#i was at work when he started his live and i CAN'T SQUEAL AT THE OFFICE !!!!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

koshkamartell · 4 months ago

Text

Kept Woman

summary: AU one shot. Your older boyfriend Joel knows what's best for you, even if you don't agree.

warnings: unspecified age gap, possessive!Joel, low key abusive!Joel, toxic behaviour, gaslighting, reader has poor self esteem, degradation, dubcon PIV, unprotected PIV, creampie, dirty talk, daddy kink, slut shaming, breeding kink, mild dissociation.

word count: 6,200

"You woke up with a fuckin' attitude today," Joel grumbles as he heaves himself into the driver's seat of his truck. He doesn't look your way as he slams the door shut and starts the ignition.

"You'd have an attitude too, if someone else kept you up half the night with their snoring," you snipe from the front passenger seat.

Joel's loud snoring has been a point of contention in your relationship for quite some time. He always snores, although it has never been as bad as it was last night. Most of the time you can subdue the snoring with a couple jabs of your elbow into his side, or a few light smacks on his shoulder, but last night nothing seemed to rouse him. The maddening snoring was unrelenting as it sawed through your eardrums, each inhale and exhale of Joel's breath bringing you closer to a fit of rage.

You ended up seeking refuge on the couch around midnight, angry at having to abandon your luxurious king bed for the far inferior comfortability of the living room sofa. As a result you are understandably irritable this morning.

You have noticed a pattern to Joel's noisy nocturnal breathing; it seems the nights of heavy, obnoxious snoring come after a long day at work, when he returns home extra tired and ready to collapse in bed. You know he's been putting in overtime at the latest project for his contracting company. You appreciate that he works hard. But if you have to deal with another round of cacophonous snorting then you will surely go crazy.

You see Joel scoff and rolls his eyes in your peripheral vision but choose to ignore it. He always thinks you're being dramatic or complaining about nothing. You flip the sun visor down to use the mirror before rifling through your handbag for your lipstick.

"For fuck sake," Joel growls suddenly, slamming the visor shut. He glares at you and jerks the gear stick into reverse. "How many goddamn times have I told you? I can't fuckin' see that side when I'm reversin' and you got that thing down."

"Maybe you need to get some glasses if you can't see," you quip nonchalantly while twisting off the lid of your lipstick from its tube. "Old man," you add half under your breath before applying your make up.

"Oh yeah, you're so funny," Joel snaps sarcastically. The engine revs and the tires squeal as he quickly reverses out of the driveway. He grips the top of the steering wheel with one of his large hands, the other resting tense on the gear stick. He usually lays that one on your thigh while he drives, for he's always eager to touch you, to reassure himself that what he owns is close by.

But today neither of you touch. There is no air of affection between you. The atmosphere in the truck is thick with tension and punctuated by sour, fractious silence. It lasts for five gruelling minutes before you decide that you can't take it any longer.

You reach over and push the button on the stereo and the radio comes crackling to life with a crooning, old fashioned country song. You make a small noise of disgust in the back of your throat and press another button to scan through the different stations. You are trying to search for something more palatable, something more upbeat to lift you out of this shitty mood.

"The fuck are you doin'?" Joel mutters, his eyes glued to the road ahead of him. "Quit messin' around with my radio. I like the station it was on."

"Come on, Joel. I don't want to listen to that crap." You huff. When you jump over to the next channel the speakers trumpet out a fast paced, beat driven track. Yes!

"Too bad. Ain't your truck, now is it, sweetheart?" Joel's thick fingers reach out and click the radio off without so much as a glance your way. You stare at him, half in surprise and half in rage. There is a self satisfied manner to his posture now, his shoulders a little more relaxed, his brow no longer pulled into a frown. There is even a hint of smug smirk on his mouth. He's cocky, the way he asserts his dominance over you, even through such small gestures. Sometimes you wonder if he does these things to antagonise you.

"Yeah, well, maybe I'll get my own car so I can play my own music," you snap, crossing your arms and glaring out the passenger window.

"Oh yeah?" Joel chuckles and shakes his head. "And just how are you gonna do that, baby? With the measly pay you get from waitressin' at that hokey little diner?"

He grins to himself, like the conversation is an amusing joke. You hate it when he is so condescending. His atittude acts as a reminder that he's so much older than you, exceedingly more financially stable, and undeniably more wise and savvy than you could ever be.

Your cheeks heat with embarrassment. It isn't the first time Joel has ridiculed your job. He's often pestering you to quit the diner to get a cushy receptionist position at his company instead. He says it's more respectable for your resume, although you suspect it is more so Joel can keep a closer eye on you than anything else.

"I like my job," you retort quietly, staring at the passing scenery outside your window. You hear Joel hum an acknowledgement before he clears his throat.

"I know, honey. I just don't get why," he says, tone considerably softer now. He glances over to you and you can feel the weight of his gaze, you but you don't meet it. "You could be earnin' atleast double what you make if you came to work with me."

The truth is that you genuinely do enjoy your job. You like keeping busy and being a part of the close knit team that operate the place. You cherish the rapport you've built with the regular costumers and you thrive on the praise they give you. Leaving your position would be giving up your safe space, somewhere where you belong and feel valued. It would be forfeiting your only remaining slice of independence.

You don't share any of this with Joel.

"They need me," you say in a small voice. "That's what Lenny always says."

Lenny is your boss, a funny and kind older gentleman who acts like a surrogate uncle to you. He often jokes that he has been managing the diner longer than you've been alive. He has always been a source of support for you, as have the other waitresses and line cooks.

Joel snorts derisively. "They don't need you, honey. They just use ya. Lenny wouldn't think twice about replacin' you if he had to."

"That's not true," you mumble weakly. You know what Joel says is not true but there is still a tiny niggling doubt in your mind that perhaps Joel is right. He usually is, after all.

He puts his large palm over your knee where your skirt has ridden up and strokes the bare skin there. The touch of his thick, calloused hand feels possessive. "Trust me darlin', some other girl would be fillin' your shoes before you even step foot outta that shithole."

His tone isn't cruel; he sounds matter of fact and concerned, paternal in his conviction. You sigh softly and don't bother to argue back. You don't speak for the rest of the few minutes drive to your work. The tension in the truck lingers, a sense of unease that makes you feel on edge, but Joel seems totally unaffected by it. He hums, carefree and seemingly oblivious, one hand on the top of the wheel and the other still on your knee. Always so in control, always so confident.

You stare out the window with a vacant expression, a myriad of thoughts passing through your mind.

How much money have I saved now? Will Joel be angry if I work the double shift on Saturday? I need the money. Should I tell him about the invite to Paul's party now or later? My sister texted again but I just ignored it - Joel would say I keep inviting drama into my life if I text back, but I feel bad.

You don't realise how quickly the drive passes until the rundown Lenny's sign comes into view and bursts your train of thought like a bubble. As Joel pulls into the parking lot you realise just how eager you are to don your little apron and turn off all the thoughts and emotions you don't want to deal with. Joel parks the truck and you have to fight the urge to jump out and scurry straight through the diner door.

"I'll see ya tonight, baby," he murmers, leaning over to plant a soft kiss on the corner of your mouth, the scruff of his moustache tickling your lips. You flash him a little smile and slip out of the truck.

The diner was busier than usual today. The steady trickles of people meandering through to get a bite to eat or something to quench their thirst make it impossible for you to even get a decent lunch break. You and Teresa bustled around the tables serving endless cups of coffee and milkshakes alongside stacks of plates laden with burgers, fries, sandwiches and all day breakfast specials. The lunch time rush was so chaotic that you thought the line cook would have a heart attack.

You didn't mind being run off your feet - it made the noise in your head turn into low level static, a kind of vibration that silenced the anxiety and allowed you to simply exist. Working as a team, being surrounded by friends, helped you to breathe more clearly, and by the end of the day you felt a pleasant ache in your cheeks from smiling so much.

The flow of patrons only began to dwindle once the end of your shift rolled around. The sun was beginning to set, pretty pink and orange hues splashed over the western horizon, signalling the end of the day. You stand outside the diner around the side of the building and share a smoke with Tony, one of the linecooks. He's an older man around Joel's age, with a charming smile and eyes that seem to twinkle. He's always affable and chatty, a perfect gentleman.

"You goin' to Paul's party?" He asks as he takes an inhale of his cigarette. He leans against the brick wall and passes the rolled cigarette to you. You accept it and take a drag.

"I dunno," you reply with a shrug of your shoulder, exhaling a winding curl of smoke from your nose. "Not sure what I'm doing that night."

Tony's mouth quirks into a half smile and he nods, something playful and knowing in his expression. You raise an eyebrow at him and cock your head to the side curiously.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

Tony holds his hand out and you pass the cigarette back to him. "Nothing," he replies casually. "Just wondering if it's that or if it's because that boyfriend of yours won't let you."

You wrap an arm around your middle and scoff, but the noise comes out sounding more defensive than you would have liked. "He's got nothing to do with it," you mutter, kicking at the pavement with the toe of your shoe.

Tony nods sagely and pops the smoke inbetween his lips. "Uh-huh," he dismisses smoothly, "well anyway, me and Teresa are goin', if you wanna hitch a lift with us."

"Thanks. I'll let you know."

Less than a minute later you spy Joel's truck cruise down the road and turn into the parking lot, the engine rumbling loudly amidst the muffled sound of country music vibrating through the windows. The arrival of his vehicle acts as an unspoken cue to end your conversation with Tony. Tony seems to understand; he flicks the butt of the cigarette onto the ground and crushes it with the toe of his boot before shooting you a smile.

"G'night," he murmers. He wipes his palms on his apron and steps around you to walk back into the diner. Joel pulls up a few parking spaces from where you stand, further toward the back of the building and away from the diner entrance. You stroll over to the truck and smile when he opens the driver side door. The twangy music reverberates from the speakers inside the truck and you have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes.

"Hey baby," Joel greets you with his smooth Texan drawl. He switches off the engine before unclicking his seat belt, then hauls himself out of the truck.

"Why are you getting out?" You ask with a frown. "I've clocked off, let's go home."

He smirks and snakes an arm around your waist, pulling you close against his front. He presses a kiss to the top of your head. "Couldn't wait to have you in my arms, that's all," he murmurs. "Missed ya today."

You wrap your arms around his middle and lean your head against his chest. "Missed you too."

Joel tucks a stand of stray hair behind your ear and then strokes his thumb along your jawline. "Yeah?" He purrs. "You missed your daddy?"

You nod your head and nuzzle your nose into the soft, comforting material of his flannel. He chuckles softy and cups the side of your jaw in his palm. "How about we get goin' home and you can show me just how much you missed me, hmm?"

"Mmhmm," you whisper, letting your body relax into his embrace. You feel your eyes drifting closed. You are so tired and your feet ache. The thought of going home with Joel sounds perfect; he'll choose a movie and pick up some takeout and you two will snuggle up on the couch and retreat away from the world.

Joel slowly spins around so that your back presses against the side of his truck. You giggle softly and tilt your head to look up at him. He gazes down at you intently, a glint of hunger swirling in his brown eyes as he scans your face.

His large hand slides from your jaw back to the nape of your neck. "You're so pretty, baby," he cooes. His fingers thread through the strands of hair at the base of your skull, gently at first, before he closes his fist and pulls your hair taut in his grip. You wince at the sting of your scalp. "So pretty. And just for me, right?"

Joel suddenly captures your mouth in an impassioned kiss, pushing his tongue past your lips with a dominanting force that almost feels desperate, as if he wants to consume you. You feel overwhelmed by the intensity but you let it happen, allowing your mouth to be claimed by him. You can taste the coffee and mint on his breath, while the faint mix of his cologne, sweat and cigarette smoke fills your nostrils - it intoxicates your senses, making you slightly dizzy, and you sag back against the car.

Joel's other hand squeezes your hip possessively. You're pinned between him and the truck and it makes you feel small and vulnerable, more or less trapped by his solid frame. He slots his thigh inbetween your legs and you feel the buckle of his belt dig into your stomach.

You wait until you are struggling to breath before you finally press your palms against his broad chest and push, although you're far too weak to actually get him to stop. He eventually relents and breaks the kiss, though he keeps his face close to yours.

"Make it so fuckin' hard to keep my hands off you," he mutters, nuzzling his aquiline nose against yours. You let out a breathless giggle and fiddle with the collar of his shirt.

"Let's go home, it's been a long day," you offer. Joel presses a light kiss on the tip of your nose and grins, his warm breath beating over your cheeks.

"Not yet," he whispers, "can't stop myself, baby. You already got me so fuckin' hard." He grinds his erection against your crotch, his hardened cock straining the material of his jeans. "Feel that, honey? Feel how fuckin' crazy you make me?"

You feel a tug of panic within your tummy. He has that telltale tone in his voice; gravelly with lust, but with something dangerous simmering below the insistent ardor of his affection. It is how he sounds when he wants something.

And Joel always gets what he wants.

"Joel...," you murmer hesitantly, trying to keep the nervousness from cracking through your voice. "Not here, please not now. Let's go home first."

You're grateful that Joel has collected you from the back corner of the parking lot, just far enough to be partly secluded from traffic and other people walking around. But you are still less than sixty feet from the inside of the diner where your coworkers and boss are currently still working.

"Just for a minute, baby, just need to feel you real quick." Joel reaches down and hitches up the hem of your skirt to dip his hand underneath. The caress of his calloused hand gliding up to the apex of your thighs causes a shiver to crawl up your spine. His touch always feels so good, so enticing, and when his fingers find the crotch of your panties a gasp escapes your lips.

"Joel," you whisper anxiously, clutching to the lapel of his jacket. He presses his fingers to your clit, groaning with pained lust when he feels the damp material of your panties.

"Fuck," he breathes. He fingertips begin to draw light circles over the bud, immediately eliciting a spark of pleasure to flood through your lower belly. "Just needed to feel you, sweetheart. Been thinkin' of you all day."

Joel leans down and kisses you once again, tongue slipping into your mouth and lapping at yours with fervid hunger. You feel your hips buck involuntarily, your body suddenly craving his touch, greedy for him to continue his minstrations.

He rubs your clothed clit with expert dexterity, the pressure steady but just light enough that your climax builds quite quickly. You hate how quickly he can unravel you, how effortlessly he seems to command your pleasure; but the blossoming ecstasy seems to rob you of your shame, making you forget just where you are.

All you can focus on is Joel.

Your heartbeat thrums in your chest and your breath comes in short, heavy exhalations through your nose. You feel your pussy flutter with electric pulses - you're close.

So fucking close.

Then it stops.

Joel withdraws his hand from your heat and loosens his other from your hair at the same time. He breaks away from the kiss and shuffles his boots backward a step, pulling out of your grasp.

What the fuck?

You lean forward in an embarrassing attempt to chase his lips, and whine in frustrated confusion.

"Joel what are you doing?" You pout, scowling at him.

He ignores you, glancing down as he hurriedly unbuckles his belt and unbuttons his jeans. You watch as he takes hold of his hard cock and pulls it out from his underwear, foreskin retracting to reveal the fat head already wet with precum.

Your eyes widen in shock and your head swivels from side to side, nervously scanning for any sign of someone walking by. "Joel!" You hiss. "Are you insane?!

"Sssh," Joel croons, not bothering to look up at you. "Can't help it, baby, you're driving me crazy." He gives a lazy pump of his cock and steps between your legs again, his heavy boots nudging your feet apart to widen your stance. "Come on honey, be good for me."

