#this is NASTY and I’m PROUD

[hatsue-exe]

Sanji melts when you give him head.

His fingers are gripping on your hair so tightly, he’s panting and moaning against his other hand, which is fisted against his lips. He can’t risk the rest of the crew listening to him in such a weak state.

He bucks his lips softly into your mouth. He knows that although he’s not very thick, he’s still long and overall a lot to take in, so he tries to be patient, using all his might not to fuck your face and come in under two minutes.

He also adores it when you take your time and spice things up. He had gotten the casual blowjob before, but it was mostly quick one night stands in some shady corner of the Baratie, where oral was just a cheap and easy way to lubricate and not actually a sensual affair, so it always gets his knees weak if you worship him for a little while, teasing and appreciating him through your touch.

He falls back on his elbows, praising you when you’re kneeling between his spread legs, your hands caress his waist and grip him as you go down on his length. You can never look away from him, blinking the tears from your eyes to see his head thrown back in pure pleasure.

During your time apart, Sanji also grows much more comfortable with his own body and desires. Once you reunite, safe in the privacy of your bedroom, he doesn’t hesitate to whisper everything he wants to do with you — and everything he wants you to do to him. That’s how you find yourself between his legs while his hips are supported by soft pillows, his cock deep down your throat and your fingers gently moving inside of him.

His dirty talk goes through the roof, curse words falling from his lips as he talks you through pleasuring him.

“Fuck, baby, that’s it. I can take a bit more, come on, it’s okay… Oh fuck fuck fuck, right there, right there… No, don’t stop sucking baby, come on… You’re so smart, you can do two things at once.”

His sounds are angelic. Breathy moans and soft whimpers, begging and commanding all at the same time.

“Take it deeper... I said deeper…” His hand grips at the roots of your hair, pushing down and making his tip press at the back of your throat, and he loses his composure in a second, eyes rolling back. “Ah! Please, baby, please… Oh that’s a fucking good… Ugh…”

Once he’s close, he always lets you know. Sometimes it’s a verbal warning, but most of the times it’s just gentle tapping against your cheek combined with the trembling of his legs. He lets you choose if you want to swallow it, if you want to jerk him so he paints your face in his cum, and if you do let him come in your mouth but you don’t want to swallow it, he simply extends his bare hand for you to spit on.

And, of course, Sanji always returns the favour.

[early-twentysomething]

I just came back from watching A Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes; and Yes, Coryo is actually the fucking worst, and yes, him and Lucy are toxic and fundamentally incompatible due to their idealogical differences. But, AND FOLLOW ME HERE what if I wrote an arranged marriage AU?

THIS IS A RLY ROUGH OUTLINE BECAUSE THIS ALL JUST CAME TO ME TODAY, BUT WALK WITH ME:

Newly graduated from University, with the prestige of Doctor Gaul’s apprenticeship under his belt, Coriolanus Snow has been handpicked by Plinth to ascend to the Presidency of Panem. However, because he spent the entirely of his young adulthood garnering power through fear, he is immensely unpopular in the Capitol.

So, in order to make his new appointment more secure, his advisors have suggested that Coriolanus marries by the end of the year, before the next reaping.

Guess whose suddenly reappeared out of the blue and become a bit of a Capitol Darling - Lucy Gray Baird, back from the dead. She’s been a ghost, haunting Coryo’s mind, her voice ever present in every thought he’s had for the past five years.

But, she’s got a reasoning behind her sudden reappearance. Lucy’s got no love for the Capitol or the rich patrons that fund her celebrity, and even less for Coriolanus. She’s back in Panem for one reason and one reason only - to work with the rebels of district 13 to free the children of Panem from the Games, and she’ll do anything to obtain that goal.

Even if it means marrying the man whose the reason she ran from everything she’s ever known.

[ghostbeam]

Can’t stop thinking abt fucking the ghoul

[morelikedoccock]

Still on my bullshit🎃🩺🐙⚙️

[hithisiszooz]

Just k-word a cockroach are you proud of me 😌

[polyamorouspunk]

Like theoretically I support tumblr blaze as a means to help financially compensate this hellscape but the idea of paying for more people I don’t know to give me shit online FOR paying for people I don’t know to give me shit online is a little meh if I’m being honest

[mansorus]

PRADA YOU BABY GIRL _ KEEP GOING _ 🥰💐🧸

[norrizzandpia]

I’ve Got You (LN4)

Summary: In the midst of the FIA determining whether his lap times will be deleted, Y/n finds her boyfriend sitting in front of multiple cameras, but that doesn’t matter, he’s upset and she’s got him.

Warnings: none <3

Note: this is based off when Lando’s quali lap times were deleted and he was just sitting there looking at his hands all sad :(

“Where is he?” Y/n threw the headphones off her head the moment she caught wind of the news.

Andrea approached her softly, a hand up, “He’s doing the post-quali interviews, Y/n.”

She shook her head at him, “So, what? He’s just sitting there as they converse about his lap time? Andrea, you know how he gets with these things. He shouldn’t be alone.”

Andrea stepped in front of her when she tried to maneuver around him, trying to get to Lando, “Y/n, there are too many cameras. We can’t ensure PR.”

She blinked at him, “Are you fucking kidding me? Fuck PR. I don’t care about anything, but getting to him right now. He should not be alone right now. I mean, look at him!” She waved her hand toward the TVs, screens showing Lando picking at his nails as clear embarrassment sunk into his body, “He doesn’t even want to be alone right now.”

Andrea huffed, eyes glancing to the side before landing back on her and nodding, “Fine, but no major PDA.”

She loved Andrea, she truly did, but she gave him a nasty look before rushing off.

—

She weaseled her way through the crowds, tears springing her eyes at the image of Lando sitting idly by himself. A man stopped her when she tried to get passed the barriers, “Miss, you do not have authorization to enter into this area.”

She smiled at him, “I’m his girlfriend.”

