#you can just see the realisation hit Miles | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

messylustt · 10 months

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We need more touchy & needy Hobie who has feelings for his friend (she's the prettiest girl in! the! world! and his eyes akhxsj) i can imagine him being that type who brags a lot about her too lol (but he's not with her.....yet, he's just crushing very hard)

my girl — hobie brown. longer name. your best friend, hobie, is a protective bastard.

you were laying back against the couch, busy glaring at the tv. hobie walked in, a slight tilt to his head as he moved towards you. “please don’t hit it.” you shift your gaze to hobie sighing. “it’s not the tv i’m pissed at. it’s him.” you gesture to the actor on tv. “i mean can he be any more oblivious?” hobie bites down on his lower lip chuckling at your furrowed brows. he jumps down into a seat beside you, fingers reaching to smooth out the wrinkles on your forehead. you swat his hand away, and his eyes narrow. “i’m only tryna help.”

“with what?” you give him a side glance. his fingers shift back to grab your chin. “just makin’ sure you don’ grow too old, too fast.” you narrow your gaze on him, scoffing at his ‘wrinkles equal old’ joke. “and here I thought you were into older woman.” hobie scoffs, shifting slightly closer to you on the couch, arm moving to rest behind you.

“not that old. i prefer the forty to fifty age range.” you jab his side with your elbow, making him chuckle, slightly doubling over. “what time is it?” you suddenly ask, seeming to just realise how dark it had gotten outside.

“‘bout eight.” he comments, his hand moving to fiddle “absentmindedly” with your shirt — arm having to move further around you to do it. “eight? shit, i should go.” you move to stand, but hobie pulls you back down by a now permanent arm around your shoulders. you slightly fall back into him, the back of your head hitting his chest, as you feel it rumble in a chuckle.

you grab his wrist, preparing to move his hand, but hobie just pulls you closer. “jus’ stay ‘ere tonight. i don’ mind.”

“i should be getting back to my own universe.” you say, trying and failing again to move his arm. “hobie.”

“nah they won’t miss you.” he says, hand now rubbing the material of your collar between his calloused fingers. “that was nicely put, hobie.” you sarcastically say, twisting so that you can see him, but his hold still doesn’t let up.

“mhm.” he hums, a wide grin on his face as he catches your gaze. “you’re being clingy…” you narrow your gaze. he feigns innocence. “am i?” he wraps his other arm around your waist, pulling you even closer, making your breathing hitch a fraction. you quickly place your hands on his chest, so that you physically couldn’t get any closer. “yes. and it’s…weird.”

“weird? and here i thought ya were a nice and accepting girl.” his teasing smile hasn’t left. your tongue pokes out against your cheek, as you push farther away from him, finally managing to stand. hobie holds back from grabbing you again, having liked having his friend that close. his…friend.

that’s all you were, or all you saw him as. he saw different. he liked sparing you touches, and disliked when you would inevitably leave his hands. yeah, he knows you need to protect your universe but sometimes he wishes he could be a bit more selfish with you.

;;

when you were in groups, say with pav, gwen, miles and peter. hobie would have an arm wrapped around your shoulder. or when you all would sit, he’d make sure you were sat beside him, tugging your suit closer if necessary. the others found it rather sweet, how whenever you couldn’t make a ‘hang out’ being on a mission or something alike, hobie would use the time to talk you up. saying things like “yeah, did ya see y/n the other day? one of the best swingers i know.”

“didn’t y/n win that one? yeah i think she did.” he’s always been there to brag about you, but when someone else found a place to compliment you — especially if it’s the guy whose been eyeing you — hobie would use the terms ‘ma girl this’ ‘ma girl that’. “ma girl could have done better.” and everyone would know who he was talking about.

so, maybe he did have a little crush on you, maybe he wanted to get the spiders who paid extra attention fired. and maybe he liked your entire attention only on him. to anyone new you two would seem together with how hobie talks about you, but no, you’re ‘just friends’.

;;

hobie grins when you walk into HQ, but a frown soon forms when he sees how battered up you look. rushing past the others he reaches your side, grabbing your chin. you slightly startle at his fast movements. “oh, just a hard mission. i’m fine.” but hobie doesn’t loosen his grip, actually slipping his large hand further around you as he forces you to sit.

“what happened?” gwen asks, all of them having moved towards you after hobie. “just a mission. i’m fine though.” you somewhat chuckle, trying to stand again. “sit down.” hobie states, leaving no room for argument as he inspects your face full of cuts, his frown not lifting.

“hobie.” you move to grab his hand, but he only tightens it. your brows slightly furrow at his clear concern. you weren’t that badly injured, nothing life threatening. but to hobie it was the prospect of it, it could have been life threatening. “let me come next time.” he says, catching your gaze.

“you don’t have to — ” but he cuts you off. “i’m coming next time.” he sounds more sure of himself, as he grabs you into a stance. bringing you to the medical room, even after your protests of ‘i’m fine’. it goes in one ear and out the other, hobie just sitting you down as he mends your cuts, waving off the medical spiders.

“i feel like i should be flattered.” you slightly chuckle, as he tilts your head how he wants. “yeah, you should be.” he says, dabbing at a cut on your lip. “look at all this attention i’m giving you.” you chuckle, mouth opening a fraction. hobie shifts closer to you on the medical bed, hand moving to hold part of your ear and hair as he makes sure he got every cut.

“what is with all this…attention anyway?” you ask, forcing him to meet your gaze. “we’re friends aren’t we?” he asks, still not removing his hand from your face. “yeah, but…you’re acting….” you drift off brows furrowing. hobie shifts his fingers to smooth the lines on your forehead. “remember: forty to fifty age range.”

you raise your brows. “then i’m in the clear.” hobie licks at his lip ring. “not quite.” he mutters. you tilt your head, as hobie’s fingers leave your face by drifting down your skin, stopping by the cut on your lip. you both freeze at the movement, his touch sending shivers down your spine. “does it hurt?” you shrug. “more of a sting.”

“hm.” hobie hums absentmindedly, his gaze caught up in the cut. at first even he doesn’t realise how close he’s moving. your eyes slightly widen, as you lose your breath.

hobie moves closer a small tilt to his head, as his breath then fans over your bottom lip — over your cut. and then before either of you can say a word more, hobie’s lips are slowly wrapping around your lower lip, his tongue poking out to brush right along your cut, soothing the wound with his spit.

his hand has moved to your hair, a tighter grip accompanying. he draws back a fraction, your bottom lip now wet. hobie can’t help as his tongue comes back out to soothe at your cut again, dragging all the way across your lower lip, and stopping when he’s hovering over your entire mouth, tongue so close to slipping in. you feel lightheaded, as your grip has moved to his jacket, but hobie seems in a daze of his own.

“i jus’…it looked…” and he swiftly pulls you closer, hand now weaved completely into your hair as he slips his tongue into your mouth, lips connecting with yours as his head tilts for better access. “yeah…jus’ looked sore…” he pushes harder against your mouth, his hand slipping to grab your waist. ‘friends’ can now officially be used loosely, as hobie’s eager mouth takes ownership of yours.

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princessbrunette · 5 months

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could you do stepbro!rafe with a breeding kink?

LOCKED IN ♡

cw: stepcest, smut, breeding, pregnancy mention, rafe calls you ‘little sis’ once.

It was totally, utterly unfair.

You were picky, picky when it came to food— separating the dry from the wet on your plate with your fork, picky with your clothes — needing the pinks to be the perfect cool tone. Picky with the way you organised your bed, needing the decorative cushions and copious amounts of stuffed animals to be organised in a specific manner in order to feel satisfied. Most importantly, you were picky with your men. It took a lot for you to feel a spark, most of the men you encountered just not even breaching your impossibly high standards.

So why, oh why — did you have to pick your step-brother?

He wasn’t even perfect, not by a long mile. He was aggressive, rude, stuck up, all things you pride yourself on not being. He had a reputation of causing problems, fighting pogues, engaging in scream-offs with his father. But, Rafe Cameron was gorgeous. An innocent smile despite it all, broad, tall and built, grab-able hair.

You hadn’t even realised you’d had a handful of it between your tense fingers until he groaned against your mouth, cock resting against your sodden cunt, sliding against your folds with each buck of his hips. The two of you had snuck upstairs during the infamous Midsummers party, white sundress bunched up around your waist, thin wiry flowercrown fallen, laying beside a teddy bear wearing a sweater at the head of your bed.

He’d been making eyes at you all night, much to your dismay after you’d told him to pinky promise you that he’d try and refrain from engaging in any stepcestual shenanigans at such a family affair. You recall the way he sighed when you’d asked, stepping up to you as if to impose his height on you, plastering a purposely fake smile on his face, eyes crinkling at the corners and holding up the requested finger.

“Pinky swear.” He rasps in that low, intimate tone. Everything was a seduction technique with him, god — whatever, it was working. You hooked your finger happily enough around his anyway probably sporting a big goofy smile. Any excuse to touch him you’d take.

He grinds his shaft against your heat as he practically has you pinned to your bed, legs helpless around his waist. You shudder and whine when his tip catches your clit. “Do pinky promises mean nothing to you?” You shiver, infinitely hypocritical and careless as you buck your hips for more. He chuckles at this, leaning back so he can line himself up with your entrance.

“Doesn’t look like you’re complaining.” He retorts, giving your hip a comforting squeeze before sliding himself in. You go to let out a moan but he warns you with his fingers softly brushing your lips. “Uh-uh.” He whispers. He’s right, can’t get caught.

Soon enough you have tears pooling at the corners of your eyes from your restraint, eyes all big and desperate as he works his rhythm against you, hips grinding and slamming until you’re seeing stars. He gets so concentrated, like he’s working out whilst he fucks you, his mouth hung a little open, eyes focused on your body and what he’s doing. Forget the short pathetic whimpers leaving you, with each thrust the bed creaks loud and fast in an unmistakable rhythm that one who passed your room could only know exactly what’s going down.

It doesn’t take long before you’re cumming, hard. You’re not sure what it is, aside from him whispering “Good girl, keep taking it.” In your ear with his lips brushing your jawline. You’d decided the shape of his cock must be designed perfectly for your insides, and hits the perfect spot— because it’s not like he did that much to get you to cum that hard.

You get all silly and brain dead whenever you cum, and this time it was awful. It must have been the summer heat getting to your head or the glass of wine you’d downed when you’d seen the way Rafe was openly ogling you at a family event, because you lock your feet around his back, not letting him leave you. You’d been clenching so hard when you came that he’d had to take a breather, his weight falling on top of you a bit more as he groaned something along the lines of “Shit, g’nna make me cum too.” into your temple. Completely fuck drunk, you whine out—

“Want it inside please. Cum inside.” Desperate and pleadingly, arms wrapped around his neck and feet still locked to keep him inside you. He pauses for a moment, so that he doesn’t blow his load there and then before pulling back. He’s stronger than you by a long shot, so he’s got your arms off him in no time, pinning you so hard to the bed, putting his weight on you to the point you think you might fall through it. He looks angry at first, and you think maybe you’ve messed up, staring up at him through hazy, tearful doe eyes. His expression twists to something more amused, a malicious smile twitching at his lips as he stares at you almost pityingly. Then he starts to slowly grind inside.

“Thats real sick, baby. You know that right? Wanting me t’cum inside you?” He huffs out a snicker, shaking his head as he adjusts his grip on your hips. “I mean can you imagine?” He presses inside, deep as he can go, his tip kissing your cervix with force and just staying there, throbbing against it. You whine, too sensitive, too much. “Knocking up my sweet little sis? The look on everyone’s face when they realise that big bad scary Rafe has been ploughing this pretty little pussy behind closed doors?” He starts moving again, pushing your knees up to your chest once he’d broken free from your locked in position. “How would it look if you showed up to the next family function with a swollen tummy, baby?” He babies you, talking to you like you’re stupid and rubbing a big hand over your stomach soothingly. You flutter around him, worsening things. “Better yet, leaving this room and going back to the party with my cum all in your panties.” He squints one eye in fake disgust before shaking his head in fake disapproval, lips pouted as he tuts three times. “Gonna get me in trouble, beautiful.”

He presses his body to yours again, thrusts speeding up and the sound of the creaking bed smacking the wall returns, as to your sensitive mewls. “But if that’s really what you want...” He finishes sinisterly, holding you down when you squirm and fucking you until he’s groaning, pumping his load inside.

#rafe cameron smut #tw stepcest #stepbro!rafe #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron drabble

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deadgirlkisses · 10 months

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guess who's out of the shackles of writer's block? yup, me! anyway. this came to me randomly after seeing a tiktok based off of this career so yeah have thisヾ(•ω•`)o

cw: this can be read as either miles 1610! or miles 42!, black and fem reader, idk tbh but this has been proofread idk how many times :(, a shoutout to the line of work mentioned!

thinking about being miles' pinkish wifey, adorned in the cutest charms and fits, aromatized in the sweetly scented perfumes, and him being her supporter, always praising her for everything she could do, academics, hobbies, even with his hair ♡

ever since he found out about you being able to braid, retwist and do styles on his hair type, he was in love. what he didn't expect was the fact that you could literally cut & style hair. you were a female barber that got to cut hair for a few extra bucks spent on some lip glosses!

instead of hitting up his neighbouring barber shop in brooklyn, he calls you up, eager to know whether your free to hang out. it's a good time too since you've been noticing the way his hair's been growing out and wanted to do a lil' tweak on it.

" you see how it is right now? " " you're hair's grown since last time, omg! " " mmh, i know, i really wanna cut it but i don't know how i want it " " want me to do it for you? " " suena bien. adelante, princesa "

( " sounds good. go ahead, princess " )

meeting with him was always easy, you taking a quick stroll as you listened to some music, or him coming over to yours really quickly since he didn't want to keep you waiting. but this time, you had invited him over to yours to do the style you had seen as best for him.

he reaches to your home, reaching your bedroom, he sat on your reclinable chair he oh so loved and as comfortable as he needed while you laid your rilakkuma shoal on him, getting ready to make a skin line for the guidelines using your trimmer as you two talked about all the most random topics out there.

" i got the new jordan's but they were so expensive and for what, like, what else must a girl have to suffer from :( " " they look dumb as hell, i like mine better " " i'll shave your ear off, i know you're just saying that cuz you wanted us to match " " me conoces demasiado bien "

( " you know me too well " )

as you shaved and styled his hair, he watched in your mirror as it had come out elegantly, a perfect afro taper fade that accentuated his face too well, his confidence increasing a tenfold, thinking it was done until he saw your face, scrunched up and concentrated. he left himself on that seat as he saw you continue working on the back of his head, what were you doing?