"No, Joel, not here, please," you protest hurriedly, but he isn't listening to you. His massive hand tugs your skirt upwards, exposing your legs to the cool evening air and the warm metal of the truck behind you. Joel forcefully slots his body inbetween your thighs and impatiently yanks your underwear to the side, your slick arousal smearing over your lips. Your panic increases when you feel the heat of his cock press against the opening of your pussy.

He won't actually fuck you here, will he?

"Joel!" You plead, smacking your hands against his chest helplessly. You've got to get him to stop, to wake him out of this horny stupor. Someone could pass by any second and see what's happening. You'll be humiliated if anyone finds you in such a compromising position, but you will surely die from mortification if someone from work spies you. "Please."

A low growl of annoyance rumbles from Joel's chest and his hand comes to squeeze your hip, not tight enough to hurt you but firm enough to make you stop moving. He glares at you now, his pupils blown wide with predatory desire, his jaw ticking. You whimper and let your hands fall to your sides.

"I ain't askin'," Joel warns in a husky whisper. "Open up, little girl."

There's no use fighting it.

You basically agreed to it anyway, letting him touch you like that just a moment ago.

You stay silent as you acquiesce, spreading your legs further and hitching one up to sit over his hip. "That's it," he purrs lowly, "let me in."

The stretch of the crown of his cock breaching your hole makes you grimace in discomfort. He is big - the biggest you've ever had - and it always hurts when he first ruts into you. You're wet but no where near enough to facilitate a smooth entry, especially because he hasn't worked you open on his fingers beforehand either.

He groans with satisfaction when he slides into your pussy in short stuttering bursts, hand on your hip gripping you tight in place. You scrunch your eyes shut and bite down on your bottom lip to try repress the pained moans threatening to spill out from you.

"You're tight, honey," Joel murmers. "You gotta relax." His other hand comes up to cup your cheek in his large palm tenderly. "Breathe through it, come on."

He tilts his head down to press a light kiss to your hairline and the scratch of his scruffy beard prickles your skin. He is only halfway inside of you and the sting of intrusion seems to only intensify; maybe your body is rejecting Joel, so conscious of your shame and unwillingness that your insides are refusing to adjust.

You remember the first time you and Joel had fooled around, how intimidated you were when you had discovered just how well endowed he was. *"Don't worry, baby, I'll make it fit," he had said with a chuckle.

And that's what he was going to do now - make it fit, whether or not you were ready for it.

You don't even get the chance to regulate your breathing before Joel drives his hips forward and feeds his length all the way inside you. Your mouth falls open and a choked whine claws its way up your throat, and on reflex your hands ball the flannel of his shirt into your fists.

You're so unbelievably full.

"Good girl," Joel praises you in a velvety mumble that makes your clit unexpectedly throb. "Knew you could take it."

You can't help but preen on the inside at the tiny scrap of approval. You feel your pussy clench and unclench around him. You whimper and flutter your eyelids open, your dizzying vision settling on the tanned skin of Joel's strong neck, the veins by his jugular. You fight the urge to latch onto the spot and sink your teeth into him, to do something to bite back at him.

His hips start to saw back and forth with steady momentum, slowly punching his fat girth in and out of you. The burning sensation eventually dulls but the feeling of your insides parting continues to bombard you, bordering on unbearable, and it makes you mewl pathetically.

"Never get sick of splittin' this pussy open. Love seein' you cry on my cock." Joel plants a sloppy kiss on the side of your temple, seeming to relish the taste of the salty sweat of your skin.

Joel's appetite for sex has always been pretty voracious; it isn't uncommon for him to sneak up on you in the kitchen and bend you over the counter to fuck you while you're trying to cook, or for you to wake up in the mornings with his tongue lapping at your cunt. It still surprises you that a man his age has such insatiable desire, but you really can't complain, not when he's able to coax orgasm after orgasm from your body so effortlessly.

But right now you're desperately wishing he would atleast try to control himself, that he wouldn't let his animalistic compulsion cloud his sense of rationality and make him so reckless. Joel is usually a conservative kind of man, no nonsense and a tad grumpy in temperament, who would probably sneer in disgust at the idea of a man fucking his woman outside the privacy of their home. Those who know him would never in their wildest dreams guess that Joel would do such a thing - such debauchery is far more characteristic of his younger brother, Tommy.

But with you it seems Joel loses all sense of conventionalism.

You wouldn't have ever imagined him doing this, either, considering how possessive and protective he is. But you've learnt that Joel seems to foresake his self righteous attitude whenever it suits him, and more often than not when it benefits him.

Maybe you should've tried harder to persuade him to stop, to take you home instead.

"You daddy's little cock slut?" Joel rumbles in your ear. His hand leaves its bruising hold on your hip to slide over your mound. You feel the rough pad of his thumb press on your clit and your legs twitch at the contact.

He starts to swipe deft circles over the bud and soon a buzzing wave of bliss reignites once more throughout your belly. You can't help but moan, the uncomfortable sensation of being forced open finally dissipating enough to allow you to feel a degree of pleasure.

He maintains the momentum of his hips rolling against yours as he rubs your clit; soon your body is overtaken with the barrage of Joel's movements and the ecstasy he imposes upon you, and you find yourself going slack against the truck panel. The shame and anxiety you felt begins to fade as you surrender to Joel.

Your legs tremble and he senses your strength draining, always so attuned to your body and the telltale signs of your approaching orgasm. He gives your cheek a light slap.

"Stay with me, baby," Joel commands."Hold on to me, I got you."

You obey, your hands feebly grabbing at the meat on his flanks to help keep you steady. He nods down at you, his fat cock still plunging in and out of your pussy, all while he massages your clit. He plays your body so expertly, like an instrument, like he knows you inside and out, knows that he's the only man who can take you apart so deliciously. Your mind starts to feel like it's floating the closer your orgasm creeps up.

"That's it, honey. You love this cock so fuckin' much, don't you? Joel grits, nuzzling his nose against your forehead. His accent is like honey to your ears, thick and dripping with lust as he whispers filth. "Greedy little pussy can't ever say no to gettin' fucked, can she?"

You whine brokenly in response, breaths coming out in short pants. You're so close, the residual pressure of your previously unfulfilled orgasm heightening every punch of Joel's cock, every circle of his digit on your clit. He continues to speak, praising you with a silky string of adoration, good girl and the best pussy I ever had dripping from his mouth.

Your orgasm reaches its peak and a swell of intense bliss blossoms from the depths of your loins to surge all throughout your body. Your pussy contracts and spasms, a trickle of juice squirting down Joel's shaft and over his balls. You have to bite down on your lip to stop yourself from crying out, causing a drop of blood to bloom out over your tongue. Your fingernails are close to tearing Joel's shirt, surely leaving indents on his skin even through the material.

"Yeah, that's it baby, cum on this cock," Joel rumbles with satisfaction.

He fucks you through your orgasm to prolong your high, but you quickly reach the point of overstimulation; you plead for him to stop, your voice hoarse and tired, devoid of strength. He continues for a few seconds longer, just to tease you and make you squirm on his dick, but then he stops.

"Good girl, so good for me," he whispers, planting another wet open kiss against your temple, his mouth hot and slobbering.

You're exhausted now and just want to sleep, the post orgasm delirium settling over your mind and body like a thick cloud.

But Joel isn't finished with you yet.

He sets both his massive hands on your hips and begins to fuck into you with renewed vigor. It rips you from the alluring pull of drowsiness and you squeal at the unexpected brutish pace he sets, the force and tempo verging on bestial, like he's purposely punishing you. The edge of your underwear grinds uncomfortably against your labia and chafes the sensitive skin there.

Joel uses his grip to pull you up and down on his cock like a ragdoll, a toy whose sole purpose is to be used for his pleasure. The euphoria from your orgasm has completely disappeared now, replaced with sharp stabs of pain from where the head of his cock kisses your cervix. You grit your teeth and claw at his sides, desperately wishing it was over.

He's so deep inside you that you swear he's stabbing into your stomach. Each stroke squeezes an involuntary guttural moan from the bottom of your lungs.

"Yeah, that's right," Joel growls. "Let everybody hear you whinin' like a bitch on my cock."

You are suddenly flooded with the mortifying remembrance of your surroundings. You aren't in your cosy bed in the house you share with Joel - you're still in the public parking lot by your work place, being screwed by your much older boyfriend. Burning shame and humiliation pour over you like liquid flames, saturating and scorching every inch of your skin.

You feel dirty. Cheap.

Like he's reading your mind, Joel leans down to whisper in your ear with chilling comtemptuousness. "Lettin' me rail you in a fuckin' parking lot, like some kinda whore."

You're caught off guard by the venom of his words; a tiny gasp escapes your mouth and your fingers instinctively loosen their grasp on his back. He doesn't seem fazed by the change in your body language, too engrossed in chasing his own high to perceive how deflated you've abruptly become.

Or maybe he just doesn't care.

"Yeah. Gotta be a real shameless slut to get fucked like this. Surprised you ain't got a load stuffed in you already."

You stare at the tanned expanse of his neck once more, your eyes unblinking like you're in a trance. The prickling of tears sting at the back of your eyeballs. You'd never cheat on Joel, would never have sex with someone else. Why is he saying these things?

Your stomach feels sick. You hadn't wanted to do this in the first place - it was Joel who seduced you to. But still, he's right, isn't he? You are letting him fuck you against his truck and you aren't even telling him to stop.

Like it's just part of your job.

"'S what you are," Joel croons harshly, "aint nothin' but a dirty whore cummin' on her daddy's cock. A real brainless bitch only good for spreadin' her legs."

Joel has always been the more dominant partner during sex with you. It comes so naturally to him, slipping into an authoritative role in the bedroom as easily as he does in day to day life as a manager of his own construction company. He does not relinquish control in any area of his life.

But this feels different. There is something prowling right below the surface of this whole situation that makes you feel uneasy; it is in the barbed edge to his speech, the uncaring movements of his hips, the animalistic heaving of his breaths. A feeling that he wants to hurt you.

"Bet you'd let me fuck your ass right now too." Joel pants in your ear, words slurring slightly from the fervid of his own gratification, like he's drunk. "Bet you'd fuckin' love that, lettin' me bust a nut in your little asshole."

You feel your heart crack a little at the cruelty of his tongue, how easily they seem to slither from his mouth like a serpent. You don't speak back.

"I'm gonna keep all your holes filled," he mutters. "Make sure you're drippin' all the time. That what you want, baby?"

Through the haze of your pain you can detect the telltale throb of his cock, the way his hips move in a more frenzied, sloppy rhythm. You know his body just as well as he knows yours; he's about to cum, and when you feel the momentary swelling of his girth you brace yourself for his climax. His fingers dig into the flesh of your hips painfully.

"Take it, bitch, take it all."

Joel slams his cock deep inside your pussy one last time before his cum erupts over your walls and cervix, filling you to the brink with his milky spend. He moans and grunts in your ear, his chest heaving against your frame, crushing you further into the panel of the truck, crumpling your far more delicate and smaller body.

He pulls out of you swiftly and you are immediately hit by the aching emptiness left inside you. You scramble to adjust your panties and to pull your skirt down, and your balance teeters dangerously. Joel is quick to catch you from falling to the ground, wrapping his hands around your upper arms to keep you upright.

"Whoa, honey, easy." He soothes, soulful coffee brown eyes darting all over your face with concern. His expression is so soft, a complete juxtaposition to the predatory scowl he wore just minutes ago, like he's transformed into a totally different man. "You okay?"

You nod your head, eyes fluttering open and shut as your brain fights against the foggy film of dissociation permeating your thought process. Are you okay? You aren't really sure.

"Mhm," you murmer anyway, almost inaudibly.

"Oh, my perfect girl," he whispers softly, so reverent and loving. "I love you so much." He tilts your chin up with his thumb and plants a tender kiss on your lips; you can't help but melt into it, like a kitten desperate for warmth and affection. The mist surrounding your senses abates quickly, leaving you staring up at Joel with mirrored adoration in your eyes. He strokes your hair and gives you a small smile, the dimple in his side visible for a second.

"I love you too." You preen and reach up to stroke at the patchy beard along his jaw, marvelling at just how handsome he looks. You want to savour this moment, wishing to memorise just how beautiful the intimacy between you and Joel feels right now.

He loves you. You love him. That's all you need. It's all you want.

"Come on honey, let's go home and get somethin' to eat," he tells you, stepping away and making quick work of buckling his belt back up.

You nod in agreement, getting ready to haul yourself up into the truck when your mind suddenly snaps alert to the lack of weight on your shoulder. You whine in annoyance as you realise the mistake you made. "Shit! I forgot my purse inside. Ugh."

"Well go on and get it," Joel drawls, laidback and unbothered. "I'll wait for ya." He gives your ass an encouraging pat. "Hurry along."

You sigh dramatically and turn around to go back inside. He folds his arms and leans back against the truck, eyeing the sway of your ass while he tries to conceal the conceited triumph radiating through his chest. Yeah, he knows what he pulled was an asshole move, but it had to be done. You've been getting a little too mouthy for his liking, a little too friendly with your coworkers. And once he knocks you up you won't have any more excuses to keep working at this shitty diner. You will be at home, barefoot and pregnant, with no where else to go and no one else to rely on. You'll be marked for life. A kept woman.

He smiles a little to himself, content with the knowledge that as you make the walk back to the diner the slow gush of his semen will be creeping into the gusset of your panties.

credit to @saradika-graphics for the divider

#joel miller x reader #joel miller dark #joel miller #dark! joel miller #joel miller dark fic #joelmiller #dark! joel miller x reader

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strawberryblue-blog · 4 months ago

Text

Not your friend —Lando Norris.

Summary: When you not only have to do your job as a McLaren engineer but also have to take care of an immature child and put up with his teasing.

Warning: none. Enemies to lovers, jokes, claustrophobia, a little bit of angst.

Words count: +1.5k.

#SEXYNOTE: Lando is the first to open this section (If it's my favorite, don't let it show 😉). I hope you enjoy it! Love you 💘

Life in the Formula 1 paddock is chaos as you spend the time working here. Engines roaring, mechanics racing, data flowing on the screens like an incessant torrent that drains the life out of you but fills your soul with joy. You had always dreamed of being able to work in a great team, with great people and to be able to fulfill my dream. But like everything beautiful, it also has its downside. And here you are, an engineer for one of the most competitive teams in the championship. Mclaren. Your job is pretty much to keep the car at its optimum and all that goes with managing the stats and results. But sadly, it also seems to be part of your job, to put up with one of the team's youngest and most rebellious drivers, who was hell-bent on making your life a living hell.

Lando Norris, the track wunderkind, is fast, talented and above all, unbearably arrogant. With his charming smile and honeyed words, he brings the world down at his feet. And even if it's hard to admit, Lando has a lot of power over you (and not just talking professionally).

He plays jokes on you, teases you, taunts you with that almost world champion smile that, to your misfortune, makes your heart race as fast as his car on a straightaway. Why couldn't he just be like Oscar? A polite nice kid who respects other people's boundaries, time and work. Lando is the opposite. Always trying to stand out, joking around with the other engineers or staff while everyone gives him the attention he needs.

"Moody genius face again?" he says to you something enter your peace, leaning against the dressing room table.

You roll your eyes as you continue to watch the scoreboard on the computer, Lando chuckles and sits in the empty chair across the table with his spare expression.

"And you again with that brain of a five year old. Don't you have anything better to do out there?" you ask as you pick up the papers from the scattered table and put them together.

He smiles, leaning toward you with that look he always uses to tease you.

"If I had it, I wouldn't be here bothering you. Sometimes you're not such a genius" he teases in his little voice.