That didn’t mean anything in the eyes of security, “Okay.”

A frown found its way onto her face, “Sir, please. I’m trying to comfort someone I love.”

He continued to shake his head, “I understand, but I cannot allow you into this area. I can’t confirm who you are.”

Hands tied, her eyes spotted Oscar and she yelled him over. When his feet landed him feet away from the situation, he didn’t need anytime to realize what was going on. Oscar grabbed Y/n’s arm, “It’s okay. She’s with me.”

The man thought for a moment before allowing her through, a smile on her face as she thanked Oscar. He waved it off, asking her to promise a happier Lando. She would try, she said.

Lando saw her feet first. Her white sneakers that she loved so much aligned in his vision and he stopped picking at his fingers. His gaze slid up her form as she sat down next to him, hand sliding under and around his arm softly. She heard the murmurs, they were incredibly loud, and the camera clicks, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care. She could practically feel the upset melting off Lando. She hurt so much for him.

His body relaxed at the feeling of her warmth and when she laid her head on his shoulder, he laid his on the top of her head.

“I’m sorry, baby.” She whispered. Maybe lip readers would figure out what they said.

His hands went to fidget with the nails on his fingers, but she stopped him, linking their hands and softly rubbing his skin, “It’s okay. I need to work harder. I can’t keep failing like this.”

She squeezed his hand three times, a silent confession of love, “You’re not failing. You haven’t failed, Lan. Everybody is proud of you. Racing is a hard sport and you are one of the most talented drivers here. You’re so so hard on yourself, love.”

Lando chuckled, “Y/n, you have to say these things. You’re my girlfriend.”

She pulled her head back lightly, giving him a moment to get his off her head before looking him in the eyes, “Lan, I don’t have to say anything. When have I ever lied to you? When have I not told you that an outfit looked bad when it did? When have I not told you that a move you did in the race screwed you over when it did? When have I not told you you handled a situation badly when you did? I’ve always been up front with you. This is a hard track. You are not a failure, Lan. Nobody thinks that.”

He was quiet for a moment before pecking her lips, “Even though part of me is still beating myself up over this, knowing you’re proud of me helps it subside a bit.”

She smiled, kissing his cheek whilst still rubbing his hand, “Of course, I’m proud of you. Lan, I will always be proud of you. Even when you don’t give your all, I’m proud of you for being you. Fuck anybody who thinks different, you’ve got this. You have shown time and time again that you’ve got this. I’m sure you’ll give it your all tomorrow and you’ll continue to show just how much you’ve got this.”

His head fell to the side with a soft grin, “You think so?”

She brushed the hair around his face away, “Yes, I do think so. And, hey, even if you don’t, if you DNF, I’ll buy you your favorite ice cream and we’ll watch a sad movie, have a good cry. We can turn anything bad into something good.”

He laughed, “How is crying a good thing?”

She gave him a deadpanned look, “Baby, you love a good cry.”

He leaned into her as he giggled, “You’re right. You know me too well.”

She nodded, “I love you, don’t I?”

“I love you too. Thank you.” He whispered, kissing her lightly in fear of the cameras. He never told her often, but Y/n had the greatest ability to talk him out of his moments of self-doubt. Whether it was small or big, she always knew just the things to say to make him snap out of his anxieties. Her superpower, turning his frown upside down.

He wished he was as good as her at it, but she was Y/n, his favorite person, she did everything better than everybody.

He loved her for it, he lived for it, he continued for it.

He loved her, he lived for her, he continued for her.

And when they told him his lap times had been deleted, the weight didn’t feel as heavy. Her arm wrapped around the side of his body as they walked away and her whispers of reassurance in his ear, the lap time situation began to feel smaller.

He accredited it all to her. Her words worked wonders, but, if he was being honest, a small look sent his way from her would do the trick. He guessed it was how much he felt for her, how much of his happiness lay with her.

Under the Qatar Grand Prix lights, Lando found peace. When the reporters asked him how he was coping with the loss, he had the same response every time.

“Some time spent in the presence of my girlfriend will work wonders.”

[captainfern]

omg omg cap please i’m begging you to write this (if you have time)

HAVE YOU SEEN that specific scene of “Six” with Barry Sloane where him and his wife are trying fertility treatments and he basically has to j off and fill a cup and then his wife comes and calls him “my big bear” and man’s already busting with just that??? WELL-

can we get smth like this with Price? Like it doesn’t have to be that specific scenario just smth where his s/o is jerking him off and calls him a name, and he immediately comes, but that’s exactly not the end of it? YOU GET IT

i’ve been thinking about it an unhealthy amount these past days… I’m literally foaming at the mouth.

Anonymous asked: Been seeing a lot of Bear appreciation on here, so what about... C. Price and reader trying to (naturally, of course) conceive? Maybe he's on injury leave or something! He gets hurt and now is the perfect time to tell him she wants him to retire and put a baby in her >:) I just see that scene from SIX and go feral every time. Breeding kink go wild 🙏

Anonymous asked: Dbf!price x reader mating press? Or or or price taking her somewhere nice for dinner and they go back to his place and he leads her through it while doin the nasty….

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In Utero

Captain John Price x fem!reader

[“In Utero” Album by Nirvana]

[18+]

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• summary - you and price are trying for a baby lol. • rating - 18+ • wordcount - 3.9k • warnings - fem!reader, civilian!reader, some possessive!price, handjobs, unprotected piv (obviously), praise, breeding kink, creampies, mating press, talks of pregnancy n babies blah blah blah, body worship, breeding kink (again cause i'm being so fr), price calls you mama at one point (*whispering* is this a mommy kink? i don't know. i don't think so? but idk take this how you will), strong language

the amount of breeding kink related requests i get for this man is crazy 😭 some of you should be studied cause oh my god (i am not complaining)

killing three birds with one stone with this one. changed it a little but hope you all enjoy :)

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It had been a long few days on base, and Price had been looking forward to coming home to you.