" ¿qué haces ahí, mami? " " a lil' something, no worries, it looks good, you'll see ♡ "

( " what you doing there, mami? " )

you brush his head for any hair that hadn't moved off his head as you're nails slightly brushed past his skin until you finally remove the shoal, allowing him to freely stand up. while you clean your equipment, he takes out his phone, immediately going to his camera and letting his back face the mirror as he records his movements only to find himself shocked while watching the video back.

there it was, trimmed away, a cute design connecting with an initial that he quickly realised had been from your name, ended off with a heart. looking at you, he watched in adoration, his girlfriend, showing everyone he's hers without having to physically be there with him to show really got him, it got him good.

" you like it, love? " " so that's what you were doing at the back of my head, huh? " " it looks adorable doesn't it? " " se ve bien, pero se ve mejor con su nombre en ella ♡ "

( '' it looks good, but it looks better with your name on it ♡ " )

-xoxo, rue ♡

#rue rantz #black girl blogger #miles morales x reader #hobie brown x reader #miles morales x you #miles morales x y/n #prowler x reader #miles morales #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara x reader #pavitr prabhakar x reader #gwen stacy x reader #prowler miles #miles x reader #atsv #atsv x black reader #atsv x reader #hobie x reader

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13keithxpidge13 · 11 months

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OH OH ! and miles wanting to count all of hobies piercings because hobie didnt remember how many he had (or even miles didnt ask and just started counting out of nowhere and surprises hobie hehehe) .. getting up really close to his face and noticing how pink hobie got . realising that he gets pink like that when he gets close to miles ....

"Have you noticed it at all?" Gwen asks him and Miles hums as he colors in his sketchbook.

They're sitting on top of one of the ledges in the Spider-Society HQ, chilling and relaxing as they wait for another mission to be announced. For now, Miles is biding his time by sketching.

Beside him, Gwen huffs and jostles his shoulder and Miles curses as he messes up his newest drawing.

"Gwen!" He shouts.

"I'm asking you a question," She laughs as he erases the imperfect line. "Have you noticed how Hobie changes colors?"

"Yeah," He gruffs out. "Why does it matter?"

"It doesn't," She says. "But...haven't you noticed how he changes color based on how he's feeling and that he goes pink around, well, /you/? And, /only/ you?"

"What are you talking about?" Miles glances at her with a raised eyebrow. "No he doesn't."

Gwen scoffs. "Yeah. He does."

"no he doesn't."

"he does."

"no!"

"yes!"

"Gweeennn," Miles whines and slaps his hands over his face as his cheeks darken at the implications of what she's saying. "Don't give me hope."

"I'm just saying," Gwen laughs. "It's pretty obvious."

Miles grumbles and glances away from her as he crosses his arms over his chest. "...I guess..." He mumbles and Gwen leans closer, humming. Miles puffs out his cheeks. "I suppose I /have/ noticed-"

"aHA!" Gwen shakes him and Miles breaks out into giggles. "I knew it! He sooooo has a crush on you! He likes you back, Miles, it's soooo obvious!"

"It's not!" He protests. "He's so indifferent I can never tell!"

"Well," Gwen smiles. "Why don't you try to catch him in the act? Make him bend to your cuteness and charm!" She teases as she pulls at his cheeks. "C'mon, I'll even help you!"

"But, how would we even do that in the first place?" Miles laughs at her poking. "It's not like I can just go up and /ask him/, he'll probably deny it! And, oh, maybe that will make him realize that /I/ like him! Gah! I can't!"

"You won't have too," Gwen reassures. "Just make him turn pink around you, do something that'll get him flustered and confront him about why he turns pink whenever you're around! Surely that'll lead to a love confession!"

Miles huffs in embarrassment and scratches at his sore cheeks that were whining from being pulled. "Oh, alright," He sighs. "But, /you/ have to help set up a time to do this!"

Gwen grins cheekily and pulls out her watch to message Hobie.

"Already on it."

"Uhm, thanks for coming over, man."

"Yeah, no problem, mate. Needed an excuse to leave my dimension fo' awhile anyhow."

Miles chuckles and tries to hide his nervousness as they both enter his room through the window he left open, being careful not to make too much noise as his parents were probably cooking dinner and he didn't want to disturb them.

They sit on his bed and a few moments of awkward silence passes by before Hobie bumps their shoulders together.

"somethin' you needed from me personally? Or did ya' just wan' hang out?"

"uh," Miles coughs and laughs nervously. "Well, uhm, I guess, uh-" He tries to come up with an excuse other than /I wanted to see you turn pink/, and then it hits him. "I, uh, I wanted to draw you!" He shouts and immediately curses himself for it.

Hobie blinks at him largely before laughing. "Ah, I see," He nods. "Ya' wanted a reference for ya' sketches? Well, all ya' had to do was ask, babe."

Miles laughs awkwardly and blindly grabs for his sketchbook which is on his bed.

"Uhm, okay," He brags as he holds his pencil shakily. "Can you uhm, can you turn so I can see your face? I need, uh, I need to get your facial structure right."

Hobie grins. "Sure, honey," He says and turns according to how Miles wants him too.

A few minutes pass while miles glances up and down, looking back up and down at him to make sure he's getting his face as accurate as possible. He gets so into drawing him that, when he glances up and sees the piercings on his face, he blinks.

"Oh," Miles deadpans and Hobie tilts his head.

"Hm?"

"Oh, uhm, well," Miles flushes. "I just, I noticed that you have a lot of piercings...I noticed it before but uh...you have a lot more than I thought."

Hobie grins cheekily.

"Ya' wanna count 'em?" He asks and Miles giggles nervously.

"Uhm, I might need too..." He says. "I wanna uh, I wanna get everything as accurate as possible."

"Mhm," Hobie hums. "I'm sure. Go ahead, love."

He had multiple piercings on his ears, on his eyebrows, on his nose...

Miles gets in closer even though his heart is racing and reaches up to touch his chin. "You've got one on your bottom lip, too?" He asks, tilting his head and attempting to remain calm. "It's big. Doesn't it hurt?"

Hobie's breathing echoes throughout his ear. "Nah, babe," Hobie laughs but it seems a little off. "Hurt at first but, uh, goes away after a lil' time."

"Yeah?" Miles brushes his fingers against his bottom lip and Hobie nearly jumps out of his skin.

Instead, his body goes /bright pink/ and Miles twitches.

"Fuck-" Hobie curses and stands up from the bed. "Sorry, fuck, sorry," He brushes his hands down his vest as though he were trying to brush away the color. "Sorry, mate. I don't know why it fuckin' does that shit, gods-"

"You don't?" Miles asks innocently. "Gwen said it was because your body changes colors based off your emotions like everything else does in your universe."

"That's-" Hobie stops and turns, mumbling something about Gwen being a snitch before he sighs. "Yeah. It does. It's fuckin' weird like that."

"Sooo..." Miles stands beside him and tilts his body closer to him. "What does pink mean? Because you go pink around me a /lot/, I've noticed. What is it? I won't make fun of you, dude."

Hobie's quiet, exhaling loudly through his mouth as he turns away and his cheeks seem to darken even further.

Miles' brows furrow. Come on. He has to /know/-

Hobie leans his head back and sighs once more.

"It's 'cause..." He swallows and scratches the back of his neck. "It's 'cause...I like ya', mate. Not in the bullshit platonic way either. Like, in the I kinda wanna kiss ya' and take ya' out to dates and hold ya' hand and shit."

Miles feels the breath punched out of him. "You-" He can't stop the wide smile that etches across his face. "Really?"

Hobie runs a hand down his face and mumbles; "Well, yeah..."

Miles almost jumps and down with joy until Hobie continues;

"I'm sorry, mate," He says. "I know it's prolly weird, ain't it? I don't wanna make ya' uncomfortable, love. If ya' want me gone, I'll leave, y'know? Just say the word, mate, and I'll be gone-"

"No!" Miles grabs onto him instinctively and Hobie jumps at it. "Don't go! You misunderstood me!"

"Wha-what?" Hobie stutters. "What're you talkin' 'bout?"

"You-I-" Miles felt his cheeks darken. He sputters for a moment and nearly lets go of Hobie's hand before the elder teen grasps at his fingers again so he couldn't get very far. Miles licks his lips and feels impossibly flustered.

"Miles?" Hobie leans forward, obviously concerned and curious. "What did you mean?"

"I just-" Miles turns his head away and Hobie shakes his head. "It's nothing-"

"nuh, uh, sweetheart," Hobie's smiling now. He's grinning from ear to ear and gently turns Miles to face him again and the younger teen is impossibly red. "Somethin' ya' wanna tell me? Like how I told you?"

Miles licks his lips and their eyes meet. Suddenly, a surge of confidence overtakes him and Miles grins.

"You wanna know what I meant?" He stands on his tip toes. "I'll show you."

He locks lips with Hobie and the punk grunts with it.

Miles grabs a hold of the back of his neck so he can force the elder teen to dip forward so Miles can get a better grip on him and he hums as Hobie licks at his lips

Hands grab at his waist and Miles squeals when he realizes how /big/ Hobie's hands are, how perfect they fit around him and his small hips. It makes shivers run up his spine like electricity and Hobie chuckles against his tongue as their muscles dances together.

Then, their lips part and a string of slick saliva is all that connects them.

Miles pants for air and knows his cheeks are flushed impossibly dark. Hobie leans forward again and kisses both cheeks, peppering his skin with soft slick kisses that have his breath hitching.

"Finally," Hobie murmurs. "Yer so fuckin' cute, love. So cute to kiss me like that."

Miles pouts. "It wasn't meant to be /cute/, man! It was supposed to be hot! I wasn't cute, I was /hot/," He whines and Hobie kisses his nose with a chuckle.

"Yes, yes, of course," He coos and Miles scoffs.

"Agree with me!"

"I am!"

"You're not!"

Hobie merely laughs and kisses him again, successfully silencing him.

#punkflower #miles morales #hobie brown #gwen stacy #across the spiderverse

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percervall · 9 months

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sometimes you break so beautiful

Pairing: Carlos Sainz jr x fem!reader Words: 1800 Warnings: Ferrari being Ferrari, smut, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, light choking, so many alliterations

In which Carlos just wants to forget The Belgian Grand Prix

---

The moment you see the replay of the collision between your boyfriend and Oscar, you know it’s a done race. You hear his engineer confirm the damage and the effect of it on the aerodynamics of the car and your heart sinks. This should have been his race, starting fifth but yet again you feel the quiet resignation settle in your bones when you realise Ferrari are miles away from giving these boys the car they deserve. It’s a mystery to you why they keep Carlos out on the track as he continues to slip further down, an anger blazing through you at the torture they’re subjecting him to, until they finally decide to retire the car on lap 25. All you can do is watch him climb out of his Ferrari, your hands clenched in front of your chest. You reach out a hand, brushing against his arm as he walks past you. Carlos gives your hand a squeeze without meeting your eyes, but he’s telling you all you need to know about how he’s feeling. During the remaining 19 or so laps you keep an eye on him as he shuts the world out with the Ferrari headphones and quickly debriefs his engineer in rapid Italian. He won’t show his emotions, not with all the cameras around, but you can tell by the way his jaw is set and his posture that he is suffering, quietly, waiting until he’s away from prying eyes to fall apart.

In the end, him falling apart doesn’t happen until you’re back in the hotel. Sometimes the post-race engagements and responsibilities are more exhausting than the race itself, especially with all the social media content nowadays. Charles shoots you a worried glance as the three of you exit the lift.

“I’ve got him,” you whisper, giving him a kiss on the cheek as you turn left to head to your room. Carlos has already unlocked the door to your shared hotel room and has finally found some reprieve from the public. When you shut the door behind you, you find him sat on one of the chairs, head in his hands. Taking off your coat and shoes, you make your way over to him, pulling him against you. With a shuddering breath, Carlos wraps his arms around your waist as he burrows his face against your stomach. You swallow down your own feelings about this season and run your fingers through his hair. Carlos’ shoulders shake with silent sobs as his tears soak through your shirt. This is more than just one bad race, more than a less than ideal car; This is months of fighting to be heard by the engineers, of dealing with contract uncertainties, of playing second fiddle, of being pushed past his breaking point.

“What do you need?” you murmur, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of his head.

“Help me forget.. Please, I just need to stop thinking,” comes his answer as he looks up at you, those big brown eyes glimmering with unshed tears, voice breaking. You rest your palms against his cheeks, brushing away the tears with your thumb, before leaning forward and kissing him softly.

“I’ve got you,” you whisper, echoing your promise to Charles, your heart breaking into pieces when his eyes fill with equal parts hope and heartache. Carlos allows you to pull him to his feet and move him towards the bathroom. While you turn on the shower, Carlos begins to undress. As soon as his shirt drops to the floor, he’s on you, still wearing his trousers as needy fingers find their way under your shirt, pulling it up and over. You’re quick to raise your arms, allowing him to undress you as you do the same for him in return. Taking his hand, you pull him under the spray of the shower, hissing as the hot water hits your skin. Carlos wraps his arms around your waist, pressing himself against your back as he buries his face in your neck. Turning around in his arms, you kiss him, pouring all the love you have for him into that kiss. Carlos sighs against your lips, some of the tension easing out of his tensed muscles. He makes this pained noise in the back of his throat as he moves you back until you end up against the wall. He breaks the kiss and the look he gives you steals the breath from your lungs. His lips are parted, cheeks flushing already with both the heat from the shower and arousal, but his eyes betray just how conflicted he’s feeling; there’s a mixture of trepidation and need.

“I can take it, let me carry it,” you soothe him, fingers smoothing out the lines on his face. Yet another wall seems to crumble down as he dives in for another kiss. His hand rests against your jaw as the other grips your hip. You can tell he’s holding back –there’s a fury simmering in his body now that the edge of sadness has dissipated.

“I need you to use me,” you whisper, tugging on his hair to break the kiss. He lets out the most beautiful moan at the pain and the last shred of self control snaps. Carlos tightens his grip on your hip, fingers digging into your skin as he pins you in place with his own body, trapping his now hard cock between the two of you. You can feel him throb against your stomach and it has you clenching in anticipation. Usually Carlos is a tender lover, always making sure he makes you feel so, so good. But when he gets like this –when there’s pent up frustration simmering just below the surface, he becomes the most greedy and just takes and takes and takes.

His lips find the pulsepoint behind your ear, sucking a bruise onto your skin. You hiss at the sting, tilting your head to grant him better access. Carlos hums and continues his assault, leaving hickeys and bites across your clavicle and down to the swells of your breasts. His hips thrust up as you whimper when his teeth graze over your collarbone. He slides the hand holding your hip down, parting your folds to find you already wet for him.

“Always ready for me, aren’t you?” he murmurs against your skin and all you can manage to reply is a whispered yes as he slides the tip of his finger inside of you. The intrusion has you panting, swallowing around a moan as he slowly fucks you, thumb lightly pressed against your clit. It’s enough to have you throbbing but not enough to alleviate the ache.

