. If being compared to a dog meant you didn’t have to smell your husband and baby, you’d bark.

Eddie had to stand outside the trailer holding Penny while you rummaged around for a Wellness magazine you’d seen the measurements for a tomato juice bath in once. When you appeared in the doorway, magazine clutched in your hands and held in the air victoriously, Eddie and Penny got to go inside while you took your car–and not his stinky van–to the market to pick up some tomato juice.

Eddie hadn’t been willing to sit in it. If it weren’t for Penny, you would have had to chase him around the trailer but you'd been able to gaslight him into thinking Penny wouldn’t like this particular bath since it wasn’t just water. A low blow since you knew how distressed he got when she cried.

So he’d gotten in. And Penny was having the freaking time of her young life.

“Do you like your bath, baby?” You cooed, leaning forward as she beamed up at you, toothless mouth open wide with her smile and those big brown eyes of hers sparkling. All because it was you talking to her, she loved you so much, “Yeah, awww, such a good stinky girl, huh?”

Penny squealed in agreement, hands slapping down against the water again, making Eddie flinch. Then she wiggled, chubby arms reaching out to you, asking you to pick her up and hold her but you quickly ran out of the breath you were holding so you yanked yourself back for a breather. The car ride might have got you a little familiar with their scent but you weren’t nose blind.

Eddie took offense, “How long do we have to sit in this?”

“Until you don’t stink.” You scooped some of the mixture up in a plastic cup and poured it over his head, trying not to laugh at the frenzied look on his face.

Penny didn’t hide it, she laughed openly, turning so she could be sure to make eye contact with her daddy. She got the same hair treatment, but she was used to having her hair washed this way, she loved it.

“And exactly how long is that, dearest?” That had been the closest he’d been to calling you a bitch.

“Uhm,” You gave Penny the cup to play with while you wiped your hand off and picked up the magazine resting on the small sink counter. It had been open, you scanned past the measurements until you reached the set time, “twenty minutes.”

Eddie was about to launch into complaints when he noticed your slight frown and the furrow in your brows.

“Huh.” Is all you said, head cocking to the side

“What?”

You were silent for a moment, reading the sentence over again in your head before you read aloud, “Does not eliminate or neutralize odor.”

“WHAT!?”

“I know right? Why would they provide the measurements for the tomato juice and water ratio if it doesn’t even work? Is this an amateur? Some sucker is walking around, thousands of dollars in debt with a degree in journalism, only to write about myt–”

“GET ME OUT!”

#last of the baby blurbs from the first round are gonna start going out #vivi's baby blurbs #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #pennyverse #dad!eddie #girl dad!eddie munson #dad!eddie munson x reader #dad!eddie munson x mom!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader fluff #stranger things #eddie munson blurb

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transvampireboyfriend · 8 months

Text

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6 - part 7 - part 8

Steve and Jonathan go setup the cabin before they start unpacking.

Steve opens the windows, takes off the couch covers and dusts off the coffee tables while Jonathan takes care of toiletries and then they get the bed sets and start making the two bunks and the big bed in the main room.

Steve has mostly shaken off his freak out about Eddie saying all that stuff about him and Steve reacting by practically shoving his fingers in his mouth.

Robin helped. She always does.

She's been telling him to make a move on Eddie for months, but Steve keeps overthinking it.

He likes Eddie so much, it just feels impossible Eddie could like him that way too.

So, whenever Eddie says something like what he said in the car, Steve's head cannot compute it.

It doesn't make sense. Steve came out to them all ages ago. If Eddie thought of him like that, surely he'd have made a move by now, right?

He's the loudest, most unashamed person Steve has ever met, he's so unapologetically himself, he sticks by the stuff he likes no matter what, of course he would've made a move.

But he hasn't. And so he doesn't, Eddie doesn't like Steve like that. He's just nice.

He's so nice.

Of course he's not gonna make a big deal of what Steve did in the car. Steve's still a little embarrassed but he knows Eddie would never give him a hard time over something so silly.

Robin reminded him of that too, as soon as they got out of the car and Steve made mortified eyes at Eddie's back as he watched him go stand by the lake.

"You're kinda drowning in a glass of water there, man," Robin said, ruffling his hair.

Steve laughed, escaping her hand and glaring at her.

"I bet he didn't even think twice of it!" she offered, then when he didn't look convinced, she added "He said a bunch of stuff about you, did you think it was weird?"

Steve shook his head "Of course not. it doesn't have to mean anything"

"Exactly." Robin agreed then, rubbing his back. Steve sighed, leaning his head on her shoulder.

So, Steve is mostly over it now. Robin is right.

But, that doesn't stop Steve from stealing glances at the grill through the bedroom windows, where Eds and Nance are making hot dogs, as him and Jonathan make the beds.

Jon must notice, because when they switch to the second bunk, he comments "You know, you can let him down easy. it doesn't have to be a big deal"

Steve immediately drags his eyes away from Eddie and looks at Jonathan.

"What?" he asks,

"Eddie" Jonathan presses, Steve stammers,

"Wh-?"

"Oh come on, he obviously has a crush on you, man." Jon says, "And it's fine if you don't feel the same you know? you can talk to him as your friend, he's a cool dude- I don't think he'd be-"

Steve finally finds his words and interrupts Jonathan.

"Wait, no. Back up. Eddie doesn't have a crush on me." Steve states.

Jonathan scoffs but when he looks at Steve's face his half smile fades,

"Are you serious?" he asks,

Steve looks around them like his answer is written on the walls.

"Didn't you hear what he said in the car?" Jonathan demands "I thought that was the whole reason you were freaking out!"

"I'm not- I'm not freaking out." Steve excuses "And he doesn't have crush on me, if he did he would have made a move by now" he explains.

Jonathan gapes at him for a bit before he answers.

"Okay, one: you have not stopped looking at him since we got out of the car;" Jon notes, "And two: you flirt with all of us except him, you shut him down when he gives you a compliment and you always refuse to dance with him when we go out. Why would he make a move?"

Steve feels his eyes go wide and his stomach drop.

"Shit. Do I?" he asks "No, I don't flirt with you guys" he adds,

Jonathan snorts and gives him a non-plussed look.

Fuck. Okay maybe he does, it's a past-time of his, sue him.

"I-" Steve scrambles "How do I shut down his compliments? I don't do that" he tries,

"You cough and redirect or you laugh and deflect," Jonathan supplies, apparently had those at the ready, damn.

"I didn't do that in the car" Steve counters,

"Robin changed the topic. And you two share a brain" Jonathan states,

Steve covers his eyes with a hand. He hoped it hadn't been that obvious.

"Ohmygod. Fuck. And I do refuse to dance with him" Steve remembers, he's afraid Eddie will figure him out if that ever happens,

"Uh huh, but you dance with us," Jonathan reminds him,

So Eddie had made a move. Several, if Jon's to be believed.

"Fuck. Fuck. Eddie thinks I don't like him," Steve realizes, "Eddie might be attracted to me and he thinks I don't like him at all" Steve despairs,

"I mean," Jonathan placates, "you do spend a lot of time together, I'm sure he knows you like him"

With this realization, at the sight of the tiniest possibility, Steve feels his despair dissolve every excuse he's ever had to hide his feelings.

"No," Steve explains, dragging his hand down his face "No, he thinks I don't like him like that. He doesn't know I'm attracted to him!"

"Wait. You are?"

"Yeah!" Steve confirms, "It's the reason I freak out around him! I can't trust I won't throw myself at him if we dance and I'm always embarrassed of my reactions to him flirting or complimenting me cause I don't want him to find out. I don't wanna ruin our friendship" Steve explains

"Oh." is Jon's helpful reaction.

"Yeah, oh." Steve says,

"How are you so sure he has a crush on me?" he asks Jonathan after a bit,

"Well," Jonathan starts " First of all, who doesn't?"

Steve laughs despite himself "Shut. Up!" he says, balling up the sheet in his hands and throwing it at Jonathan's head, he dodges it easily and picks it back up.

"Second of all," Jon continues, like there was no interruption, "everything Eddie said in the car. And third, just how he generally acts with you." Jonathan shrugs, like it's so obvious, "He shares his songs with you first, he always lets you pick the movie, he cooks your favorite meals, he makes us buy your favorite dessert, I could go on, it's no very hard to tell,"

"And yet-" Steve interjects, laughing a tad bitterly.

"Give yourself a break, Steve." Jonathan tells him, "Nobody thinks straight when they have a crush,"

"Har har" Steve deadpans at the pun.

"That was completely unintended, I swear." Jonathan defends, "I meant it's not hard to tell from the outside. I bet if you really thought of it you could come up with signs you've missed too",

"I don't wanna assume-" Steve muses,

"Then don't." Jonathan tells him, "That was more or less what I was gonna tell you anyways, only now its the opposite"

Steve gives him a confused look.

"Just- You don't have to go ask him out this second," Jonathan explains, "you can just start letting him see that you find him attractive. You said your reactions embarrass you, you keep hiding them, I bet he'd love to see them if we're right about how he feels." Jonathan goes on,

Steve thinks about all the redirecting and hiding he does with Eddie, just so he doesn't find out Steve feels this way about him. If he has a chance to be with Eddie he knows exactly where to start.

"And if we're wrong he won't be an asshole about it." Jonathan says, "I'm 100% sure of that. You can have a big conversation if you want but I know that can be hard, so you can do easier stuff first"

"Like flirt with him" Steve supplies, maybe a little too excited by the prospect.

"Exactly." Jonathan smiles, "Helps that you're not bad at that",

"I'm not the only one" Steve shoots back with a wink.

Jonathan laughs, "There it is" he says, throwing the balled up sheet back at Steve.

Steve chuckles and catches it easily, "Okay. Alright, then. This- I can do this" he states.

"Yeah." Jonathan agrees, "Don't think of it like a huge change, just remember you're only letting him in a little bit, trying to figure out if he feels the same, and if he doesn't, that's cool," he reminds him.

"Yeah." Steve repeats, "Yeah you're right. That makes sense." he agrees,

"I mean it doesn't." Steve adds, "I can't believe he might be attracted to me but- thanks, man. I really appreciate it"

Jonathan smiles and reaches out to clap his shoulder "Anytime, dude. You're my friend, you can talk to me whenever, I'll be happy to listen." he says. Steve can't help thinking Will is so lucky to have him as a brother.

"You're really good at this." Steve tells him, "But, you know, I'm here for you too man, anytime." he offers.

"Thanks, Steve" Jonathan smiles,

Steve smiles back and untangles the bedsheet in his hands, and then they get back to work on the second bunk.

part 4

#steddie #steveddie #steddie headcanon #stranger things #platonic stonathan #not tagging stobin bc it's not that central here but you know they're always central in my heart.#we'll get more of them further down the road don't worry #anyways. I'll upload the next part later today :)#.#steddie lake fic

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daddymothxxx · 12 days

Text

For Basimah

Some things happen so fast.

He came out with his blue, raspberry flavored, slushy and box of loaded fries from a some hole in the wall hotdog joint with a logo that reminded him of a clown. Pep in his step.

Paying not a single bit of mind to the distant screech of tires down the block as he found a bench to sit at. Kicking loose a bum Sinner sleeping on it under a few sheafs of newspaper. Off you go. And off they went.

Dusted his spot off with a hand and had a seat. Popping box open with one set of hands and getting gold caps off with another, shortly pocketed. The roar of racing engines was getting closer, but he was busy eating his fries and indulging himself a few happy, quiet, squeaks about it. Though food down here didn't taste like more than a memory of the living world's version, it did still hit all the good brain spots like scratching under a dog's chin.

And drag racing wasn't at all illegal or uncommon.

Had no reason to think otherwise.