He loved nothing more than returning home to you after work. You'd greet him, looking absolutely fucking stunning, and wrap your arms around his broad shoulders and cradle him to you. He'd breath you in, absorb your presence, his mind running a million miles an hour as he hugged you back.

You were his. And he was so happy.

Price never considered himself a very possessive person. But when it came to you, his wife, he felt an overwhelming urge to ensure everyone knew you were his.

He was so, so proud of you. He's always show you off, worship the ground you walked on. He'd hold your hand, or guide you with a hand to the base of your spine in public. He wasn't afraid to pin your body next to his in a crowd, either.

It was much the same in the bedroom.

Price would worship your entire body. He'd kiss up and down the length of it, from head to toe. He'd take extra care in massaging different parts of you that he loved– your tits, your waist, your hips, your arse, your thighs. He'd smooth his fingers over your skin, trailing kisses in their wake, whispering sweet praise and affirmations as he did so.

When he'd finally reach your face, he'd kiss you with as much passion and force as the sea. Cradling your head, holding your face, moving his lips warmly against yours, probing your mouth with his tongue, deepening the kiss so he could be closer to you.

He loved you.

You were his, and he was yours.

•º•

You had gone for a night out with your friends, leaving Price alone at home.

To keep him occupied in the silence of the house, he cleaned and cooked, listening to his music. He cooked up a meal that he stored in the fridge for later, then he proceeded to clean what he could of the house. He wanted to ensure you got home from having fun and didn't have to lift a finger.

And so Price could have you all to himself for the night.

You returned home hours later, the sun sinking past the horizon. You entered your home, your social battery ticking downwards, and Price was in front of you as soon as the front door was closed and locked.

He wrapped you in his arms, your face to his chest, and you returned the hug as he placed his chin on the top of your head.

"You had fun, sweetheart?" Price asked, taking a deep breath after pressing his nose to the crown of your head.

You hummed into his chest. "Yeah, it was nice."

You pulled out of the hug, and Price held your hand as you walked him into the living room. The both of your flopped down onto the couch. You couldn't help but admire the way he spread his legs when he sat, and the expansion of his thighs beneath his sweatpants as they made contact with the couch cushions.

You squeezed your thighs together, heat blooming in your core. A giddy, almost nervous feeling swelled in your chest as you locked eyes with your husband. You chewed on your bottom lip, fighting a flustered smile.

He looked so good.

Annnndddd you were ovulating.

Yep.

Evident by the fact that at just one look from your husband, one smile, your underwear was completely fucking soaked.

Price released a breathy laugh. "What?"

You whined, still biting your lip and smiling. "You look so handsomeeeee." You said, dragging out the final word.

He laughed again, eyes twinkling. Your eyes scanned his face, then you were crawling across the couch. He shifted, leaning back so you could crawl onto his lap, arse across his thick thighs. You ran your hands up and down his torso, feeling the smooth ridges of his muscle beneath his shirt. He hummed in the back of his throat, eyes closing, as you dragged your nails down the soft bumps of his abs.

"John, can I touch you?" You asked, hands coming to rest on the waistband of his sweatpants, toying with the ridges of the elastic.

"You are touching me." Price joked, opening his eyes. He settled his hands on your hips and squeezed gently.

You rolled your eyes. "I want your cock."

Price couldn't help but laugh through his moan as you shimmied his sweatpants and boxers down, pulling out his hardening cock. He groaned deeply as you pumped him a couple of times to full stiffness, before swiping your thumb across the head.

His hips bucked, twitching against the couch. You continued to fist him tightly while leaning over and letting a string of saliva fall from your mouth. It dripped across the tip of his cock, and Price let out a throaty moan, the grip on your hips tightening.

You used your saliva to make your hand glide, pumping him quickly. Usually, your stokes would be languid, seductive, as you prepped to either take him in your mouth or in your cunt. But this time, your movements were purposely fast, and the grunts in Price's quick breathing was an indicator that he liked it.

The wet clicks were consecutive as you stroked his cock from base to tip– squeezing tighter near the base, twisting near the tip. Price grumbled contentedly as you did so, beads of pre-cum leaking from his slit. He watched you with hooded eyes, a fucked out smile on his face as you jerked him off.

"Haven't even been home five minutes and you were so desperate for my cock, huh, sweetheart?" Price mused, hips jerking and cock twitching as you sped up the movement of your hand. He groaned, closing his eyes for a moment. He forced them open, watching your hand for a second, before finding your face. He smiled, leaning forward to try and kiss you. "Mmm this is your cock, isn't it, baby? You can have it whenever you want..."

He kissed you, and you let him. You let his tongue lick along the seam of your lips, and you allowed him to coax your mouth open, a moan passing from his to yours. You continued fisting his cock, heating up against your palm, the tip flushed and glistening.

You pulled out of the kiss and with his eyes closed, Price rested his forehead against yours, mouth agape. He opened his eyes eventually, looking down at where you rapidly stroked his throbbing cock. He let out a quiet groan, flecks of pre-cum splattering onto his shirt at the pace at which you jerked him off.

He was close, his release building higher with each stroke of your hand. He held your hips tighter, grinding you onto his lap, and you moaned quietly, sweetly. He groaned in response, lifting his mouth to try and kiss you. You backed up a bit, enough so his lips were just brushing yours.

"John?" You whispered, and he released a quiet groan at that.

"Mmm?" He didn't have the cognitive ability to reply with words at his point, solely focussed on the way you were stroking his cock, and his looming orgasm.

You pressed a brief kiss to his lips, then pulled back. He watched you, eyelids drooping, eyes glassy, and you couldn't help but smile. You leaned back in, and whispered, "I want you to put a baby in me."

Price let out a loud, guttural groan. "Holy fuck."

He came abruptly, thick ropes painting your hand and his shirt. He moaned your name, cock twitching as strings of white dribbled down your fingers and across his now semi-hard length. Price pressed forward, kissing you, and you pumped him a couple more times before you were retracting your hand. You moved your head away, and licked his cum off your fingers. His eyes rolled, and he slumped back against the couch with a groan.