“Please..” you whisper, desperation already setting in. You can feel him smirk against your skin as he rubs fast circles against your clit. This is not about your pleasure, this is purely him strumming your body in preparation for what he has in store for you. The steam of the shower that’s still running makes it hard to think as lust clouds your brain the way the vapour steams up the shower screen and mirror.

“That’s it, mi vida… Let go for me,” Carlos whispers in your ear and something just snaps as you fall over the edge.

Heart still hammering against your chest, you have become putty in his hands as Carlos turns you around. The cold tile makes for a welcome contrast against your heated skin, fingers desperate to find purchase against their wet surface.

“Joder,” you hear him whisper, hands roughly kneading your cheeks. Your eyes flutter closed as you push back against him.

“Need-.. Please.. Need it..” you mumble, arching your back even more. Realistically you know this will hurt, your body not ready to accommodate his size –not like this at least– but at this point you no longer care it will ache come morning. You will gladly hurt for this stunning man, who holds both unbridled joy and brooding darkness so beautifully it makes you dizzy with how much you love him, if it means he won’t –not for a few hours at least. The stretch of him slowly entering you has you keening and you throb around him as Carlos gives you a moment to adjust.

“Fuck, so tight,” he rasps, lips against the shell of your ear. You can only nod, holding yourself up with one arm as the other comes to rest on the hand still holding your hip. Giving his wrist a squeeze you wordlessly let him know it’s okay, that you won’t break. You swear you can almost hear him grit his teeth, his grip on your body tightening as he fucks into you; long strokes at first until your body goes pliant and he does as you told him: he uses your body to fuck all his frustration out of his system. The angle allows Carlos to brush against that spot inside of you with the head of his cock, setting your body alight with pleasure. He gives you none of the usual praise, just an unrelenting pace as one of his hands wraps around your throat and pulls you flush against him. The weight of his hand is enough to have you clenching around him, your second orgasm approaching rapidly. Carlos bites down on where your shoulder meets your neck, his hips stuttering as he comes with a muffled groan. It’s enough to send you flying as well, a sob tearing itself from your throat as you come so hard, your vision blurs.

Carlos removes his hand from your throat, wrapping the arm around your chest instead as he holds you up. You let out a whimper as Carlos pulls out, allowing him to turn you back to face him and move you back under the spray of the water. As you’re coming down from your high, Carlos takes care of you, gently cleans both of you before shutting the shower off. After drying yourself, you wrap the towel around your body, twisting your still damp hair up into a messy bun. He takes your hand and both of you move to the bed, exhaustion hitting you hard. You sigh as your body relaxes into the soft sheets, Carlos’ body curling around yours as he presses himself against your back. You turn in his arms, brushing wet strands of his hair back as you look at him.

“Thank you, amor,” he whispers, pressing a kiss against your forehead.

“I love you,” you murmur back, snuggling further into your boyfriend. You know he will be apologetic in the morning when he takes stock of the bruises decorating your skin, but you will gladly become a canvas for him to process his grief and anger knowing he would offer you the same in return.

Wrote this pretty much in one sitting and it's barely edited. After struggling to write anything for the past month, this just poured out of me. Guess I need to literally suffer for my art, thanks Ferrari.

This fic existing is thanks to @curiousthyme and @moneyymaseyy, there's no one I'd rather watch F1 (suffer through Ferrari) with

Please feel free to let me know what you think, your comments, tags and likes means the absolute world to me

#f1 fanfic #carlos sainz jr x reader #carlos sainz jr x you #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz jr smut

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ladymunson · 8 months

Text

Mile High 18+

Fic summary: You Spot the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen in the business class lounge at the airport and then he happens to be on the same flight as you. Things are about to get very interesting.

A/N: This is a short one shot Drabble, there will be no additional parts. No use of y/n. No minors, shoo!

Warnings: strangers to lovers, SMUT 18+, mutual public masturbation, public nudity, airplane bathroom, unprotected sex (wrap it up!) cream pie.

Word count: 1244

I do NOT give permission for my work to be copied, translated or posted to any other platform.

Support content creators by hitting that reblog tab.

You arrive at Boston Logan airport an hour earlier than you need to, and spend time in the lounge after checking in. It’s mid evening so they offer you a glass of wine, business class sure has its perks. You take a seat at the bar and sip on your wine as people come in and out of the lounge. While waiting for your flight to be called, something catches your eye. He enters the lounge and stops, standing over by the door, his expensive suit opening up as he stretches revealing his tight and broad shoulders. He’s fucking gorgeous! And possibly the sexiest man you’ve ever laid eyes on. His beard full and luscious, his eyes a sparkling blue matching his tie.

He looks around the lounge and stops when he sees you. The top button of your white blouse is open, he catches a glimpse of cleavage, his eyes widen as he continues staring at you.

Your black skirt was short enough to reveal your thighs and he looks at your legs, the black stilettos on your feet... Hunger in his eyes. You both eye fuck each other across the lounge, he keeps his distance and doesn’t approach, at which you quickly glance down at his left hand that is holding a briefcase. He’s not wearing a wedding ring.

The flight is called so you pick up your handbag and head towards the door, brushing past him. Making sure there was a little contact. You can feel the electricity as you touched, had he felt it too? Doesn't matter you think to yourself, because you won't see him again.

You board the plane, the flight attendant pointing you the the right direction. After settling in your seat, you feel someone was standing next to you, you think it might be the flight attendant. But it isn’t... It’s him.

He smiles at you, and you return his smile.

The flight attendants go through the preflight routine which you’ve seen many times before, so you concentrate on the book you’re reading.

As the plane takes off, the rumbling of the engines starts to turn me on. A dampness in you underwear causing you to shift. You haven’t realised, but you’ve been caressing your collarbone and the contours of your breasts (you do that sometimes when you’re thinking about sex). But he’s noticed and been staring at you.

He looks a little uncomfortable; you look around to see if you can figure out why.

Then you see it...

The hard on he had been trying to conceal with his copy of 'The Boston Herald’.

You look him in the eye, and smile. A boldness building within you, so you kick off your shoes and rearrange yourself into a more comfortable position with your legs crossed. So, he can see your black lacy French panties. You pull the gusset of them side to side gently, enjoying the friction against your pussy.

His hand disappears underneath the paper and you hear the sound of a zipper.

He was stroking himself under there, and you couldn't see.

You pull your panties to one side...

For a few seconds you just let him look at your Pussy, wet and pulsing, aching for his touch but having to make do with your own.

You begin to rub your clit, gently at first but soon that wasn't enough. You raise an eyebrow, challenging him.

He lifts up the paper to show you his cock, it’s large and thick and looks like it could give you immense pleasure. His hand works up and down on his shaft, as you work mine on your Pussy. Doing this in such a public setting is so naughty but so exciting, it’s heightening the pleasure you’re feeling.

You’re seconds away from coming; he must've sensed it cos he snatches you hand away and transfers it to his cock...

When your fingers close around his warm skin, you hear him moan.

Then he throws your hand away, zips himself up, and moves out of the chair.

Why?

Disappointment must've shown on your face because he winks and nods towards the lavatory door.

You can’t follow straight away; you don’t even bother to put your shoes on when you get out of your seat and walk down the gangway towards the lavatory.

You knock lightly on the door, the door folds to one side and a strong arm pulls you in...

He’s got his pants down round his ankles, his beautiful dick standing to attention before you.

He pulls you close and kisses you, urgent and probing around in your mouth.

He sits down on the lavatory seat and pulls you towards him; he rolls your panties over your hips, and you step out of them.

You part your legs so they are either side of his lap and lift your skirt so he can see how wet you are....

You lower yourself down onto his cock, letting the head rest against your dripping cunt for a moment. You had meant to hover, teasing him but you can’t. You desperately need him inside you.

You lower yourself down, letting his cock prise open your wetness and penetrate you. Filling you up, giving you what you need.

You lift yourself and begin to pound your Pussy onto his cock, hard and fast.

He bites your hard swollen nipples through your blouse, which sends thrills through you...

One hand on the mirror steadying yourself as you bounce up and down on his cock. Your other hand on his shoulder.

You kiss again. His hands on your hips, guiding you up and down, beads of sweat rolling down your forehead.

He starts rubbing your clit making you moan, you started squeezing your cunt around his cock, making him groan as he starts to shake...

You can feel your orgasm getting closer and closer, and from the look on his face he isn’t far off either.

"The plane will begin its descent in ten minutes, please return to your seats" came over the tannoy. It was now or never, you grind your pussy down hard onto him, his pubic hair tickling your clit and triggering your orgasm..

You come hard; the contractions of your cunt sets off his climax. You come together, his cock filling your pussy with hot white cum. He lets out a long moan, your head buried in his shoulder, muffling your screams of pleasure.

You take a moment to catch your breath before you stand up and he helps clean you up and rearrange your skirt down, gives you a quick kiss and shoves you out of the bathroom into the corridor.

Walking in a straight line after such an intense orgasm is a challenge but you manage to get back to your seat. By the time you check your make-up and straightened your blouse he was back in the seat next to you.

When you disembark the plane, he walks straight past you and gets into a car that’s waiting for him.

'There he goes' you think 'The best fuck of my life.'

You smooth your skirt down and stop, feeling something, so you reach into the pocket of your skirt and pull out a business card, Andrew Barber; Assistant District Attorney. His cell phone number is written on the back, along with the hotel he was staying at and room number.

'I know what I'm doing tonight' you think to yourself smiling.

THE END

Tags: @cevansbaby-dove @patzammit

#andy barber #andy barber x female reader #andy barber smut #andy barber x reader #ladymunson

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dxckgrxsonx · 2 years

Text

Half My Soul

Pairing - Jason Todd X (F) Reader Words - 4.6K Warnings - SMUT 18+ - Graphic Sexual Content - Unprotected Sex - Swearing - Choking - Dirty Talk - Multiple Orgasms - Crying - Begging - Jason makes reader Embarrassed - Jason is giving major Dom Vibes - Car Crash mention at the start (Reader hits Jason with her car lol) - Fluff at the End. Notes - I have nothing to say for myself. The idea of the reader wearing Jason’s holsters came to me in the middle of the night and I scrambled to come up with something resembling a plot. I love you all very much and hope you like this!! 💕

MASTERLIST

You spin into his life with no clear trajectory.

For a second he thinks you’re a misfire, a stray bullet fired straight into the centre of his armour-covered chest. He feels your impact burn, the bones of his spine shaking in response to a wound that isn’t there. There’s adrenaline bleeding into his bloodstream and while Jason knows his mind works a mile a minute, it goes completely silent when he looks at you.

Because you just hit him with your car.

And he’s lying on his back in the middle of the street like a moron.

“Oh fucking shit! Please don’t be dead.” Your voice registers vaguely in the back of his skull, there’s a shrill note of panic weaving through your words and he’d laugh if the breath wasn’t knocked from his lungs. “Also, please don’t sue. I’ve got no money, the only thing you’d win in the settlement is my fucking cutlery.”

He could use some new cutlery.

“It’s not even legally mine.” You continue, lost in a ramble. He thinks you’re going into shock. “I stole it from IKEA. Oh god. They’re not even metal, they’re plastic! Who even uses plastic cutlery?”

He smothers a chuckle, sits up and starts assessing.

Jason knows the Lazarus Pit changed his body, offering abilities that would be labelled unnatural by any sane person. He’s given up on trying to catalogue all the ways the pit altered him, a large part doesn’t want to know, isn’t ready to process it. But he does know he’s stronger, harder to kill, quicker to heal.

You hit him with your car and the only thing he feels is a tight ache in his shoulder from where he slammed into your windscreen then the tarmac.

Some might call it a gift. On hard nights, Jason calls it a curse.

He pats along his thighs, searching for the holsters that house his dual pistols. He can’t remember when being armed became such a comfort. Somewhere between torture and death and rebirth. Either way, the cold metal bleeds into the tips of his fingers and he sighs, exhales the tension biting at his throat.

Until he pats his second holster and finds it empty.

There’s a split second where his stomach drops, a gaping hole swallowing the wet meat of his organs. The drop feels endless, feels like jumping from a building and realising you have no grapple to break the fall.

Jason reaches for the one pistol he has, moves to flick off the safety and point it at your centre mass. He didn’t see you as a threat, can’t see any bumps of concealed weapons under your clothes but he’s been wrong before, been foolish. He isn’t going to make the same mistakes.

“Oh,” You mutter, “I think this is yours by the way.” Jason looks at you, thankful that his helmet covers the horrified look on his face because you’re holding his pistol. “It kinda fell out of its umm–pocket?” He watches your face, cataloguing the way your pupils are so dilated he can hardly tell what colour your eyes are. You look at his helmet, then back at the gun and suddenly your hands start shaking. “This is a gun…I’m holding a gun, right now, in my hands…”

Inexperience shines fever bright on your face. Your fingers hold his gun clumsily, almost like you’re tugged between curiosity and fear. Jason tries to swallow the harsh words from his mouth, tries to control the reflective urge to snatch the gun from your hands. He’s never liked other people touching his weapons.

“Yes you are.” Jason finally says, mouth bone dry. “And it’s mine, so hand it over.”

Your eyes flick to his helmet for a split second, an unreadable expression slotting into place, “Would you mind if I borrowed it for a minute? I’m gonna go get myself some metal cutlery and live like a millionaire before I go to jail for running you over.”

Jason grabs his pistol before you have a chance to react. There’s no way you are using his baby to commit robbery.

“You’re not going to jail.” He sighs, slotting the weapon into its holster. It’s the truth, he’s in no way going to press charges against you for something that’s his fault. “No one in the right mind would sue you for plastic forks.”

“Oh I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware I was in the presence of royalty.”

You say it like it’s an insult and Jason, for the smallest second, finds himself thoroughly amused, the edges of his mouth quirking up in the ghost of a smile.

Swinging himself upright he glances at your car and brushes off the glass caught on his jacket. Staring at the windscreen he understands why his shoulder feels like it was dragged from its socket then shoved back in. His impact has shattered the glass, raining glittering shards over the road and all across the interior of your car.

“Look what you’ve done to my car.” You growl, hooking a thumb over your shoulder and gesturing wildly to the ruined windscreen. “How am I supposed to get home now? Better yet, how the fuck can I pay for the damage?”

Jason wants to run his hands through his hair, maybe tug at the ends in frustration. He’s already mentally run through the costs on fixing your car, has the numbers for two different people who could come and get the vehicle now and get working on it. They both owe him a favour after all.

But then one question remains: how are you supposed to get home?

Jason knows his bike is close by and the solution easily wades to the forefront of his mind. He doesn’t want to leave you to find your own way home in the middle of the night, especially for something that wasn’t your fault.

He’ll have to take you home.

Apprehension quickly follows the solution though, and there's a weight sitting heavy in his stomach, he thinks it might be the beginning of a warning.