Didn't until well after the pain bloomed in his torso and the screaming started. Barely heard the gunshots that proceeded. Automatic gunfire that made Swiss cheese of the bricks and windows behind him--and likely his chest.

Though he didn't exactly have a starkly defined account of the number of holes there. He suspected many more than were good for him.

His vision was tunneling even as he found himself slumped on bench with his head tipped back. Red sky appearing, to him, to be a shade of murky burgundy--too dark and too gray. His first gasp since it happened made fireworks pop off in his vision. (Somewhere he heard breaks.)

A bleated and still functional part of his thoughts not currently overwhelmed by pain wondered if he'd been the target or just collateral. Either option seemed plausible. Drive-bys? They aren't particularly accurate. Only devastating and swift.

He got his answer when a hand yanked him by the open collar of his shit shirt. Some skunk looking Sinner that smirked into his face while driving a shard of some long broken blade into his side. Some tight space between his upper and lower arms. Kidneys? He didn't know what was where in his fucked up anatomy.

Once. Twice. Three times.

Angel steel by the way it had him whiting out each time it lanced into his flesh. Pulling a choked sound each time. There was already blood in his lungs from the mundane bullets that'd gotten in them.

"For Basimah." The Sinner told him, pat his face, and shoved him over to the side onto the bench. Sprinting off back to waiting car that immediately peeled away. Not dumb enough to stick around or dally.

Everyone knew Vox had eyes on Valentino and there was only a slight window of time to exploit in the Overlord's awareness. The job was done.

#ic #drabble #open maybe

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xdaddysprincessxx · 1 month

Note

Congrats on 800, Prinny!

my thot:

Joel is a truck driver and reader is a hitch hiker he picked up several states before. They get along well enough (no sex...yet) THEN! one day, another hitch hiker approaches Joel looking for a ride - Ezra. He wants to know if you're available for some fun, and Joel has to decide if it's just him who gets you or if he's got room in his bunk for a threesome...

I leave the rest in your ever capable and good hands, baby!

Beefro👌🥩💜

Ride

Joel x F!reader x Ezra

18+, this is grump x sunshine x2, we got ass eating, ass spanking, 1 face slap, double penetration, and more. Very barely edited, not beta’d all mistakes are mine, read at your own risk. Also again 18+ , minors fuck off thank you

Word count: 3,200 - “Drabble” lmaoooo yea it got away from me.

REO Speedwagon flowed through the truck speakers as you reach your hand out the open window, letting the wind move your hand up and down. You’ve kicked your bare feet up on the dash as you hum along quietly. Your companion, Joel, lets out a grunt as he gives you a side eyed glance. It’s been a couple of months since he picked you up on the side of the highway. Unhappy with how life was, you decided to say fuck this, packed a small bag and headed out for whatever adventure came your way. Unfortunately you didn’t plan on your car dying on you half way across the country. Which is how you found yourself stranded at a gas station in Nevada. There was a hotel next to it that you were able to get a room at. One morning you packed up and started walking down the highway. You didn’t go too far in case no one picked you up, you could still walk back to the hotel.

Wearing your shortest daisy duke shorts with an old white tshirt tied up in the front, you were determined to hitch a ride. Lo and behold here comes a semi truck just driving along. Quickly you stopped and stuck your thumb out to signal you needed a ride. At first the truck kept going but soon the driver pulled over. Smiling real big you started to run towards the truck.

Climbing up the side, you stuck your head in the window,

“Well hello there handsome. You got room for little ole me to join?”

The driver had a permanent scowl on his face it seemed. Very easy on the eyes, a soft belly that hung over his pants as he sat.

“Hop in darlin.” He said in a deep, gruff voice.

Something about the handsome, thick driver got you going. You could already feel yourself getting wet just from this small interaction.You couldn’t help but think of how much trouble you just found yourself in.

Present Day

It’s been a few weeks since Joel picked you up. A part of you is surprised he hasn’t dropped you off and left yet. Another part of you hopes he never does. For the most part Joel doesn’t talk a lot. He hasn’t really opened up about himself to you. But you are a talker, you love to chat and boy do you.

Leaned back with your bare feet on the dash with your hand outside the window, moving with the wind.

“I heard it from a friend whooo heard it from a friend who heard it from another you been messing around” you softly sang out loud. Turning your head to face Joel, giving him a big smile.

Joel returned your smile with a soft smile of his own.

Something about you has captivated him. Your beauty stunned him the first time he saw you. You had a pretty mouth he often daydreamed of but your little talking habit drove him crazy. As time went on though he found he actually enjoys hearing you go on and on about everything and nothing all at once. And now that’s he’s spent all this time with you, he’s not so willing to let you go. Ever. Whether you agreed or not, in Joel’s mind, you were his.

“Hey! Look! A hitchhiker! Can we help him Joel? Please? Like how you helped me?” You batted your eyelashes and gave him your best puppy dog eyes.

Joel saw a man walking down the highway, sticking his thumb out.

Looking at you, he rolled his eyes and let out a deep sigh. Without saying anything Joel pulled the truck over and the two of you waited on the man to catch up to the truck.

Ezra was a traveler, always on the move. The past few weeks he’s been spending his time in this little town keeping this pretty lady’s bed warm. That was until her husband came home and chased him away. Now he finds himself walking down this almost deserted highway. He has given up hope of finding a ride when he heard a truck rumbling behind him. As soon as he heard the engine he stuck his thumb out hoping the driver would be a Good Samaritan. The truck drove on by making Ezra let out a huff as he kicked the gravel up with his boot. As he looked back up he saw the truck pull over.

‘Holy shit it’s my lucky day after all’, he thought to himself as he started into a light jog to get to the truck as soon as he could.

Stepping up on the side steps, he gets up to the window and sees the prettiest little thing sitting passenger and . . A handsome old grump behind the wheel.

“ Hey there, any way I can catch a ride with you fine folks today? Destination doesn’t matter, just somewhere far from here.”

“Yea! We can take you with us! Hop in!” You reply in a higher pitched tone, sounding extra excited than one should sound when picking up a hitchhiker. You couldn’t help it though. The man was gorgeous. He had this little blonde patch of hair, beautiful, dark brown eyes and the most sweet sounding voice you’ve ever heard. As much as you’ve wanted Joel, he’s never given you any hint that he wants you in that way. And you’ve been dying to itch a particular scratch that you feel this hitchhiker could really scratch for you.

Giving you a big smile, Ezra pulls the door handle, opening the door as you get up and move to sit on the bunk between the two seats.

“Names Ezra. Nice to meet ya,” he puts his hand out towards Joel to shake.

“Joel.”

He says in a flat tone as he shakes his hand.

Ezra quickly gets the feeling that Joel isn’t much of a people person. He can see why Joel has such a pretty little companion as yourself, Joel’s handsome. Gruff and firm, no nonsense kind of guy. He wonders if he’s the type to be dominant in bed. Manhandle his partner and just throw them around, mold them into any position he wants. His own cock twitch’s at the thought.

“And who might you be young lady?”

You tell him your name as you let out a soft giggle, smiling and give him a little flutter of your lashes.

“What brings you out here Ezra?” You ask in your best flirty voice.

“Bit of a traveler. A nomad if you will. Don’t like to stay in one place too long. Wanna see the world ya know?”

“That’s so . . Romantic. Always on the move, seeing what the world has to offer. I bet you’ve met some wonderful people. Seen a lot beautiful women huh?”

Ezra can’t help but give you a smirk, loving how forward you are.

“Haven’t met anyone as beautiful as you honey.”

Joel loudly clears his throat making the both of you startle slightly and look at him.

“What about you handsome? With a pretty little thing by your side I’m sure you never look twice at anyone else huh?”

Joel’s jaw ticks as he gives Ezra this mean stare.

“This “pretty little thing” over here is mine,” he says bluntly before looking back at you, “and I don’t appreciate you throwing yourself at the first man you see like a filthy fucking whore.”

Your mouth drops open, you’re stunned.

“Hey now no need to call her names. I get it, she’s off limits. No need to get mean buddy. I didn’t know.”

You turn your head giving Ezra a confused look before turning back to Joel.

“Excuse me but I am not yours. I am a free woman and on top of that you have never claimed me before now. I can do what I want with who I want thank you very much.”

Joel is pissed now, he pushes the arm rest back before swinging one of his legs to the side, opening his legs wide and then grabbing your upper arm and pulling you towards him. You stumble as you fall over his lap, his arm wrapping over your back holding you in place. His large hand covers the globes of your ass as he rubs it from the top down to the curve of your ass.

“You’re.” Smack. “Mine.” Smack.

He just spanked you. He actually spanked you. If you weren’t in shock over him claiming you, you definitely were now.

He gives you another smack and a whimper came tumbling out of your mouth. You didn’t even have a chance to try and conceal it. Joel stopped moving, hearing you whimper from his actions. He knew you’d be into some freaky shit. He looks over and sees Ezra sitting there, almost mesmerized by the display in front of him.

“Take your cock out.” Joel orders Ezra.

Stunned and very much turned on, he does what he says and takes his cock out of his pants. Spitting into his hand he brings it back down and slowly starts stroking himself.

Joel looks back down at you in his lap, the bottom of your ass spilling out of the little shorts you have on. He reaches down taking his fore and middle finger and rubs a long stripe up your pussy through your shorts.

“I guess I haven’t been taking care o’ ya. My girls pussy needs to be fucked don’t it? Poor thing. I’m sorry baby let’s fix that.”

His hand pulls back before he gives your clothed pussy a slap.

A wanton moan fills the cab of the truck.

He helps you up, sitting you on his lap. You see Ezra watching, touching himself. You can feel yourself begin to soak your shorts. You face Joel and lean in, your lips softly landing on his. You start to pull away when Joel kisses you back, grabbing the side of your face as he deepens the kiss. You allow his tongue to enter, licking around, tasting each other. All too soon Joel pulls back. He hand goes to your face, squishing your cheeks together between his thumb and fore finger. He rotates you to look at Ezra.

“Our guest looks like he needs some help baby. Be a good host, open up that pretty mouth.”

As soon as he releases your face, you get on your knees, in between the two seats, looking up at Ezra as you reach out and take him in your hand. You grip around the base, giving him a couple of tugs before leaning in and kissing the tip. You give it another kiss before you open your mouth, your tongue darting out to taste the precum leaking out. You slowly start to take him into your mouth. Lips wrapped around his cock as you take as much of him as you can. His cock is about 6 inches, rather average but very girthy. You keep reminding yourself in your head to breath and relax. The more you relax the more you can swallow his cock. You start bobbing your head up and down as he watches you, letting out soft moans that spur you on.

Soon you feel Joel pull your hips up and work quickly on taking your shorts off. You pull off of Ezra’s cock with a wet pop as you go to pull your shirt off, revealing your tits to the men.

“Fffuckk.” Ezra mutters before leaning forward and taking a nipple into his mouth. You moan as you tangle your fingers into his hair, holding the back of his head to your breast as he sucks. You hear Joel behind you unbuttoning his pants and lewdly spitting on his hand.

“Lean back down baby let me see those sweet holes.”

Ezra releases your tit so you can bend over for Joel. You bend over, keeping your ass in the air as you take Ezra’s cock back into your mouth. Giving it a few sucks and finding a decent rhythm, your hand lets go so you can reach back and spread your ass cheeks open for Joel.

“That’s it baby just like that.” Joel grunts. He spits on his forefinger and middle finger and swirling it around your puckered hole. He slowly pushes one finger in your ass making you choke on Ezra’s cock.