"You liked that, huh?" You teased, creeping your fingers beneath his shirt and slowly pushing it up, revealing the dark happy trail that led from his navel to his pelvis.

He hummed his agreement as you pulled his shirt further, and he sat up, lifting his arms so you could pull it off all the way. You tossed it aside before running the flat of your hands up and down his body. He hummed again, this time in content as you massaged the flesh of his pectorals, running your thumbs over his nipples and making him jerk against the couch.

"D'you mean what you said?" Price suddenly asked as you dragged your nails down the grooves in his abs. Goosebumps raised along his skin.

"What, about putting a baby in me?" You smiled, and he groaned, head flopping backwards again. You ran your fingers through the hair of his happy trail, following it down to his cock, still sticky with his release. You took hold of it again, and you felt it slowly hardening. Your smile grew. "Oh, I'm serious, John."

You pumped him slowly, gently, until he was fully hard in your hand once more. Price's breathing was laboured as he kept his head tossed back, eyes screwed shut. His chest rose and fell.

You stripped yourself of your own shirt and bra while he was occupied, managing to do so while still gently stroking his cock. Then, you raised yourself, and wiggled your skirt off– you had to use both hands to do this.

With your hand gone from his cock, Price pulled his head forward to see what you were doing. He released a breathy moan, immediately bringing his hands to your waist. You laughed as he dragged you forward and buried his face between your tits. You threaded your hands into his hair, scratching gently at his scalp as he kissed the soft skin of your chest.

His hands rubbed your waist, your lower back. Then, one hand still on your lower back, the other came to rest on your tummy, and he rubbed it gently.

"Wanna get you pregnant," he whispered into your sternum. "Mhm... mhm... wanna put a baby in you."

You felt your core throb red-hot at his words, your entire body thrumming with sexual energy that really, really needed to be released. You still had your underwear on, and you could feel your arousal dripping into the soft cotton fabric.

Face still in between the mounds of your breasts, Price dragged his hands away from your stomach and back and hooked his fingers beneath the waistline of your underwear. He slowly pulled them down until they were mid-thigh and couldn't go any further with the way you were sprawled across his lap.

Price shifted his head to the side, taking one of your nipples into his mouth as he took two fingers and ran them up and down your wet slit. You keened, looking down at him with a whimper of his name. He looked up at you, mouth suctioned around your tit, as he dragged two fingers through your folds.

He retracted, moving to repeat his actions on your other nipple as he gently pushed his two fingers inside of you. You released a moan from low in your throat, holding yourself steady on your husbands shoulders as he fingered you open. He continued to watch you, tongue and teeth against your sensitive flesh, revelling in the way your tight walls clutched at his fingers.

Drops of arousal pooled past his knuckles and through the lines in his palm. He angled his hand so the drops dripped onto his lap, and the heel of his palm ground against your puffy clit. You gasped, hand shooting upwards to tug on Price's hair, his teeth scraping the bud of your nipple at the same time.

"John, I need you." You whined, trying desperately to grind yourself onto the heel of his palm. He let you, the pressure on your swollen clit making your eyes drop closed and your mouth drop open.

"What do you want from me?" He asked in a whisper, curling his fingers inside you and making your body alight with pleasure. The base of your tummy drew tight as the pads of his fingers worked that spot inside you.

"Need your cock," you whined impatiently, your climax just inches away from you. "Please, please, need you to fill me up."

You clenched around his fingers as he continued to hit that spot inside you. He applied more pressure to your clit, throbbing in tandem with the heartbeat in your chest. Price changed the angle of your sitting arrangement, so he could now comfortably kiss up the column of your neck.

"Need my cock, eh? Just need me to fill you up?" He murmured into your ear as he fucked his fingers into you. "I'll fill you up, sweetheart, I will. Fill you up niceeee and full. Fill this pretty tummy with my kids, eh, baby?"

His words made you come around his fingers without much warning. You pushed yourself against him, orgasm knocking you off balance as it wracked through you. Price fingered you through it, his other hand on your lower back and keeping your body close to his. He kissed you and although you struggled to kiss him back, you were still moaning his name into his mouth.

Price kissed you again, and then peppered kisses across your face as he took his fingers out of you. He grabbed your hips in both hands and helped you off his lap, standing you on your feet as he followed. Your underwear dropped the rest of the way down your thighs, and you quickly kicked them across the room as you grabbed Price by the shoulders and pulled him back into you.

Price's sweatpants and boxers fell and he kicked them away too as he kissed you, wrapping his arms around you. Still kissing, he led you out of the living room and eventually, the two of you made it to your bedroom, breathless.

He pushed you down onto your bed, and you giggled as he immediately followed after you, pinning your body beneath his. The weight of him made your cunt throb, arousal sticky against your inner thighs. The warm, solid form of his cock against your inner thigh made you moan, scratching your nails down his back.

"Can't wait for you to have my kids... our kids..." Price drawled between lazy kisses as he notched the head of his cock at your dripping cunt, smearing your arousal around your hole. "You're gonna look so pretty as a mum, aren't you, baby? Gonna be such a good mama."

Price pushed into you in one solid thrust, knocking the air from your lungs. You arched your back, meshing closer to him, as the tip of his cock knocked up against your cervix. You mewled, grasping at his back, as he dragged his cock out. The sensation was slow and heavy and sparked something deep in your stomach. When he was all the way out, he playfully tapped the head of his cock to your clit a couple of times. You choked on your moan, before he was filling you up again.

"John–" You moaned outwardly, sickly sweet and making him grunt above you. He doubled his efforts, slamming into you, the rhythm rocking the bed against the wall.

His fat cock split you open, stretching your wet hole around him and pushing up into your womb. You could feel him in your stomach. You felt so full.