“I’ll take you home.” He says, trying to swallow the taste of bile from his mouth. You’re not a threat, you didn’t hit him on purpose. It was his own fault for misjudging his landing from the roof above. “We’ll need to wait for someone to come get your car though, it’s not exactly in a drivable condition.”

You arch an eyebrow in his direction, hands still shaking, “Yeah. That does tend to happen when a masked idiot falls from the sky directly in front of your car.”

Turning his back Jason doesn’t reply. Instead he uses his helmet's heads up display to call someone for your car.

Watching you from over his shoulder as he speaks he measures your gait as you walk, checking for injuries hidden by adrenaline. You slide into the driver's seat, clearly ignoring the bite of glass scattered across the fabric. Leaning over the centre console Jason hears you click open the glovebox and pull something out.

Immediately he maps out his options, fingers hovering over his holsters.

“Don’t think it would be a good idea to leave my purse in there, huh?” Jason’s heart pounds beneath his ribs, blood rushing hot through his head. It’s not a weapon, you’re not going to attack him. You slip out and lean against the side of your car, thumbing through your belongings. “If anyone asks. Yes, I do have a valid licence.”

“You don’t have a valid licence?”

You roll your eyes and deadpan, “What did I just say?”

Shaking his head, Jason turns to face you fully, crossing his arms over his broad chest. Your eyes follow his movements, gaze lingering on the ripple of his muscles. Glancing away just as fast Jason can’t find it in himself to fight the smug smirk tugging at his mouth.

“Question–” You start.

“No.”

Frustration blazes across your face, jaw tightening. You shove off the side of your car with a growl, steps quiet as you stalk towards him, purse in hand. There’s a bright flash of something in your eyes, you look powerful, downright lethal.

Jason’s heart skips.

He can’t deny he finds it attractive. That your immediate response is to challenge him head on rather than go quiet and back off. Your whole posture flips in the blink of an eye and Jason finds himself responding, curious and giddy at the prospect of pushing your buttons. He knows it’s stupid of him, you might very well be in shock, you did just hit him with your car. But it's been a long time since someone looked at him like that.

“I will hit you with my car again. Don’t test me.” Jason grins, a mean flash of teeth hidden behind his helmet. You step easily into his space, getting up on your tip-toes to almost stand at the same height. Cute. “Anyway, as I was going to say–”

Jason finds himself distracted. It's a dangerous thing, to let your mind wander in the middle of the street in Gotham. He can hear the grumbling disappointment of his own brain, thinks that the voice it adopts sounds like Batman.

Jason swallows, fingers tapping along his holsters for comfort, reassurance.

The distraction is you and there's a part of him that hates it.

You’re on your tip-toes, fired up and ready for a fight. There’s not a single speck of fear swirling in your eyes and Jason doesn’t quite know how to react. Doesn’t know whether he wants to nudge you so you fall back onto the flats of your feet just to see your reaction, or press his mouth to yours and swallow all that controlled fury into his stomach.

“–we’re stopping at Batburger, right? I mean, hitting someone with your car really works up an appetite.”

His brain throws him out of his own head. There’s a disbelieving laugh caught in his chest, “Are you for real?”

You smile, and Jason’s head goes quiet again.

The dim street lights cover your face in shadows, features drenched in artificial light and darkness, but your smile is the brightest thing he’s ever seen. He thinks you’re ethereal, goddamn fucking beautiful.

“Deadly.” You breathe, rocking back onto the flats of your feet. “I’m going to see how many free packets of ketchup I can get.”

There's a heavy flip in his stomach and–

Oh.

This is what his brain was warning him of earlier.

You still manage to surprise him.

Like hitting him with your car as a first meeting wasn't good enough and you’re trying to one up yourself.

Jason thinks it’s in your nature, thinks that part of who you are is geared towards throwing a curveball at anyone close enough. It used to shock him, coming home from patrol in the early hours of the morning and seeing you awake and alert and doing something goddamn stupid.

Last time it was seeing how many glow in the dark stars you can stick to the ceiling. The time before that it was pulling all the spices out of the cupboard and mixing them together just to see what it was going to taste like.

Terrible.

This time though, he comes back from patrol swimming in frantic adrenaline to find you standing in front of the bedroom mirror. There’s an almost wicked look on your face, mouth tipped up in a mischievous smirk. It makes his fingers twitch with the overwhelming urge to touch you–even after all the time you’ve been together, Jason never tires of seeing you, touching you, loving you.

His eyes are greedy and he takes you in with measured appreciation, blood thrumming hot through his veins.

You’re in your underwear, wearing one of his worn shirts–the black one with the hole in the side.

With a pair of his holsters strapped around your bare thighs.

In the back of your head, you think pulling a gun on him might give you more of a reaction.

Jason goes strangely still. His silence reverberates throughout the apartment and there's a quiet part of you that just barely scrapes the blunt edge of apprehension. You wonder, for a split second if you’ve crossed a line. That the sight of you wearing his holsters offends him somehow.

After all, you know how protective he is over his weapons.

You look at him, twist so you can face him fully, then pause. There’s an apology balancing on the tip of your tongue and you find that you hate the taste of it. You shift slightly from foot to foot because sometimes–if he doesn’t want you to–Jason will almost close off his body language.

It took a long time to learn his quirks, to read between the thin lines he gives you. For a long time you think he was bracing himself for an endless fall. That he was purposefully preparing himself for you to decide he wasn't worth your time, like he expected you would wake up one morning and realise something horrible about him.

You never did, you never would.

Jason Todd is threaded through the delicate wisps of your soul. Tangled himself so deeply that sometimes, if you close your eyes, you don’t know where you start and he ends.

But looking at him now, you get a soft tug along the notches of your spine.

Wrapped in kevlar and dusted with gunpowder you think you understand the bolt of fear that runs through Gotham's criminals. Understand why that bright red symbol on his chest makes them scramble for cover.

Jason is tall and broad and fucking deadly.

The helmet over his head offers no reassurance, gives you a blank, emotionless stare that leaves your stomach half in knots. It’s hard to look for something tangible on something so blank.

His hand reaches up to press along the release mechanism and you hold your breath.

“Sweetheart,” Jason drawls, voice half shrouded in his modulator. “You are a motherfucking menace.”

The smile that breaks over your face feels like relief.

Spinning in a quick circle you rub your fingers across the rough fabric, thumbs hooking into the holsters. “You like?”

Jason’s eyes are appreciative as they rove over your figure, you feel the weight of his gaze skirt across your thighs and stop there. Tucking his bottom lip between his teeth you watch as his pupils blow out, darkness sweeping in over a bright blue horizon and swallowing everything in its path.

“You’re so pretty baby.” He says, helmet dropping to the floor with a thud. “I had no idea you’d look so fuckin’ good wearing those.”

Your smile turns hungry.

You almost want to sink your teeth into his jugular and never let go.

“Yeah?” You grin, edges of your mouth turning a little too sharp. “So you don’t want me to take them off?”

Tapping the pads of your fingers along the plastic clips you threaten to undo them and let the holsters slip off your thighs. Across from you Jason growls, low and threatening. Your skin prickles in response, hair along the back of your neck standing on end.

Between one blink and the next Jason has you shoved against the wall. Your spine trembles in response to his strength, fingers quickly smoothing along his lower stomach, searching for soft, warm skin. Resting his hands either side of your head Jason ducks to catch your eye.

“Nah baby, want you to keep them on so I can fuck you in them.”

His tone is authoritative, almost brushing the edges of an order.

You respond with a quiet noise and slip your hands under his shirt, finally touching the warm skin of his stomach. Tracing the hard lines of his muscles you feel them twitch under your gentle ministrations. Without breaking eye contact you rake your nails down his abs, scratching the sensitive skin to leave red marks in your wake.

Jason snarls in response and for the smallest second, you regret doing it.

One hand closes around your neck faster than you can comprehend and squeezes. The air drags through your throat and your eyes roll straight into the back of your skull.

“You just can’t be good can you? Not even for one second.” Jason hisses, lips touching the shell of your ear. “Just have to piss me off.” Your throat works hard under his palm, words trapped thick in your chest. “Nu-uh baby, you don’t need to speak, you just need to be quiet and take my cock.”

Sweeping his free hand over your hip Jason slips his thumb under the elastic band of your underwear. Snapping it against your skin he loosens his fist, tips your head back and forces you to expose the soft arc of your neck.

Vulnerability never came easy to either of you.

In the first few months Jason always chose his words carefully, never put himself in a position where he was exposed, where he didn’t have at least some advantage. He was curious but overwhelmingly afraid. You knew, even back then, that something had shattered him. Someone had broken him so brutally that he reflectively decided the only way to stay safe was to remain alone.

Sometimes, you wonder if his soul was pulled out of his body and replaced with something else.

Sometimes, you wonder if it was replaced at all.

And you?

Ex’s are ex’s for a reason.

You have no desire to relive that portion of your life.

Cupping his palm over your pussy, Jason places the slightest amount of pressure there and your mouth parts in a silent whine. Rubbing two fingers along your weeping slit Jason chuckles as he feels your swollen clit throb when he passes over it.

“You must really be desperate, sweetheart.” Jason mutters. “I can feel your horny pussy soaking through your panties.”

“Shut up.” You growl, embarrassment crawling up your neck.

“What?” He coos, circling your clit through the wet fabric. “You don’t like me talking about how wet you are? Don’t want me to tell you that I can feel you soaking my fingers after a few light touches? Fuckin’ Christ baby, I think you could come just like this, just from me rubbing your little pussy through your underwear.”

There’s something humiliating about how he points it out and you want to hide.

But you’ve never been this wet.

“Jay.” You whine, wide eyes darting over the ceiling, pulse positively thrumming under your skin.

The pads of his fingers press against your jugular, measuring the frantic thud of your heart. Humming quietly, Jason dips his head, mouths at the sensitive skin under your ear and you want to flinch. Dragging his teeth down your neck he licks over your pulse point, smiling when he hears your breath catch in your throat–feels your heart skip against his tongue.

Refusing to slip his hand under your underwear Jason keeps circling your clit. The fabric turns sticky, starts to mould to every dip and groove of your cunt. You feel it stick, warm and wet to the puffy lips of your pussy. You want to start crying.

If Jason was to look, you know he could see everything.

The thought is almost as mortifying as it is arousing.

Scoffing against your throat Jason moves one hand to your hip and stops you from rocking against his fingers. “You’re so easy, baby.” He teases, “A few gentle touches and look at you, desperate to come in your underwear.”

Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip you try to swallow back a moan. You think your thighs are shaking.

“Think I should make you keep them on after you’ve come.” He muses, thoughtful. “Or maybe I should come in them too, make you sleep with them on, all wet and sticky from our come.”

Part of you wants to strangle him just to shut him up, but your body betrays you.

Just like Jason knew it would.

You come with a desperate cry of his name, thighs trembling and threatening to give out underneath you. Tears well in your eyes, lashes wet, eyes glassy. Your clit twitches wildly against Jason's fingers, the rhythmic spasms barely felt through the fabric. Your walls flutter around nothing but empty air.

You ache.

Hooking his hands under your thighs, Jason hoists you up and guides your legs around his thick waist. A quick, surprised noise escapes from between your teeth. His strength never fails to make you feel like you’ve been hit by lightning, all buzzing and sparking like a live wire.

Spinning on his feet he dumps you on the bed.

Jason stands over you, leaves you spread out across the sheets, legs parted to give him a perfect view of the soaked piece of fabric sticking to your pussy. Dragging his eyes over the holsters still strapped around your thighs he groans, low and a little feral.

In the back of your head, you’re glad the sight of you wearing his holsters makes him so unhinged. For far too long he’s pulled that reaction from you when he gears up for patrol, something about the danger that gets you hot under the collar.

Sweat beads up along Jason’s hairline and he swipes it away absentmindedly.

Shifting onto your knees you rest your hands on his shoulders, twist your fingers into his hair and guide his mouth to yours. Licking into your mouth Jason sighs, the harsh line of his shoulders softening. Cupping your jaw to hold you in place Jason kisses you, warm and soft and lovingly. The taste of him coats your tongue and your eyes flutter shut when he nips at your bottom lip.

Letting you go, Jason grins, lips swollen and flushed a deep red.

Shoving you backwards he unclips his own holsters and lets them drop to the ground with a heavy thud. Unbuckling his tactical belt he wrestles with his pants and boxers, just barely getting them shoved down far enough to free his throbbing length.

Curling his hand around the base of his cock Jason groans and gives himself one, slow pump from base to tip. Precum beads up on the fat, flushed head and you find that you want to lick it off, want to have the heavy taste of him on your tongue.

Dragging you to the end of the bed Jason pauses, only for a second, but long enough for you to hook your thumbs into the elastic of your underwear and try to pull them off.

Growling your name Jason swats at the inside of your thigh. The sharp slap leaves your skin tingling and on a reflex you try to close your legs, but Jason simply shoves them apart and delivers another smack to the opposite thigh.

“What did I say I was going to do, baby?” He questions, a horrible glint in his eyes. Heat scathes across your cheeks, you think he’s set you on fire. Shaking your head you find that you can’t quite look him in the eye. “Come on, sweetheart. S’not that hard.”

“Jay,” You say, voice touching the edge of pathetic. “Don’t make me say it.”

Tipping his head to the side Jason coos, “Aw baby, are you all embarrassed?” The look on his face has you moving to hide, hands coming up to cover your eyes and block him from view. “M’not going to make you say anything. You’re going to say it because you’re a good girl.”

Tugging your hands away from your face Jason brushes his thumb over your lower lip. There’s a hint of softness swirling under his skin and you don’t know if he’s comforting you or manipulating you.

He’s always been good at getting his way. Uses your weaknesses against you to get what he wants.

“You’re going to come in my underwear.” You finally get out, voice quiet, small.

“And?” Jason grins.

Tears bubble up along your lashes and slip into your hairline, “Make me sleep in them.”

Pulling your underwear to one side Jason sinks into your pussy, the fat head stretching your slick walls apart. The thick girth of him burns as he splits you open around him and you hate that the slight pulse of pain makes you wetter, has you clamping down around him like a vice.

“There we go,” Jason says, “That wasn’t so hard was it?” Crying out when he pulls back and thrusts back in you shake your head, mouth parting to choke on a drawn out gasp. “See what you get when you’re good?”

Moving to press his palms against the inside of your knees Jason spreads you out wider, holds your legs down so he can shove his cock deeper. Your muscles stretch and burn and when you try to buck your hips up in retaliation Jason smiles because you can’t move more than an inch.

“Oh no baby, you’re not going anywhere.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Bleeding into a rough rhythm you moan, body shaking with the sensation of being so full.

“Jay–please–.” Your fingers twist into the sheets at your side. “I–I…fuck!”