His finger stills inside, wiggling his finger around a few times before pulling back out. His other hand comes up and starts rubbing your wet pussy. Quickly finding your clit and giving it a few rubs before pushing his finger back into your ass. Joel finds a rhythm fast, rubbing your pussy as he fingers your ass. The sensation alone has you on edge, you begin to move faster on Ezra’s cock.

Joel starts to add a second finger in your ass causing you to let out a little welp.

“J-Joel! That’s too much! I can’t take it!”

“Shh baby you’re taking it. Taking it just fine. Let me kiss it better.”

Removing his fingers, Joel leans forward, holding your cheeks apart, licking a wide stripe up your ass. Your hands now on Ezra’s legs to keep yourself up right. You and Ezra lock eyes as you moan, feeling Joel swirl his tongue around your asshole, licking into it, making your pussy spasm around nothing.

Ezra cups your face, “That feel good sugar? You like feeling his tongue in such a forbidden hole? I bet your poor sweet pussy must be leaking by now.”

You can’t help but let out a sob. You need more, your neglected clit needs friction.

“Shh I know baby I know, let him French kiss that sweet hole. Let him make your sweet honey drip so we may feast.”

Joel pulls back, spit dripping down his chin,

“Get on the bed Ezra.”

He puts his arm under you, pulling you up. You fall back onto Joel, your legs shaking unable to hold you up.

Ezra makes quick work of taking his boots and pants off, pulling his shirt off as he slides by you to get on the bunk.

Once he’s settled on the bed laying on his back, Joel helps you get on the bunk next.

“Lay on top of him baby. You, hold her open for me.” He orders the two of you.

Ezra pulls you on top of him, your back against his chest. His hands holding the backs of your thighs, right behind your knee as your legs are bend. Holding you wide open. You can feel his cock in between your open cheeks.

Joel undresses and climbs on the bunk facing you.

“Goddamn. Never seen something more sinful or fucking beautiful than this.” He reaches down and grabs ahold of Ezra’s cock and starts pushing the tip towards your puckered hole.

“Joel! Nno! I- I can’t it won’t fit! Please!” You try to move but Ezra’s got a tight grip on you.

“Shh baby it’ll fit, I got you nice and ready back here. He’ll go slow baby.”

He watches your hole as the tip goes in, he takes his other hand and brings it to your pussy and starts rubbing circles on your clit.

You throw your head back and let out a moan, finally getting some friction on your cunt feels so good, you feel your whole body relax, momentarily forgetting about your asshole.

“That’s it baby let it happen,” he whispers before leaning forward and pulling your clit between his lips and sucking. His hand that guided the other man’s cock in you made its way down to his balls, giving them a soft squeeze. Hearing him moan with you is making Joel’s cock leak. Ezra’s cock is almost all of the way in your ass now and it feels so good. You feel stuffed just from him.

Joel sits back up and just admires the two of you.

Taking himself in his hand he moves closer and swipes his cock through your folds a few times before slowly pushing into your pussy.

Your mouth is hanging wide open, your chest heaving as you watch Joel push you past any limits you could’ve had. Having both men now inside of you is an indescribable feeling. It’s a fullness like no other.

“ Oh fuck you both feel utterly divine. This must be heaven.” Ezra says breathlessly as he lays there inside of you, able to feel the weight of Joel’s cock inside your pussy.

“Move Ezra, go on. Let’s make her feel good.”

“Yes sir.”

He gives an experimental thrust, bouncing you slightly making Joel sink deeper into you.

He starts to build up a tempo, thrusting up into you while Joel stays still above you.

Soon Joel moves, finding a rhythm with Ezra. As one moves out the other moves in.

You can’t help but close your eyes as you lean back in ecstasy.

Joel’s quick to grab your throat, squeezing just right to make your eyes fly open.

“Keep your eyes on me baby, you will watch when I’m fucking you. Do you understand?”

Joel slaps you, not hard but enough to leave a slight sting. Your face turns slightly, the hand around your throat not giving you much movement. A wanton moan spilling from your lips.

“Yes Joel I’m s-sorry baby I won’t take my eyes off you again nngh ohh oh fuck oh fuck you feel so good. So full.”

Joel starts pounding harder into you, still squeezing your throat. Ezra’s holding onto your legs for dear life, the friction of Joel’s dick rubbing against him has him ready to burst.

“F-fuck nngh take our cum baby take every fucking drop you hear me?” Joel groans, you can tell both men are close.

“Mhmm cum inside me baby cum inside my little whore cunt. Mark my ass Ezra, I wanna feel you leak out of my holes oooh oh fuck oh fuck please cum baby!”

You reach down and start rubbing furiously at your clit, sending right over the edge. You let out a scream as you start coming, vision going blurry as tears escape your eyes. Your orgasm hitting you like a truck.

Both men soon follow right behind you, spilling their seed deep inside both of your holes.

All three of you still, breathing heavy as Joel pulls out. Ezra’s soft cock slips out right after him as he lets go of your legs.

“Hold on baby don’t move.” Joel tells you before reaching down in between the bunk and the drivers seat, pulling out an old school Polaroid camera.

Aiming the camera at you and Ezra he snapped a shot and a Polaroid came spitting out. He grabbed the photo and sat it by his leg. Then he leaned forward and snapped another pic, this one a close up of your cunt and asshole leaking cum. Taking both photos and placing them on his seat before laying down next to Ezra as he pulls you into the middle.

No one really said a word. It was just the three of you, laying together, soft smiles shared, basking in the soft embrace of each other before falling asleep.

A/n: omg lmao so this was meant to be a drabble, this is one hell of a drabble 😂🤷🏻‍♀️ thank you so so much for such a beautiful thot my sweet beef baby @beefrobeefcal !! I hope you love this! I hope yall enjoy this! I really loved writing this and thank you again for following me, reading, interacting, all of it! You guys are the best!

#prinny’s 800 celebration 🎉#pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller smut #Joel x you x Ezra #pedro pascal characters #ezra prospect #ezra smut #grump x sunshine #follower milestone #follower celebration #pedro pascal cinematic universe

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magics-neptunes-things · 18 days

Text

One Love (5)

Hi guys!

This is another part from my Luna's serie, One Love. It's from some request of some of them, please don't hesitate to ask me if you want something :)

Please enjoy ♥

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5

______________________________________________________________

“Are you writing to Lucy again?!”

Laia’s voice makes Ona almost jump, not expecting her best friend to be as close as she is right now. In fact, she’s sitting in the armchair next to Ona.

“What the hell Laia” Ona grumbles, not answering her question.

Because of course she was. Can anyone blame her? When she’s at home, she has her girlfriend next to her almost every second of the day. Now they are apart for more than ten days and it feels like hell.

“Of course she is” Salma grins, sitting on the other side of Ona.

Ona rolls her eyes, answering to Lucy’s text anyway, making the two other girls smile at each other. They both love Ona, they are actually very fond of seeing her friend as happy as Ona seems to be.

“And you just see how much she is writing to her. You don’t have her looking at Lucy with her heart eyes all day” Salma add.

She’s still smirking, laughing when Ona raises on her a dirty glare.

“I don’t have heart eyes for her all day.”

“Don’t worry, I think it’s cute. I’m sure Lucy thinks the same thing.”

Ona hit Salma’s shoulder this time. She wanted to go for her head, but the striker change wisely her position to be as far as Ona as possible.

“Don’t be like that, Onita. You know that we are actually very happy for you.”

Ona rolls her eyes one more time, unable to hide her smile. She is happy, she even said it in one interview the other day. She doesn’t like to talk about her private life and she didn’t gave any indication about her love for Lucy, but she still said that she is happy. Ona knows that Lucy had read the interview.

“I am happy” Ona mumbles, laying on Laia shoulder while sticking out her thong to Salma.

The younger woman snorts at Ona.

“You never fight?” Laia asks with curiosity.

Ona shakes her head honestly. She knows that only a few people would believe her, after all Lucy and her have both a strong head. But they decided very soon in her relationship to favor discussions.

“That’s true” says Salma. “I’ve never heard one of them talking bad at the other.”

“We only had one fight to be honest.” Ona says thoughtfully.

“What was it about?”

********

Ona doesn’t know how this fight has started, to be honest. They were at the game this afternoon, they won and even if Lucy received a yellow card, it was a good game. After the fans’ meeting and the shower, they went home. Ona was hopping to eat some sushi, cuddle with her girlfriend and their dogs before falling asleep in front of a movie they will take forever to choose.

But it seems like everything went wrong. Lucy was kind of moody when they left the stadium and even if Ona asked her several times what was happening, she only had the answer “I’m fine.”. But Lucy wasn’t, she kept looking right in front of her while driving, not even looking one time at her girlfriend.

The small talk that Ona tried to make wasn’t working either. She just putted some music on and kept looking by the window. Unlike she usually did, Lucy doesn’t open her the car door and even if Ona was saying at first that she can do it herself, she started liking when Lucy does it.

When Lucy plops on her sofa without looking at her, scrolling on her phone with a tightened jaw, it was too much for Ona. She hates fighting, she always tries to find a way to make things better for everyone without having a beef. But right now, it’s too much.

“Lucy?”

No answer.

“Lucy!”

Still no answer. And Ona takes a big breath before walking in her direction to snatch her phone from her hand.

“Can you at least answer me?!”

“Give me my phone back.”

Lucy’s tone is cold, and Ona hates it. But she stands her ground, hiding the phone behind her back. Of course, she knew that Lucy would get mad. But a least she maybe will tell her what the hell is happening.

“No. Talk to me, what’s happening?”

“Nothing Ona, for God’s sake! Give me my phone back!”

The English woman raise her voice and Ona flinch while the dogs hurry to leave the living room. Lucy doesn’t mean to snap at her girlfriend who only seems to want to make things better. But she’s stubborn, hate to talk about her feelings and she’s tired. And mad, but Ona still doesn’t know why.

“Stop acting like a moody teenager Lucy, talk to me please.”

But Lucy thought that it was too late. The fight has already started, Ona is already pissed and herself is already boiling inside. So, she gets up from the couch, passing next to her girlfriend to go to the kitchen.

“You know what? Go to hell.” she mumbles.

In a typical teenage fashion. Feeling that her composure is starting to break, Ona closes her eyes for some seconds and takes a big, silenced breath.

“I don’t understand what is happening, Luce.”

“Why don’t you go ask your best friend? Or is she already gone back to San Sebastian?”

The answer came but it’s nothing that Ona was thinking about. She needs some more seconds, but this time it was to figure out what it was about.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Her best friend is Laia Aleixandri who is definitively at Manchester right now. So, there is no way that Lucy is talking about her and why the hell would Laia makes in their relationship problems? Her and Lucy went along great.

“Oh please.” Lucy is in the kitchen, looking at her through the opening of the door and she raises her voice again. “Don’t tell me it was nothing, I saw the way you hug each other. Everyone else saw it.”

Ona is so surprised that she wants to laugh. Thanks god, her rational part tells her that it’s maybe not the right thing to do.

“She’s a friend. We played together at la Misa when we were younger.”

Lucy snorts and answer something like “Yeah sure” and that makes Ona gone mad too. She knows that her girlfriend is mad, but her cockiness starts to get on her nerves. Especially when the English woman doesn’t make any move to try to make things better between them.

It was this time Ona’s turn to shout.

“Who do you think I am exactly? It was a damn hug Lucy, not a making out session!”

Lucy bites her tongue hard to not answer at that. She knows that otherwise; she will answer things that she doesn’t think and that she will hurt Ona. And even if she’s mad about that girl, the yellow card and almost everything, she doesn’t want to hurt the younger girl.

But Lucy’s silence wasn’t helping, and Ona assumes what everyone would assume.

“Glad to learn how you think about me.”