You ignore him, you keep checking the data of the single-seater, you don't want to know anything more about him. Although you feel him coming and going behind you as you work. Sometimes you even look for him, but you force yourself to look at the screen. Then in a moment, you feel something cold go down your neck. A shiver runs down your back as you feel something wet on your skin. When you turn around, you see Lando's hand with traces of water and your back begin to get wet as you squeal in a low scream.

"Really?" you ask, closing your eyes in exasperation.

"You were too focused. You needed a little fun" he says winking his eye.

You take a deep breath counting to ten so you don't make a scene and push away from your chair, brushing the ice off your shirt as you toss it somewhere. This is too much. You can't let this go on. You don't want to be a sourpuss, as he often says but you're here working so he can win tomorrow and all it does is annoy. Lando is confusing his dealings with you and it makes you feel nervous, anxious, desperate. Maybe because of the idea that you are confusing feelings for him too. This thing of his games, of his jokes is going somewhere else and you don't want to make your favorite place in the world your martyr. So you need to put a stop to this.

"I'm not your friend, Lando" you angrily renege, closing your computer. "I am not either your babysitter" you continue harshly. "Stop playing games and start growing up"

You give him an angry look but he just keeps standing there, in his chair as if nothing happened. His expression doesn't change. He sneers with his gaze. You shake your head in disbelief and decide you'd better get away from him.

You walk to the door and when you try to leave the dressing room, the door won't open. You force the handle, push with your shoulder. Nothing. You check to see if it's locked for some reason but it's not. You force the handle again and all to no avail.

You turn to him angrily.

"Is this another one of your jokes?" you ask in exasperation, you feel all the heat start to rise up your neck.

He raises his eyebrows in amusement.

"I didn't do anything. It's not all my fault, Yn" he mutters with some mockery and that idiot's grin.

You try to open the door again but instead, when you tug, the doorknob comes loose in your hand. Damn it. It can't be. You stare at it as all your ideas shoot out of your head, they're locked in.

Your breathing quickens. The noise from the circuit outside is just a distant murmur. You know the team is busy in the pit lane, on the monitors, anywhere but here. This room is only supposed to be for the drivers and they have privacy here, so it's usually a bit remote and out of everyone's sight. You can't be in here. You have to get out. Right now.

The air in the room seems to get thicker. You feel the walls closing in. Panic begins to seep into your chest. You throw the doorknob to the floor and pound on the door in desperation.

The palms of your hands begin to burn as you keep pounding on the door repeatedly, screaming for help. Your eyes water and you feel the weight in your throat as you swallow saliva. You need to breathe. You need to get out.

"¿Yn?" you hear him ask in the distance when your breathing becomes violent against your chest.

You try to get over it, you try to think of something else but you despair when you see the situation again. You feel like your body is going to faint and you stumble against your own body as you keep banging on the door.

"Hey, hey" his voice is low, firm, he takes your hand from behind and stops you. "Breathe"

Lando spins you around with his hands as you try to push him away but he grabs you around the waist again and pulls you away from the door. Your chest rises and falls violently as your vision blurs, you can barely recognize Lando in your blurred vision.

You try but your pulse races. You look to your sides as you feel your body tremble but his strong hands hold you. You shake your head. You will die in here.

"I-I can't, L-lando" your voice cracks as your lungs begin to burn. Your mind shuts down.

It's as if suddenly all the air has been sucked out of your body and you're under ten meters of ocean. You don't see clarity, you don't feel the air. Your body burns.

"Look at me, Yn" he whispers grabbing your face.

You feel something wet on your cheeks and although you can't think, you know they are your tears. You are desperate. You need to get out.

"Look at me, calm down" he repeats and you shake your head again, you can't see clearly.

His hands wrap around your body and a slight pressure on your lips makes your whole body bristle. Suddenly, his mouth is on yours. You feel the warmth of his mouth embrace yours as his hands wrap around your waist, drawing you to him.

Finally. You sigh for air and your lungs fill with oxygen before you reciprocate his kiss.

The kiss is soft and somewhat sweet. A few seconds later, though, it turns somewhat angry, desperate. It's everything you've both held back, all the hatred, the frustration, the tension built up in every argument, in every stolen glance. The fear. The fear of being here with him, alone, locked up. Of dying here.

The fear of admitting that Lando drives you crazy. But not because of his jokes or his boyishness but because of the attraction you feel for him. You've tried to ignore his teasing, his games, but the charming Lando effect has gotten to you too. And maybe that's why you were trying to keep a boundary with him, this is wrong. But you love it.

You hate that Lando now knows the weakest point in you. But you can't help but want to keep kissing him when his lips melt yours. It's like you've both been waiting for this moment. It's as if it's been planned.

His hands press you against him, as if he wants to melt you into his skin, his mouth continues to devour you as you hang on his neck. Everything is gone. The desperation, the nerves. It's just the two of you. Kissing fiercely in the room while no one else knows. While the whole world outside of you is going on and you two are here and everything else has stopped.

You respond with the same intensity, tangling your fingers in his wavy hair, biting his lip angrily. You feel him push you against the wall, his hands roaming your body urgently. The air between you is pure fire.

When his fingers slip under your shirt, when you rip the zipper off his racing suit, there's no turning back. You've just signed your sentence against the arrogant boy you hate but you can't stop. Not now.

There are no rules, there are no limits, there is no one else in the world but the two of you. And this time, neither one of you wants to stop.

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16wolke11 · 29 days ago

Note

can you do number 6 with lando? with like a semi-happy ending?

Baby Blues - Lando Norris

A/N Sorry for the long wait, had writer´s block...Hope you like it

WORDS: 1945

WARNINGS: Postpartum Depressions, Reader is not able to feel love for her baby _____

Working at home while having a small baby in the same house is always stressful. Will he sleep through the meeting, will he be sick on my shirt right before the video call, will he cry the whole time? I sit on the couch, laptop balancing on my legs while glancing at Lando’s and my baby boy again and again. Hoping that he will keep sleeping every time he stirs. His little blabbing sound gets louder, and I sigh, trying to stay concentrated on the screen.

Then he starts to cry, and I tense up. Maybe he will calm down himself in a bit. He does get quieter again and I quickly keep typing my email, but then, just when the front door of the apartment opens, he cries out loudly. I can hear Lando’s footsteps entering the living room and before I can even bring myself to move and walk to the crib, Lando is right there.

“Hey there little fella. Why are you so unhappy?” Lando coos at the little baby boy, scooping him up in his arms, almost instantly stopping the crying. My heart aches at this easy act for Lando and I try not to look at them, when Lando walks over.

“Look, there is your mommy.” Lando tells our son, taking one of his tiny arms in his hand to wave at me, while having this adorable smile on his lips, but I just wave my hand dismissively.

“Not now.”

“Hm, she is a little grumpy, but nothing we can't fix with a little snack.” Lando mumbles, my heart clenching at the soft tone he uses with our son, and I don't even mind him assuming I am just a little grumpy. Maybe that's for the better. Him not knowing that empty space in my heart which is supposed to be filled with the love for our little bundle of joy. That he thinks I just had a bad day and nothing more. I can hear him rummaging in the kitchen, his voice telling soothing stories and I need to blink away the tears at the image of him getting along with parenting at ease.

Lando comes back into the living room, one arm wrapped around our baby boy, the other carrying a plate with fruits and some cookies. “Here.” He says, handing over the plate to me and I offer him a smile, before taking it and placing my laptop on the small coffee table.

“Thank you.” It's honest, but my voice is dull and Lando tilts his head to the side, scanning my face to detect anything that would tell him about my feelings. I lower my eyes, looking on the plate instead of his eyes and take the first piece of fruit, not even remembering the last time I ate something in peace without worrying about anything. When the baby squeals in Lando’s arms I flinch but try to act like nothing happened.

“Everything okay?” Lando asks me while swaying his arms softly to sooth our son. “Hm.” I just hum, eyes lingering on the small person and Lando interprets my look as something different.

“Want to hold him?” He offers, arms already outstretching to hand him over, but I shuffle backwards, shaking my head. “No.” I whisper and confusion plasters over Lando’s face. He waits, like he expects an explanation, before a soft sigh leaves his lips.

“Should I bring him to his crib, and we talk about it?” My heart stops, but at the same time everything inside me screams “Please.” I need to talk with Lando about everything, stop hiding my feelings even though I don't know how he will react to any of this.

“Yes.” I manage to choke out, not able to take another look at Lando and wait for him to leave, before I pull my legs to my chest. Curling up in the corner of the couch until Lando comes back into the living room.

He sits down, just a bit beside me, leaving space like he doesn't know if I want to be closed to him. “Come here?” Lando offers, opening his arms and I don't hesitate before cuddling myself to his chest. Smelling that faint scent of the newborn which isn't as comforting as I hoped it to be. We sit there in silence, Lando’s fingers faintly drawing patterns on my back, but he doesn't pressure me into saying anything. I know this time slot is limited, with the small baby needing attention soon, so I gather all my courage to finally speak up.

“I am not able to feel joy when I look at him.” I whisper, eyes squeezed closed and Lando’s movements on my back stop. He doesn't say anything, and I can't imagine the look on his face while my own heartbeat starts to race. Feeling like I need to talk more about it but not being able to bring any word over my lips.

“Nothing?” Lando asks, his voice soft but no trace of judgement. His grip tightens around me, giving me a feeling of being safe, secured and leading to me speaking up again.

“No. Not like it was during the pregnancy or right after giving birth.” During the pregnancy I loved the little baby inside of me, couldn't wait to meet him, talked about nonsense and imagined to hold him tight to my chest. Right after giving birth the bliss stayed, but it faded and left nothing.

“Now I see him, and my heart is empty. Not hating him but not being able to feel any bit of happiness.” I explain, not wanting it to seem like I despise that small baby which should bring me so much joy, but it just doesn't.

“I try, I want to love him, but it is like I am not capable of it.” My voice cracks and I rest my head against Lando’s shoulder, feeling tired of the confession, but at the same time glad to finally say it out loud. His fingers started to trace those random patterns again, transferring a relaxed feeling through my body, but I do stay tense a little bit.

“Thank you for being honest.” Lando mumbles, voice still soft but hurt and I am sure he tries to understand me, but at the same time doesn't feel the same.

“There is more.” I dare to say, feeling him tense up beside me, before he just tightens his grip around me again, his head resting on mine now. “Just keep going, I am here.” He promises and I take a deep breath.

“I struggle to stop the crying, struggle to not leave the room and let him be.” His cries make me feel anxious, make me want to flee the room and not come back before it stopped. “Once I just stood there and couldn't do anything.” I remember how I just looked at his little face becoming more and more red, his cries more erratic, but I just stared and couldn't move, couldn't do anything but watch.

“The world feels like it is going to collapse around me sometimes.” One wrong step, one too harsh wind and everything would crumble down and leave nothing behind.

“Why didn't you tell me?” Lando’s voice is hurt, but he still doesn't try to accuse me of anything. Still trying to understand everything.

“It all looks so easy for you, but I can’t bring myself to feel love when I cradle him in my arms.” Lando looks natural while caring for him, like it is easy for him, and he never even struggled with anything regarding that little baby boy. “Its not easy for me, because I don't know if what I am doing is okay or if I am going to hurt him.” I add, always fearing to hurt him with anything I am doing. Lando is silent for a moment, before he sighs.

“It is not easy for me two leave you two behind when I should be with you.” He tells me, voice rough like struggles to admit it. I know it was hard for him to leave for races, but not that he thought so much about it.

“I want you to know I struggle as well, at different parts, but you're not alone.” Lando’s voice is so soft again, but he quickly pulls the attention away from himself again, focussing on us, on me. “Not to make this about me, I want to talk about your concerns.”

I think for a moment, all of the thoughts racing in my head. There are so many concerns in my head, so many things I fear to do wrong, that I don't even know what to pick first, but then the first just bubbles out of me.

“What if he is sick and I don’t realise because I can’t pick the difference between the different crying patterns?”

“I just use the trial an error.” Lando shrugs his shoulders and just when I am about to ask, he explains. “Sniff and maybe change the nappy, offer a bottle or just walk around with him and tell him nonsense. If nothing helps, I panic and call my mom.”

The last bit caught me off guard and I sit up to look at his face “You call your Mom?” I ask him, slightly panicking because I don't know if that is the greatest idea. Wouldn't she judge us for not being able to care for our own child? Something we should be better in that everyone else.

“She is the adult, I am just trying.” Lando smiles softly, reassuring like he is already sensing the panic.

“And…and she doesn't judge you?” I ask, knowing that Cisca is usually pretty loving, but also wants people to do things alone. Learn to be on their own when there is no one to help and greatly supports people who try to master something new.

“Not at all, she is just happy to help.” Lando explains and plants an idea in my head. If Cisca is really not judging Lando for asking for help, maybe she could be an even bigger relieve for us.

“Do you think she could come over sometimes and help me? Especially if you are not here.” I ask Lando, especially hoping for the last bit, because those times are always the worst. When I need to help him with his needs, but can’t seem to fall asleep myself, eat properly and maybe become a danger to him because of neglecting my own needs.

“I don't want to hurt him accidentally when no one is around.” I whisper and Lando carefully takes my hands in his. “I try to get better, but I think I need help.” I admit, knowing this is something I should have admitted before, but it is finally time to say it out loud.

“She would love to help us.” Lando promises me and the memory of Cisca´s happy face when we told her about the pregnancy comes back. She adored our son before he was even born, and this is probably the best solution.

“And I help you to find solutions for you to get better.” Lando ads with a softer voice and my lower lip quivers slightly. This was what I needed, a conversation without accusations, Lando who promises that things get better and his help to get the courage for asking for help.

“I love you.” I mumble. Loving him for his support, his gentleness and his understanding even though he doesn't feel the same things.

“I love you too.” Lando says, forehead leaning against mine in a silent promise that everything is going to be okay.

#f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 one shot #f1 fluff #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #lando x reader #lando norris x reader #lando norris angst #f1 angst #ln4 imagine #ln4 x reader #ln4 fic #lando norris fic

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strayingawayy · 7 months ago

Text

the great kitten swap...

where minho's little girl's beloved kitty gets lost, and he can't see his baby girl upset now, can he?

the living room was alive with the sound of tiny, gleeful giggles as sora darted around the couch, her three-year-old legs moving as fast as they could. her cheeks were flushed pink, and her tangled hair bounced with each step. in her sights was her constant companion, a mischievous kitten named nari, who dashed out of reach like it was all part of the game.

minho leaned against the kitchen counter, sipping his coffee, his lips quirking into a smile. beside him, you were flipping through a book, though your attention kept drifting to the scene in front of you.

“she’s going to tire herself out chasing that poor kitten,” you murmured with a chuckle, nudging minho.

he hummed in agreement, though his grin widened. “nari seems to enjoy the attention. they’re like two peas in a pod.”

but that peaceful, happy moment was short-lived.

⠀ ‎ ♡^᪲᪲᪲...

it started the next morning. sora wandered into the kitchen, clutching her leebit plushie , her eyes wide and worried.

“papa,” she said softly, her voice trembling. “where’s nari?”

minho stiffened, his coffee cup halfway to his mouth. your gaze snapped to him, a silent exchange passing between the two of you. he cleared his throat, crouching down to sora’s level.

“maybe nari’s playing hide-and-seek,” he offered, his tone far too casual.

sora frowned, her lower lip wobbling. “but she always wins.”

you sighed, crouching beside them and rubbing sora’s back soothingly. “don’t worry, sweetheart. we’ll find her. she probably found a really good hiding spot this time.”

but as the day stretched on and there was still no sign of nari, panic began to set in.