“What do you want, baby?” He pants, sinking balls deep into your wet heat.

“Hng–Jay.” You sob, tears quickly streaming down the sides of your pretty face. A harsh thrust has your eyes rolling back. “Jason, oh please–please.”

“I don’t think you even know what you’re begging for, sweetheart.” He replies.

Arching your back you shudder, pleasure rippling and alive under your skin. Jason releases one of your legs to swipe at your clit and your voice cracks, then breaks on a shuddering cry when the pressure becomes too much. Your pussy gushes around Jason’s cock and you wail when your underwear soaks it straight up.

“Oh–oh, I’m…”

“Gonna come?” Jason finishes for you. “I know, can feel your messy pussy squeezing me.”

Not pausing in his rhythm Jason keeps rubbing your clit and you think your brain is going to rot right out of your ears. There’s a flicker of overstimulation across your nerves and your cunt clenches up tight when the head of Jason’s cock brushes over a soft, sensitive patch inside you.

“Oh really?” He says immediately, choking back a moan. “Right there?”

“Uh-huh.” Pulsing hard around his length again you want to crack your chest wide open. “Jay–s’close.” Scrambling at the sheets for stability you feel your head spin, think that being drunk on pleasure feels the same as being drunk on alcohol. “Please, Jason. I can’t–I’m not–please!”

“I know, baby. I know.” Jason soothes. “You’ve been so good for me.” Your clit swells against the pad of his finger and you balance on the blinding edge of oblivion.

“Come for me, baby.”

Your whole world implodes and Jason Todd stands at its centre.

Moving around the kitchen with practised efficiency Jason makes breakfast.

At two in the afternoon.

You sit at the kitchen table, eyes still soft with sleep. He finds it hard sometimes, to focus when you’re sitting there with warm afternoon light streaming through the windows. You must feel his gaze on your face because you look up, catch his lovesick gaze and smile.

He loves you.

Grabbing two plates he dishes up breakfast and pads over to the cutlery drawer. Tugging it open he grins, mouth pulling up into a beaming smile. Sometimes he can’t believe that he ever managed to live without you.

The first, and second time.

Grabbing the one set of plastic cutlery in the drawer he slides it across the table and when you spot it you laugh, eyes crinkling at the edges.

You’re so beautiful it hurts.

Under the soft light of the afternoon he thinks: you are half of my soul, the half that the pit took away and never returned.

Jason Todd loves you.

#jason todd x reader smut #jason todd x reader #jason todd smut #red hood x reader smut #red hood x reader #red hood smut #dc fanfiction #dc fanfic #ella writes #I’m going directly to bed #today has been a day #unconsciousness take me awayyy

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whxre-bxby · 1 year

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Miles, Mansk, Lyle - meeting and pregnancy headcanons

Requested by anonymous

(omg all 3 of them in one shot) ... (the gif)

Sup bitches, here we go again with our 3 big boy hotties. I have 7 assignments due tomorrow and my nose is bleeding, but let’s do this.

ALSO TYSM FOR 300 FOLLOWERS! I posted my first Quaritch smut on the 18th of January and I had like 20 followers. IT HASN’T EVEN BEEN A MONTH AND I AM AT 300?! WHAT? You’re all angels, thank you so much. I love providing you guys with filth and imagines ad I plan on continuing to do so in the future <3

Warnings: Fluff, pregnancy (if that’s a warning), hinting to smut (nothing explicit) maybe some bad language

Characters are all recom and Na’vi! Y/n is recom-Na’vi too.

Word count: 4752

Miles:

Before both of you woke up in your new bodies, you worked closely with Miles as a human. You were a pilot and a part of his squad. Nothing romantic happened before, other than teasing and flirtatious comments. But back then, you thought it was just who he was.

When you woke up, he was there by the side of your table, helping you sit upright and keep balance while the people ran a few reflex tests on your new body.

The teasing escalated to a type of sexual tension between both of you, to the point where neither of you could be in the same room without feeling excited and attracted to the other.

One day, Miles decided to deal with the feelings because he was sure you felt the same. He visited your room and boldly asked you out as if it were a completely normal day-to-day thing. You on the other hand were freaking out and almost jumped into his arms.

What I didn’t know was that he had spent the last hour or two trying to figure out a good way to ask you out and make it seem effortless. The man was nervous to blow his shot with you because he realised that he became really attached to you. The realisation hit him when you and the team went on a mission and were attacked by a few predatory animals. One jumped at you and you hurt your arm.

Miles saw what happened and absolutely lost it. He was ready to kill anything that got close to you and managed to fight off the pack of creatures alone. The recom-team was too shocked by his sudden outburst to interfere.

From then on, he demands you walk right next to him.

After that incident, he knew it was getting obvious and out of hand, so as I said, he asked you out.

It wasn’t like a “Hey, I was wondering if you would like to have dinner with me sometime.”

He knocked on the door, hands resting on his belt, pretending not to be fazed by seeing you in pyjamas. He didn’t even greet me.

“I’ll cut straight to the chase Y/N. I know you want me, cupcake, so let’s do something about it.” he said, walking towards me so that he backed me up away from the door and thereby entered my room.

We can all imagine what happened after that. Anyway, so after a few mind-blowingly good hookup sessions, I was the first to confess that I had feelings for him. That I wanted to have more with Quaritch than just sex. He was shocked and it made me think he didn’t agree with that, but he was overjoyed with what I had said and the love confessions led to more sex. This time though, to prove our love for each other, we connected our tsaheylu’s and bonded for the first time.

Quaritch and I were then officially dating and I became pregnant after that night.

I didn’t know whether that’s what he wanted, but biologically, that is the product of mating. So he should probably already know.

Anyway, I told Miles I was pregnant and the man immediately got soft. Like I mean his eyes sparkled, his ears perked up and then drooped to the sides and his tail stilled.

I could have sworn I saw a few tears form in his eyes. Miles would stand up and embrace you, holding you close to him while telling you how happy he was and how much he loved you. Of course, he would then hold your tummy, even if there was no visible bump yet. It amazed him that his child was growing in there.

From then on, he would become even more protective of you. No more dangerous missions or physically exhausting exercises.

He would bring you things, even if they were something tiny you missed. He would make your comfort and needs his number one priority.

If you craved some food, he would fetch it. Miles even started to cook for you, wearing an apron and cooking meals in pans and pots. He looked like a real male wife and it made you love him so much more.

Once the bump started growing he would caress and hold it every night. Carefully he would lean his ear against it until one day he could finally hear the baby’s heartbeat.

He wouldn’t leave you alone and when he would, he would supply you with everything you could possibly need beforehand. Luckily, it never got annoying.

Being close to labour, Miles would only let particular people close to you. His recom team was fine. Sometimes he would make sure one of them looks out for you while he would go deal with work.

You knew the team from work anyway so having either Z-Dog or Lyle, etc. look after you and spend time with you wasn’t new.

They just had to make sure no people or random workers from the General would be around you. They stressed him out which made him think they would do the same with you.

When you went into labour, Z-Dog was with you. She ran from your room to the meeting Miles was in. Once he heard, he got up and sprinted to your room without a second thought. He got the medical team together and didn’t leave your side as they rolled you into your prepared labour room.

A few hours of pain, pushing and contractions went by and Miles was stressed out. But most of all he was worried.

He didn’t want anything more at that moment than for you and the baby to be okay. It had haunted him that your life could be in danger during birth. The life of your baby too.

He would comfort you and hold you, doing breathing exercises and all to help you deal with the pain.

Once you started to give birth he was cradling your head, holding your upper body while you dug your fingertips into the skin of his arm, screaming.

He hated seeing you in this pained state and needed to hold you close to make sure you were still with him. He had his eyes screwed shut and waited for any sign that this whole thing was over.

The second he heard the cries of your baby he froze. Miles felt your body relax into his and he opened his eyes, making sure you were present and stable before turning to see one of the nurses holding the baby. It too was alive and breathing and the man just broke down.

He was so thankful to have you by his side and he couldn’t believe the pain you had just fought through.

The baby was handed to you and he leaned down, cradling both of you.

He was crying at the realisation that he had a family now and he could have sworn that he was the happiest man alive.

Mansk:

Mansk was working alongside you since you were both people but back then, you never acknowledged each other. You didn’t remember his face or know his name and vice versa. While both of you were loyal soldiers to Miles, you worked in different areas.

When you woke up in your Na’vi body, he wasn’t there. He was already taken care of and dealing with Lyle.

Z-Dog and the Colonel had helped you up. Once everyone was stable and awake, Quaritch ordered a gathering at dinner.

Zdinarsk shared a room with you and you were given your usual cammies and some tops that basically looked just like sports bras. She found an old shirt which covered more and refused to let me have it. When we were in underwear and changing we spent at least 10 minutes in front of the mirror together, just pointing out to each other what has changed and what was weird.

Then we left for the dining hall and most of the team was already there. When we walked in Miles greeted us with an “Evenin’ ladies.” and a smirk.

“You don’t have any clothes Y/N?” Lyle teased and I flipped him off, sitting down next to a chuckling Z-Dog.

“You call that a shirt, Lyle?” I respond, gesturing to his tight, thin tank top. He scoffs, smiling before we direct our attention back to the Colonel.

Mansk was sitting next to Lyle. When you walked in it was almost like Cupid’s arrow had struck him straight in the chest. He knew most of the team but he can’t recall ever seeing you. He recognised Z-Dog but he knew you weren’t Walker. As I walked past him, his gaze followed me and examined me from head to toe.

Mansk was someone who would accidentally develop feelings. He was never a relationship type of person but when it happened, he didn’t know how to deal with it.

Over the course of the next few weeks, he tried ignoring the feelings that were developing for you.

But when the Colonel assigned you both as partners, he knew he was screwed. At that time, I had noticed Mansk too. He caught my eye because he would almost always wear his shades but when he didn’t I thought he looked quite cute. Then eventually came the time when I started to even like the sunglasses on him until I realised that maybe I just liked him.

As partners, he would help with things. At first, we didn’t exchange too many words but then we warmed up to each other. If I was stuck with something like reloading a weapon I’d never seen before, he would help me.

We had to practice training exercises with our partners at one point. That included learning how to handle the new equipment and weapons.

There was one that you would need to strap to your arm and waist. I never used it like that, so when Mansk brought it over to me I just stared at it cluelessly. He chuckled softly. I loved it when he did that.

Mansk knew how to handle all of these things.

“Here, let me help you.” he said, placing it on my outstretched arm. His hands closed the straps around my arm and then he moved behind me, taking the straps that were meant to go around my waist between his fingertips. I pretended to examine the new weapon while really I was paying full attention to him. I felt his breath behind me and I waited for him to close the straps.

He did it gently, making sure it wasn’t too tight. When his fingertips brushed up against the bare skin of my waist (because we had to wear training attire which was a little revealing), goosebumps rose on my skin. I hoped he wouldn’t notice.

Then he returned and stood next to me again, letting his hand linger on my waist while he stretched his other one out to adjust mine into place.

“Keep your arm stretched, then it’ll work.” he said, leaning closer to me. His face was really close to mine as he looked to see where I was pointing the weapon.

His breath fanned over my shoulder and I let my eyes flutter closed, subconsciously exhaling the breath I seemed to hold in while he was behind me. When I opened my eyes I saw from the corner of my eye that he was no longer looking at where I am aiming but at me.

He definitely saw my eyes close.

Mansk felt the tension from the beginning and he was happy he was the one training with you. He noticed the goosebumps, the shivers and the heavy breaths.

But he still wouldn’t dare make a move on you. You were too precious to him. He didn’t want to fuck up all the progress he has made with you.

I turn my head and look him deep in the eyes. He stares back at me, his eyes slowly flicking from one of mine to the other.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I knew he wasn’t the type of person to initiate things, so I decided to take matters into my own hands. Mansk preferred to follow orders.

“Kiss me…please.” I whisper, looking from his eyes to his lips and then back to his eyes to catch his reaction.

The man’s heart skips a beat and you notice the way his listening ears perk up a little more at your words. His eyes go a little wider and seem to almost even brighten.

Without hesitating, he pushes your arm down, grabs your jaw and pulls your face to his. He leans down a little to you and tightens the loose hand that kept resting on your waist.

When you pull away he can’t stop himself from mumbling “You’re so pretty.”

It drives you crazy and you go to lock the door.

Within a few days after that, your relationship has been made official. Mansk and you are dating and have mated the way Na’vi would. Even though neither of you had any experience in this body, the connection made with the tsaheylu’s felt right.

When he heard you were pregnant, he was delighted. Mansk lifted you from the ground, hugging you and spinning you both around.

He became much more present and happy in general, to the point where the team would notice it too.

He took care of you, bringing you things.

When you would go on missions he would never leave your side and one day, you had a craving for food bars. He ordered the few soldiers that were with us to stop and started opening his backpack, presenting you with almost every flavour and even drinks.

Mansk was prepared for everything.

He would do tasks for you and he liked carrying you around, even when it wasn’t necessary. Sometimes, he would have both of you stand in front of the mirror and he would lift your baby bump for you.

He loved to watch the way your face and entire body relaxed into him. It made him feel needed.

When you went into labour he was worried. His ears were constantly strained back and he would be moving out of the way constantly so that doctors could get to you. Seeing you in so much pain had him feeling very uneasy but when you asked him to hang around and hold your hand, he seemed relieved. You hadn’t forgotten him and you wanted him to be with you.

He was protecting the bed and you most of the time, making sure only the medics could see you. His hand would occasionally cup your face, just to keep you reminded of his presence and his want to keep you comfortable.

Mansk fit really well into the role of being a partner and once he became a dad, he mastered that as well. While helping you take care of your child, he would never fail to ensure that you were doing well. Even after giving birth, he refused to not take care of you. Seeing you battle the pain like that amazed him and he felt bad that you were the only one experiencing it. So he would happily spend the next months after labour, making sure you could fall back into your previous good and active condition.

Lyle Wainfleet:

You and Lyle had some history. As human soldiers, you got along well. You were both working the same job and always having little competitions about who could do something better to impress the Colonel.

There came a time when you were stressed because while being a soldier, you helped out in the lab with Grace’s reports. You were in the now empty break room of Quaritch’s team and were having a crisis about work. Someone had accidentally mislabelled everything and now the whole experiment was a mess.

Lyle had walked in on your study session and sat down right next to you. Of course, him being him, he couldn’t let you work in peace and quiet.

He started teasing you, shuffling around your papers and taking your pen whenever you looked away.

At first, you ignored it but Lyle didn’t give up, it seemed to just motivate him. He started to tease and provoke you even more, occasionally adding in a flirtatious remark.

For example “The papers should be burning with how hot you look right now.”, or

“Put the pen down, baby. I know a place more useful for your pretty lil’ hands.”