She was cold too, now hurt. She feels her tears coming and there is no way that Lucy sees her like this. Ona hates being angry because she always ends crying and losing all her credits. So she goes to the bathroom, slamming the door for good measure.

“Shit” sights Lucy, pinching her nose.

********

During the next hour, there is almost no sound in the flat. Ona stayed in the bathroom and then in the bedroom. She regrets her choice, because everything smells like Lucy and remember her their fight. This is their first real fight, they had misunderstood or disagreements, but never that way.

She cried a little (a lot) and after that she used some cold water to make her face a little less red and puffy. After that she was hopping to be able to have some cuddles with her dog, but Coco is nowhere to be found. She frowns when she calls him one time and a second without him coming running like crazy.

She hesitates to go find him, but after twenty minutes, she stands slowly from the bed. When she’s lying on it, he will run to her to cuddle with her. They make the dogs sleep in the living room so every second stolen with one of them on the bed is precious to him.

“Coco?” she calls again at the door of the room.

She waits and listen to any sound indicating the dog’s arrival, but still nothing. At first Ona thinks that he might be angry at her too and she almost cry again. But she thinks better and goes discreetly to the living room. She perks in the room carefully, not wanting for Lucy to see her. Narla is curling against her Mama’s tight, but there is no sight of Coco.

So she goes to the bathroom, to the entry, to the guest room and the kitchen. But still no Coco. And Ona starts to get really worried. Her last chance is the balcony, but she has to cross the living room to go to it. Sighing, she decided to ignore Lucy’s presence, still very mad at her. And hurt, too maybe. Anyway, she really doesn’t want to talk to her right now.

She feels Lucy gaze following her when she crosses the room but doesn’t look at her. Coco isn’t on the balcony and Ona isn’t far for a break down. She sniffs while closing the balcony’s door and that’s what alert Lucy.

“What are you looking for?”

Lucy’s voice returned to her normal tone and Ona takes a shacky breath before answering.

“I can’t find Coco” she mumbles without looking at her.

“What do you mean you can’t find Coco?” Lucy frowns.

“I can’t find Coco Lucy, what don’t you understand?” she shouts, losing it and turning to Lucy. “What do you want me to say? I enjoy touching other women in public and I’m not even able to take care the dog you offered me.”

Lucy has never seen Ona like this. Her red and puffy eyes are full of tears, some of them running freely on her cheeks. She’s shouting again, and Lucy feels her heart crack. She stands from the couch, Narla looking at them from it.

Coco is a gift from Lucy to Ona, that’s right. She gave him to Ona for their ten month’s anniversary but it was honestly only a pretext. Ona had always told her how much she missed the dog she had when she was younger and that she never took another one because she wasn’t at home enough. And at Manchester it wouldn’t have made any sense because she was looking to come back to Barcelona soon.

“He can’t be far away.” she says, making Ona shrugs.

Lucy’s voice is soft now, she fully regrets the fight they had sooner, her behavior and the way she talked to Ona. She doesn’t know how the Spaniard would react to a physical touch from her, but she decides to try anyway. Fingers crossed, she softly takes Ona by the hand before taking her against her to hug her. She breaths again when Ona immediately cuddles against her, hiding her face in her neck.

“Come on. I’ll help you to look at him ok?”

The younger girl nod and follows Lucy in the same rooms that she was before. They finish by the bedroom, but Lucy has to admit that the dog isn’t here too.

“I’ll go take the biscuits” Ona mumbles.

Coco’s weakness. If the dog is in the flat, he will come running. Lucy sighs and sits on the bed, looking at the tissues Ona used to dry her tears with culpability. That’s when she hears a little sound, coming from under the bed. Frowning, she gets up from it to lay down on the floor and looking under the bed. She’s now facing Coco eyes, looking at her.

“Ona? He’s here”

Two seconds later, Ona is in the bedroom with the biscuits’ packet in her hand. With precaution she makes Coco get out from under the bed, before hugging him tight in her arms, her nose in his hairs.

“Why where you hiding here?” she whispers while to dog is licking at her hands.

He licks her face too, making her grimacing. Ona hates when he does it, but he loves it. Lucy can only smile in front of Ona’s face and the way Coco looks at the biscuits with interest. Ona gives him one and Coco takes it before leaving for the living room, leaving the two women alone.

Ona’s small smile fades and she gets up to follow her dog, but Lucy catches her hand before.

“Ona, wait please” the English woman says. “I’m sorry. I know you wouldn’t do anything to hurt me. I was jealous, and stupid and I wasn’t thinking straight. Can you please forgive me?”

Ona rubs her eyes before sighing softy. She’s exhausted to be honest, there was a little too many emotions to deal with for only one night.

“Why in the world would I go for someone else in front of you?”

“I was jealous Ona, that’s all. It was stupid of myself. I’m really sorry.”

“But I don’t understand. We are together almost every second of the day and you know that it’s a torture when we are apart. Why are you jealous? I’m yours, no one else.”

Lucy sighs and sits on the bed, not really fond of the idea of having this discussion now, but she can’t escape it. Not when she had that kind of behavior, not answering wouldn’t be fair to Ona.

“I don’t know. She has your age, doesn’t have constant surgery to fix her knee and she will be playing as long as you. The life we have now won’t last forever, but it would be longer if I was younger.”

Frowning, Ona sits on the bed next to Lucy.

“I know it won’t last forever, but we will have other things to live together after that. I don’t care about your age Lucy, I never had. And I never will. I fell in love with Lucia, not Lucy Bronze the amazing football player.”

Lucy rolls her eyes with a smirk, but Ona’s answer is good to hear. Ona could literally have any other girl if she wanted to, it sometimes doesn’t make sense for the English woman that she chooses to stay with her.

“You didn’t answer me before…”

“About what?” Ona asks, tilting her head.

“Can you forgive me?”

She’s biting her bottom lip, looking at Ona with her eyes full of sincerity and somehow a little of fear? Ona isn’t sure but she only needs to look at her girlfriend for some seconds before answering.

“I forgive you. But you have to talk to me when something isn’t right, Love. I don’t want to fight like this again.”

“I promise” Lucy answers, reaching for her girlfriend.

Ona lean in and Lucy envelops her immediately with her arm. Closing her eyes, she breaths Ona’s sent before hiding her face in the younger one’s hair.

“I’m sorry I made you cry” Lucy mumble against Ona’s hair.

Ona hums softly, before looking up at her.

“Kiss me better?”

Lucy laughs, not regretting slightly having learned this expression to Ona in the beginning of their relationship. Ona knows when using it very well. The dark-haired woman kiss Ona’s lips softly several times, keeping her tight against her. She kisses her face soon after, very part of it, punctuating her kisses with “I love you”.

Some minutes after, she has a giggling Ona in her arms, and she feels her heart melt. Ona is her miracle, coming in her life when she felt like everything was falling apart. Ona flipped her world upside down, but everything makes sense since Her. She can’t lose her.

********

“Even your fights are cute. I’ve never felt so single in my life” Salma sighs, making the two others girl laughs.

A notification from her phone makes Ona’s hand vibrate and the Catalan girl looks at it. It’s a notification from Instagram, Lucy apparently just posted a picture.

“Holy fuck” Ona mumbles while looking at it.

Lucy, looking straight to the camera, her hair down and arm in full display. She knows very well what she’s doing, Ona mentioning yesterday night during their phone call how she’s still destabilized sometimes when Lucy looks at her so intensely. Without thinking, she likes the pictures and received a teasing text from Lucy almost right after.

“Such a tease” Ona mumbles to herself, before looking at her friends again. “Can I have your opinion about something?”

********

Lucy is taking her breakfast, like almost always with her headphones and her music on. Some girls say she is asocial, but she needs that to be in a good shape for the rest of the day. She was sipping at her coffee when she received a notification from Ona.

And she spits her coffee.

“What the hell mate?”

She raises her face on Lauren James in front of her, without answering anything and looks back at her phone. She doesn’t hear LJ groans something about being aggressive soon in the morning, only focused on Ona’s message. Or picture, she just sent her.

A mirror selfie isn’t something rare for Ona, but a mirror selfie with almost nothing on her, it’s like a first.

From Lucy What the hell You’re killing me

From Ona Just thought it would be fair to thanks you for you picture yesterday. Too bad it wasn’t only for me though.

Lucy answered something after that, but she doesn’t take her chance to answer her for now. It’s hard to say which one of the two really started this war, but it has been a ping pong of photos and video, by messages or Instagram sometimes. The fans don’t seem to understand what was really happening, but Lucy and Ona did. And they can say that they have fun.

Several days later, Lucy is waiting for Ona in their house. They came back from the camp, Lucy being earlier even if she was literally in another country. They have to take back their dogs from Ona’s parents, but they will go tomorrow. Right now, honestly, Lucy doesn’t want anything but cuddle with her girlfriend.

Ona arrives at the end of the afternoon, looking a little tired but the smile she puts on her face when she spots Lucy waiting for her in the entrance is beautiful. She lets her bags fall on the floor, raise her hand to put them around Lucy’s neck when she comes for her and let her hugs her. And make her levitate a little, making her giggle.

“I missed your laugh” Lucy smile against her neck, hugging her even harder. “I really missed you.”

“I missed you too” Ona mumble back.

Then Lucy puts her back on the ground and kisses her right on the lips, several time, before Ona tightens her hold around her neck to keep her against her. Lucy smiles against her lips but let her, letting herself enjoying their reunion.

“It’s great to have you in front of me for real and not in a teasing picture” Lucy smirks, some minutes later, when they are cuddling on their sofa.

“It was your fault. You started it” Ona rolls her eyes.

“Me?! I haven’t done anything! You started with your almost naked picture.”

Ona snorts and raise her eyebrow, making Lucy laughs slightly. But she doesn’t want to abdicate so soon, so she shrugs.

“What?”

“I know what. You posted that amazing picture of yourself the day before that.”

“It was just a casual picture. Not my fault if you fancy me as much.”

The sassy comment makes Ona try to hit her, but Lucy is faster and grabs her hands. With it, she takes Ona closer to her, smirking again.

“I love that you fancy me, though.”

She tries to kiss her, but Ona turns her face to make her lips kiss her cheeks instead.

“Ona” Lucy frowns.

But it was Ona’s turn to be sassy, turning her head at the last moment when Lucy try to kiss her again and again.

“Come on, just kiss me” she whines at her fourth attempt.

“Who’s the one fancying the other now?” Ona smirks.

Lucy sighs excessively, knowing that she won’t have the last word this time. Rolling her eyes, she pouts while talking.

“Ok I fancy you too. And maybe I posted this picture to tease you. May I have my kiss now?”

“Yes, you can.”

Ona laughs, making Lucy smiles, before she leans in to kiss her. Lucy is right, after all the teasing and the being away thing, being together again is the best feeling ever.

#woso imagine #woso fanfics #ona batlle #ona batlle imagine #ona batlle x lucy bronze #lucy bronze imagine #lucy bronze #lucy bronze x ona batlle #luna

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octuscle · 8 months

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Help I found this bag on my way home and was trying to figure out if I could send it back to the owner but all I found was a leather harness a dog mask and I think something pricked me. Now I have an urge to just gym. What’s going on?

Well, the need to do more sports is never wrong to begin with. So you head to the gym after work with your gym bag packed. It's a bit strange that you pee on a tree instead of going to the toilet inside. But okay, everyone as he likes. It's 6:00 p.m. when you start your workout. It's 11:30 p.m. when the janitor asks you to leave the building. You can no longer take a shower. It doesn't matter. You want to be back here at 6:30 a.m. anyway, when the gym opens again.