⠀ ‎ ♡^᪲᪲᪲...

for a week, minho scoured the neighborhood, asking neighbors and checking every nook and cranny in and around the house. you called shelters, posted online, and even stuck up flyers. but nari was nowhere to be found.

sora, meanwhile, grew quieter by the day, her usual sunny demeanor dulled by the absence of her best friend. it broke your heart.

one evening, as the two of you sat on the couch brainstorming what to do, minho suddenly snapped his fingers. “i have an idea.”

you raised an eyebrow. “should i be worried?”

he smirked. “when are you not?”

⠀ ‎ ♡^᪲᪲᪲...

the next afternoon, minho arrived home with a small carrier in hand. when he opened it, out stepped a kitten—a near-identical twin of nari. you stared at him, equal parts impressed and incredulous.

“minho, is this…?”

“nari 2.0,” he said with a sheepish grin. “sora’s too little to notice the difference, right?”

you sighed, shaking your head. “this is either going to work perfectly or blow up in our faces.”

but to both your surprise and relief, sora squealed with delight the moment she saw “nari” again.

“she’s so shiny now!” she exclaimed, scooping up the kitten and spinning in a circle.

minho shot you a triumphant look. you just rolled your eyes and smiled.

⠀ ‎ ♡^᪲᪲᪲...

two weeks passed, and things were going smoothly. sora was back to her bubbly self, and the imposter kitten seemed perfectly content in its new role. but then, on an otherwise uneventful tuesday afternoon, you heard a familiar meow from the front door.

minho froze mid-step, his eyes snapping toward the sound.

“oh no,” he muttered.

the real nari was back.

she strutted into the house like she owned the place, her tail flicking with the confidence of a queen reclaiming her throne. sora, who was playing in the living room, looked up and gasped, her eyes darting between the two cats.

“papa,” she said slowly, pointing at the original nari. “who’s that?”

you and minho exchanged panicked glances.

“that’s…” minho began, his mind clearly scrambling for an answer. “that’s nari’s…secret cousin. yeah, her cousin.”

“her cousin?” sora asked, her head tilting in confusion.

“yup,” you chimed in, forcing a bright smile. “her name is…miso.”

sora blinked, her gaze shifting between the two cats again. finally, she nodded. “okay. hi, miso!”

both of you exhaled in relief. crisis averted—at least for now.

⠀ ‎ ♡^᪲᪲᪲...

for the next few weeks, the house became a circus of sorts, with the two cats adjusting to their shared life and sora happily doting on both of them. the original nari didn’t seem to mind the imposter, and miso quickly learned to share the attention.

one evening, as you tucked sora into bed, she looked up at you with a sly smile.

“umm...papa?” she said softly, her voice carrying a hint of mischief. “i know miso is nari.”

your heart skipped a beat, and you glanced at minho, who looked just as stunned.

“you do?” he asked, his voice carefully neutral.

sora nodded, her smile widening. “but it’s okay. i like having two naris.”

minho chuckled, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “you’re too smart for us, you know that?”

she giggled, curling under her blanket. “goodnight. i love you.”

as you turned off the light, you exchanged a look with minho, both of you grinning. your family might have been a little unconventional, and chaotic. but it was absolutely perfect.

inspired by this and requested by @wandamaxoff

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lavender-bun · 2 years ago

Note

jj and routledge!reader fucking on the kitchen counter and the pogues catch them 👀

(GIF not mine)

WARNINGS | 18+ MDNI! smut, p in v, unprotected, getting caught in the act

A/N | where can I get myself a JJ 🙂

◃◦--------------●--------------◦▹

"C'mon, gotta be quick," JJ mumbled against your lips, picking you up by your thighs, and carrying through the Chateau.

The others were following a clue about the cross while you and JJ decided to stay behind this time, more specifically you decided to stay home because you just finished your shift at the wreck and wanted to relax, JJ just didn't want you to be alone.

Now here you both were, making out in the middle of the living room until JJ started to walk with you towards the kitchen, setting you down on the counter, his hands roaming your body needily.

Your arms are wrapped around his neck, pulling him impossibly close, squealing when he pinched your nipple through your t-shirt. He grabs the hem of it to pull it over your head in a quick motion.

"No bra?" he smirked, pinching again to see you arch your back. "Naughty girl."

"Jay- please...need you," you whined, hands reaching down to palm him through his shorts, smirking at the way he groaned at your touch.

He kept kissing you and playing with your breast while you blindly freed his cock, stroking him. He flipped your work skirt up, pushing your panties to the side, fingers going through your folds.

"So wet for me already and I've barely done anything." he chuckled and you smirked again, squeezing his cock a little, making him hiss. "Easy, cupcake."

"You gonna fuck me now or-" You cut yourself off with a gasp when you felt him push inside, throwing your head back. "Fuck- JJ!"

"Be as loud as you can, is not often we'll get this opportunity." he reminded you, pulling back out slowly only to slam back inside.

He set a rather quick rhythm, head leaning down to suck and nibble at your neck, his hands gripping onto your waist.

"Shit! Just like that." You moaned loudly.

"What the fuck!?"

Your head snapped to the side and you cursed under your breath, quickly jumping off the counter and picking up your shirt from the ground. JJ shielded you from the others while you got dressed, fixing his pants himself, waiting for you to finish before turning around to the others with a grin.

"Can't you guys keep it in your pants for once?" John B glared at you both, hands on his hips, Kie and Pope snickered behind him.

"We clearly didn't expect you to come back so soon." You shrugged.

"Yeah, no shit."

John B had a hard time getting used to his best friend dating his little sister, but as long you're happy and JJ doesn't mess it up he's okay with it, knowing it was a matter of time anyway with the way you undressed each other every time you were in the same room.

"Told you we need to be quick," JJ remarked and you hit his arm.

"Sorry JB." You grimaced and he sighed, rubbing his hands over his face.

"This is a picture I'll never get out of my head." He groaned and you all laughed while he went to the fridge to get a beer, handing you and JJ one as well. "Let's hope this helps me forget," he said before taking a long sip.

◃◦--------------●--------------◦▹

Taglist

For everything:

@lokigirlszendaya @buckymydarlingangel @superlegend216

#jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj x reader #jj maybank smut #jj maybank x female reader #jj maybank x fem!reader #jj maybank x routledge!reader #obx x reader #obx fanfiction #obx fic #obx smut #outer banks smut #outer banks x reader #jj maybank drabble

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ickytreats · 3 days ago

Text

Sitting on Dad's lap like a good daughter as mom is in the kitchen cooking. I'm in shorts and a crop top, no panties or bra because who needs those at home? Dad's running his hand up and down my hip occasionally grabbing the plush on it. you don't mind if I change the channel, do you? I'm just getting bored of this baby, dad says as he grabs the remote. I nod, go ahead dad! I don't mind. I smile at him and kiss his cheek, and he squeezes my hip extra tight. I watch as he goes to his favorite channel, the adult channel.

A random porn video now playing on the family room tv. It caught both of our eyes as we watched excitedly, you see how she's enjoying it? Dad says as he pulls me closer, sitting me right over his bulge. I nod and lay my hand over his holding it, she sounds really pretty. She does doesn't she? You can tell they both are enjoying themselves, dad says as he shifts around. His bulge grinding into me as I take in a sharp breath, you don't mind...do you, princess? He takes his free hand and taps my cunt, I smile and stand up. Of course I don't mind dad, I giggle and pull my shorts down as he frees his cock.

That's a good girl for me, he pulls me onto his lap again. I lean on him as we watch the tv, the girls moans echo through the house. This video makes me miss your sister, dad moans as he slowly pushes his cock into me. I moan and nod, s-she'll apparently be back soon...it' should be short work trip. I bit my lip and roll my eyes as we continue to watch the video as I bounce on his cock. As he fucks me mom comes into the living room, oh good! Your taking care of your father, she smiles and comes closer as Dad now grips my hips tighter. He starts to fuck up into me and I moan, yes mama. Good girl! She smiles and coos your little brother should be home from work soon and you know how he is. Can't get enough of his mommy, dad laughs. Exactly, such a mama's boy. Mom shakes her head and brings a hand to my clit.

My hips jolt as she starts to rub my clit. Little bro always gets you mom, I pout but then moan when dad shifts his hips. I know baby but your brother is just a little stressed with work right now. She says softly and leans in to kiss me, I promise you'll get my attention soon. With mom rubbing my clit and dad fucking me I cum quick with a loud moan. Just then the front door opens, of course she's on Dad's cock already. Hey! Respect your big sister, dad moans. She's on my cock so you can have your mother peacefully, my little brother walks over and grabs mom by the waist. I get to have mom? He kisses her and she kisses him back with an excited smile. Of course you do, now be nice to your sister.

Yeah b-be nice to me, I try to tease as Dad keeps fucking me. I'll be nice, he smiles and leans in kissing me then dad. Mom isn't even waiting for him to sit down as she's undoing his belt. She's eager for her son's cock, and we are watching our favorite channel. When are we not? Dad sits me on his cock, not moving just filling me as I whimper. Mom pushes little bro onto the couch across the room and straddles him. We have perfect views of each other, she pulls her house dress up revealing she has no shorts or panties under. Little brother moans as she sinks down on him. This is perfect, mom smiles and moans as she starts to ride his cock.

Just as I'm pulling off Dad's cock little bro decides to mention her. Too bad sis isn't here, dad's pulling me back harshly and fucking into me meanly. I squeal at the suddenness, let the girl think she can live without us...she'll be crawling back soon asking the be fucked. Fuck! I squeal as dad is shoving me onto the couch, changing our position but not missing a beat. You just had to mention her? I grab onto the couch and moan as Dad uses my cunt. Can you two not? Your sister will be back, mom moans and lightly grabs little brother's neck as she rides him. Behave, yes mom! He moans and throws his head back letting mom use him. And when she does get back unless she's begging no one is fucking her, dad grabs my hair. My body starts to shake as another orgasm comes for me but this time Dad follows behind filling me. Both of us are panting watching Mom and little bro, he's already squirming.

Close already? I tease and giggle earning a spank from dad. Don't tease your brother or you'll get another too, yes dad. I smile and bite my lip, mom! Mom I'm gonna cum! Little bro announces as he gasps under her and she smiles, cum for mama. With a loud needy whine he cums but mom doesn't stop, she keeps riding him. Mom! He squirms and gasps in overstimulation, just a second. She moans as she rides him, she wants her own orgasm. Mom kisses him as she cums and the room is almost silent. The only thing heard is the porn videos outro and our pants.

I'm serious about y'all's sister, dad says as he finally pulls out of me. I whine at the empty feeling and at the cum going down my thighs. Honey... No, when she comes back no one fucks her until she's crying and begging. Make her regret that "little trip" we all know is bull crap. Dad grabs my neck and kisses me then settles back. And when she begs? Don't give it to her, understand? Yes dad... mom looks between us all, come on now. She pulls off of little brother's cock, cum falling out of her. Dinners ready, she smiles and fixes her dress as dad fixes his pants. They both stand up then share a kiss and go ahead, fuck... Little bro says as he looks at me, that's going to be...fun. I smile and stand up with shaky movement as I grab my shorts. Definitely, he fixes his pants and kisses me. Bitch deserves to cry...

There's been so many asks about whole fam stuff but I've just not been feeling it...why did this end up being the most detailed thing I've written in a while!?

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motorsportbarbie13 · 8 months ago

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The Princess & The Pilot - Part 3

In which you sneak away to Monaco to see a boy.

Warnings: angst in the middle/end. swearing. a little spicy in the beginning but nothing explicit. Pairing: Lando Norris x BritishPrincess!Reader Word Count: 3.7k words

- The Princess & The Pilot - Part 1 - The Princess & The Pilot - Part 2 - Master List

"I can't believe you've never seen Breakfast at Tiffany's. That's like, a crime against humanity." You tease Lando as flop down onto his couch Thursday night before the Monaco Grand Prix.

You had spent most of the day shopping with your cousin while Lando had been in the paddock taking care of media duties. As soon as he was done though, he had come straight back to his apartment and you had slipped your protection officers to join him. It had been a simple operation, made much easier due to the fact that Alice and Lando lived in the same building and your protection officers were stationed downstairs in the doorman's office for the weekend. They only followed you, at a discreet distance, when you were out walking around.

Part of your shopping trip had included a stop at the grocery store so you could pick up the ingredients to make your famous roasted chicken with lemon butter penne pasta after being both shocked and horrified at the state of his pantry and fridge. 'I'm never home and my nutritionist makes all my food!' was his defense, which you understood but wanted him to have a home cooked meal anyway.

The meal had been a huge hit and both of you were stuffed as you settled down in his spacious living room for a quiet movie night.

"I'm sorry if I prefer Sylvester Stallone over Audrey Hepburn, princess." Lando quips, tugging you even closer to him.

He had been fully distracted the entirety of media day, knowing that you were somewhere in the city without him. The moment you had texted him that your plane had landed in Nice and you were taking a helicopter into Monaco he'd been distracted. Between your first 'date' at the pub and now, he'd only been able to see you briefly a few evenings before he had to be at the race in Italy.

Those fleeting evenings when he had snuck in to your London townhome through the back door hadn't been enough for either of you. The first night you had cooked him dinner while you talked for hours about your royal upbringing, his family, and everything in between. It had felt so natural and so easy, unlike anything either of you had experienced before.

On the large flat screen TV in front of you, the opening credits began to roll on one of your favorite movies while you snuggled deeper into Lando's side. With how busy you both had been the last few weeks, this little slice of privacy and quiet time had you feeling beyond relaxed.

While Lando had been in Italy, you had been busy with a new foundation that helped support families of children who had received a terminal diagnosis. You had started the foundation at the urging of your parents earlier in the year and while you had been hesitant at first, not sure if you were strong enough to handle such painful stories, you found yourself pouring everything you had into the foundation.

It had been something you'd gushed over at dinner tonight and Lando had been utterly bewitched by the way you had lit up while talking about your work. And now, as the movie began and the sun set over the edge of the Mediterranean Sea outside, Lando was finally going to get his hands on you like he'd been thinking about since the last time he had kissed you.

"You are such a boy." You say, groaning at him knocking your preferences in movies.

Lando reaches across your waist and yanks you onto his lap in one swift movement so quickly your only reaction is a squeal. "I thought we were watching a movie, Norris." You say, nose mere millimeters away from his.

His heated breath tickles at your cheek while his large hands settle heavily on your hips. "I can think of better things to do with our time, princess."

The scrape of his voice drags a thick line of heat down your spine and you can't help the way your hips roll into his ever so slightly. "Oh?"

On a whim, you reach up and bury your fingers in Lando's curls, still damp from his shower he took earlier in the evening. You scratch at his scalp, enjoying the way he shudders underneath you. It makes you feel powerful, knowing that just the lightest touch from you makes him putty in your hands.

Lando's strong fingers flex against the flesh at your hips as a gravely moan tumbles from his lips, setting your skin aflame. He claws at you, desperately pulling you closer while craning his neck to latch onto the sensitive skin at your neck.

He trails featherlight kisses up the column of your neck, dusting up your jaw, and finally lands on your waiting mouth. The way your body melts around him has him growing needier by the minute. A satisfied moan spills from your lips when his tongue slips into your mouth for the first time, the warmth from his body seeping deeper into your core. "Lan..." You sigh into his mouth, fully immersed in the way he tastes, dark and forbidden.

Lando drags his hands slowly up from your hips towards your back, finally slipping under the hem of the cotton tank top you're wearing. You arch against him at the feeling of his heated touch searing your bare skin while your hips grind down searching for the friction your body so badly craves from him.