Lyle is resting his chin on his hand, not taking his eyes off of you. He needs any reaction. Whether it’s you turning red or just telling him off, he needs something, otherwise, he won’t stop.

After being ignored again, he starts to get handsy. Lyle is telling himself he’s doing this just to annoy you, but he also happens to like your company and does find you incredibly hot.

He starts nudging your legs with his knee or touching your fingers etc. Little does he know the frustration inside you has been building up over the past hour and with his presence, you lose it.

When his hand reaches out to your face and throw your pen down and snap. You scream at him, telling him off and cursing in every way possible.

Lyle almost immediately retracts his hand back to safety and even flinches when you raise your voice.

When you finish calling him about every insult you could think of, you see him just grinning at you and it makes you even more frustrated.

“Wow. That was so hot.” he says, the grin staying plastered on his face. My mouth falls open in disbelief. I couldn’t take it anymore.

I let my face drop into my open palms and let out a whine followed by a deep sigh.

“Do you know what you need right now”? He asks and I know he is about to hand me some dirty idea as an answer.

I was right. “You need some expert stress relief.” he chuckles, motioning to him.

I look up at him, having given up on fighting his annoyance.

“Stress relief?” I ask, clearly not impressed.

“Yeah. I can make you feel good, baby.” he says, moving closer, still teasing. He expected you to flip him off or tell him how gross he was so he could continue with his shit. But while he watched you, he noticed your eyes grow a little wider. You didn’t look like you were about to yell at him again.

He stayed quiet, trying to analyse your face. You looked almost interested in his offer. Lyle was speechless. He wasn’t expecting this but fuck, he was more than happy to give it to you.

“Are you joking?” you ask, wanting to make sure he isn’t messing with you.

He thinks about his answer, not wanting you to feel discouraged. “Not if you don’t want me to be.”

I keep staring at him and he notices how flushed my face looks. That’s all the persuasion he needs before Lyle stands up.

“Let me take care of you, baby.” he says, towering over you and cupping your cheek. When you nod, he pulls you up on your feet and leads the way to his room, which is closer than yours. On the way, you tease him about him calling himself an ‘expert’ to which he tells you to shut up and let him convince you.

Let’s just say, he does indeed convince you.

After that night, you two have a friends-with-benefits arrangement going.

After the battle on Pandora, both of you majestically die. You watch Lyle get crushed by one of the big heavy creatures, which distracts you enough with shock and grief to not pay attention to a bow flying to you.

When you wake up in recom, Lyle is next to your bed. He’s keeping a safe distance and rubbing his head while the Colonel is examining his fangs.

“Welcome back, Buttercup.” he says, smirking. He helps me with the wake-up procedure so that I don’t get scared and understand everything.

Lyle and I seemed to kick off right where we ended. It was almost as if nothing had happened, except for one thing, other than us being blue. He was more caring. Before, he would tease and occasionally make jokes that ended up being a little hurtful, but he never noticed.

Now, he wasn’t doing that anymore. We would still joke, but he made sure to leave me out of it.

After a very physically exhausting training session the Colonel had you all do, you were finally dismissed and you headed for the showers.

Just as you were about to walk out of the shower, you bumped into Lyle who had apparently been waiting for you.

He wanted to go in next and when he saw you leave he smirked.

“Hey, so how we feelin’ ‘bout our little arrangement?” he asked, presenting his typical cocky character. Seeing your moist skin on your arms and neck and your damp hair had his mind going places. You were wearing your sleeping shirt and shorts but he still looked at you as if you weren’t.

I had wondered about that too.

“I don’t know.” I shrug. “You still wanna do it?” I ask him all innocent. I know what it does to him. It makes the man weak in the knees.

“Do I want to?” he asks, sarcastically. “Babygirl, I think I’m gonna need you after seein’ you like this.” he smirks, taking a small strand of wet hair and tucking it behind your ear.

Lyle had never done anything like that. Yeah, we’ve hooked up. The usual thing was him slapping my ass as he walks by or perhaps even resting his hand on my waist. But that was it. This here, that shit made me blush. It made my stomach erupt in excitement and not just for what was to come after he showered.

I smiled, walking away to my room. “Come in whenever you’re ready.” I say over my shoulder.

About half an hour later, I heard a knock on my door. When I open it I see Lyle outside, as expected. Only this time, his skin is damp too. And he isn’t wearing a shirt. Of course, why wear one if you’re about to take it off anyway?

He smirks and mentally pats himself on the back for choosing to not put it on when he sees how you struggle to take your eyes off his torso.

“All yours, baby.” he said, slowly backing you up into your room and closing the door behind him.

“I’m all yours and you’re all mine.” he said in a softer voice, placing his things down on your small table and slowly making his way to where you were standing.

It seemed to hit him only then. You standing in front of him, still clothed but looking as beautiful as ever. The fact that both of you were Na’vi didn’t bother you. It was still Y/N and Lyle.

The way your big eyes looked up at him. It was almost loving and he sensed adoration more than arousal.

A wave of happiness flowed through Lyle. Maybe you liked him more than just a fuck-friend too.

Lyle was nervous as shit while taking his shower. He washed everywhere and kept looking in the mirror, wondering whether he even had a shot. You seemed keen on wanting to continue the arrangement but he started to feel more emotionally connected to you, not just physically.

He stood in front of you now, gazing into your big curious eyes and losing himself in them. The silence was comfortable and he started to wonder how he could go about doing day-to-day activities without noticing or admiring you as a person.

“Lyle…” you whispered out. But it wasn’t the needy voice he would have expected to hear. It was your real one. You were fully aware of this situation and not distracted by excitement. It made his heart skip a beat again.

Lyle slowly leaned down to you, not even thinking about his actions.

When your lips pressed against his, all questions were answered. You have never kissed properly before. Only during sex. This kiss meant more.

When pulling away, you couldn’t stop yourself from mumbling. “I think I love you, Lyle”

He froze and repeated your words in his head over and over again, staring at you in disbelief. God, did he love you even more now.

You couldn’t get enough of him and connected your lips to his again. This time, he held you close to him. You wrapped your tails around each other and embraced the other as if they were all that mattered. In that moment, they were all that mattered.

After pulling away again, Lyle said “Let me make love to you, Y/N. Let me show you how much you mean to me.”

And once again, he proved to you that he stuck by his words. Instead of just fucking, you did make love. You mated, using your tsaheylu’s and everything.

A week after your night, you discovered you were pregnant. Neither of you thought about the consequences of your actions so it shouldn’t have been a surprise but it was. The pregnancy was unplanned but when you told Lyle, he looked like he had been waiting for that news for months.

He was the happiest person on the planet in that moment. You both sat down together to talk about your relationship and how you would deal with a child if you decided to keep it. Well, if they even did abortions on Avatars.

You decided to have a child and Lyle had left to tell all his friends on his team. He was very bad at containing his excitement.

During the pregnancy, Lyle was already like a mother. He brought you anything, like literally anything.

You forgot your hair tie on the other side of the lab? He would go fetch it, even if you had many more around.

Any food cravings you had, you got them served. Lyle couldn’t cook. He was shit at it and something always burned but he had your heart because he tried really hard.

He would leave you little love letters and notes on the nightstand or in your bag if he wouldn’t be seeing you for a while. But when he gets back, he makes up for the lost time with lots of snuggles.

Lyle treats you like a princess, no kidding.

When your baby bump grew, the man couldn’t stop himself from drawing a face on it.

During labour, he was out of it. Seeing you in so much pain had him freaked out. He was worried sick. Like, he genuinely felt sick. What if you wouldn’t be okay after this? What if the baby wasn’t okay? So much was going through his head and he felt so useless because all he could do was stand and watch while the love of his life seemed to be fighting for her life.

While giving birth, he was holding your hands, demonstrating how to breathe in and out deeply to calm yourself down. He did everything he could and once the baby was born, he could have collapsed into the hospital bed next to you. He didn’t of course, he needed to be with you and the baby.

It still amazed him that you had brought new life to the planet and had created a family with him.

He’ll be the most amazing partner and dad you could wish for. Always helping you out and is ready to risk it all for those he loves.

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safetycar-restart · 6 months

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KINKTOBER DAY 19: A/B/O [MAX VERSTAPPEN X READER]

NOTE: This is an NSFW fic with omega!max and alpha!reader. If you're under 18 or this is not something you're interested in, then scroll past. If you like what you see here, then check out the rest of my blog :))

This fic is part of a kinktober series where I discuss a different kinky concept with a different motorsports athlete every day. We also discuss the concepts in more detail through asks on my blog so if you have any thoughts, feel free to stop by!

(For a while now we've been discussing the idea of omega!max crashing and then going to heat when a marshal helps him out of the car, I thought that for today's kinktober we could finally give this concept it's own fic! If anyone wants to add their own thoughts or hear more about this, please send in some asks! I'll be tagging everything with 'marshal!reader')

You watch from your marshal post as a red bull goes wide and hits the barriers, the car spins twice and then settles, losing a wheel in the process. You wait until the yellow flag is out and then rush forward to collect the debris, as you have been trained.

You check on the driver, realising it's max when you see the number on the car. You try to confirm he's conscious, but when he spots you he motions for help getting out the car. There are other marshals already clearing the debris so you do as he asks.

The moment he's out the car, he's frantically trying to get his helmet off. He appears unharmed, but you can smell the fear off him from a mile away.

The moment his helmet is off, he takes a few deep breaths, looks at you, and then just drops his helmet and gloves and dives into your arms. You nearly both topple down, having not expected it, but luckily you manage to catch him.

He whines high in his throat, turning his neck to the side as he clings to you and that's when you smell it. The scent of slick finally making itself known.

You realise he's in heat.

You try to back away, knowing you're unmated alpha and that he must be reacting to you. But he whines and clings to you even tighter, refusing to let you go.

"Don't leave," he mumbles against you, "please don't leave."

The medical car arrives but max still refuses to let you go, trying to hide against your neck.

The doctor ends up telling you to come with him, knowing that trying to get an omega in heat away from an alpha they've chosen is a losing battle. You don't want to leave your post, but your instincts are completely honed into the omega who won't let you go.

You know you have to go with them.

Max is whining the whole car ride to the medical centre, hissing at the doctor when he opens the door when they arrive. You have to coax Max out of the car, promising him that you're coming with and that you won't leave him.

Not that you would ever want to leave him.

They end up injecting heat suppressants into his arm, which calms him down enough that you can convince him to let you go and escape out the medical centre.

It hurts so much, because all your instincts are screaming at you to go back and look after the omega who has chosen you. But logically you know that's not the case. Max must have gone into a shock heat when he crashed, and you were simply the first alpha he encountered. He doesn't even know your name, there's no way it's anything more than instincts and now that he's been giving suppressants, you're sure he's going to be mortified once he can think straight.

So you leave.

What you dont know though, is that the suppressants stop working after a few hours and he asks for the marshal who helped him. They offer him several toys and other alphas, even Daniel shows up to offer to help. Max turns everyone down, crying out for the marshal.

#kinktober tag #omega!max #mv #gn!reader #marshal!reader

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bussyslayer333 · 2 years

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Lay all your love on me

Summary: Jake has fallen for Penny’s niece working as a bartender at the Hard Deck for the summer. Too bad he doesn’t know how to show it.

pairing: jake seresin x penny’s niece!reader

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, mentions of an age gap, j*ke being an asshat, pet names, smut at the end, am I forgetting anything??? pls lemme know! MDNI 18+

feel free to send me a message or ask with requests/ ideas pls <3

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It was the third time this night Jake had seen you talking to that scumbag hanging near to the bar top. What did he have that Jake didn’t? Girls didn’t even like short guys (said scum bag was an inch shorter but Jake would be damned if the world didn’t know). He had never felt like this before in relation to a woman, usually they were the ones pining for him from afar. It was a pathetic sight to see for the rest of the dagger squad,

“Seriously bagman who pissed in your beer?”

Jake looked up from where he had been perched against the pool table and scowled at Rooster, did he ever shut his mouth? Now his gaze had finally been diverted from you he felt a surge of anger as he clenched slightly too hard around the neck of his beer bottle.

“Just go talk to her, with some of that Texan charm hopefully she can look past how horrifically you bombed yesterday.” Rooster smirked into his Stella.

At the reminder of yesterdays occurrence Jake squirmed in distaste.

“Come on ‘bombed’ is a bit harsh,” Bob spoke back to Rooster in Jakes defence.

Phoenix snorted so hard into her beer that some shot out of her nose and Fanboy let out a squeal as the nose beer hit his arm, alerting everyone in the hard deck (and probably a five mile radius because damn who knew fanboy had pipes) of their group. Payback began to pat Phoenix on the back and coaxed her back into a normal state of breathing but not before you could turn and mouth “you okay?” To Phoenix to which she replied with a forced smile and a thumbs up which appeased you and allowed you to turn back to ‘scumbag’.

“‘Bombed’ is putting it lightly Bob, don’t coddle him.” Phoenix croaked, and Jake finally spoke up “Look I didn’t mean what I said, I know I fucked up, bad.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Last night…

You and Jake had been dancing around each other for for a while now, it marked the third week you’d been in Miramar as you had been banished to your aunts for the summer because your mother had insisted you get some sunshine before your last year of college. Spending three months surrounded by hot navy men seemed ideal to you and you had hoped it involved a lot of beach time but alas, your dear aunt penny had roped you into becoming her newest bartender after the last had quit after a run in with a piano, a tray of drinks, a man named after a male chicken and one rowdy cover of great balls of fire.

The game you and Jake played was simple, you knew he was a flirt, heard the stories from your aunt of his heart of gold but sluttish tendencies with civilian girls in town for the summer. You knew you couldn’t be one of those girls but god was he making it hard.

Jake strolled up to the bar where you were drying glasses with a rag and tapping you sandal covered foot to the pina colada song. He leaned on to the bar top and let out a low whistle.

“That a nice sundress Sweets, I didn’t realise we were dressing up for each other now,” Jake drawled raking his eyes up and down the ditsy floral sundress you had worn (admittedly for him but he didn’t have to know).

“In your dreams flyboy,” You scoffed with a smirk looking into his eyes. The wedge sandals gave you a small amount of height advantage but your eyes still had to wander upwards to meet his.

“Every night, doll.” Jake pestered you further

“Sweets or doll? Which one is it?” You questioned but he didn’t falter, he never did.

“It’s whatever you want it to be,” Jake whipped out the big guns expecting you to simper, “darlin’,”

You looked him straight into the eyes and couldn’t help but giggle,

“Seriously cowboy? How often does that one work? Got all the southern belles swooning I imagine?” You snorted watching a flicker of embarrassment twinge in Jake’s eye but he stayed strong.