Price pressed a hand to your lower stomach, admiring the subtle outline of his cock beneath the soft mound of your belly. He moaned loudly, pressing harder, and the feeling made you moan as well.

"John, fuck, oh my god." You whimpered as he thrust into you, heavy and rough, dragging along the tight, wet walls of your cunt. You clenched around him, your hands desperately trying to bring him closer to you. His chest hair against your tits, his hands on your stomach and hip– you wanted, no, needed him close.

He removed his hand from your stomach, instead gripping your hips as he fucked you into the mattress. He was grunting and groaning above you, eyes never leaving the way your body and face were reacting.

"That's a good girl, taking it so well... Always take it so well, sweetheart, don't you?" Price murmured, eyes on your face. "Such a good girl taking my cock. S'like this pretty cunt was made for it, eh, baby?"

For emphasis, he increased his pace. The tip of his cock slammed into your sweet spot, and you let out an embarrassingly loud moan. His thrusts were drawing wet sounds from you, and you could feel your arousal being spread across your lower arse and inner thighs as he moved.

Your second orgasm approached quickly. Price fucked you hard, his noises of pleasure above you making you flutter around him. Your clit throbbed with a heartbeat, a thin layer of sweat settling over your naked body.

"John, John–" You tried to warn him, but failed when your orgasm slammed through you mid-sentence, rendering you speechless. You gushed around him, and he moaned, hips stuttering as your cunt squeezed around his cock, your orgasm dribbling out of you with each timed thrust.

He moaned your name. "Mmm there you go, there you go. My perfect girl, that's it. Feels good, sweetheart?"

You nodded, dizzy. "Yeah, y-yeah, fuck, so good, John, so good."

Price hummed, pleased. As you babbled, he shifted off of you for a second so he could hook his hands beneath your knees. Cock still stuffed inside you, he bent your legs and pressed them up against your chest, making you release a series of airy whimpers. He pressed his body heavily against you, holding the backs of your knees and literally folding you in half.

He began his thrusts again, and your eyes rolled at the new angle– his cock hit further, deeper inside you. The remnants of your orgasm were loud and wet as he rutted into you desperately, deep grunts falling from his mouth.

"Gotta fuck you deep, baby," he whispered, voice low. "Gotta stuff you full of my cock so it takes. Want it to take... want it to fucking take..." He punctuated each sentence with an extra heavy thrust, cock dragging against your slick walls. He groaned. "Gonna get you pregnant, sweetheart. Gonna get you fat with my kids. That's what you want, yeah? Want me to breed this pretty cunt?"

You hummed a yes. His words were making you even dizzier than you already were. You moaned and moaned, pleasure poisoning your veins as he fucked you towards a third orgasm. Your body was hot, damp with sweat. Price was warm too, strands of wet hair falling over his forehead as he looked down at you.

"Fuck, fuck," Price whispered. "You're my good girl, baby, you're my good girl. Want you to come one more time for me, okay? One more time n' then I'm gonna–" He cut himself off with a moan, but you understood.

Your body shook beneath him, your legs tightening in his grasp. Then, with a shattering moan of his name, you came around his cock. Your third orgasm fizzed through you, and it took a while to fizzle out as he rutted into you nonstop. The feeling of static pleasure lingered as he chased his high, and you whimpered quietly in his ear as he fucked your sopping cunt.

Your husband was cursing under his breath, moaning your name too. His balls slapped against the curve of your arse, sticky with your arousal, and the hands on the backs of your knees gripped tighter as his orgasm loomed. He imagined the future– you, round with his baby and looking so fucking pretty. He moaned at the thought, cock throbbing inside you.

"Oh, fuck– fuck, m'gonna come, mama," it slipped out through a moan. "M'gonna breed this pretty cunt nice and full. M'gonna give you my kids–"

Buried to the hilt inside you, Price came. A lot.

He filled you, just like he promised, and you felt the thick, hot ropes flood past your cervix. You moaned his name, and he slammed his mouth onto yours, shushing you with his tongue. He continued thrusting gently, stuffing his seed further inside you, plugging it up against your womb with the head of his cock. He groaned when you squeezed around him, gently dropping your legs from him.

Price pulled out of the kiss, resting his head in the crook of your neck. "Fuck, I love you."

"I love you too." You replied breathlessly, and the both of you lay in silence for a moment, panting like dogs in heat.

Fitting, really. The thought made you smile.

Price groaned into your neck, sucking a kiss to the skin. You pet his head gently.

"What's the matter?" You asked him, soothing the crown of his head as he bit and sucked at the curve of your shoulder.

"I just imagined you pregnant again," he uttered against you. "And now I'm hard again."

You laughed. "John, oh my god."

•º•

Several months of... trying... later, you sat in your bathroom, a positive pregnancy test in your hands. Happy tears rolled down your cheeks as you looked at the two lines.

Outside, Price knocked on the door. "You alright, sweetheart?"

You sniffled. "Yeah, m'fine."

"You sure?" Price asked as soon as he heard the slight waver in your voice. "If you're not feeling well, we can tell the boys we can reschedule dinner–"

You opened the door of the bathroom with the test behind your back. Price noticed the tears, cupping your face.

"What's wrong?"

You had always planned on revealing your future pregnancy to your husband in an elaborate way. You'd dreamed of it, actually. But, overwhelmed with excitement and relief, you simply took his hands off your face, and placed the pregnancy test in his palm. He took it, confused for a moment, eyeing it skeptically.

Then, his eyes widened, tears immediately springing to his waterline as he looked down at you.

"You're pregnant?" He was crying.

"Yeah." You were crying too.

He wrapped you in his arms, pressing you gently to him and burying his face in your hair, sobbing with happiness. Your heart clenched, the excitement rolling off of him. After a long moment, he pulled back, placing a sweet kiss to your lips.

"Told you I'd get you pregnant." He smiled, winking.

You rolled your eyes.