Your hands are still buried deep in his hair when a sudden loud knock yanks the both of you out of the trance you'd been lost it.

"The fuck?" Lando grumbles, lifting your hips up gently so he can get up to answer the door.

Running your fingers through your hair, you sigh and flop back against the couch. The ache in between your legs throbs at the sudden loss of pressure from being sat so deeply on Lando's lap. The way you had felt his dick straining against his sweatpants had you craving tumbling into bed with him.

"She needs to come back down, like now." Your ears perk up at the sound of your cousin's voice.

Rising, you get up to join Lando at the door, running your fingers through your now tousled hair. "What's wrong?" You ask, voice still a bit husky from your make out session moments before.

Alice eyes you over Lando's shoulder, arching a perfectly sculpted brow at you. "Well, now I can see why you didn't answer your phone the first ten times Nathan called you."

"We were watching a movie!" You protest lamely. Alice scoffs and even Lando chuckles a bit, leading you to swat at him.

"Yeah, okay. Well, he's worried that you're in my apartment dead or something because apparently you haven't called your father or mother since you got here and everyone is convinced you're dead."

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes, "Oh for fucks sakes. I am 25 years old for the love of God. Fine, I'll go call them now."

Alice shakes her head. "I bought you some time by telling Nathan you're in the shower but he wants to talk to you in twenty minutes. You need to come back down."

You groan, annoyed that your evening has been interrupted by your parents weird need to know exactly where you are. You know that your safety is of the utmost importance to everyone around you and that yours was a unique situation with you being the daughter of the King of England and all, but this was just stupid.

"Fine. Can you give us a second? I'll be down in five."

Alice narrows her eyes at you before turning her gaze onto Lando. "No more funny business, send her down in five minutes. I'm not taking the fall for the both of you."

Alice turns on her heel and retreats back towards the elevator before Lando shuts the door quietly, chuckling a bit. "Well, I guess our evening is over."

You groan, scrubbing the heels of your hands over your face. "I am so embarrassed."

Lando's hands land heavily on your waist as he pulls you into him. "Don't be, it's nice your parents are so concerned."

"You say that now." You warn, nuzzling into his neck as Lando drops a kiss onto the crown of your head.

"It's okay, really." Lando reaches for your chin to tilt your head upwards so he can look you in the eye. "Go down and check in and hang out with your cousin. I have a team thing tomorrow night but Saturday night, I'm all yours."

You stretch your neck up so you can dust your lips over his, humming a bit when Lando leans in, deepening the kiss. "Can't wait."

The paddock on Sunday morning was an intense hive of activity. Lando was with his team, preparing for the race and you were wandering around the paddock with Alice. Around your neck swing your McLaren branded VIP passes. All it had taken was an off-handed comment from Lando about how you had mentioned back at Silverstone that you wanted to attend a race and that you happened to be in town visiting your cousin to get Zak to call up your secretary and offer you official passes.

You could sense Nathan and Victor behind you, both of them not even willing to entertain the possibility of you going to the race alone. You were used to it though and the four PO's that had travelled with you had been with you for years, so you all worked really well together. They, for the most part, left you alone and kept their distance. Just like Lando in the pub that first night, most people never even noticed that you had body guards even present.

The race is set to start in an hour or so, with the driver's parade already completed. You're supposed to head towards the garage in a few minutes for a quick photo op with Oscar and Lando, which should prove interesting. It was imperitve that you appeared to be nothing more than aquaintences with Lando since the public could not know about the growing relationship between the pair of you.

Relationships as a princess were hard. When you were younger, in your teens and at uni, you had been much more open with your personal life but a particularly bad experience with a boyfriend who only had wanted to date you for the clout, had left a sour taste in your mouth.

And there was also your parents to contend with. Your mother especially was intensely sensitive about any bad press the family might recieve and you had a feeling that a relationship with one of Formula One's known playboys was top on the list for 'press nightmares'

So, Lando and you had agreed that until you were sure where this was going, it was best to keep things completely private. You could appear to know each other in public but that was it. Which was fine with you because you knew, at the end of the day, that you would be the one going up to his apartment and spending time there instead of anyone else.

"Is that Lando?" Your cousin asks as you approach the McLaren garage.

You glance over and sure enough, you see Lando with his back towards you, leaning against the wall of the garage talking to a very blonde model looking girl who is gazing up at Lando with literal heart eyes. Your heart sinks straight down to your toes at the look of pure delight on her face. "Who is that?" You choke out, hands going clammy.

"It looks like...no." Alice murmurs. "That fucking git. That's Gigi Voss. She's an American model." She turns to you now, concern etched on her face at how you've frozen in place in the middle of the paddock just staring at Lando and the girl.

"He's brought her home before, hasn't he?" You say, voice weak. The intense feeling of embarassment courses through you. Alice's text message from weeks ago clangs through your memory. He never brings back the same girl twice. Well, it looked like you were going to be the next victim of that little habit, didn't it?

God, you were such an idiot.

"Well, I guess that takes care of that." You say lightly, drawing on every bit of training your mother has drilled into you since you were old enough to talk. The way you switched into public princess mode was effortless, a seamless switching off of your emotions to the outside world. "Come on, they wanted to get some photos of me in the garage before they head out onto the track."

"Are you okay?" Alice says quietly, as you pass Lando and the girl and head into the garage when you see Zak and Oscar chatting.

"I have to be." You murmur before mentally preparing to tug on that perfect princess mask you are going to use as armor for the next foreseeable future.

When Lando comes into the garage moments later, he's totally unaware to the storm brewing inside you. He politely greets you but is a little surprised when you barely spare him a glance, the cool nod you give him before turning back to laugh at something Oscar says has his stomach churning.

You continue to blatantly ignore him for the next twenty minutes and Lando begins to realize that something's wrong. He'd been prepared for you to be politely distant from him, with you insisting that you couldn't appear to be anything more than aquaintences in public, but this was on another level. And the dirty looks that Alice kept shooting him when no one was looking had anxiety curling deep in his chest.

You're standing to the side of the garage when Lando's finally had enough.

"Do you wanna maybe tell me why you're suddenly channeling an ice princess instead of behaving like my princess?" He hisses, voice so low that no one else could possibly hear you over the noise in the garage.

You simply regard him with a cool look, "Maybe Gigi would know the answer to that." You say lightly before pushing off the tool box you'd been leaning against. "Alice," You call, switching on that megawatt smile that Lando knows is 100% fake. "Lets go get settled in the hospitality suite, yeah? Good luck out there today, Lando."

Without a second look back, you flounce away with Alice's hand tucked into the crook of your elbow.

Gigi? The fuck? Lando panics. Had you seen him talking to the model earlier? Oh this was bad. Very bad.

"Alice, Jesus Christ just let me talk to her and I'll explain everything." Lando begs later that night.

He had been distraught the entire race and afterwards during his media duties, wanting nothing more than to explain exactly what you had seen earlier in the day. Text messages went unanswered, calls too. Even Alice seemed to have blocked him on everything so he'd been forced to just show up at her door the moment he'd been finished with his interviews. He had finished P4 so his time in the media pen and after hadn't been that long comparitvly but every minute that sluggishly inched by was a minute longer Lando knew you were spending angry at him.

Alice stands at the door, arms folded across her chest, glaring at the driver. "I warned her about you, you know and you had to go and prove me right. You athletes are the same, you know that?" She spits.

"It wasn't what it looked like, I swear." He begs, craning his neck to peer around Alice's frame to see inside her apartment.

"It's fine, Allie. You can let him in." From somewhere in the apartment, your voice calls out. Lando can hear the raw scratch in your voice, like you've been crying, and his stomach bottoms out. He'd really made a mess of this, hadn't he? He was sure the photos that some fan had posted of him and Gigi before the race hadn't helped either but fuck, would no one allow him to get in a word edgewise?

Lando's heart squeezes painfully when Alice steps out of the way and he sees you for the first time. Your eyeliner is smudged and your cheeks are flushed an unpleasant shade of red. It's not the pink flush that he's seen before, the kind of flush that he draws out of you when he kisses you. No, this is a painful, angry flush that's the result of too much anger and embarrassment.

"Baby." He pleads, taking three long strides towards where you stand in the middle of Alice's living room.

Much to his dismay, you back up in order to keep yourself out of arms length and shake your head.

"Can we go somewhere private and talk? Please?" It was a step in the right direction that you had allowed Alice to let him through the door, so Lando was going to push until he got what he needed to say out.

You nod, feeling stupid and silly for jumping into things with someone who wasn't on the same page as you. The text message he sent the day of his Miami win shuffles through your mind. 'You know I stopped looking at other girls the day I met you.'

What utter bullshit.

You'd been staying in Alice's spare bedroom this week so you lead him down the hallway towards the room. Alice calls out that if you need her, she'll be in the kitchen before shooting one last glare Lando's way.

Lando shuts the door behind him while you sit down on the bed cross legged. "So?" You look up at him expectantly. "You said it wasn't what it looked like. So, what was it."

Lando drags his hands through his curls, still damp with sweat from the race. "She wasn't supposed to even be here this weekend."

"Oh, so her weekend was the next race? Did you get your girlfriends schedules mixed up then?" You grit out, fists grabbing a handful of bedspread to avoid punching him.

Lando shakes his head. He wasn't doing a very good job at explaining himself, was he? "No. Fuck. That's not what I meant baby."

"Stop calling me baby." You hiss.

He looks at you miserably before shaking his head. "She wasn't supposed to be here because she's supposed to be banned from paddock access by the FIA."

"What?" You whisper, blinking up at Lando in surprise.

Lando scrubs the his hands over his face, wondering how this all went so badly so quickly. "We went on a couple of dates last year."

You hate the way your heart sinks at the thought of him dating someone else.

"And that was it." He continues, crossing the room to sit on the bed in front of you. He sends up a silent prayer of thanks when you don't push him away. "That was it because she started trying to soft launch us on social media. When rumors started that we were dating, she fueled them by liking comments and even called the paparazzi when we were on a date. I was nothing more than a means to an end for her."

Your heart tugs painfully at the thought of Lando being used for his status. You of all people knew what that felt like and knew how miserable it was to wonder if the person you were with was around because of you or because of who you were to the outside world.

"Lan..." You murmur, reaching out for his hand. He looks so miserable then, eyes shining like he's about to start crying.

"I broke it off with her but she didn't want to take no for an answer. She started getting companies to pay for her paddock passes and would show up on random race weekends. I talked to Zak and got her banned from McLaren but there wasn't much I could do about the rest of the teams until she broke in to my house six months ago."

"She what?" You gasp.

"Yeah. She somehow slipped past the doorman and figured out the key code to my front door. I got home at 2am after the race in Las Vegas and she was sleeping naked in my bed."

"Oh my God, Lando." Your head spins just thinking about what that must have felt like, coming home after what you knew had been a traumatic race in Vegas last year only to find someone you didn't want in your house.

"I didn't press charges in exchange for her agreeing to be blacklisted from any FIA events. When I saw her in the paddock today, I panicked. I didn't want her to make a scene so I talked to her briefly before going straight to Zak and getting her tossed out. You can ask Osc if you don't believe me, he was there. It was right after you and Alice left the garage."

Your eyes soften as you look at how Lando sits, shoulders hunched.

"I'm so sorry I jumped to conclusions." You mutter, the feeling of betrayal being immediately replaced by embarrassment and shame.

"No, it was a perfectly acceptable reaction. I don't have the best reputation when it comes to women. I know that but..." He pauses, swallowing the thick lump of emotion that clogs his throat. "But I meant what I said after my win in Miami."

You smile, already knowing what he's referring to.

"I haven't so much as looked at another girl since I met you at Silverstone. I swear it, princess."

There's something so raw and real about the way he says the words to you. Deep down in your gut you know he's telling the truth. You've grown up needing to be able to read people really well and you consider yourself a pretty good judge of character and right now, you can tell that he's being honest with you.

"I believe you." You rasp, reaching out a hand to twine your fingers with his. "Do you want to go back to your place and finish watching the movie we started the other night?"

"Does this mean I'm forgiven?" Lando reaches out and pulls you into his lap, nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

"Yes." You whisper before finding his lips with yours in a searing kiss that makes everything else disappear.

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muwapsturniolo · 10 months ago

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𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧 𝐒𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞 🐰ྀི M & C Sturniolo

✘ fluff, mentions of smoking but that's it.

"Hold the damn camera Chris!"

"M'not the fucking YouTuber, Nick is!" Chris barks back, annoyance clear in his voice.

Matt and Chris were filming a surprise video for Nick's channel. They weren't in the YouTube scene unless they filmed with Nick or went to sell at the influencer parties—YouTube wasn't their thing. Despite the influencer scene not being their forte, the two had been high and came up with the bright idea to surprise their brother and their girlfriend with a bunch of barn animals.

They don't remember exactly how the idea formed, but they were hellbent on doing it. They formed a plan, deciding on setting everything up that following Wednesday when Bunny had ballet early and Nick had a meeting for his brand. It worked perfectly considering Nick would then pick Bunny up and they would come home at the same time.

So here they were, allowing the animal owner, Bianca, inside along with all the animals. "They are going to love this," Chris giggles as he zooms the camera in on the turtle.

"You said you two were surprising your brother and your girlfriend?" both boys nod at Bianca's question, smiles on their faces as they think about the surprise. "That's nice, who's the lucky guy with the girl?"

Before either boy could answer, they hear the front door opening, Nick immediately calling out, "We're home!"

"Hey Nick, hey Bunny," Nick and Bunny come up the stairs, Nick appearing first and stopping in his tracks.

"I'm never leaving the house again. What is going on?!" Bunny furrows her brows in confusion. She was still on the lower part of the stairs so she didn't see all the animals, however when she heard a duck quacking, she was quick to rush up the stairs.

She gasps and drops her bag in excitement, nothing but joy rushing through her veins, her exhaustion long forgotten. Her eyes dart around the living room, looking at all the animals and taking it in. She zeros in on the bunnies and squeals, diving forward and falling to her knees in front of the cage. She begins to talk to the bunnies through the cage, the pair of animal siblings flocking towards her and sniffing her fingers.

Nick walks into the living room fully, still in shock at how his home has been transformed. "Are you two surprised?" Chris asks, shoving the camera in Nick's face.

"In an odd way I am, but I'm not surprised by the activities you two like to do anymore." Chris rolls his eyes and turns the camera to Bunny who is still preoccupied with the bunnies.

"And what about you Bun? You surprised?" Matt asks as he squats down next to her. Instead of answering him, she turns towards Bianca with a hopeful look. "They are so cute! Am I allowed to hold them?!" Matt scoffs as he is being ignored, standing up once more and standing by Chris.

" Of course! If you want you can sit in the cage with them as well."

It's amusing to everyone how the girl climbs into the cage and starts playing with the rabbits, disregarding all the other animals in sight as well as the other people in the room. She looks in her element, in her own world, joy strewn across her face as the animals climb all over her.

As Chris and Matt film Nick, catching him awkwardly interacting with the animals, Bunny remains in the cage, having the time of her life.

It's like the furry animals recognize her as one of their own. The one in her arms manages to propel itself on top of her head, while the other two plant themselves in her lap. Her contagious giggles capture the attention of everyone and they can't help but swoon at the wholesome sight.

"Looks like Bun found her flock," Matt jokes, walking over and taking the rabbit off her head.

"Don't you want to hold one of the other animals' Bun?" She looks at the other animals and shakes her head, going back to feeding her 'people'.