Truthfully, that’s why Jake hadn’t given up on you, you were funny and clever (probably much more than him) and dished it right back when he was being obnoxious, which was something Jake admired so deeply. Sure he thought that you were beautiful but so would anyone, it started out embarrassingly enough with Jake wanting you to be another notch on his belt but he couldn’t deny his desire to know more than just what you looked like in his bed. He wanted to make you snort when you laughed too hard and not feel embarrassed about it, he wanted to be lectured by you when he said something stupid and mostly he wanted you to tell him how much you loved him after doing all of that. His insecurities crept up within him so slowly, he had never had to deal with that type of feeling before, especially for a girl so much younger than him.

So in true Jacob Seresin fashion he did what he knew best, became a cocky son of a bitch.

“Sweetheart there are girls in this room begging for me to call them darlin’,”

You rolled your eyes with a hint more malice than what Jake was used to (and perhaps something which coloured you slightly green with envy). Then instead of doing the correct thing and backing down he amped it up.

“Don’t act all high and mighty when you’re dressed like that doll.” Jake knew he was digging himself a hole.

“Like what Jake?”

He knew he’d overstepped, you never called him Jake, always ‘flyboy’, an affectionate ‘bagman’ after you’d heard your favourite pilot Phoenix say it, and Jake’s personal fave ‘cowboy’ when his accent drawls our far too smoothly than humanly possible.

“Like a slut.” He spat far too casually for your liking. He was appalled at himself, embarrassed that he’d call you something like that. Jake pleaded that you tell him off, shout and scream and make regret opening his mouth. Rather you span on your heel to serve the next patron and didn’t look his way for the rest of the night. It was so much worse.

Your lack of verbal sparring, heated glances and winks when ‘Slow Ride’ was punched into the jukebox for the umpteenth time that night had Jake on a whim of nausea that couldn’t even compare to pulling 7Gs in his F-18.

He wandered back to the group looking sullen and Bob who had been silently observing the interaction was the first to pipe up.

“What happened?”

“I called her a slut.”

“WHAT?” Phoenix shrieked grasping your attention from the bar. Your ears twitched at the sound but you knew you couldn’t look back at them. Jake had humiliated you.

“I dont fucking know whenever I look at her my brain gets scrambled and I..” Jake trailed off to look at you and felt his heart drop to his stomach whilst you readjusted the the wrap neckline of your dress to cover your cleavage and and struggle to pull the skirt of the dress as far down on your thighs as it could go.

Phoenix seethed watching you as well,

“You are going to go over there and apologise to my favourite bartender we’ve ever had, otherwise I will literally shoot you down at our next training session.”

Rooster coughed up,

“Or Penny will never let us back in here again,”

Jake squinted at him in confusion, “I mean I know she’s got the sign but what does she have to do with this,”

Rooster smiled with a knowing look that Jake feared so so deeply,

“You didn’t know Hangman? That’s Penny’s niece.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Present…

After his failed apology attempt that Jake had tried to spew at you at the beginning of the evening he hadn’t been back up to the bar, leaving the drink ordering and collection down to his teammates. Penny hadn’t seemed out of the ordinary with him at the end of last night and Jake wasn’t surprised. You were a big girl who could handle her men issues on her own without running for help. Which is why he felt so foolish to be one of those dudes you discard after a stupid [read misogynistic] mistake.

Watching the scumbag return to the bar top for the 7th time this past hour (yes Jake had been counting) he finally plucked up the courage to walk over to you.

Before he could fully make his way away from the group, Rooster caught his wrist and pulled them close together.

“Are you sure about this?”

Jake had never been one to listen to Bradley but he felt the urge to currently.

“Look Jake I can’t watch you go over there and apologise just to continue your journey of trying to get into her pants. She’s sweet, she doesn’t deserve that.”

Looking Rooster in the eyes it became so obvious to Jake how badly he had fucked up.

“I dont just want to get into her pants.”

Rooster snorted as Jake put emphasis on the word ‘just’. Jake rolled his eyes and continued.

“I feel like shit for making her feel bad about herself. I really fucking like her Bradley and i need her to see that.”

Rooster nodded and released his grip on Jake, pushing him forward,

“Go get her Loverboy!” Jake cringed as you turned to see Roosters outburst.

Powering ahead just in time to see scumbag reach to touch your bare arm Jake yanked his hand out of the way.

“What’s your fucking deal?” the guy grumbled and Jake took advantage of his height and stared the guy down.

“Do her a favour and get lost buddy.”

Whilst you would have previously enjoyed Jake coming to the rescue, your mood was still significantly dampened by the events of last night.

Was that seriously how he saw you? Just some slut who was the easiest way for him to get some attention. You hated that he made you doubt yourself and you hated yourself even more so for still craving him.

Whilst the scumbag stumbled off into the direction of some other frat boys Jake fell into his spot and looked up at you apologetically.

You beat him to being the first to speak up.

“Do you seriously think after that shit you pulled, you have the right to be jealous over who’s talking to me?”

Jake went to speak again but you cut in.

“I suppose you’re here to tell me how slutty this outfit is,” you gestured down at your cut off jean shorts and tight fitting crop top. Jake wanted to admire you but felt it best not to. He cringed at your use of ‘slutty’ but figured you deserved to let it out of your system.

After turning around to serve someone else who had turned up at the bar you returned back to Jake looking slightly more willing to hear what he had to say.

“Look doll,” you rolled your eyes albeit more playfully than last time he had seen the action, “I’m really really fucking sorry. I’m such a dick and i can’t believe I said that to you.” You looked into his eyes and waited for him to continue. He took a deep breath, knowing he had to say it.

“I like you so much it’s embarrassing, to the point where I’m so cocky it makes my head hurt because somehow it’s easier for you to hate me for being a dick rather than pity me for being down so bad for you.” Jake stopped his rambling to look up at you and see you giggling. God he’d fucked this situation even further. Now you were never gonna speak to him again, just laugh at how embarrassing this grown ass man was for falling for you. Recognising the slight spiralling look in his eyes you decided to put him out of his misery and speak up.

“You are so stupid lieutenant.” You smirked at him and Jake felt embarrassed at how his body reacted to you addressing him with his rank. You continued on, “You are so stupid if you didn’t think I was just as down bad for you.”

Jake quirked an eyebrow at you, begging he wasn’t just dreaming this up.

“Jake I’ve been sold on you since the minute you walked into this bar with that smirk on your face after calling me your favourite pet name of the hour.”

“Doll you don’t know how glad I am to hear that,” Jake beamed at you, “and I’m so fucking sorry again-” he began.

“If you don’t close your mouth and kiss me right now lieutenant,” and with that Jakes lips were on yours. It was sweet, he tasted like the bitter beer he had been sipping and the emergency tictacs he kept in his back pocket. He reached his hand around your head and guided your further into the kiss until you pulled back. Jake worried he had gone too far too soon and opened his mouth to apologise again. Instead he followed your line of sight to see your aunt staring disapprovingly down from the entrance of the bar. Until she burst into a fit of giggles, you turned your head shyly and buried it into Jakes chest and he lifted your chin with his finger.

“Care to explain what your aunt seems to find so funny doll?”

Penny walked behind the bar and began attending to patrons as she spoke to Jake with a knowing smile.

“I warned her of navy boys, told her how me and her mother were back in the day, and she assured me hurriedly that she could never be like that.” You blushed as your aunt continued on. “So imagine my surprise when I walk into my bar to see you Hangman, all over my niece.”

Jake smiled sheepishly, but spoke with his usual confidence, “Well if there’s one thing I can assure you Penny m’dear, it’s that I won’t be anything like your Maverick.”

You smacked Jake on the chest lightly at the mention of your on and off again uncle whilst Penny snorted. “ I can only pray.”

You pulled away from Jake to begin helping Penny wipe down the glasses but she immediately started shooing you away with her rag. “Please darling, do us all a favour and alleviate the heavy sexual tension which has been wreaking havoc on my bar for the past month.”

Your mouth hung open as you were reminded of your aunts often unnecessary candour. Jake laughed from behind you and yanked you up by the hips so you were sat on the bar top. Spinning round to face him your felt his hot breath hit your ear.

“What do you say doll? Let’s get out of here, I have a few ways i can think of making it up to you.” You pulled back with a blush on your face and nodded hit with a sudden loss for words.

“Get her off my bar top would you.” Penny gestured in your direction to Jake.

“Gladly.” He smirked placing his strong hands on your hips. You could feel the warmth of his skin on the sliver of your midriff that was revealed by the short nature of your tight top and denim cut offs. He picked you up and placed you down in front of him which made the height difference oh so much more appetising now he was staring right down at you.

“Let’s get out of here.” You smiled up at him tugging him by the calloused hand.

Jake turns as he’s being dragged out by you and winks at a staring and shocked Rooster and Coyote. Phoenix looks up from where she was about to kick Bob’s ass at pool and makes a mental note to text you later to get as many details as she can.

Finally leaving the Hard Deck and the cool night time sea breeze is refreshing on your flushed cheeks. The sunset is in its last stages as Jake checks the time. 21:52.

“Not to be presumptuous, but would you like to come back to mine?” Jake speaks almost, nervously? You squeeze his hand in reassurance and look up.

“I thought you’d never ask flyboy.”

Jake guides you through the hard deck’s gravel parking lot to his truck in the far corner where a tree hangs down lowly over it. You snort as you realise how fitting Jakes truck is to his personality. It’s shiny and big but you can see his air freshener dangling down revealing a Yankee candle spiced cinnamon scent. Suddenly not feeling very patient anymore you drag Jakes face down to yours with both hands and lock your lips together. It’s much more heated than the kiss in the bar, which is probably due to the confidence found in not being watched by a group of Jake’s workmates. Jake slips his tongue into your mouth making you moan out in surprise.

“God you sound so sweet doll” Jake groans against your ear moving his kisses along your neck getting sloppier as they go along as to drag out more sounds from you.

“Jake please,” you whimper almost embarrassingly far gone from just kissing. He pulls away from your neck to open the door to the drivers side of his truck and you whine from the loss of contact.

Jake chuckles at your needy state and helps you climb into his lap in an action far too gentlemanly for the current situation. Face to face sat in his truck your need for Jake only grows as he bucked his hips up into you causing you to whimper into his lips.

“Sorry doll,” Jake chuckles, “you just feel so good on top of me.”

“Easy cowboy,” you simper, “I could still walk right out of this truck if you keep teasing.”

“You wouldn’t,” Jake smirks, seeing right through your lie. Nevertheless, he continues his ministrations of kissing down your neck as you grind your hips down into his. The friction of his trouser seam and your shorts bumping against your clit with each movement was addictive.

You pull away from Jake’s latch on the base of your neck and begin to unbutton his shirt. Jake helps you as the heat verges on uncomfortable. Once his chest is bared to you a knot of fire ignites in your stomach as you trace the hair that leads down his chest into a happy trail with your finger. Jake hums contentedly and reaches for the bottom of your shirt.

“As adorable as the little top is doll, I’m much more interested in what’s underneath.” Jake signals for you to raise your arms to aid him removing your shirt and you do. Your shirt is abandoned on the passenger seat as Jake stares at your bare chest. You become slightly self conscious at his silence and reach to pull you hands in front of your breasts until Jake groans.

“God you’re fucking perfect,” Jake pulls your hand that was going to cover yourself and places it between both your crotches onto his hard cock. You both moan out at the sensation. Jake reaches up to unbutton your shorts and you aid him in pulling them down and tossing them to rest with your discarded shirts, thanking the lords you opted for a cute lacy baby blue thong today instead of your trusty my little pony pants that were a common wear for you. Jake groaned again loud enough that you had half a mind to shush him.

“Doll are you actually trying to kill me?” Jake asked you with an air of honesty. You giggled in reply and reached to toy with your clit through your panties. “Yep, you definitely are.”

Jake replaced your fingers with his and pulled your panties to the side to catch a glimpse of your wetness.

“All for you lieutenant,” Jakes whole body audibly twitched at that admission and he pulled you in by the back of the head for another deep kiss with his hand that wasn’t between your legs. As you kissed messily with your free hands palming over his length Jake increased his speed and plunged his middle finger into you. You moaned against his mouth at the intrusion and whimpered trying to find something coherent to say.

“Jake please I’m so close,”

“I know doll, please cum for me.” Jake begged whilst he circled your clit once more with his thumb. Feeling you clench around him Jake repeated his actions over and over as you squirmed against him, thrashing gently as pleasure overcame you. Jake watched in awe as the girl he has dreamt about for the past month came all over his hand. Breathing hard you kissed Jake messily again as he removed his fingers from you. Parting from the kiss you watched Jake stick his fingers into his mouth and suck them clean, involuntarily clenching as you eyed his actions. Jake opened his eyes and made contact with your lust blown ones and smirked.

“Now let me actually take you back to my place doll, show you what else I can do.”

You smacked his bare chest endearingly and moved over to the passenger side to dress yourself in his button down shirt for the short drive back to his place. Jake looked over and smiled seeing you dressed in his shirt lit up by the moonlight filtering in from the windscreen, and it filled him with pride to see you finally as his girl.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

a/n: this is my first piece of writing ive actually decided to post so please comment and re blog and tell me what u think !!!

yes it was inspired by the abba song LOL i watched mamma mia yesterday and couldn’t stop thinking about jake and the whole “i wasn’t jealous before we met, now every man that i see is a potential threat,” (queue sick fighting moves)

i was also thinking about doing fics w bob and rooster inspired by mamma mia/ abba songs so whatever you want to see just lemme knowwww :)

thank u for reading

- honey <3333

#top gun #top gun movie #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #hangman fanfiction #hangman #hangman x reader #hangman x reader smut #hangman smut #hangman x you #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin smut #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x reader smut #jake hangman seresin #top gun smut

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sunlightmurdock · 3 months

Note

okay apocalypse dbf!jake will not let me go again so- I need the confession 🙏 I need the tear-stained first kiss after an attack, with too much adrenaline and too little care for the inappropriate age gap

EEK me either me either me either ! I’m so insane about him rn

And I feel like this particular attack would be a big one. Resources are running low and Jake won’t leave you up on that mountain by yourself, so he has no choice but to bring you with him. He has done what he can, preparing you for this.

It scares you, even when it’s just all pretend with him. He’s not as kind when he’s training you. Even as you’re crying and telling him to stop it, that you don’t want to, he’s yelling and insisting that you aim straight and breathe — that these things won’t stop no matter how much you cry, or scream, or beg.

He doesn’t mean to be cruel. It would be far more cruel to leave you unprepared, to let something happen to you.

This is a low stakes run, but you can feel that he’s unhappy having you here. It’s itching at you that maybe it’s because you couldn’t hit that target last time. He had tied a thick tree branch to a length of rope, pushed hard, and let it swing. Your first moving target. Not so much as a chip in the wood. You’ve got a pretty big knife, one that could tear muscle from bone— he won’t give you a gun.

You know he’s focused on protecting you, it’s an awful feeling to think that you may not be able to do the same for him, especially after all he has done for you so far.