He laughed, then looked at the test again. He beamed, eyes twinkling. Then, he looked down at you again, eyes shining with mischief. You narrowed your eyes jokingly at him.

"What?" You fought a smile.

"Are we sure this is accurate?" He smiled. "We might, you know, have to try a couple more times, just to be sure."

"John!" You laughed.

And the two of you did have to reschedule dinner with the boys. You both got distracted.

•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•

[bitchlessdino]

Reckless (m)

Pairing: adult actor!mingyu x pervert afab!reader Genre: smut Word count: 4.8k tags: camboy!mingyu, established friendship, banter, brat!reader, glass toys, invasion of privacy, rough play, anal, double penetration, degradation (pervert, slut), choking, spanking, spitting, oral (giving and receiving), swallowing, hair pulling, deep throating Summary: Mingyu is a camboy and proud of it, as he should. Finally, he's getting the applause he deserves for his work and will be attending one of the biggest adult industry events to date. He just needs you to watch over while his house while he's gone. Easy enough, right? Unbeknownst to him, you happened to be a fan. A big one. One so big that you cant help but take advantage what Mingyu fans have only ever dreamed of. author note: finally the awaited winner, camboy!mingyu! still so crazy he won over multiple reverse harems on the poll. tagging my wife @wongyuseokie because it's her birthday and deserves to wake up with some NASTY mingyu smut. thank you @highvern for beta-reading to better this fic and like both of us are saying, mingyu is a fucking freakkk in this so enjoy my babies.

Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch @cottoncheol @embrace-themagic @onlymingyus

You have only seen the room in passing personally, but countless times over video. You’re not even shocked by the dozens of expensive toys he’s put in those glass displays, so used to seeing them enter a human orifice one way or the other. The burly man bashfully guides you away from the scandalous room, skillfully diverting your attention to the lush foliage he's entrusted you to tend to, a gentle blush adorning his warm-toned cheeks.

How you keep the fact that you have been secretly watching your friend’s cam shows–including the charity stream of him doing push ups in a singular pair of skintight briefs–was a mystery, even to you. 

It’s not like you meant to get addicted to porn. But Mingyu, unapologetic about his line of work, practically served it up on a silver platter for you. He says he could use all the help he could get, but frankly, he couldn’t have it more easy. 

With that body, that hair, that face, that smile, there’s no doubt in your mind he’d be a fan favorite and you were right. He’s now one of the rising adult content creators in his line of work, heavily acclaimed in the cam category and recently in independent film. That’s what his trip is about, awarding him for his hard work that he never thought he’d accomplish.

It fills you with pride, yet piques your curiosity; fusing platonic and sensual feelings that blur the lines between friendship and desire for Mingyu, actualizing this full fledged crush. But you’d never let him find that out. Not unless it was against your will.

“And that’s pretty much it. Everything else is pretty self-explanatory. I’ll be back on Tuesday.”

“Tuesday, hmm?” Your eyebrows bounce in place suggestively. “Thinking of pursuing personal projects while working?”

He shrugs like a timid schoolboy, cheekbones pigmented and perky like bright ripe cherries. “No promises—Now, repeat back to me everything I’ve told you to do.”

You playfully roll your eyes, offended he had the gall to doubt you. “Water each green buddy once a day; keep crumbs off tables, counters, furniture, etc; put everything back where it should be; and,” you start to grin, “no sex parties, even though this is the perfect place for it.”

“Okay, that last one was obviously a joke but very much serious. Although tempting, under any circumstances, do not fuck anyone in this house while I’m gone.”

“So circumstances would be different if you were home?”

Getting a shade brighter in red, he points a demanding finger at you like a stern mother, “I mean it.”

“Yes, mom,” sarcasm coating your tongue.

“Good.”

Mingyu, armed with a suitcase containing all his essentials, casually waves you off. There's a playful authority in the final point of his finger, a silent reminder to behave before he disappears behind the imposing door.

You promise him you’ll do your due diligence in taking care of his home, and that would be an easy enough task, the real problem stems from the temptation of one specific room. Mingyu’s cam room.

Distinct from the usual rooms such as the bathroom, Mingyu's kitchen, and his primary bedroom, this space stands alone, akin to an office. Mingyu himself has shared its origin story: starting from the sweetest of riddances of a god-awful roommate, followed by many desperate nights to cover the remaining monthly rent, ultimately giving birth to this room that many of his fans like to call ‘Sinner’s Safehaven.’ So rightfully acclaimed.

You’re a fan of yourself, able to outline the bedroom from memory and recollect every toy from every live stream he’s ever posted. Unable to resist the temptation, your feet instinctively embark on a self-guided tour. Your eyes are bewitched by the intricacies of every weapon of pleasure, every scent of his array of miscellaneous liquids, every phallic-shaped object that stands tall and mighty like a national monument.

It’d be a lie to say you weren’t tempted to take advantage of the opportunity, maybe just to get the sick idea out of the way. Your hands manage to find a mind of their own, reaching over to unlock one of the glass displays, wrapping your hand around the object’s girth, and taking it out from its confinement for a closer view.

A stunning crystal toy that reflects off the lights of the room, looking in pristine condition as if fresh from packaging. If Mingyu is good at one thing it’s maintaining his tools, and he does not let anyone forget.

Ever since he showcased it on screen, you've desired to covet one just like it, inducing a late-night web surf to discover the outrageous out-of-reach prices for a product of such exceptional quality and aesthetic appeal. It does not look to be in the cards for you to own one, but borrowing wouldn’t be a problem. He did say everything only needed to be put back in place and what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

Following the devilish voice whispering in your ear, you slip into something more comfortable, letting the well-conditioned air blow a draft against your bare legs. You hold the toy excitedly before dipping your weight in the bed, the silk sheets and pillowy cushion embracing you at all sides.

The knowledge that the infamous crystal dildo is in your hand makes your heart pound and pussy throb. You can count all the videos of it being featured with one hand, and despite it all, you know it had to be Mingyu's favorite. 