When you arrive at the office the next day, a colleague points out that you smell like a wet dog. Or worse. Yes, you didn't shower after your workout today either. You sniff the colleague… Smells good. Jerked off this morning. You can smell it very clearly. You would like to lick his hand with which has jerked off. But with effort you can still hold yourself back. You apologize and go to the toilet. Actually to wipe out at least your armpits with a damp paper towel. But since you are already here, you drink a sip of water from the toilet bowl.

Thank God it's Friday. You can say goodbye to the office early. Still in the car you half undress. You roll down the windows. The breeze feels so good on your chest. You feel like sticking your tongue into the wind. But that might be a little too dangerous. Too bad that not the colleague with the hand smelling so horny after jizz sits next to you and drives the car…

In the gym you can hardly concentrate. Everything smells so intense. After sweat, but also after urine and cum. You have a hard-on all the time. And would so like to sniff the other men in the crotch… After two hours you can't stand it anymore. You have to get out of here. In the parking lot you mark a tree with your piss. And then you make your way home.

Where is this bag again… Where did you put it? You sniff. Yes, there is the smell of another man. An intense smell of sweat and cum. Especially from one man. But also from many other men. But not as intense from them. Little thing to find the bag again. You can not help it, you have to put on this dog mask. You have to put on the harness. There are also a leather jockstrap, socks and sneakers. You look at yourself in the hall mirror. You drop to your knees, wiggle your ass excitedly and start barking.

You sniff the bag again intensively. What a variety of smells. Delicious smells… Where does the bag have come from? You have to go out into the fresh air to find the source of these smells. For a while you walk aimlessly through the neighborhood. But then you find the place where you found the bag. You mark the spot. And now it gets easier. The smells become more intense. You walk into a dark side alley. There, behind the door, in front of which the men in the hot leather clothes are standing, that's where the bag is coming from. You are quite sure. One of the men asks you if you have lost your way. And where is your master? You throw yourself on your back and wiggle your ass. The man bends down to you, rubs your chest and tells you that you are a good boy. You sit up and finally you can sniff a man's crotch. And then also with the other men. With a few you even recognize the smells, they were already on the harness and the mask.

The friendly man whistles and says "Heel". Immediately you sit down at his side. The two of you go through the door. Yes, you recognize all the smells. Excited, you walk from man to man, sniffing feet and crotch. A leather mat hangs in a dark corner. You've been here before, many of the smells you know are particularly intense. You just want to make a mark, when your master calls loudly "no". Whimpering, you sit down in front of him. He pats you on the head. It's time for you to get into your basket. He gets a chain, attaches it to your harness and takes you to his home. He shows you where your place is. You first lick his balls, then drink a sip from the toilet bowl and then you go to your place and fall into a deep fun.

It is already light when you wake up. Your master is still snoring. But you have to pee urgently. But you don't want to wake your master. Excitedly you run back and forth. You start to whimper. In your distress you even bark softly. But your master does not wake up. So you go to the kitchen and pee there. And you go back to sleep. A loud scream from the kitchen wakes you up. You know exactly what has happened. You make yourself very small and crawl into the kitchen. Your master is wiping away your puddle. You whimper. He gives you a slap on the butt. And then strokes your back. He laughs and says that he hasn't had a puppy in a long time. You jump around him relieved and lick his magnificent morning glory.

Since your master still has no food bowl and no food for you, he always drops a piece of bread under the table at breakfast. After that, he takes you on a leash and lets you pee and poop. And then he drives away with you in the car. It's wonderful to stick your head out of the window and stick your tongue in the wind. You stop at a store, from which it smells strange. Your master explains to you that this is going to hurt a little bit, but it's important to mark you so that everyone recognizes you and knows who you belong to if you ever run away.

It really hurt. But master stroked you and gave you treats. And when you are done, you are very proud. And master looks very satisfied too. He takes you on a leash and drives you to the store where you met. Today there are a lot of men with dog masks. But you are sure that you are the most beautiful puppy.

Monday morning, 06:00. The alarm clock rings. Fuck, those were wild dreams… You go into the bathroom and turn on the shower. Phew, you need it, what do you stink of for God's sake? You will have to strip the bed. Your gaze falls on your reflection. You obviously didn't dream about the visit to the tattoo artist. You wander through the apartment. The bag, the contents, everything gone. But at the coat check hanging leash and collar. And your name is on the dog tag.

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #chronivac #leather tf #inked man #muscle transformation #male transformation

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ggomos-maribat · 8 months

Text

8 | in which Bruce is not the only aspiring Marinette-adopter

Part 8 of No Mr. Wayne You Can't Adopt Me! | Masterlist

"A visit to the Kent family farm?" Marinette echoed, "This sounds like a family event only. Are you sure I should be going?"

"I know it sounds like I'm pre-adopting you—"

"Yes, it absolutely sounds like that—"

"But Dick suggested for you to come instead of him since he won't be able to come," Bruce explained. "Besides, Lois specifically asked for you."

Lois, huh. Marinette felt an incoming headache already. On one hand, a part of her knew she should be declining it firmly but it would be terribly impolite to turn down the invitation as well. It was a problem indeed.

But if I go, I can just stick to the Kents and avoid the Waynes, right? She wondered. It's free food too and I won't need to work on a Friday.

One work week later, she ended up squeezed inside a van with Bruce behind the wheel, driving to Smallville. She had a basket of pastries at her feet, window to her left and Damian on her right. Everything seemed to be going fine when—

Screech!

The car suddenly halted and before Marinette knew it, Damian's arm was in front of her to keep her from face-planting on the back of the car seat.

"Sorry! There was a dog!" Bruce apologized from the front seat.

"If you were gonna drive this bad, you should've let me drive instead," Jason groaned from the passenger seat, rubbing his head.

"Yeah, Bruce, you should've told us if you were gonna send us to an early grave," Stephanie piped up from the back. "Damn it Cass, we have to redo the cracker tower."

When Marinette took a peek, she saw that the girls were trying to pile up some Ritz crackers on top of a sleeping Tim's forehead. Tim (lucky for him) was just snoring away the whole time.

Bruce threw his second son a look. "We both know you're going above the speed limit if you drive."

"I only speed when I'm on my bike!" Jason denied. "I can definitely drive better than you, old man."

Marinette figured these were the effects of not having Alfred around. The butler had to go to the farm ahead of them in the promise of helping the elder Kents prepare. But Marinette knew Alfred just secretly wanted to escape the family's chaos.

"Are you okay?" Damian whispered beside her. She nodded and smiled in reply.

In fact, Marinette was about to open her mouth to offer to drive but then she remembered her agreement with Bruce: on the trip, she wasn't supposed to act as an assistant but rather a family friend. She sighed inwardly in defeat.

"Father, if you're already too old to drive, I can take over the wheel as well," Damian said.

"I'm not too old to drive." Bruce rolled his eyes. "It's fine, I can handle this."

"Famous last words," Jason scoffed. "If Dickie were here he'd arrest you for reckless driving."

"I'm not recklessly driving!"

Marinette withheld a chuckle. Seeing someone causing trouble for Bruce other than herself was amusing. She stretched as much as the small space allowed her and whispered to Damian, "Can I rest my head on you?"

He stared at her for a moment. "Of course."

Grinning, Marinette leaned her head against his shoulder. Their arms were only slightly touching but she could feel his warmth. From her position, she could see Bruce squinting at them through the rearview mirror.

"Bruce, eyes on the road please," Duke warned.

Bruce huffed through his nose but focused on driving.

"Why can't Clark take us there instead?" Stephanie complained, "It'll be much faster."

An image was painted in Marinette's head: Superman carrying the van over the skies while Bruce sulked on the front seat.

"He's busy," Bruce replied, glancing towards Marinette (probably checking if she found the statement odd). "Don't you think I'm perfectly capable of taking us there safely?"

"Nope," Stephanie responded.

"Ditto," Cass said.

Stephanie snorted out a laugh. "I only agreed to go anyway 'cause Kara and Lois are there."

"Ditto."

"Hey if he gets any worse at driving, I'll call Alfred and tell him we got kidnapped," Jason suggested.

"No, you're not," Bruce sighed in exasperation.

"Twenty-one crackers!" Stephanie cheered suddenly. "Agghh, hold it there Cass, I'm taking a picture!"

Marinette's gaze strayed downwards. Our hands are really, really close. Their knuckles are just barely brushing. Sucking in a breath, she moved her fingers to touch the back of Damian's hand. To her surprise, his hand wrapped around hers with his thumb rubbing her knuckles.

The car swerved again.

"BRUCE!"

"That's it, I'm calling Alfred."

"Fuck! The crackers!"

". . . Wha . . . huh? What's happening?"

***

"Where is she?! Where's Marinette?"

One of the things Marinette dreaded. Seeing Lois Lane-Kent again. The woman practically squeezed past the other Kent boys to lock her in a suffocating hug the moment she stepped out of the van.

"Marinette!" Lois said, pulling away and squishing her cheeks together. "Jeez, recommend an assistant job to a girl and she never reaches out anymore!"

"I answer your calls sometimes," Marinette weakly protested.

"But no visits." Lois turned to Bruce with an accusatory glare. "Are you overworking the poor girl?!"

"No, no, I'm fine." Marinette gently pulled away from her hold while Bruce escaped to help the others prepare the picnic table. "It's a great job, honestly. The pay is very generous."

"You know Marinette, Lois?" Duke asked as he helped unload another box from the van.

"You haven't told them?" Lois looked at her, and Marinette responded with a sheepish look.

Lois smiled proudly, wrapping an affectionate arm around Marinette. "I had the absolute honor of interviewing this girl about the Paris akuma attacks. She was the civilian aide for the heroes!"

"Lois," Marinette groaned.

"We kept in touch, and I was the one who suggested she get a PA job at WE when she moved to Gotham." Lois patted the top of her head. "Hmph, on second thought I should've kept you as an assistant for myself."

"I told you, journalism isn't my expertise," said Marinette.

"You're a brilliant girl, you can learn! If you stay in Metropolis, you can even live with us!"

Marinette's eyes widened in horror. "No please, I've had enough of serial adopters."

"What? Oh, is Bruce trying to . . ." She scowled at the girl's boss again. "I knew it! I knew this would happen, agh I shouldn't have sent you to him!"

"Lois . . . no, you can't legally adopt me . . ."

The woman's eyes gleamed. "But illegally?"

"You were a civilian aide?" Damian asked, staring at Marinette.

"No big deal. I just worked behind the scenes to help defeat Hawkmoth." She kept a wary eye on Bruce. If he were to find out, he will combust for sure . . . and become more adamant on adopting her.

"Read my article, you'll see how amazing she is!" Lois boasted.

"Lois, please," Marinette sighed. "I'll go set these up at the table."

Fortunately, a savior by the name of Ma Kent called Lois back to the house so Marinette was able to shake her off. She was grateful for the journalist, really—recounting what happened to Paris was no easy feat and often other reporters liked to focus on the heroes and villain only, not the trauma or lasting damage on the city. Lois even helped her settle in, lecturing her on the dangers of Gotham despite not being its resident.

But Lois was . . . the second one who expressed the desire of adopting her before Bruce.

"Didn't know the Waynes had a new one," a new voice said.

"Kon!" Marinette put down the basket and reached up to hug the boy. "I didn't know you're here!"

"When I heard you were coming, I knew I couldn't miss this." Kon raised an eyebrow. "You're such a traitor, Mars, you're one of them now?"

"Of course not!" She huffed. "I wanted to skip out on work and, er, Lois wanted me to come."

Another familiar face approached the two. "Full offense, but you look like you're part of the Wayne family now."

Marinette lowered her tone to a whisper, leaning to give Jon a side hug. "Mr. Wayne wishes." She rolled her eyes. "But he can't, obviously."

A few feet away from them, Clark fell into a coughing fit. Oops, he heard that didn't he? Marinette's cheeks reddened.