It’s a gas station, back off of the road, early enough on that it hasn’t yet been completely raided. Heavy metal shutters cover the windows, but Jake makes quick work of the padlocks on the back door. The power has all gone out by now, it’s just the light from your flashlights to guide the way. Jake is two paces ahead, close enough to jump back and pull you behind him if he needs.

It’s eerily quiet. You’re stuck to him like a shadow as he surveys for danger, and ultimately decides that it’s okay.

Keep away from the doors and windows, stay where I can see you. Dejected and feeling more uselessly childish than you have in a long time, you sweep the shelves and take what you can while Jake does the same. Continually, he checks over top of the shelves to see if he can see the top of your head.

It’s going too well, it tricks you both into thinking that this is going to be easy. You’re focused, on your knees and rummaging through the medicines to take everything you could need. You don’t even notice the noise that you’re making. Jake doesn’t mind the rummaging sounds, it means he can hear where you are without needing to watch.

But then, so can the employee who took such care to fortify this place before he took swallowed back a cocktail and pills the second that he saw his home in flames and his undead mother staggering around on the news footage. He made himself comfortable before he passed. His shoes and his jacket are in the back room. His socks are almost silent against the linoleum as he staggers around the corner.

He’s tall, and skinny, and hadn’t hurt anyone in his entire life. But he’s close enough by the time you spot him that his height gives you no room to stand up. His eyes are wide and gorging, the sockets sullen and lifeless. You haven’t seen one of them so clean before, part of him still looks human. His lips are pulled back, animal, growling weakly as he reaches for you and tumbles forwards.

Jake hears the scream and he swears that he’s going to be too late. Even just across the floor of the gas station — it takes seconds for one of those things to get their jaws around you. He’s sick to his stomach, his gun pulled and the safety off, uncaring about if the sound draws attention for miles around.

He rounds the corner and spots the puddle of dark, thick blood first. His heart sinks to his stomach, until he realises that it isn’t yours. You push the corpse back, off of you. Your knife is plunged through the socket of its eye, it’s dead. You take one look at Jake, and crumble, tears pouring from your eyes as you stare at your blood soaked hands.

“Shh, I’m here. Shh, shh, shh. You’re okay,” Jake whispers, sinking to his knees and pulling you off of the floor, cradling you in his arms as he kisses the top of your head. “It’s alright, I’m right here. You’re safe, you’re okay.”

“I didn’t— I didn’t see it— it was —“

“I know, sweet girl,” Jake whispers, rubbing soothingly at your back. He presses his lips together and kisses softly at your temple. “You did so good. You did it. You’re alright now.”

Again, Jake kisses your temple softly, hugging you closer. His weight and his smell, his strong arms wrapped around you. All of it almost makes you forget where you are. Blinking back any more tears, you turn your head as he kisses at your temple again. This time, you’re looking at him as he pulls back.

Tears soaking your lashes and your cheeks, staring up at him. Jake’s throat feels thick, his mouth suddenly dry as your fingers press into his arms. You are okay, you did it. He’s here. You sit forwards first, and Jake’s met with the exact thing that he has been trying to stop himself from thinking about for these past few weeks. Your lips are just as soft as they look, and your hands pawing at his arms make him melt into you.

Before all of this, Jake tried so hard to fight it. You’re so much younger. Your father would have never approved. Now, he supposes — it doesn’t matter. What matters, is keeping you safe, and he’s so glad that you’re safe.

His hand grabs firmly at the nape of your neck as he presses closer, deepening his hold on you, kissing you firmly.

#dbf!jake #apocalypse dilf jake #dads best friend Jake #jake Seresin #jake hangman Seresin #jake Seresin x reader

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kiwiana-writes · 2 months

Text

Six(ish) Sentence Sunday

Don't forget, Fandom Trumps Hate bidding opens 8am EST on March 5th! Details of my offerings are here, and a roundup of all the RWRB offers can be found here.

Remember a couple days ago when I said thanks to the people who tagged me in the WIP ask game but my list had just hit 62 and I couldn't be bothered writing them all out? Well, welcome to #62. I watched a film, realised how many fics I've read based on it across a ton of fandoms in the last couple of decades, entered some sort of weird fugue state, and then there was a Google Doc open. As usual.

2019 Outside Kensington Palace, with the car waiting to take him back to the royals’ private airstrip, Alex seriously considers taking Henry’s phone out of his hand and plugging in his phone number. It’s the same tug in his gut that led him across a Buckingham Palace ballroom to poke and prod at Henry’s perfect princely veneer; the one that dragged him across the room to introduce himself at Rio; the one that used to pull him out of his bedroom and into June’s to open a magazine. But that’s not what’s happening here. They’re not friends, even if Alex did see a glimmer of something resembling a personality while lying elbow to elbow with Henry on the dusty floor of a cupboard. It’s a PR stunt, nothing more, and they both have people who are literally employed to make sure they both come out of this looking good. No point in complicating it. In the end, Alex only reaches out when it’s time to shake Henry’s hand in farewell, and then he climbs into the back of the car and ignores the nagging sensation of something left unfinished. 2029 Alex rolls out the crick in his neck as he steps off the plane in Austin, his shoulders relaxing with every step into the familiar terminal. A couple of months into his second congressional term, he’s only just starting to feel like he really has a handle on the House schedule and the punishing weekly commute back and forth between Texas and DC—but just because he doesn’t have a spouse and kids to come home to like many of his colleagues on the Hill, it doesn’t mean he’s not still spending as much time in his district as he possibly can. Even if it does mean he has an even heavier reliance on caffeine than he did during college and more frequent flyer miles than he’ll ever know what to do with.

Tagging @agame-writes @affectionatelyrs @anchoredarchangel @anincompletelist @celaestis1 @celeritas2997 @cha-melodius @clottedcreamfudge @cricketnationrise @cultofsappho @daisymae-12 @dumbpeachjuice @firenati0n @getmehighonmagic @happiness-of-the-pursuit @heybuddy-drabbles @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @indestructibleheart @indomitable-love @inexplicablymine @leaves-of-laurelin @littlemisskittentoes @lizzie-bennetdarcy @magicandarchery @matherines @myheartalivewrites @ninzied @nocoastposts @notspecialbabe @orchidscript @rmd-writes @sherryvalli @ships-to-sail @smc-27 @sparklepocalypse @ssmtskw @stereopticons @three-drink-amy @tintagel-or-cockleshells @welcometololaland @whimsymanaged and, as always, anyone who wants to play! (If you take the open tag please tag me so I can see!!)

#six sentence sunday #kiwiana-writes #fic: chemistry without a recipe

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red1culous · 9 months

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Exhale

Snow was falling thick and fast as Nat follows Wanda out onto the pavilion into the cold night air. It falls in straight vertical lines gathering on their hair. Faster and faster, thicker and thicker big flakes feel like ice pricks on Nat’s bare shoulders before melting away.

“So much for the weather forecast” Nat mutters.

“This is so you” Wanda sighs stopping in her tracks.

“And what is that supposed to mean?” Nat says almost bumping into her unprepared for her abrupt stop.

Wanda shakes her head. “It means you fall for someone and then you set the world on fire so you two can’t be together.”

Nat’s eyes widen at her description. “That’s not true and—“

“Oh come on Natasha. I may be the youngest here but I am your best friend and I see what’s going on. You like someone and then you get scared so you go out of your way to screw things up. You act ridiculous so no one can really get close to you. You want attention to a point. Once someone gets close to you, and in this case Y/N, you do something catastrophic to guarantee they run a mile away.”

“Ok, well don’t feel like you need to hold back” Nat says a little hurt but more so embarrassed by how accurately Wanda had described her. She sighs and hides her face in her hands. “Wow I am a monster. Maybe it’s best she keeps away then.”

Wanda leans in closer to her best friend poking her index finger into Nat’s shoulder. “Did you not hear a thing I just said?”

“Oh I heard you loud and clear. Crystal, in fact.” Nat’s shoulder slump a little.

“I’m not saying this to make you feel bad.”

Nat snorts. “Well you’re failing there.”

Wanda rolls her eyes. “Look all I’m saying is we all have baggage. I have enough to fill the Compound. But it’s what we do with the baggage that makes it better or worse. Are you just going to keep pushing people away or are you going to let her in?”

Wanda’s steady and piercing gaze punches holes through every excuse Nat had floating about in her head. She had long realised that her attraction towards you was more than just physical. Sure you had an allure that she was immediately drawn to. But just knowing that you were in the same building as her made her feel grounded. It was as if just being close to you made the world seem a little messed up than it was.

Nat knew Wanda was right. It was weird and it was selfish. She was purposely trying to self sabotage just because she was falling…or rather, had fallen for you.

Nat releases a huge breath. “Why would you want me to be with her. I’m a mess, Wands.”

“Because you’re so much more. And you’re the first person who makes her smile like an idiot and isn’t just using her.”

“I’m not the right person for her” Nat counters.

“Not right now you aren’t,” Wanda leans back on her heels and folds her hands across her chest, “but you could be.”

“How?” Nat asks her voice smaller than it’s ever been.

“Stop beating yourself up for whatever it is you think you think you’re responsible for.”

“Anyone tell you you’re like Oprah and Dr Phil combined?” Nat says a smile in her voice.

Wanda kicks some snow into Nat’s direction. “Did you hear a word I just said or do you want me to hit you in the face with a snowball?”

Nat lifts both hands in surrender. “And I’m going to make this right, I promise.”

“Good” Wanda replies giving Nat a quick side hug.

“Can we go inside now my nipples feel like they’re about to fall off” Nat says shifting her weight from foot to foot.

Wanda laughs pulling Nat into her side. “It’s not my fault you’re not wearing a coat” she says as they start walking back into the building.

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I have a taglist if you would like to be on it.

@arcturusseer @readings-stuff @blackwidow-3 @justyourwritter69 @cutelittleakira @jareguiromanoff @sk1nnyftt @official-clint-barton @nattysredhair @black-kittycat18 @owloftheshadows @angryalpacachaos @iliketozoneout @marvelonmymind @wastdstime @lovelyy-moonlight @beholdagaywriter @inluvwithfictionalwomen @33-mrvl @wandanats-goodgirl

#exhale #redfic #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #black widow x reader #wanda maximoff

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nat-lover-06 · 8 months

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Breaking down

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POV: Your car breaks down and Natasha fixes it for you

Warnings: smut, oral, fingering, pet names, mommy kink, top!Natasha (sorry l didn't do this on my last fic)

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"Aww shit. Shit shit shit!"

Your car had broken down in the middle of knowhere. You could see nothing for miles any way you looked. You had no insurance and no car knowledge whatsoever. You popped the bonnet of your car and a giant plume of smoke hit your face and made you cough and splutter. You thought there was no hope but you suddenly hear an engine in the distance. A truck was approaching fast. You run into the middle of the road waving yours arms around frantically, jumping up and down. The truck pulls over and rolls down its dirty window to reveal a stunning redhead woman.

She leans out the window and softly says "well well well, what we got here sweetheart?"

You blush at the fact that a woman just called you "sweetheart". That had never happened to you before.

"Well? You gonna talk to me?"

You blush even more as you realise you had just been staring at her beautiful face.

"I-I-er-erm-sorry-I-um... my, my car broke down and -urm- I.."

"Do you want me to call a garage for ya darlin?" She replied.

"Urm- yes please, that would be wonderful." You smiled.

"Well I'm not gonna"

"Wait what?"

She started to get out of her truck, "I'm gonna fix it myself silly. Can't you see the sign on my truck?"

You take a peek and sure enough the woman worked at a garage. You felt stupid.

She started to rummage in the back of her truck for her tools. "The names natasha by the way".

Natasha, what a lovely name, not very common. You marveled at her for a while before she said "you gotta name sweetheart or do I just gotta guess?"

You go a bright shade of red as you realised you've done it again." Oh sorry, its Y/N."

"Oh, Y/N. Cute name." She said with a wink

You blush.

She gets all her tools out and fixes your car whilst you chat. Soon enough it's all done and ready to get back in the road again.

"And... there. All fixed" Nat sighs as she closes your bonnet with a thump.

"Oh thank you so much I don't know what I would've done without you here" You say about to get in your car until Nat says

"Where do you think you're going sugarpie?"

"Huh?" You reply, startled.

"You don't think I did all that for free did you?"

"Oh, umm... I don't have any money on me... but... umm... I..."

"No, no, no, no. That ain't the type of payment I was thinking sweetheart"

"Did you think you could get away from me in that short, short little skirt of yours?". Nat starts to inch closer to you.

You stare at her wide eyed. "Whats going on", you think. She gently touches your shoulders and whispers into your ear.

"Besides, it would be rude not to thank me for what I did, now, wouldn't it? Do you need mommy to teach you some manners?"

At that moment Natasha pinned you up against her truck, her soft lips brush against yours and her hands make their way down your figure slowly. She starts pressing herself into you while her kisses start to become more intense. Her hands arrives at your ass and feels its shape. With a groan, she squeezes it and takes you the bonnet of her truck. She bends you over the front and gets out a strap on from her tool box.

"You want mommy's cock?" She asks teasingly.

"Mmmm, want mommy in me" you reply

"Good" She smirks as she pushes your head so all you can see is your reflection in her windshield.

"You ready darlin?"

Nat slowly pushes her cock into your ass while you wince.

"Mmmm mommy's so big"

Nat likes that, gently she starts to pull out and push back into you making sure you can handle her size then roughly she starts really fucking you. You can feel her in your stomach so big, a wave of pleasure comes over you and Nat can see it she starts going even faster.

"Look at you darlin you're just a little wreck for mommy aren't you"

You go to respond but you can't you've forgotten anything but her cock and how it feels inside. Nat slaps your ass,

"I said you're a wreck for mommy aren't you"

"I... I'm a wreck m... mommy" You manage to whimper.

You scream as you orgasm all over her. Nat turns you over on her bonnet and with two fingers inside your already dripping pussy, she picks you up and lays you down in the back of her truck.

She starts rubbing your inner thighs like a massage then brings her hands down to your knees and spreads your legs in such a way that makes you shudder with delight. Nat, her strap on taken off my this point, brings her head down to your cunt. You can feel her breath on your thighs. She then starts to gently kiss and tease your clit, eventually after much pleading she burys her face in your pussy, her tounge tasting all of your juices. She hits every one of your sensitive spots perfectly and as you twitch against her you finish all over her face with the biggest orgasm of your life that leaves you unable to think about anything.

Nat wipes her face off and smirks, "You can clean yourself up now sweetheart, here y' are"

She throws you the rag she just used for herself but you're to drunk on pleasure to do anything about your mess and just lie there in extacy.

#natasha x fem!reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff smut #smut #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha fanfic #natasha imagine #natasha x y/n #natasha romanoff x y/n

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