One particular video comes to mind as you hold the tip against your inner thigh, moving it identical to the way Mingyu held it against him, realizing they are coincidentally the same length, same girth, and same tantalizing presence. You practically dreamed of having him and this toy inside of you for months after that show and now half of that dream would be possible.

Your fingers didn’t have to be inside you to know you’re wet, practically soaked through your panties the moment you laid eyes of Mingyu and his sex room. Fuck, if you aren’t so damn ashamed of the truth of your feelings, you’d never let him out of your sight. 

A long note of your moan exhales as you insert the tip between your wet folds, introducing the strangest yet arousing thing to be done to you. It’s certainly big as you expect it to be, maybe even more as you plunge it in deeper. Affirmations exit your lips in short bursts, your other hand up your shirt as they tease your nipples through your bra.

Your legs crutch in reaction to its ridged shape massaging your walls, then the cool hard surface finds that familiar hotspot, unfortunately only halfway down its length. Your cheeks flush imagining Mingyu’s face, imagining the words to come out of those lips if it were his cock.

‘Already? I haven’t even put it all in yet.’

It fuels your determination, deadset in taking all of it—all of him.

‘You can do it, can't you? You can take my cock for me?’

Somewhere, lost in the contagious air of sex and starvation, your mind runs rampant. Your hips buck into the crystal, letting it settle inside you all the way before you thrust it harder. You hiss at its size, expelling a moan once you no longer feel its shaft around your fingers and just take it, take it as if it a canine smile were on the other end.

‘So good…so good at taking all of my cock.’

“I am being good,” you mumble under your breath. “So good...”

Your whimpers go unnoticed by you, only worried of the dildo carrying on its mission. Sensation running down your legs and arms, and your hips hover over the mattress. Your back arches and you spell his name out in the only way the body fully intends you to: in longing breaths, “Mingyu…please…”

‘What? What is it?’

You groan at the image of his smile. “Let me cum please…”

‘Do you deserve it?’

“Yes, Gyu, please…” You thrust faster. “Oh my god—“

‘Yes, that’s it. That pretty pussy should cum all over my hard fucking cock.’

“Yes, yes!” Your arousal seeps all around you, a visible stain beneath your thighs and you don’t care. “God, right there! Right there—“

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Then it becomes no longer your imagination. The voice you’ve created in your mind had an echo, lingering in the depths of your filth rotted head, but the one you just heard had to be the original.

You scramble to hide under the sheets, eyes as big as saucers as the man of your fantasy stands clear in your reality at the foot of his bedroom. “M-Mingyu. The train.”

“I forgot some things. Couldn’t leave without them, so I told the driver to turn back.” He peers over your situation, intrigued by your legs folded on top of one another beneath the covers, the proof trepidation of your forehead, and your lips swollen from instinctive biting. “What do we have here?”

You laugh nervously, unprepared for the shitshow soon to arise. “I see how this looks—“

“Looks like you’ve had a bit of fun.” He huffs with his arms crossed as he approaches, the human made stain plain in sight on his bed sheets which you’ve fail to cover up. “Too much maybe. And all by yourself.”

“Well, you see—“

“And the mess you made.” His hand pushes against the mattress, leaning over to your side and drinking in your view. “All over my bed. All over my Crystal dildo.”

You avoid his gaze, wishing to disappear in a cloud of smoke right about now. “Okay. You can understand how this would bother you.”

“Oh I’m not bothered by it—not in the slightest—but…you could’ve at least waited until I came back.”

Mingyu pulls the sheets off of you and he exposes your guilt, seeing it in its raw, glistening glory. His eyes scan over you, swallowing at that scent revealed, and a fire lights up in his stomach. “Dirty little pervert can’t stop saying my name while using my toy, hmm? Don’t you know better to touch things that don’t belong to you?”

“I…I…I’m sorry,” You squeak.

“Well, I can’t just let this go now, can I?”

You shake your head, breathing through your nose. You’re scared of him hearing how fast your heart has decided to pound, how wet you’ve become well after your orgasm, and how dry your throat is after you heard him call you a pervert. 

Wordlessly, he takes the glass dildo from your fingertips, claiming what’s rightfully his, and plunging between his lips halfway down its shaft. Your eyes capture it in full color, reveling in the moan that slips past his lips. Your chest rises and falls watching him take it deeper almost effortlessly as his slack cladded knees dip into the mattress. 

“Mmh…who knew a pervert’s pussy could taste so sweet,” he mumbles, smiling into the toy. It leaves his mouth with a pop before it aims back at you. “Taste it. Taste how sweet your dirty pussy is all over my cock.”

Your stomach coils, reluctantly obliging to crack open your mouth. Mingyu hums, content with what he sees as he eases the toy towards your mouth. “Don’t be shy. Take my crystal cock, perv.”

Your lips wrap around the head, tasting the salty, faintly sweet, flavor lingering on the glass before it travels past your lips.You look back at him, almost as if waiting for his instruction, and receive a stroke on the back of your head as a response. 

“That’s it. Let it go deep down your throat. Have to make up for ruining my bed, right?”

You nod, unable to speak as you bob down, licking up what you can and collecting every inch of the toy. His eyes become a dark pit that stares back at you, dominance taking over his entire presence. He doesn’t speak, only watches and for what feels like forever, pushing the toy in and out of your mouth.

Your muffle around its girth, tears starting to brim your eyes as it hits the back of your throat, but it doesn’t falter Mingyu in the slightest.

"You're crying. Does it hurt?" Mingyu asks in a domineering tone, to which you nod. "Do you want me to stop?" he inquires, to which you shake your head.

His lips graze your ear, and you sense his charming smile whispering against your skin as he replaces the imaginary devilish voice with his very real and alluring one. “Then deep throat it like you mean it, you fucking slut.”