After another hour, time is up and Bianca begins to gather her things and animals. "Come on ma, out the cage," Chris ushers softly, holding his hand out to help her stand up. The girl pouts and holds on to the bunnies. "Do they have to go?" Chris sucks in a sharp breath seeing her pout and her eyes soften.

Matt chuckles, "yes, they do. Come on, we don't want to hold Bianca up." She huffs and begrudgingly sets the animals down, allowing Chris and Matt to help her out of the cage.

As both boys hold on to her, missing her this whole day, Bianca speaks up. "Did you want to help me bring them to the car?" Bunny immediately wiggles out of Matt and Chris's grasp, scooping up one of the bunnies in her arm and bounding down the stairs.

Matt and Chris huff, but begin helping clean up the living room. Eventually, the livingroom was back to normal, the barn smell gone due to the cleaners that came.

Bunny bounds into Chris's room, fresh out of the shower and dressed in pajamas. She plants herself on Chris's lap, disregarding the blunt in his hand as he and Matt smoke. She smiles innocently at them, touching Chris affectionately. They both look at her with low red eyes - they already know she wants something. She never sits on their lap when they smoke, always opting to sit on the bed or going to be with Nick.

"What do you want?

"Who said I want something? I can't sit with my boy-" She stops her lies seeing the look Matt gives her. She huffs and crosses her arms, "Fine, I want a pet bunny."

"No" Matt and Chris answer at the same time. She furrows her brows, her face already going into a pout.

"Why not?!"

"Because none of us in this house are ready for a bunny out of all pets," Matt answers nonchalantly. She knows there is some truth to his words, but she can't help but be a brat about it. She huffs once more and pushes herself away from Chris, going to lie on his bed. She doesn't get far due to Matt turning her around and gripping her jaw softly.

"Drop the attitude, you know I'm right," she whines softly but does as told, knowing that she can't be mad about the truth. Matt chuckles and plants a soft kiss to her lips, " we can get a fish instead."

"Really?" Her eyes glow with excitement. A fish isn't a bunny, but she wouldn't mind settling for an aquatic animal. Matt chuckles and pats her butt, ushering her towards the bed.

"Go to sleep, you have practice tomorrow."

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris girl #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x reader #matt girl #sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo fluff #peaches bunny🍑

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httpsserene · 3 months ago

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it's us against the world — 𝐥𝐧. 𝟒 & 𝐨𝐩. 𝟖𝟏 lando norris x oscar piastri x twitchstreamer!fem!black!reader (poly!f1) 1.5k words. requested! by the lovely @ashiekins. not beta read. fluff. poly!f1. takes place during the 2025 preseason. power outage activities. marvel rivals. gamer terms and lingo. a love letter to landoscar.

༊࿐ ⊹ ˚. the first post back after my shadow ban was destined to be a landoscar drabble because i can't take the lando hate rn (thank you for reading even though i disappeared for a month...call me serenexkenshin atp)🤍

⌕ join taglist | share feedback | upcoming chapters | table of contents ↻

“Okay,” says Oscar. You imagine he’s blinking furiously to clear the bright spots in his vision caused by Lando blinding him with the flashlight for the third time in less than five minutes. “You are not allowed to hold the torch anymore—give it here.”

You snort, snugly tucking the final pillows into place before turning around to look at the brief scuffle in the dark hallway. The beam of light flashes around sporadically as they wrestle, giving you small glimpses of their silhouettes in the darkness, but not enough to see who has the upper hand. Oscar’s quiet grunts of effort are overshadowed by Lando’s impish squeals, and then, there’s a loud, heavy thump.

Lando abruptly falls silent, and the flashlight gets turned off.

“Oh?” Lando’s coquettish grin is audible around his panting breaths, “Slam me into the wall again, I think I kinda liked that.”

“Ew,” Oscar declares. You muffle a laugh behind your hand.

Lando rejoins you in the living room first, his pouty expression brightening as he takes in the completed pillow fort. The kindling fire in the small fireplace across the room casts a warm, romantic glow over his frame. You notice how the seaglass color of his eyes has deepened into a darker green in the shadows, the flecks of brown ringing his flared pupils even richer. Distracted by their beauty, you’re oblivious to how quickly he crossed the room to be by your side until he pulled you into a smooth kiss.

“Nicely done, love,” he hums against your lips, his trimmed facial hair tickling your skin.

“I can’t take all the credit,” you giggle, for no reason in particular. The quiet atmosphere of a house without power feels giddy and dizzying when you’re experiencing it with your partners. “It was your idea to build the fort, and you did most of the building. I just made it look pretty.”

He’s moved to peppering kisses along your cheekbones, murmuring against the rich brown skin, “Likely thing for you to do—my pretty girl making things look almost as pretty as she does.”

It’s not his best work, but he did call you his pretty girl, so the words make your stomach flutter and heartbeat skip regardless.

Oscar, born to keep Lando humble, cringes as he overhears the line while walking toward the fireplace to prod at the slowly growing flames, “4/10. Your delivery wasn’t too bad, I reckon.”

Lando rolls his eyes, throwing a playful glare in the Aussie’s direction, “Alright, Oscar the Grouch. You’re just jealous ‘cause you had to do all the boring stuff while we got to do the fun stuff like building the fort and picking out the board games we’re gonna play.”

The fire comes alive as Oscar adds another log, the sound of crackling wood filling the space where humming electricity used to be.

“The ‘boring stuff?’” Oscar sets the poker down and brushes any wood debris off his palms. “Do you mean the responsible stuff?”

You and Lando audibly protest against the implication of being irresponsible, Oscar laughing at how your expressions twist in feigned offense. He joins the two of you by the pillow fort and kneels to sit by the coffee table, continuing to laugh to himself as he starts lighting the handful of candles the two of you were able to find around the rental house.

“I fell asleep while you were streaming that new Marvel game, and Lando was doing laps around Silverstone on the sim. The two of you woke me up whispering about horror movie plots with the torch burning directly into my eyes, a scented candle in the other hand, and no clue about where the main breaker is,” Oscar deadpans.

Even though you know Oscar well, his ability to fall asleep in any circumstance, regardless of what’s occurring around him, astounds you. You were live on Twitch, more than halfway close to being diagnosed as clinically insane, as you were loudly ranting about the egos of Duelist mains and the neanderthalic behavior of Vanguards. The sound of you crashing out over getting brutally slaughtered in the backline as your teammates—who, for some reason, refused to turn around and respond to your frantic comms for help—continued to blame losing the game on the lack of healing and support you were offering, should have been loud enough to travel downstairs to be heard by him resting on the couch.

It wasn’t loud enough. Because, surprisingly, Oscar was out like the power, when you and Lando found him snoozing on the sofa. He was resting on his side, covered in a mound of blankets (that have now been consolidated into the fort), his cheek squished against the pillow he tucked under his head. His hand was loosely keeping hold of his phone, his face washed in the blue light emanating from the screen. Lando approached, whisper-screaming Oscar’s name while he attempted to gently rouse the younger man by petting his cheek with his large hand. Oscar squirmed, his brows screwed in discontent, eyes squeezed tightly shut as he tried to run away from being awoken. Lando huffed before poking a bony finger into the Aussie’s chubby cheeks, the enamored look on his face snitched on how fond he is of the younger man. You and Lando quietly chuckled when Oscar dropped his phone to unconsciously bat Lando’s finger away, the phone landed face up next to him. The screen displayed the lost connection image of your livestream—he was watching you play a game he doesn’t know or care for, while being bundled up downstairs on the sofa. He could’ve taken the less than fifteen-second trip upstairs to be in the same room as you, and spectated from outside of the camera’s view.

(You’ve been in love with both Lando and Oscar for what simultaneously feels like forever and not long enough. And, they still manage to do things that make you feel like you’re falling in love with them all over again.)

Lando called out Osc once, flashlight shining on his face, and his eyelids peeled open slightly to squint with a sleepy and ineffective glare at the two of you. You’ve witnessed the man sleep through crying babies on flights, the noise of the garage on qualifying days, and thunderstorms that sound like hurricanes. Yet, he wakes as soon as the sound of his boyfriend cooing his name is paired with the unignorable force of harsh light being oriented directly into his eyes.

“To be fair,” you respond innocently, “From the few times where the power shorted in my stream room, you told me to stay put while you went to flip the switches. Therefore, I don’t think it’s my fault that I don’t know where the breaker is—it’s yours. You’ve spoiled me,” you declare loftily, grinning when Oscar rolls his eyes, the upturned corners of his lips giving away his true feelings about how he’s pampered you.

Lando cackles, knowing damn well that Oscar spoils him too. He crawls into the fort and buries himself in the calculated mess of couch cushions, pillows, and thick quilts you've padded on the floor. He doesn’t have an excuse for himself, nor does he attempt to lie, “Why would I know where the main breaker is? That wasn’t listed in the rental description.”

Oscar stares at the pile of blankets that have become his boyfriend, “I have a strong feeling that you didn’t read the listing, did you?”

“Stop bullying me,” Lando’s voice is muffled behind a quilt he’s pulled over his face. “I’m dyslexic—and frickin’ cold, mate. It’s freezing in here.”

Now that Lando’s brought it to your attention, the temperature has dropped inside. The frigid British winter has been slowly seeping inside since the power went out and took the heating with it. Oscar casts a glance at the fireplace before looking back at the candles to make sure they're a safe distance from anything flammable on the coffee table. He knocks his knee to yours to get your attention and nods his head in Lando’s direction, a wordless direction for you to curl up with him in the cozy hideaway.

“It’s going to be a little bit before the fire grows big enough to warm up the room,” Oscar crawls in after you, the two of you peeling back layers of quilts to reach Lando underneath them.

Lando whines when the chilled air finds him again, his nose scrunch complemented by a fierce glare for unsettling him after he had made himself comfortable within the fort. His sharpness relaxes as he’s cradled between your bodies, tucking his cold feet between Oscar’s legs and slipping his hands underneath your hoodie to warm his fingers. You’re sure the three of you look like a pile of cats, cuddled tightly together to fend off the cold.

Lando sighs happily, “This is mega…but do you know what would make it perfect?”

You shift closer, throwing a leg over Lando’s torso, grinning as Oscar’s hand lowers to massage the bones of your ankle over your fuzzy socks.

Oscar, gifted with foresight, calmly states, “We are not getting naked in the pillow fort.”

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stargirlo · 2 years ago

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CHOKE ME, BITE ME!! satoru gojo.

𝓲. now.... what if gojo has a liking towards you when you playfully bite him.... hmmmmm 🫦🫦🫦

𝓲𝓲. nsfw content │ biting kink, marking, hickies, cowgirl position, praise, nipple pinching, unprotected sex, creampie.

gojo didn't expect this from you honestly. showing off your affection just by giving him a playful bite of his finger, the shell of his ear, or the crook of his neck. but he isn't complaining.

he likes it, very much. whenever he wakes up in the morning, instead of his own alarm ringing at the ass crack of dawn, you're here, on top of him. your teeth gently sinking down on his porcelain skin, before sucking it with ease. it didn't hurt, it wasn't painfull, but it tickled.

if you were feeling extra playfull then you would purposefully bite down a little harder, taking a chomp out of his skin as if he was a some sort of treat. a strained little, "ow!" being heard from him as his muscular arms snake around your waist.

whenever he goes to work, he isn't ashamed to show off the bites and hickies to nanami or anyone else. some people might look at him with a concerning expression because he looks like a vampire just sucked the living soul out of him. but he doesn't care, it's just a silent way to show other women that he's taken, that he was already marked as someone's property.

"fuck- yeah, that's a good girl.." a grunt bubbles in satoru's throat, throwing his head back in utter pleasure as your hips continously bounced and rolled against his in a fervor movement. the palm of your hands glued to his toned chest as stifled moans and whimpers elicit through gritted teeth.

"c'mon baby, bite me yeah?" he breathlessly spoke, his parted lips curling up to a cheeky smirk while his words nudged you to the core, you couldn't help yourself and your self control was oh so close to slipping away from you. your hands curled up into tight fists, chewing down your lower lip until it swells up into a red-ish color. satoru rasped out a chuckle seeing your expression and how you were holding back, his fingers fondling with the fat of your hips and ass.

"you shy? don't act so coy baby, i know you wanna..." he beckoned you, tempting you to the fullest.

fuck it.

leaning your upper body down, one of your hands cupping at one of his pecs as the pad of your pointer and thumb gently pinches at his nipple. your mouth already occupied by leaving mutliple bite marks all over his neck, as if you were a blood thirsty vampire. satoru groaned, beads of sweat forming and trickling down the temple of his forehead. a familiar knot slowly starts to form on his lower abdomen, a sign that he's getting close to his high.

your mouth continued on peppering his neck with small, purple bruises, painting his skin beautifully once you've marked him as your own.

your moans grew high pitched and satoru noticed it, "pretty girl 's gonna cum? don't hold back baby, yeah.. thaaat's it.." satoru grunts, bucking his hips upwards to gain more friction to this mind shattering orgasm. the head of his cock slammed towards your sweet spot, making you squeal before thick ropes of his seed fills you up to the brim, painting your spongy walls white. your moans mingled with his, satoru's expression scrunching up as his calves tightened, his grip on you unyielding.

as everything starts to cool down, basking in the afterglow, you softly peppered his neck and cheek with kisses, hips occasionally grinding against him again and again. you want more, you need more.

"you're such a whore." he babbled out, a calloused hand being firmly pressed at your lower back. " 'm not a whore," you mutter out, gently biting down on his collarbone next. satoru snickers, taking a firm grasp of your body before he suddenly flipped you over, now your back pressed against the stiff mattress as he was on top of you.

"one more round can't hurt, yeah?" he spoke in a low tone, his hot breath fanning over your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.

"let me now be the one that bites you next..."

#( xoxo ) ✶ rosalina !#jjk x reader #jjk smut #gojo headcanons #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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towasdandelion · 4 months ago

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Hotarubi, Obscuary and Jabberwock ghouls when you text them "I want to marry you someday"

Haku loves daydreaming about you two getting married, seeing you in a white dress... In fact he even dreamt about it. He's not ashamed to admit it, he's not feeling embarrassed. As for the other part of his dream I'm leaving the interpretation up to you hehe

Subaru is a bit taken aback, surprised even. It's not like he didn't think about it, it's just that he's a bit insecure. Sometimes he thinks maybe he does deserve you. Maybe he's not worthy of you? It will take a bit of reassurance to make him believe you're truly happy with him.

Zenji really needs a moment because poor guy teared up... He's just so happy he can't contain it. He also gets a huge burst of inspiration and as soon as you two stop texting he sits down and writes and writes until he can't anymore.

Isn't Edward right? He lives so long already... Once he finds a lover he's not letting go, so waiting seems useless to him. He's just a poor old vampire in need of love, right? It doesn't matter to him if his charms played a part in courting you as long as you really love him. And if you allow him he can definitely make it last, if you know what I mean.

You made Rui so happy! Happy and a bit.. eager. But it can't be helped when he loves you so much! He just wants you all to himself already, right this moment. Will come to see you just to cling to your side for the rest of the day like a cute puppy. And he won't stop whispering sweet nothings your ear.

Of course Lyca knows how it works! Once he got into a relationship with you he started researching all about it, following up to marriage. Since it works in his world too more or less, he was able to understand it easily. He's very happy you trust him enough to spend the rest of your life with him.

Ren, Ren, Ren, when will he learn? It's not like he doesn't want it, like he said. It's just that... He never dared to dream about it yet. He's aware of the way he is so he can get a bit insecure but of course he won't let it show. If you want him to say that he wants you too, you'll just have to bother him until he gives in! Pretty easy right?