She had been visiting Metropolis during her third meet up with Lois. At that time, she had the two boys join them for lunch, and that was when Marinette got to meet them. Both seemed just as energetic as the Wayne boys, by her observation, but in a different way.

Jon threw an arm around her shoulder. "Hey, is it just me or Damian looks extra broody?"

"Probably . . . jealous?" Kon looked at the boy.

"Jealous of what?" asked Jon. Slowly, his head turned towards Marinette, seemingly coming to a realization little by little. "What? No way."

"Maybe . . . yes way." Marinette brushed a hand over her bangs. "There was this, um, thing on our way here you see."

"What is it? What is it?"

Marinette rubbed her heated cheek. "I'll tell you later!"

Just then, Clark came to the table to set down some glasses and utensils. "It's nice seeing you again, Marinette. You haven't run into another Batman-related trouble I hope?"

"Batman-related trouble?" Jon repeated, directing a curious look towards her.

"Nope, not at all," Marinette chuckled. "In fact, he stalked me one night in an empty street just to apologize."

Clark's eyebrows raised. "He did?"

"You never told us that!" Kon chimed in.

"I know, it's a long story." Marinette grinned evilly. "But I think it's best told over lunch with everyone."

***

"Tea or coffee?" Marinette asked her guest, who was sitting at her humble dining table, hands folded together.

"Tea please, my dear. I do miss your personal brew—it's one of a kind."

Marinette rolled her eyes as she grabbed a teacup from the upper cabinets. "Flattery will get you nowhere."

The guest tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. "It's not flattery. It's only a comment."

Marinette prepared the tea diligently, and even brought out leftover banana bread she made for herself and her neighbors. From her periphery, she could see the woman looking over the photographs she had framed on the pastel walls. "There's too much of you who want to adopt me, you know," she said.

"Oh?"

"My boss and . . . Lois just the other day. I don't know if she was joking or not." Marinette scrunched her nose. "Seriously, legally none of you can adopt me."

"Who said I was going to do it by legal means?"

"Kwamis, don't say that, Talia. I think Bruce is an inch away from doing it under the table too."

With the tea and snacks prepared, Marinette put everything on a wooden tray she put together herself and brought it over to the table. If she anticipated Talia's visit, she would've cooked an entire meal. Alas, the woman popped up during the most unexpected hours.

"Your honey jar is very cute." Talia chuckled.

"Hmpf. It was a gift." A house-warming (or apartment-warming?) gift from Adrien: a custom transparent jar with a cat design painted on it. The top of the dipper's handle was carved out into a paw.

"How is Damian, by the way?"

"I thought you came here as a friend." Marinette crossed her arms. "It's not my job to keep tabs on your son."

"I know that, my dear, but he doesn't like seeing me . . ."

"Just talk to him." Marinette took a bite of her bread. "You know, the key to being emotionally constipated is to actually let it all out."

Marinette had met Talia al Ghul way before she met Bruce or any of the Waynes. She found out the woman's connection to them much later, however. After becoming guardian and losing Fu to amnesia, Talia had become somewhat of a mentor to her. Someone who taught her more about eccentric skills than magical knowledge and responsibility (the woman was crazy skilled in the most random things, it used to drive Marinette crazy). Since they'd parted aways after she graduated, Marinette saw her more like a troublesome aunt than a teacher.

"He has taken an interest in you, no?" The way her emerald eyes glittered spoke of her slyness.

"Taliaaa," Marinette groaned.

"What? It is very funny how fate brought you two together." She sighed wistfully. "I never saw it coming."

"Do you seriously want me to be with your son just so you can make me your daughter?"

"What's the problem? You like him too, right?"

"Talia!"

She shrugged. "'I'm just saying I'm not opposed to the relationship."

Marinette rubbed her face, hoping to ease off the heat on her cheeks. "I thought you're here to see how I'm doing, not badger me about my love life. You're starting to sound like my mom."

Talia's grin grew wide. "Your mom?"

"Wait, no—"

Talia set her chin on top of her locked hands. "Would you like a League-themed wedding, my dear? Have a little blood pact mixed in?"

"Damian and I aren't even marrying!"

"Yet," the woman added. "I can't wait to have you in the family. I've got the perfect heirlooms to pass on to you. A sword, if you'd like or even a kunai."

"Oh, come on—"

"You have my complete blessing Marinette," she cooed. "In fact, I'd rather have Damian be with no one else but you."

Marinette stood up so quickly, red in the face, and her chair scraped the floor. "I'm going to bed."

Talia reached over to grab her hand. "Leaving your guest all alone! Where are the manners I taught you?"

"I'd actually love to chat if you have something else to talk about," Marinette huffed.

"Alright, alright, sit down. I'll behave myself, I promise." The former mentor smiled. Marinette narrowed her eyes. She should've closed her window that night.

***

After a debate with herself, Marinette decided to voice out her request to Bruce at the time she served coffee and snacks in his office. She was setting down his mug on a coaster when she popped the question: "Mr. Wayne, can I have next Thursday off? I can work on Saturday to make up for it."

Bruce looked up from his screen. "Hm? What for?"

"I've finally decided to let Lois adopt me."

"What?" Marinette had never seen Bruce so panicked. She didn't know if she should laugh or feel sorry for it.

"I'm kidding." She transferred the snacks next from the rolling cart. "Some of my friends are visiting Gotham, but their only free day is on Thursday. I haven't seen them in a while so I really want to catch up."

Bruce slowly regained his composure, clearing his throat. "Right. Of course you can go, Marinette. No need for the extra hours."

". . . Are you sure you'll be fine without me?"

"Yes, we have no meetings scheduled that day, do we?" Bruce waved the thought off. "Enjoy the day off. You deserve it."

***

It was Chloe who got them the reservations for their dinner: an open air chabudai-style restaurant that served Japanese cuisine. The tables were low, comfy enough for them to sit cross-legged on cushions while still keeping elegance.

Marinette sipped on her drink and nudged Luka with her shoulder. "You never told us what you were in Gotham for."

The now world-renowned musician ran a hand through his hair. "Dad's having a tour around the U.S. He wanted to check the venue here since this is the last stop. Our band's opening."

Marinette sucked in a breath. "Congrats, Luka! I didn't know about that, Jagged hasn't put out a commission yet!"

"Planning's still in the works." Luka smiled. "I'm sure Penny will reach out soon."

Adrien groaned and stretched his arms. "I'm so fuullll." He fell on his back, positioning his head on Marinette's lap.

"I told you to lay off on the maki roll," Chloe tsked to which Adrien stuck out a tongue in reply.

Marinette ignored the bickering pair and turned to Kagami. "What about you, Kags? Have you met up with your new student yet?"

"What new student?" asked Adrien.

"You're not reading the group chat, are you?" Chloe scolded.

"It's alright, I only mentioned it in passing." Kagami poured more cups of beer for Luka and Chloe. "A former coach told me about a rising fencing prodigy in Gotham. I wanted to take a look for myself if I can mentor them. Unfortunately there was an emergency at the airport earlier so I'm meeting them tomorrow instead."

Marinette grimaced, distinctly remembering that some Rogues had broken into the airport in the morning.

"Prodigy or not, the kid's gonna be an international level pro if you're the coach, Gami," Adrien pointed out.

"Hm. You have too much faith in me."

"What about you, Maribug? How's work?" Chloe directed her inquisitive gaze at the girl.

"Just the same old." With a little bit of something going on with my boss' son. "My boss still wants to adopt me, everyday's busy, sometimes I get caught up in robberies and hostage situations for a little spice."

"M'lady?" Adrien suddenly said in a soft voice.

Marinette reached down to stroke his hair. "What's up?"

"I think I saw something move behind the trees over there."

Marinette squinted into the dark, past the lantern lights. Familiar . . . shadows moved around, cloaked by the darkness.

"Oh hell no," she whispered. "What the fuck? Those are the Gotham vigilantes."

Adrien's lips shaped into an 'o'. "Ohhh, I think . . . I think they're here because of me."

"What?"

"Well, the small business I asked to do the landscaping for our runway event is Pam and Harley’s," Adrien explained. "I talked to them earlier and they got worried since it's my first time here in Gotham. They offered a security detail even when I said I didn't need any!"

"And that . . . security detail are the vigilantes?" Chloe stared.

"Guess so. Hey, do you think we should offer them some food?" Adrien sat up and waved at the shadows. "Do you think they'll join us?"

"Adrien," Marinette groaned. "Anyone but them."

"What, why?"

***

Meanwhile . . .

"Rob, you've been staring at Marinette and that guy for a long time."

"I am not."

"Are you jealous? She said they're her friends right? They must be really close."

"Tt."

Taglist: @hammalammadamdam @animegirlweeb @fairlyfatale @agentxx92

#maribat fic #maribat fanfic #dc x mlb #mlb x dc #maribat #dc x miraculous #NMWYCAM #PA!Marinette

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renecdote · 7 months

Note

In case you want mORE :’)

cuddling in the first morning light + buddie anniversary? ❤️

hi amy ily I hope you enjoy these sappy boys (ft party dog socks as requested) mwah 💛 [Read on AO3]

It’s a miracle, really, that they make it out of the ER before five a.m. A miracle that they make it out of the ER without an admittance at all, Buck thinks privately, but that’s more to do with his shitty luck with ending up in the hospital than any feeling that he actually needs to be there right now. If it had been up to him, they wouldn’t have come at all.

“Which is why it’s not up to you,” is all Eddie had said to that on the drive in, his hands tight around the wheel and his foot a little heavier than normal through the yellow lights. The real miracle, honestly, is that Buck managed to talk his way out of an ambulance trip. He only fainted, like, one and half times, he’s fine, but you have one little history of cardiac arrest after being struck by lightning and suddenly everyone is more worried than they need to be.

No. That’s not fair. He’s just—he’s tired. He wants to be home already.

Eddie’s hand guides him back to the car and Buck tries not to lean into it too much, more unsteady than he is willing to admit but not wanting to keep worrying Eddie. He focuses on putting one foot in front of the other, thinking dreamily about getting home and sinking into their very comfortable bed with his very snuggle-able husband.

He slumps against the window, eyes closing as he lets out a shaky breath, and he only remembers to put on his seatbelt when Eddie gets in the driver’s seat and clicks his own belt into place. The snap is loud in the quiet bubble of the car. Buck winces at the pulse of pain through his head. The fluids the hospital gave him did something, he’s pretty sure, but the headache is clinging tight.

Eddie fiddles with the radio, searching for a traffic report, and Buck winces again when a host far too cheery for the early hour informs them that there has been an accident so they’ll have to take a detour.

“Sorry,” Buck sighs. He has said it too many times already, he knows, but he can’t help it. It doesn’t make sense that traffic would be his fault but it feels like one more thing he needs to apologise for anyway.

“You don’t need to apologise, Buck,” Eddie tells him, and somehow there’s still none of the exasperation Buck keeps expecting to hear there. He sounds more tired than he did at the start of the night, exhaustion dripping from his consonants and his shoulders as he glances in the rearview mirror before pulling out of the carpark, but his voice is just as patient as it was the first and second and tenth time Buck said he was sorry.

“It’s just.” Buck bites his lip, working through the frustrating press of tears behind his eyes. He’s just tired. He’s tired, and feeling more like crap than he wants Eddie to know, and, “It’s our anniversary.”

Eddie glances at him then. His hand twitches towards the gear stick like he wants to shift it into reverse and back up down the road until they’re back in front of the hospital.

“You said you didn’t hit your head when you fell.”

Buck groans. “Please don’t turn the car around.”