Haru can't wait until that day comes. He does think about it sometimes, especially when he catches his moments of rest. He also rambles to peekaboo a lot, making the little creature squeal and jump in excitement. Aren't they just the cutest?

Towa really wants it! And he wants it now! He doesn't understand the concept of waiting. If you two love each other, why wait? You might have to gently calm him down and explain things to him. It's not guaranteed he will understand, but he will do his best to do so!

#tokyo debunker #haku kusanagi #subaru kagami #zenji kotodama #edwart hart #rui mizuki #lyca colt #towa otonashi #ren shiranami #haru sagara

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joongieology · 7 months ago

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2U | Jeong Yunho

Pairing: Jeong Yunho X Reader

Genre: Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Angst

Word Count: 2.4k

Tags/Warnings: University AU(?), cussing, mention of violence, possessive!Yunho, obsessive tendencies (please let me know if I missed something!)

Sypnosis: You're sure that your best friend has always been kind and friendly with everyone, so when you found out otherwise, you did not want to believe it, or maybe you're in denial.

Song Recommendation: 2U by Justin Bieber

Note: I've been working on this for a while. The idea behind this story is so good but I'm not sure if I delivered it properly >_< Anyways, happy reading!!

Disclaimer: The following content is a work of fiction and does NOT represent the written member in any way.

You've known Yunho since, like, forever. You can't even remember how you first met him, just that you've known him since you were in grade school. Wherever you are, he'd be there too. You two were inseparable. So when you got accepted to the university you've always dreamt of attending, and he didn't, he was beyond devastated.

You were sitting side by side on the couch of your apartment when you checked the results. You squealed in happiness seeing that you got accepted. You immediately looked over Yunho with a big smile, but it slowly disappeared when you saw his expression. He was just sitting there silently, disappointment evident in his eyes, with a hint of...anger? But his expression changed right away when he heard your voice.

"Yuyu?" You called out to him slowly, gently tapping him on the shoulder. He always loves it when you call him by the nickname you made for him; it sounds almost angelic when it comes from your lips. It's as if he is an angel himself, or so you thought. He looked over to you and gave you a tight smile.

"I didn't get in. I got waitlisted." He almost couldn't get the words out; it felt like something was blocking his throat. Just thinking about you being away from him and being surrounded by other people, especially men, made him want to pull his hair out.

You hugged him from the side, slowly caressing his arm, trying to comfort him.

"That's alright; we can still meet from time to time. Every day, or maybe five times a week, or on the weekends, if we're not too busy..." You tried to sound convincing, but even you were sad with the thought of being away from Yunho. You were always together that you forgot the feeling of being alone, so the idea of not having him by your side in a new school, a new environment, tormented you.

The university was far from where you currently live, so it would be quite hard to see each other much, considering you'll also have to stay at the dorm once college starts. Unless he finds another school in the same city the university is at.

You pulled away from the hug, thinking about other ways to comfort him.

"Would you like to stay over...?"

Yunho staying over is nothing new. He always sleeps over when it gets too late while you're having a movie marathon, completely forgetting about the time. He almost always sleeps on the couch, except that one time.

You were at the kitchen, getting some water because you were parched from bingeing your current favourite TV show, when someone knocked at the door. You looked at the clock; it's currently two in the morning. Who could be here at this hour? You peeked through the peephole to find no one. Okay, now, what the fu— Your line of thoughts was interrupted when you heard another pair of knocks. "Y/N." Someone from the other side of the door whispered, so low you almost didn't hear it. Yunho. You opened the door to find a nearly zombie-like looking Yunho. He was crouching down, back towards the door. He looked up at you from his position and grinned. "Hi." He said with a smile, standing, then hugging you, practically putting all his weight on you. He reeks of alcohol. "Yuyu, can you stand properly? You're so big, and you're putting all your weight on me!" You whisper-shouted, not wanting to wake your neighbours. He giggled like a kid while you're still struggling trying to hold him up. He attempted to stand properly and started walking to your bedroom, but he ended up walking in zigzag. When he finally got to your room, he removed his shoes, shirt, and pants, leaving only his boxers on, then lay down on your bed. Even when drunk, he still remembered how you dislike getting on the bed with outside clothes on. You felt your cheeks flush. You shut your eyes and turned around. Inhale, exhale. This would've been nothing to you if your friendship was purely platonic, which it was until it wasn't. You honestly don't know when, but one day, you just started to look at Yunho...differently. You're suddenly aware of every little thing he did for you that you weren't aware of when you only saw him as your best friend. Like remembering the things you like, you don't like, and doing things for you—for your convenience. But of course, you wouldn't dare confess your feelings to him, fearing that it might ruin your lifelong friendship. You faced the bed, eyes still shut but peeking a little, and you walked towards Yunho and covered him with your blanket. You stared at him peacefully sleeping on your bed, in your apartment, with nothing but a pair of boxer shorts on. He looked like a prince. You went over to the other side of the bed, lifting the blanket to get under it, when your eyes caught something purple on the side of his waist. It was a bruise. What did he do? Where was he? Why does he have a bruise like this? You took note of asking him tomorrow about this and also putting a cold compress on it, then you went to bed.

After that night, you asked him about the bruise, but he just shrugged it off and told you that he just bumped into something and not to worry too much about it. You did not press further because he looked like he didn't want to talk about it at all.

"Would that be alright...?" He answered you with a question.

"Yeah, I mean, you often sleep over anyway; it's no big deal."

He showed you a smile and kissed you on the forehead, like he always does.

-~-

It was officially the first day of college, and you stood in front of the gate, mentally preparing yourself for the new environment you'll be facing. No Yunho, no nothing, just you and the infinity necklace he had given you before you moved over to the dorm—and your things of course.

While walking, you looked around, scanning the buildings, trying to look for the building name written at the schedule given to you, which was saved to your phone.

You bumped into someone looking as confused as you.

"Are you a freshman, too?" You build up the courage and start the conversation. If you want to make friends, better make one now.

"Yeah." she answered, looking awkward.

You glanced at her phone and saw the exact same schedule as yours.

"Oh! We're classmates!" Excitement was evident in your tone. At least you'll have a friend among your classmates, or so you hope.

You looked for your building together, almost getting a headache from going around the campus. When you finally found the building, you immediately went to your room, and class started.

Lunch came, and you went to the cafeteria with your newfound friend. You were peacefully munching on your lunch, thinking about what Yunho would be doing right now—when someone placed their lunch beside yours. You smelt his perfume and instantly knew.

"Hi." He was smiling yet again.

"You—why—what are you doing here??" You don't know what to ask first. You were just genuinely happy he was here. Even when other students that were sitting near your table started to scatter away while murmuring something among themselves, you still didn't care.

You hugged Yunho around his neck.

"I go here now."

"What—how??"

"Long story. Don't worry about it. What's important is I'm here now, right?" He uncapped a drink—your favourite drink—and placed it in your hands.

You nodded, sipping on the drink. You glanced over at your friend sitting beside you, her face pale with shock written all over it, while staring at Yunho.

"What's wrong?" You asked, concerned.

"N-nothing." She gave you a tight smile and went back to eating.

Odd. You gazed at Yunho, and he just gave you a shrug with that infamous smile of his, urging you to finish eating.

The next few days went by. You were thrilled to have Yunho at the same school. You always hung out together, sometimes bringing your friend along with you. Yunho didn't seem to mind, saying, 'As long as you're happy.'.

College was actually tolerable, better than you imagined. Your friend invited you to go to a party on Friday night, insisting you bring Yunho too.

You talked about this with Yunho. At first he was reluctant, claiming your friend is not trustworthy and you shouldn't be hanging out with her too much, but eventually, he agreed.

The place of the party was not too far away from the university. It was a big house with a pool in the backyard and a beautiful garden at the front. It was packed, some people dancing, some just hanging out drinking beer or heavy liquor, some kissing, and some smoking...weed?

Is this a fucking frat party?!

Well, might as well have fun; besides, Yunho is here with you anyway, so nothing will happen... right?

Your friend dragged you and Yunho to the kitchen and handed each of you a beer she got from the cooler.

You drink occasionally, most of the time with Yunho, but you've never really been a heavy drinker. Him, on the other hand, has a high tolerance; that's why you were surprised when he came to you drunk that night.

You were getting pretty dizzy when Yunho snatched the can of beer you were holding. It was your third, halfway done. You leaned onto his chest, and a whiff of his perfume reached your senses, causing you to giggle.

"Gosh, you smell sooo good~~" You were still giggling, looking up at him, eyes half-lidded. He took a glance at your plump lips and gulped.

Oh, you have no idea what you do to him.

He wished he could kiss you right there and then, make you feel good like you've never felt before, claim you as his, and submit himself to you, but he held back, not wanting to scare you away, not knowing you felt the same way he did.

You stared at each other, silently relaying your love for one another, hoping the other would just snap and let go.

One...

Two...

Three...

And you pulled away, excusing yourself to the bathroom. You locked the door and stared at your reflection.

Y/N, just tell him already!!

You wanted to pull your hair out of frustration, but you tried to calm down.

What if he doesn't feel the same way? What if he likes someone else and just sees me as his friend? Never mind.

You composed yourself before going out and heading back to the kitchen. You stopped in your tracks when you heard your friend and Yunho's voice.

"What the fuck is so special about her that you'd do all that for her?" You heard your friend's voice.

"She's everything I want; she's everything to me, something you'll never be." Yunho's tone was so low, it almost scared you.

You've never been scared of Yunho once in your life; he has always been so nice and gentle towards you. He never did something that would scare you in any way, so you assumed he was like that with everyone else.

"I wonder what her reaction would be if she finds out what you're doing behind her back." She mocked Yunho.

"I fucking dare you. I won't even look your way if not for her. She considered you her "friend" that's why I've tried to put up with you, but this fucking stops now. Stop throwing yourself at me and don't show yourself in front of us ever again, or"—you heard him step forward—"I'll fucking make you."

She actually tried to throw herself at him?

Bitch.

You heard footsteps, and then there he is, looking at you with a shocked expression, eyes as round as they can be, mouth slightly agape. Then you closed the distance between you and...

You kissed him.

You're kissing him.

You're kissing Jeong Yunho.

Fucking finally.

You had to tiptoe to reach his lips. When he recovered from the shock, he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to his chest, and kissed you deeper, more passionately. He's been waiting all his life for this, and he wasn't about to let the opportunity pass.

When you ran out of air, you pulled away from him slightly.

"I have something to tell you." He spoke first, gulping, thinking about what your reaction would be. This is it.

He led you to the poolside and sat there, folding his pants so as not to get them wet, then dipped his feet in the pool. He removed his denim jacket and placed it beside him, patting it, signalling you to sit on it. You obeyed, dipping your feet as well, the cold hitting you immediately.

Then he confessed. Confessed everything he's been doing since he met you. Like pushing away other kids so you'll only play with him. Threatening other guys to never pursue you or even look your way. Fighting with other guys when they said something bad or sexual about you. And the most recent thing is having to beat up someone just so he'll get in the same university as you.

You tried to process everything, trying to take in the new information. You honestly don't know what to feel, a surge of emotions hitting you all at the same time. You never knew he was so possessive of you; well, of course you knew that he wanted all your attention on him, but not to that extent.

Were you so naive to not notice all that? How he was so cold towards everyone and only kind to you? How much he dislikes it when someone tries to get your attention? All the subtle glances and hand gestures he does behind your back, trying to warn others to not disturb you? Were you really? You never noticed all that? Or maybe you did; you just never cared because it benefitted you. You never cared as long as he's with you. You never cared as long as you always got your way. You ignored everything for the sake of you and your relationship with each other. And maybe, just maybe, you are just as crazy as him.

Feedbacks are highly appreciated!!

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stargirlygirl · 1 month ago

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no, you can't buy my ranch

rancher!sylus x spoiled!city girl!reader

⭑.ᐟ part six: betrayal and gambling

summary: sylus's lawyer shoes up at your property and informs you it's been seized under the common law.

contains: angst, swearing, mentions of gambling, you're a daddy's girl btw, blood/knife metaphor (in case you're a bit squeamish, it's not even graphic in my opinion but just in case), 3.7k words

BEFORE we officially begin, I forgot to attach these messages at the end of part five. SO pretend that you read them last chapter, okay?

It’s been about a month since you moved to this tiny town, and you have to admit, you’re starting to like it.

Yes, the town gossip is incessant, the supermarket is way too small and closes way too early, and you have only one friend (if you could call him that). But you’re beginning to enjoy waking up with green plains right out your window. The country air is fresh and invigorating, and the sun is bright. Well, the sun is bright everywhere. But here, its golden hues mould into the landscape.

You’ve come to revel in the early quiet of the morn. And working from home is so nice. You can pee whenever you want, wear whatever you want (the last time you put on a bra was when you went grocery shopping a few days ago), and you can be as loud as you want. There’s no way Mr Qin, who you’ve learnt owns the entire street next to your own empty one, could hear you scream across those acres.

Why would you be screaming, you might ask? Well, screaming is a wonderful form of emotional release. Any time you feel frustrated at your shit wifi, you can scream and shout at it and then carry on. Like road rage, you have the space to aurally express yourself before getting it together to solve the problem.

Another bonus of living in the countryside, alluded to previously, is your neighbour. You’ve been seeing each other once or twice a week and texting when something comes up. Heat flares in your cheeks whenever your phone dings, your stuttering heart hopeful it’s a message from him. When it is, you’re rejoicing and reading his message, giddy. When it isn’t, you berate yourself for becoming all excited.

You shouldn’t feel like this about the man who’s trying to purchase your father’s property. However, you can’t help but send him the flirtiest texts that make you throw your phone and squeal at your audacity. Better yet, Sylus always matches your texts with his signature condescension.

After all of this time, you realise how severely you’ve fallen victim to his haughty charm.

You’re currently taking a break from work. Your next Zoom meeting is at 2pm, so you’ve got about an hour to kill. You’ve set yourself up on the couch with a cup of tea and a good book. It’s one of the books Sylus bought for you; his recommendation, of course. You didn’t think the ranch overlord would have a taste for the classics. Oh, how wrong that assumption was.

Flicking the page of The Bacchae, a firm knock resounds at your front door. Huffing, you place your bookmark and leave the tragedy on the coffee table. While walking to the door, you allow your mind to wander. What if it’s Sylus? But wouldn’t Sy text you first? And that knock didn’t sound like his.

Your mood dampened, you unlock the door and pull it open with all of your strength. Resting against it, you gaze at the man in a suit before you with surprise.

“You… You’re that real estate agent,” you reminisce. The man shakes his head.

In monotone, he states, “I am Mr Qin’s lawyer, and I am here to inform you, Miss L/n, that your property has been seized under the common law.” You stare at him for a moment, processing his words. Sylus’s lawyer? Property seized?

“What? You-you said you were a real estate agent?” You ask confused.

Clearing his throat, the lawyer repeats, “A slip of the tongue, I can assure you. Moving on, your father no longer has legal ownership of this property, Miss L/n. As such, you are required to move out within 14 days of this notice.”

“You…” Can’t do that, is what you want to say. But there’s a lump in your throat, preventing any additional words from journeying out of your lips. Your eyes snap to the sudden sound coming down the driveway. Tires scattering the dirt and buzzing engine; a black pick-up truck comes into view.

“Sylus,” you whisper and pray that his lawyer—well, his self-proclaimed lawyer—didn’t hear you.