“Our anniversary is in March,” Eddie reminds him, as if Buck doesn’t know that. He was the one who wanted a spring wedding and then he spent the whole day sneezing because of hay fever. It would have been miserable if it wasn’t the best day of his life.

“I know it’s not March,” Buck insists, fully aware that he’s being too insist-y about it. He’s just so tired. “I didn’t mean that anniversary.”

Eddie frowns. He opens his mouth, then closes it, and in the flash of orange streetlights, Buck can see him flipping through a calendar in his mind, Chris’ school events and work shifts and all the important days in their lives marked on it with colourful pens and stickers. Buck can see him coming up blank on anything that matches today’s date.

It’s stupid, really. Extra stupid because Buck didn’t even know about it, not consciously, and then he accidentally caught a glimpse of Eddie’s personnel file in Bobby’s office on Monday and—

“It’s the day we met,” he says, playing with the plastic band around his wrist. “The day you joined the 118.”

The day their lives changed forever, even though they didn’t know it at the time.

“It’s stupid,” Buck adds, mumbling.

They’re at a stop light now, and the cross street is clear, but instead of accelerating forward, Eddie puts the handbrake on and leans across the console to pull Buck into a kiss. A sound of surprise catches in the back of Buck’s throat, but then he curls his fingers into the front of Eddie’s hoodie and kisses back.

“I love you,” Eddie says when they pull apart, his eyes crinkling with his smile. Buck can hardly see it in the dim interior of the car, but he can hear it in Eddie’s voice, the kind of warmth and fondness that is so sticky Buck will find traces of it clinging to him for the rest of the day.

“I love you too,” he replies, a little breathless. He hopes Eddie thinks it’s just from the kissing.

“I’m gonna take you home,” Eddie says, thumb a caress at the edge of Buck’s jaw. “And we’re gonna sleep for at least five hours. Probably more.” Buck smiles. “And then we can celebrate our anniversary, okay?”

“It’s not even a real anniversary,” Buck tries, not even really sure why he’s arguing. A more sensible person would just agree, and maybe remind their husband that they’re stopped in the middle of the road, so maybe they should put the car back in gear and hurry up with the getting home part of the plan? Any minute now some early morning commuter is probably going to come along and beep at them.

Eddie kisses him again, quicker and chaster than before, his lips gone before Buck can even try to chase them.

“It can be an anniversary if we want it to be,” he says, shrugging the kind of one-shouldered shrug that means he’s trying to seem unbothered when he’s actually feeling a lot of things, probably very deeply. Then he puts the car back in gear and checks both directions are clear before continuing to drive. It’s not fair, really, because it means Buck can’t work through the many, very deep feelings in his own chest by kissing Eddie stupid.

When we get home, he tells himself. But by the time they pull into the driveway, Buck is flagging.

They shower together—“it’ll be faster,” Eddie says, as if Buck doesn’t know it’s just so he can make sure Buck doesn’t pass out and crack open his skull on the tiles—and with the smell of the hospital gone and the bone-deep exhaustion amplified by the heat, Buck is half-asleep before he makes it into bed. He seriously considers not getting dressed at all, maybe not even drying off, just rolling under the covers and passing out (metaphorically, this time). But then Eddie is in front of him with a t-shirt and sleep shorts, a pair of party-themed dog socks tucked under his arm, and it’s just as easy to let him help.

“Bet you didn’t think we’d end up here,” Buck finds himself saying, watching Eddie roll the socks onto his feet. He could do it himself, but.

“No,” Eddie agrees, looking up at him. His smile is teasing when he adds, “Especially not those first few days.”

The embarrassment Buck used to feel looking back at that has been tempered by time and the life they have built together.

“I was a dick,” he says easily.

Eddie snorts. “You thought you were so tough.”

“Hey,” Buck protests, unable to fully bite back his own smile. “I am tough.”

“My tough firefighter husband.”

Only half teasing.

"Don’t worry, Eds," Buck tells him, “you’re my tough firefighter husband too.”

Eddie’s knees crack when he stands and they both laugh.

Eddie holds out a hand and Buck takes it, bracing himself before Eddie pulls him to his feet. He sways there a second, takes another second to figure out it’s because Eddie is pulling him in, not because of head rush, then he’s ducking his head down to Eddie’s shoulder while they hug. He likes hugging Eddie. He likes pretty much everything about Eddie, likes doing pretty much everything with him, but even before they started dating, Buck always liked the way Eddie hugged him. Liked the way it made him feel held.

“Good?” Eddie checks.

He’s not really asking anything, but he’s also asking everything, so Buck takes the time to squeeze him a little tighter before he answers, “Yeah, ‘m good.”

They separate just long enough to climb into bed, then Eddie wraps an arm around his waist and Buck melts back against him. Behind the blinds, the sky is probably just starting to lighten, alarm clocks starting to go off around the city, birds chirping, a thousand days starting while theirs finally ends. Buck closes his eyes, breathing slow and deep with the rise and fall of Eddie’s chest against his back.

“Wake me if you need me, okay?”

Buck wants to say that he won’t need him—he’s fine, really, the doctor said so and everything—but he just yawns and agrees with a half-garbled, “Uh huh.”

Eddie presses a kiss behind his ear. Or maybe Buck just imagines that he does. He can’t be sure whether he really hears the whispered, “love you,” either. It doesn’t really matter; they’re just words. He can feel all the branching, overlapping layers of Eddie’s love even without I love you.

It’s nice, though, hearing the words anyway.

Buck falls asleep wondering whether Bobby knew just how much he would change their lives when he asked Eddie to join the 118.

#Evan Buckley #Eddie Diaz #911 Fox #fic #sorry this is kinda dumb akskdk

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nicorobinmywife · 1 year

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Driving a car with them.

[op boys x gn reader]

Summary: how they behave in the car with you.

Characters: Monster trio + Doffy.

Warning: mentions of sex.

Luffy

gets bored easily in the car, he just can't wait to get home and eat food.

to pass the time, he goes out pressing all the buttons in the car and you have to scold him.

asks you at least fifty times how much time is left to get home.

likes to change seats all the time, one hour he sits in the front and minutes later he decides to sit in the back of the car.

Luffy sticks his head out the window with his tongue flapping in the wind like a dog.

Zoro

at first everything seemed fine, just you laying your head on the car window while Zoro drives.

you widen your eyes when you realize that the car has passed the same road for the fifth time.

you and zoro argue because that bastard got lost, it's like he just picks random streets to drive through with you 😭

you try to turn on the gps but Zoro grumbles and says he doesn't need a stupid device to get back home.

After hours of arguing, Zoro gives up and lets you drive while he takes a nap.

Doffy

Doffy doesn't drive, neither do his lover, he has his own pink limousine and a private chauffeur.

he loves relaxing with you listening to music and drinks, but the real fun starts when he close the driver's window so you and him can have more...privacy.

he teases you by threatening to open the limo window so everyone can see him fucking you, fu-fu-fu!

poor chauffeur has to pretend he's not listening to Doffy fucking his lover in the back of the limousine, otherwise Doffy will not hesitate to end his life.

Sanji

your boyfriend Sanji is the best driver ever.

he makes sure you have your seat belts on so you have a safe and comfortable trip.

he puts some romantic music on the radio to make the vibe more pleasant.

it's hard for him to stay focused on the road, sometimes Sanji finds himself admiring your beauty.

the way Sanji drives while smoking his cigarette makes you kinda turned on, he is so hot.

he is totally into car sex, only if you are comfortable with it.

--------

English is not my native language so be patient if you find grammatical errors.

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kingslimeball · 3 months

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Living in a Bush

Kurt Kunkle x male!reader

Requested by; @batzfailz

Contents; Fluff

Summary; M/n gets in Kurt's spree before recognising his childhood bestfriend.

Kurt bobs his head along to the music in his car while he sits on his phone. He's been driving people around on spree all day, but just now he's started to get tired. One more. He keeps on telling himself. Just one more, then I'll go home. There's been seven one mores.

The wait for one more passenger seems to be forever. There's no shock to it, though. It's the middle of winter and it's almost 1am. Kurt puts his car into drive, about to give up and drive home, but he gets a notification from his phone. One more.

He instantly clicks on accepting the passenger and puts his phone down. He doesn't really care who he picks up. He's just excited to talk to one last person. He follows the directions, and pulls up to where he hopes the person he's getting is.

Kurt lowers the window and sticks his head out to look for who he's getting. Nobody around. Strange. Kurt jumps and almost yells when he hears the door open and close behind him. He twists around with a smile to see what kind of person he's picked up this time.

"Hey, my name's Kurt!" He introduces like usual. But something seems different. He feels like he knows the boy sitting in his backseat and he can't quite place it. He opens his mouth to ask if he knows him, but the boy has already started talking.

"Nice to meet you, man. I'm so glad you could pick me up, like– you would not believe the day I've had." The boy starts. Kurt turns around and looks at his phone. He starts to drive with the directions from the app.

"I went over to my friend's for a chat, right? And she ended up inviting every damn person she knew, so it ended up a fuckin' party when I was not after that. But then her dog ran out because someone left the door open and everyone went out to find it and..."

Kurt's mind channels out the boy's non-stop talking as he stares at the name on his phone. M/n. He knows this guy from somewhere. But he just can't figure out where. He dives real deep into his memory, but can't find anything.

He looks into the rear view mirror and stares at M/n for a moment. Not to be creepy, but as if trying to solve the puzzle. Solve the puzzle.

While their parent's chat away, incoherent to their little ears, the two boys sit on the floor, rummaging through a pile of puzzle pieces to try and complete it. There are only few pieces layed out already. Neither of them can seem to figure out what next.

"Kurt, seriously, kid? You got the right piece in your hand." His dad says, pointing at where it should go. All the parents look his way. A small Kurt looks at the piece in his hand and looks at the floor. He fits it in place, looking rather proud of himself after. The small M/n looks just as proud of him, like he's just changed the world.

M/n! Kurt smiles to himself as he remembers his childhood friend. He looks in the rear view mirror again. He wants to tell him about it, but M/n just keeps on going on. It's like he doesn't stop. Kurt hears a slight pause and quickly jumps in.

"Hey, uh! I think I know you." Kurt says quickly, not wanting to let M/n start rambling again. He glances over his shoulder at him with a smile, hoping he remembers.

"...I don't think so, man." M/n replies, looking directly at Kurt, as if to try and remember his face.

"I think so." Kurt replies. "When we were kids... we went to school together... our parents were friends.. but I moved away. Kurt!"

M/n's face changes very quickly. "Woah! Oh my god, Kurt? Like, Kunkle? No way!"

"See, I told you!"

"Wow, I couldn't even recognise you. Sorry about that, man." M/n laughs, more out of embarrassment. Kurt shrugs, not taking any offence to it. "I guess it's the hair..?"

"It's all good. I wouldn't recognise me either, so it's okay."

Kurt runs around the garden, searching every perimeter. He spots a bush rustle, and he narrows his eyes. He slowly approaches, grabbing a toy sword on the way to prod at the bush. It rustles again, and Kurt giggles.

"Are you in there?" Kurt asks, sticking the sword further in. The "ow!" That comes from the bush proves him right. Kurt lowers down and crawls into the bush. He finds M/n curled up inside. He playfully gives him a push.

"Found ya!" Kurt exclaims, curling up with M/n in the bush. "It's nice in here, isn't it?"

"I don't really wanna leave." M/n nods in agreement.

"We could stay here forever." Kurt suggests, confidence in his gentle voice. "My parents can have the house, it's fine."

"Really? That sounds so fun!" M/n replies excitedly. They both giggle, Kurt's dirty blond hair becoming ruffled by the lose twigs. "Boys! Dinner is ready!" It's Kurt's mother.

"Shh! shh! shh!" "Quiet!"