Stepping past the threshold, the heavy front door slams shut behind you. You step anxiously past the man in a suit, watching as Sylus carelessly pulls over. Shutting the engine off, he jogs up to your porch. His button-up has been traded for a black tank, and jeans for a pair of gym shorts. Sweat drips down his muscles, a sight that would make you feral when ovulating. He’s slightly out of breath as he conquers the few porch steps, like he’s just been boxing or something.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner, sweetie,” Sylus murmurs, coming to stand in front of you.

Staring up at him, you sigh in relief, “Thank God you’re here, Sy. This man—” Twisting back, you gesture to the lawyer— “was saying that-that I have to move out.” The rancher shoots his lawyer a dangerous glare. He was supposed to arrive first and gently break the news to you. Not the other way around.

“Sy,” you start. Reaching out, you grab his clammy hand and pull it toward you.

“What’s going on?” You continue, anxiety lacing your voice. It’s not the gorgeous man in front of you, in his slutty shorts, that’s making your heart race. No, it’s that he hasn’t denied the other man’s claim.

“Is he your lawyer?” You press on. Sylus’s lips purse slightly, the vein in his jaw fluttering with the tension there.

He finally sighs— the sound devoid of his usual charisma, “Yes. Albert, here is my lawyer.” You shake your head in disbelief. Because if Albert is truly Sylus’s lawyer, then what of Albert’s other declarations?

The rancher mumbles remorsefully, “Wasn’t supposed to happen like this, kitten.”

“What? What wasn’t supposed to happen like this?” You spit out, your anger swelling and something else, too. A kind of sadness stinging at the edges. Sylus squeezes your hand before directing his attention to his lawyer.

“You were supposed to wait for my arrival,” he says sternly.

The lawyer counters, “You were taking your sweet time, Mr Qin. I figured you’d be here any minute, and look at that, you are.” You can almost hear Sylus’s teeth grinding with how hard he’s clenching his jaw.

He scoffs, “Right. And how much did you divulge in my absence?”

Albert shrugs, “The necessities.”

Before Sylus can bite his lawyer’s head off, you interrupt with, “He said that my dad no longer owns this property, and that I have to move out.” You tug on Sylus’s hand, drawing his narrowed eyes back to you.

Emotion thickens your voice as you guess, “I don’t understand. Did you buy my ranch without telling me?”

Albert answers before Sylus can, “By adverse possession, Mr Qin has been granted full legal ownership of your father’s property, Miss L/n.”

“Adverse possession?” You repeat, the phrase, foreign, on your tongue.

“Precisely. Mr Qin has been exclusively maintaining this property for the past ten years. Through filing a lawsuit under the state’s adverse possession law, Mr Qin has proved his continuous and notorious claim to the property, and as such, has been granted legal ownership,” the lawyer explains. Your heart drops to your stomach as you glance between the two men. You don’t know who to be more furious at. Actually, you do.

“What the fuck?!” You wiggle your hand out of Sylus’s tightening grip.

Glaring up at him, you say heatedly, “That’s not true! My father… There have been tenants living here within the past two years. You can’t claim exclusive ownership of my fucking ranch!”

“Actually, Miss L/n, this property has been unoccupied since its purchase twelve years ago,” Albert asserts.

“Bullshit,” you claim.

He goes on with, “Adverse possession is also referred to as Squatter’s rights, if that helps clear up your confusion.” Oh, that makes it so much worse.

“Squatter’s rights?! Squat—what squatter’s rights? This man is fucking loaded! You-you mean to tell me he’s been squatting in my property, you fucking crazy bast—”

“Sweetie,” Sylus cuts you off. The vibrancy in his eyes is gone, dulled by guilt.

Glancing at Albert, he orders dismissively, “We’ll speak about this later. You can leave now.” With a curt nod, the lawyer disappears down the steps and hops into a small white car you didn’t even notice was pulled over nearby. All is quiet between you and Sylus as the other man drives away. Only the chirping birds, oblivious to the daunting news you’ve just received, dare to barge in on your brooding.

You break the almost silence with, “I can’t believe this! You—”

“Kitten—”

“NO! Don’t-don’t ‘kitten’ me, Sylus! You fucked me over!” You shout, all of the desire and excitement you had been feeling for him, fleeting. All that’s left right now is bitterness gnawing at your insides, eating you up like you drank acid. You release this strangled sound, somewhere between a derisive chuckle and a sob. You feel the wetness rolling down your cheeks; tears.

The rancher who had been your sole friend (and love interest) gazes at you, pained.

He says abashedly, “You weren’t supposed to know.” You choke on your tears, your arms instinctively wrapping around yourself as you step back. Seeing your sudden distance drives a knife into Sylus’s chest. Blood spews from the wound as he reaches for you, but you shake your head and take another step back.

“No,” you mumble, your eyes downcast.

The rancher swallows his agony as he explains, “The court was supposed to make a decision next month. I was hoping in that time, we would have grown closer.”

“Closer?!” You snap furiously. “Closer,” you repeat, the word now subdued and overrun by barely contained pain. “And then what? You-you would j-just betray me. Like you-you’ve done n-now,” you sob. Betrayal. That’s what you’re feeling. A mere hour ago, you were a bundle of joy. Content, safe, and looking forward to the future. But now, all of that has been clawed out of your hands and burned to ashes. Crisp is the sorrow in your tummy. That sharpness of a concealed dagger plunged deep inside.

“It would have made the transition easier,” he mutters.

“For whom, Sylus?!” You cry out. You hate it when he sees you like this, all upset and crying. Why are you always crying when you’re with him? Is love like supposed to hurt this much?

He sighs, “For both of us…” Kitten. “You would be willing to sell. I’d ask you to move in with me.”

“You’re not my boyfriend!” You wail. Such a statement was meant to hurt him, but it only reinforces the reality you wish were a fantasy.

“I could be,” Sylus murmurs. Not the most appropriate time to shoot his shot, but the rancher fears he might not have another chance.

“I can protect you, darling. Give you everything you could ever want. You’d have a comfortable life. All you have to do is say yes.” You can’t believe what he’s saying right now. Asking you out on your front porch, after seizing ownership of your property. His words cause you to cry harder, your face scrunched up all ugly as you feel the pain cutting straight through your heart.

Sylus steps forward and reaches for you once more, almost pleading, “Let me take care of you.” His deep voice, typically cocky, is now overwhelmed by desperation. That yearning breathlessness. You would have folded right then and there for him in different circumstances. Right now, you can’t.

Shaking your head, you gaze up at him with blurry vision. Your sadness transforms the handsome rancher into a tall blob of colour. Oh, how you crave to be in his arms. To retreat into his comfort. Defined arms embracing you tightly, and his broad chest, providing the perfect pillow to rest your weary head on.

It’s thoughts like these that drive you to dart to your front door and scamper inside. It thuds shut, and you immediately secure the locks. You dash to your living room and collapse on the couch, the cushions becoming your teddy bear. But they aren’t as hot or soothing as the silver-haired man outside.

Sylus stands there, his hand still outstretched, looking at the place where you were a minute ago. It dawns upon him how royally he’s just fucked up. He’s been working for ten years to own this property. But in one month, all of those ambitions have been worn down to nothing.

You’re the reason he started reconsidering his lawsuit. Of course, he couldn’t just withdraw his case. But now that he’s won, Sylus isn’t sure if the cost was worth the reward.

In his arrogance, he thought he could have both you and your land. And in his spiralling mind, he still thinks he can.

…˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚…

Time elapses as you cry on the sofa. It’s heart-wrenching and raw, with you mumbling to yourself every minute, trying to make sense of what just occurred. The sun is still high in the sky, harshly glaring down upon the shrubland, when you slither off the couch and head to the window. Pulling back the lacy curtains, you peek at your front porch. Empty, no Sylus in sight. Gazing at the dirt trail, you see no black pick-up truck resting on the side.

He’s gone.

You choke on your sobs while plopping back down on the couch. Snatching your phone, you take the only reasonable course of action and dial your father’s number. It rings once… twice.. a third—

“Hey, sweetheart. I’m driving at the moment. What is it?” His voice is like a popsicle on a hot summer’s day.

You sniffle, “Daddy.” The line is quiet for a moment as you pluck a couple of tissues and pat your eyes.

“What happened, sugar plum?” He asks, an urgency underscoring his tone.

Dropping your hand in your lap, you explain, “This-this man came t-to my house an-and he said t-that it did-didn’t belong t-to you anymore.”

“Oh, honey,” your father sighs. In the background, you can hear the indicator flicking.

“Dad, what-what’s gonna happen? Why-why did Sylus take y-your house?” Your small voice cracks on the silver-haired man’s name. He’s the last person you want to think about right now. But funnily enough, he’s the only one on your mind. You hear the chinking of keys as your father throws them on the dash. You assume he’s pulled over.

He exhales tiredly, “Look, love bug, let’s not do this over the phone, okay? I’m on the way to you right now. And when I get there, I’ll explain everything.” A loud cry rises in your throat and rips through; automatically, your hand flies to your mouth to cover it.

“Everything’s gonna be okay, I promise, pumpkin pie,” your father reassures you.

You speak through your fresh wave of tears, “His-his lawyer s-said the house was-was n-never occupied. S’that true?” You’re on the edge of the couch cushion, expecting an answer from your father.

But as the static-silence continues, you murmur, “So it’s true.”

“As I said, my sweetest dew drop, I’ll explain when I get there, alright? I should reach by nightfall,” your father finally responds. You want to tell him that he better explain, that he owes it to you, but all you manage is a measly “M’kay” before saying your ‘I love you’s and hanging up.

Checking the time, you predict you’ve got another two to three hours before your father arrives. In that time, you sob into your couch once more, like a distraught Disney princess who’s not allowed to see the prince ever again.

For a moment, you picture it. Prince Sylus kept away from you by some opposing force in your story. But the image makes you weep harder. Sylus is no prince in your books. If anything, he’d be the dragon guarding your tower.

Ruthless and selfish.

You question whether those moments you two spent together, the kiss you shared by the lake, were genuine. Or was he just trying to get close to you so he could soften the blow? On the contrary, getting close to you has made this sudden change all the more devastating.

You’re still curled up in a ball on your tear-stained sofa when the locks turn and the front door is pushed open. Moments later, your father strolls into the living room with an overnight bag in hand. Like he knew. Like he planned this visit.

Dropping it on a nearby armchair, your dad comes over to you with his arms spread wide.

“Oh, sweetie pie,” he says lovingly before embracing you in a warm hug. And just when you thought you were finished crying, more tears spill over your waterline.

He pats your back and coos softly, “It’s alright, darling. We’re gonna figure this out, okay?” You wail in his arms like a child who just dropped their favourite plushie in the toilet. Ugly and utterly distraught, your father holds you. He has to, because he’s the one responsible for your grief.

Sitting back, you choke out, “Daddy, what-what happened?” He averts his eyes for a moment, feigning interest in the book you were reading earlier as he gathers his thoughts.

At last, he admits, “It’s complicated, poo bear—”

“Please, just tell me!” You sob, smearing your snotty nose on your forearm for the nth time today.

His shoulders slump as he confesses, “I bought this house twelve years ago using my savings, yeah? And I intended to put it up for rent, but I got busy, you were having a hard time at school, and things, you know, were getting a bit rough between your mom and me—”

“Hurry up, Dad,” you interject while throwing your tissue down beside you.

He sighs, “I picked up an old habit, okay? And it was going really well for a while. But then things dropped off. The stock market was going down, too. I was losin’ a lot of money, so I pulled out. I was gonna put the house up for rent when I found out the man next door had been trespassing. And then he filed a lawsuit, and well, the rest is history.” You shake your head, still confused about one detail.

“What habit, Daddy?” You ask nervously. Again, he avoids your sharp gaze.

“What habit?!” You cry out. Slowly, your father looks at you, his eyes glassier than before.

“Gambling,” he mutters. You feel like a hole has been punched through your chest. Gambling. An addiction. One that ruins lives, like your father’s. But it doesn’t stop there. Like a monster, it thrashes when attempting to be tamed, lashing out at anyone, even those closest to the person most affected.

“Is that where you were every Friday night? At the Casino?” You choke out, your anger flaring for the second time today.

“Honey—”

“Is that where my college tuition came from? Your little ol’ habit?!” You don’t want to do this. You’ve pushed someone very important away from you today, and you don’t want to do the same to your father. You should be seeking solidarity right now, but you’re struggling to. You can’t suppress the indignation bubbling to the surface.

Your father murmurs, “Yes, okay? Yes, I was playing the pokies every Friday night. I was on a winning streak, baby. And for the first time, it lasted.”

“Until it didn’t?” You clarify, the words dripping with venom as you spit them out. He nods.

“Does Mom know?” He shakes his head, panic flickering across his lived-in features.

Your dad asks, “You’re not gonna tell her, are you?”

You scoff tearfully, “Why should I? S’not my burden to bear.” That seems to ease the mounting tension in his body, if only superficially.

“Are you still—”

“No. I had to stop, angel. I’ve been clean for the past year or so,” he insists. You nod, rubbing your red nose as more snot threatens to spill out.

Your father apologises, “And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, peanut. I know I should have. N’ I should have told your mother, too, but… Look, it’s gonna be alright, okay? You can move back in with us until you get back on your feet, yeah?”

“Mhmm,” you agree, completely exhausted. The day’s emotional weight is catching up to you, and your body feels heavy. The pieces fall into line.

“S’that how you got here so fast? Knew I’d be kicked out,” you murmur. Your father sighs while nodding.

“B-but, then why’d you make me move in if the property was gonna-gonna go to…” You trail off, unable to say his name.

Your father rubs the back of his neck as he explains, “I thought it might deter him or affect the lawsuit, but it did neither.” So that’s it. You were a rat in an experiment. A test subject for a failed hypothesis.

“I’m sorry, my little bean,” your dad apologises once more. You hum in acknowledgement, too choked up to answer with words.

After a beat of silence, your father suggests, “Why don’t you go shower or take a nap? I’ll make us dinner.” Nodding, you trudge off to the bathroom.

After showering, you gaze at yourself in the mirror. Staring back at you is you, but five times puffier. You look like you’ve had an allergic reaction with how swollen your eyes and lips are.

When you’re finally ready— skin moisturised and new jammies on— you head downstairs. As soon as you enter the kitchen, the smell of your dad’s signature dish hits your nostrils.

You help him set the table, and for the first time in a long time, you two share a meal. It’s quiet between you, tonight’s admissions plunging the household into clinking plates and hushed manners.

And when you lie down in bed, all cosy with your actual teddy bear, your nose is still blocked up and your cheeks feel hot. You toss and turn, unable to will away those soul-stealing eyes. How sad and dim they looked.

He haunts you, like he did after you first met. Somewhere, between the gloomy stars and broken AC, you manage to drift off into a dreamless slumber.

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star girl's final words: BIGGEST THANK YOU to @tragicvictoriantears for giving me the idea of adverse possession!!!!! this story wouldn't be what it is without you, nat! also... did we like? how're we feeling? i really liked this one ngl. my fav so far is part two, but i like the angst of this part.

APOLOGIES IN ADVANCE if part seven doesn't come out within the next week because i haven't started it yet and i have assignments due😃

taglist - @stxrrielle, @peachystea, @harbingers-lullaby, @grlyeetswrld, @multisstuff, @heartyluv, @cuntphoric-main, @sealoftime, @beesin03, @tragicvictoriantears, @bananasquash, @sylusgworl

#★’s works #love and deepspace #sylus angst #sylus x reader #cowboy sylus #lads sylus #sylus qin x reader #lnds sylus #qin che x reader

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