Kurt had pulled over somewhere, anywhere, it doesn't matter. He's climbed into the back so he can catch up with M/n after so long.

"So what brings you to Azusa?" Kurt asks.

"I moved out, but it's more affordable here, so..." M/n shrugs.

"You have your own place!? That's crazy, man. I'm still at my parents'." Kurt replies, scratching the back of his neck.

"It's crazy we're not living in a Bush together, right?" M/n jokes.

"Oh my god! You remember that?" Kurt laughs. "We were so sure we'd stay out there forever."

"The rain kinda put me off, to be honest." M/n chuckles.

The laughter dies down, and they're left with a silence. Not exactly awkward, but unreadable. Neither can quite tell what's going on as they stare into each other's eyes.

"I missed you." Kurt admits, breaking the silence. What he intended to say was "How's life treating you?" . But, his mouth has betrayed him.

M/n is flattered. He doesn't know how to react at first, just making sounds between a laugh and a heavy exhale. "I missed you, too."

Kurt stands by his family car as he stares into M/n's eyes. Tears have already escaped down his face. His parents are moving back and forth from the house to the trunk with bags.

"You're leaving?" M/n is crying now, too.

"I didn't know." Kurt admits, wiping his eyes with his sleeve.

"You can't leave.."

"I'm sorry!" Kurt cries out as they both dash into each other's arms, sobs escaping from both of them. Kurt's parents awkwardly try to step around them as they hug and cry for what seems to be a little too long.

"C'mon, kid. We're going." Kurt's dad says, opening the door and nodding towards it to try and get Kurt to hurry up.

Kurt looks back to M/n. It's the hardest decision of his life so far, even when it's not a decision that he can even make. He can't choose to stay, as much as he wants to. He slowly steps back from M/n, their arms falling limp from each other.

"I'll never forget you." Kurt promises.

"I won't forget you either."

"I'll find you. I know I will." He says, looking over his shoulder as he gets in the car. Kurt's dad slams the door shut, and gets in the car, too. The car gradually starts to drive into the distance, but M/n chases after as fast as his little legs can carry him. Which, ultimately, is not very fast. He trips over a pothole and hits the asphalt on his forearms and chest. He lifts his head in a whip, not caring about the physical pain, but the emotional.

He makes eye contact with Kurt through the back window as the car disappears from sight.

"I, uh– Really don't wanna say goodbye again, y'know. So I was wondering.." Kurt murmurs quietly, feeling too awkward to spit the words out he needs.

"Are you gonna ask for my number?" M/n said it for him, which is a huge relief. Kurt points and nods.

"Yeah, that!"

"I'd love for you go have it." M/n assures, making sure Kurt doesn't feel nervous about this. They exchange numbers and save their contacts, making sure they've got it right before anything else.

"Haha... uh... maybe we could go out sometime?" Kurt questions.

"Like a date?"

"Like a date, yeah!"

The boys had snuck into M/n's sister's room. It's much different to their usual hangout spots, but they're too young to care.

Kurt sits at the small, child's table, pushing a teddy bear out the way, and M/n sits opposite. They pretend to sip tea from the empty teacups, discussing all sorts of things that go on in their underdeveloped minds.

"I brought you to this restaurant to ask you something." M/n says, getting off the chair and standing by the table. He slowly sinks onto one knee. "Kurt, will you marry me?" He asks with a haribo ring.

Kurt feigns an overdramatic gasp. He nods. "Yes, yes, yes!" He stands from the table and M/n puts the ring on the wrong finger, but neither notice. They jump about, holding onto each other.

"What are you boys so happy about?" M/n's mother asks as she enters to put some clothes away into the sister's wardrobe.

"I'm gonna marry Kurt!" "We're getting married!"

"That's nice, boys."

#kurt kunkle #kurt kunkle x reader #kurt kunkle x male reader #joe keery #Spotify

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first-edition · 1 year

Text

Frost Bitten

Smut-day 7

Duncan vizla x reader.

Sum- You decide to surprise your husband with an early Christmas present after a day of work.

CW- smut, 18+ themes and language, p in v, dom! Duncan, window sex, age gap, short oral male receiving.”

The familiar sound of the black truck pulls into the drive way. You smile as you look out the window your husband coming home from a 3 day long work trip.

You watch as he hops out of the car holding a box and some grocery bags. He walks up the stairs seeing you waiting for him makes him smile a nod.

You run to the door opening it for you immediately wrapping your arms around his neck kissing him. He kisses you back. Trying not to drop everything hes holding.

“hold on. Hold on.” He chuckles placeing down the grocery’s.

“I’ve gotten you a present.” he says you frown as he holds out the box to you. Inside you see theres a French bulldog.

“oh!” You gasp smiling at the little thing.

“some girl was giving him away in town i know how much you like the frenchies.” He says.

You smile picking up the dog in your arms.

“what’s his name?” You ask.

“he dosnt have one.” He says.

“well rusty now you do.” You name him on the spot.

“i have a present for you as well.” You say “close your eyes, you demand he sighs and listens closing his eye as. The other is gone and concealed under the eyepatch.

You put rusty down to explore the house and pull off your shirt and take off your pants. Revealing the red and white lacy langerie set.

“okay. Open” you reply he listens

“merry Christmas Duncan.” You say the air shirt as he steps towards you his cold hands meeting your bare waist.

“fuck..” he huffs. “i-it’s not much but I wanted to surprise you with-” he cuts you off kissing you you meet his pace kissing him back. He pulls off his trench coat and boots. He pulls you up into his arms as your legs wrap around his waist.

His hands wander your waist and thigh as he sets you on the side table in front of the window. His kisses move from your lips to your neck and chest. His hand holds the back of your hand in place as he makes his way to your neck finding your sweet spot. His other hand trails to your stomach find your puss he maneuvers his fingers between your thighs only to be met with the crotchless part of the set.

He growls in your nape and pulls back for a second to take off his sweater and undo his pants. Your hands wander his chest and back keeping yourself entertained as he undresses.

His erection is sprung free to your liking you place kisses along his neck and chest hopping off the table to move to your knees meeting his dick to you face. Taking it in one hand. You begin stroking his shaft causing him you sharply inhale. Making you smirk at his reaction to you.

You open your mouth sticking out your tounge running it up the vein on his cock. Mouth fucking him.

His fingers entangle themself in your hair. As he moans under you. he’s missed you and you know it the way he touches you and lets you take over.

You can feel him twitch in your mouth before he pulls you up to him kissing you and pulling you up back onto the side table.

He enters you beginning to fuck you without warning as pornographic moans leave your mouth.

“I want to cum in your cunt not you mouth.” He growls in your ear. He pushes you down pulling your hip closer to him as he thrusts roughly into you. You grab onto the edge of the table feeling yourself clench around his dick making his moan out to you.

Your climax hits you as you arch your back.

“ah f-fuck Duncan!” You moan out as he leans do to you kissing you and mesaging your breasts over stimulating you. Arching you back changes the angle of him fucking you making him spill his cum inside your cunt.

Sloppy thrusts follow as he let you both come down from your high.

“best present ever.” He says kissing your fore head letting his hand run down the fabric once more his erection growing once more.

#duncan vizla x reader #duncan vizla #duncan x reader #duncan vizla x reader smut #polar smut #polar x reader

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girlsneedff · 4 months

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AOT Men and Nicki Minaj Songs

Armin, Connie, Eren, Jean, Onyakopan, Reiner headcanons with reader

SFW & NSFW - Minors and Ageless blogs please leave this alone

ARMIN A. - Good Form

You were always confused why the fuck your friend would talk about his exes begging for him back, wildin about what he’s doin. He always seemed so embarrassed about it when his phone would be blowing up while you guys were out with friends. Once, he asked you to grab his phone, and a message came up. Usually, you wouldn’t look too deep into his phone- but it happened to be open to a chat from a girl. You almost dropped the damn shit.

It was a video. He was eatin the fuck out of some girl’s kat. The way that he was lookin up at the camera with those dazed eyes. His tongue lolled, forearms wrapped around her shaking legs- damn. Then went right back to work all while this girl is screaming in the back ground. Your hand went to your mouth so fast.

She texted:

“I miss you. Don’t tell me you don’t miss this too.”

He replied:

“Please leave me alone! And delete that video, it’s embarrassing…”

That lil dweeb is a freak-

You shut his phone off and hurried up to give it to him, trying to make your lack of eye contact seem normal. Especially since Good Form was playing in the background now. Specifically: “And when he eat the cookie, he got good form”

CONNIE S. - Beez in the Trap

Yk that goofy ass dance that 2 Chainz does behind Nicki? Yea that’s Connie. All the time. Every day. And you’ll feel his presence- just acting stupid behind you- but it’s best to not give him the attention. He comes with you to the beauty supply? Bein a weirdo. Payin at the grocery store? He’s moonwalking behind you, alarming the poor cashier. He’s lucky he’s cute.

“Connie if you don’t quit shakin ass behind me and act normal, thank you.”

“I’m not doing anything.. you must be imagining things.” He says, as he ‘subtly’ slinks back to his spot on your left.

The corner store cashier is just sick of it all today.

EREN Y. - Starships

He heard it for the first time while he was waiting in your room for you to get ready. Too embarrassed to ask you what the song was, he shazamed it, and now acts like he found it on his own.

If he’s not the one driving- he’s sticking his head out the window or standing up in the sun roof just feeling the breeze whilst belting this song. He’s lucky that there’s people to hold his legs, cuz homeboy would have been flew out of the car. It’s his favorite song ever- and he’ll say it proudly. He’s not about to let people shit on his tastes. This man is prideful- he dgaf what anyone says.

“Yeagar if you stick an appendage out the window, you might as well lose it cuz I’m not saving you anymore.”

JEAN K. - Your Love

Real suave guy. And the girls he pull is a testament to that. He views himself as a knight in shining armor. He thinks he’s the samurai in the music video… Ever since one of his lovers showed him the song, he’s resonated with it.

They ask if he knows a Nicki song- he says this one. Then Eren proceeds to dog him for it.

He tries to defend himself- swears Nicki is talkin about him. That’s where you have to check him.

“Boy- she is talk about a man with waves and a durag. Get serious before you piss me off.”

ONY - Needles

Drives a Maybach. Blaring music with the car bounce. Everybody wants to carpool with him, and he usually lets them (except for Connie, cuz he spilt Fanta Orange in his shit just after he came back from getting his car detailed). He definitely fucks people in his back seat. Just because of the fact that it’s a Maybach and he can get away with it- when the car is bouncing, people will never know if he’s getting his rocks off, or if he’s just flexing.

As soon as Pink Friday 2 dropped, and you played the song during a carpool somewhere, he now plays it at least 10 times a day. Full blast. Maybach bouncing off the walls.

“Boy nothing about you is shy. And at this point, your life’s a pile of needles-”

You begrudgingly get in shotgun, and say hi to everyone in the back.

REINER B. - Roman Holiday

Hb is crazy let’s not forget. He’s a workaholic. Came home stressed from work, and his just ranting and raving, and you tryna be the good partner, you’re tryna soothe him. Whether it be suggesting therapy, giving him head, or cuddling, man needs to chill.

This song is just his mental when he’s going through his day to day. I don’t even think that he would know what the fuck this song is, let alone know any of Nicki’s work (shameful).

“I don’t have any medication. Are you saying I should see a psychiatrist? And who the hell is Roman?”

“…it’s a Nicki song. Roman Holiday.”

“I’ve never heard of that song, or that artist.”

“Oh… this is real sad.”

#aot onyankopon #aot #eren yeager #armin arlert #connie springer #reiner braun #onyankapon #aot fanfiction #black reader #aot headcanons #aot x black reader

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