Your lips parted wider, a shattered moan aches out, only to have the toy stuck down your throat long enough for your tears to sting. Gasping for air, Mingyu finally shows mercy and unplug your airways. Coughing uncontrollably, salvia dribbles down your chin as you retrieve your stolen oxygen. His hand tenderly caresses at the back of your head, threading through the tangles of your hair.

“Good job,” he says in a hushed voice, picking your face up by your chin. “Now. Do you think that was an appropriate punishment?”

He tucks your hair behind your ear, lethally silent as he anticipates your response.

It takes you a moment to realize where you are, who you're with, and what this all meant for you. Mingyu’s cam persona has haunted your inner thoughts, degrading you as if you were scum, tossing your body like a rag doll, marking and bruising your skin only he would find, and you relished in every earth-shattering, mind-blowing orgasm it’s caused. You’d be a fool to say otherwise.

“N-no. It’s not enough.”

“Is that so,” He questions amused. Slowly, his hand travels from your hair to your face, tracing your jaw in a languid movement and coming across your neck to size it in his large hand. “What will be enough for you exactly?”

The pad of his fingers presses the slightest amount of pressure on the column of your neck, emerging a gasp so soft Mingyu almost doesn't register it. He grins, hot breath fanning your face as he watches your legs squirm. It comes as a surprise to you when he single-handedly pins your body against the bed frame, leveraging you against it before he comes down and faces your pussy drowning its own cum. 

“I should at least have compensation done for the damage you’ve made, don’t you think?”

He grips your neck a fraction tighter before you feel his mouth make contact with your core. Physically vibrating, you feel the sensation of his tongue flicking at your clit, and visibly melt before he explores down. “You’re so fucking wet,” he chuckles condescendingly through your arousal. “If I knew any better I’d think you’re wet because of me, as if the screaming of my name wasn’t proof enough.”

“Mingyu...” you whine through your ceased breath.

“And you sound so pretty when you say my name too,” He groans as inhales your scent that blurs his surroundings, devouring you inside and out. “Fucking tease…taste so damn good.”

Mingyu’s chokehold loosens to cascade down your body, fingers moving like ribbons tracing your shape and memorizing every bump and curve through the thin layer of your shirt. Your voice gives out, clenching your fists as he explores you in swirls, moisture seeping out of your cunt but never ending and leaving you in an endless loop of pleasure.

He holds you up by your legs, your thighs crushing either side of his face as he buries himself in your insatiable pussy while its dripping down his chin and neck. He groans inside you, mustering every impish sound possible as he eats you clean, not minding how you’re at the end of your wits locking his head in place.

“G-gyu, shit,” you sputter. “I’m c-close.”

He simply scoffs, “Good,” plunging his tongue deeper, nose pushing against your swollen clit. Words stay lodged down your throat, trapped from escaping as you writhe in his grip and he swallows the taste of you succumbing to his control. You aren’t aware of the eyes watching every second of you give in, how they beam with pride and greed as he goes for more. The notes of fruit and musk only makes Mingyu’s craving intensify, unwilling to surrender the sweet nectar once he’s gotten his taste. 

With a yelp, he drops your legs and tugs you toward him, rendering you defenseless as he's clamped either of your side. You drink in his body towering over you as he swiftly pulls his shirt over his head and off his body, bestowing you a deific image that you never grow tired of.

“Shall I help you undress?” He offers, kindly for once.

You drop your head in a reluctant nod and your heart swells at the sight of his smile before they capture your lips, tasting yourself on his tongue.

Mingyu’s movement isn’t needy, it’s efficient and effective. Salty peppermint kisses and hands that move gingerly with ease culminate proof of a man that has countless amounts of partners and endless experience. Almost as if he’s ready for any and every given opportunity and you more than believe it.

Seeing as he knows how to handle himself, undoubtedly that meant he’d know how to handle you. That rouses you, anticipation resonating in the pit of your stomach, and like that, you’ve embraced your nudity just as Mingyu has in the safety of his firm arms.

He manages to kick off his pants, freeing him of the restraint of fabric and his hips dip into yours. And again and again. And again and again. Just to show you what you’ve created in your messy experiment. 

If you weren’t already hot under his touch, you swear the room was hotter than any vast desert. Perspiration sprayed against your back, your forehead, your chest, but strangely you’re obsessed with his and the incidentally salty taste of his skin as you kiss. “You feel huge,” you mutter in a flustered breath. 

His cock pulsates through his briefs against your thigh, screaming to join the party and make himself known in ways he hasn’t shown yet. Not yet with you. He smiles against your lips, grasping your hips more firmly. More definitely. “It’s too soon to be saying that.”

“Then…” Your fingers, tantalized by the appearance of his styled hair, didn’t resist the urge to comb through it, pleasantly surprised with the silky, pliable sensation. “I hope I get to soon.”

“Pervert,” he repeats with a grin. His hand wraps around your wrist, pulling it away from his head and landing on the hem of his underwear. Mingyu is good at getting back on track as he immediately pulls his waistband away from torso, springing his cock that stands in your direction in determination. A familiar yet foreign sight that you never expected to be on the other end of. “By the way, don’t forget. You’re making it up to me. Not the other way around.”

Naturally, your hand finds the ridged texture of his shaft. “Yes, of course.” You feel it twitch under his touch, growing as a nail trails up a singular vein. “But I never said I’d make that easy.”

“Really? A sentence where ‘you’ and ‘easy’ just seems to fit.”

You sneer at him, calming down after seeing an amicable jab you’re used to. “You’re one to talk.”

“And I won’t be done talking. On your knees,” He demands.

“Or what?”

Mingyu isn’t new to your taunting but he can't help the steam coming out of his ears this time around. Gathering your weight, he swiftly turns you on your stomach and props you up as his cock settles between the cheeks of your ass. “I’ll do things like that. I’m patient until I’m not. Not when it comes to perverted brats like you.”

You voluntarily moan as you back into him, allowing the cock to slide up and down. “I’d like to see it. Unless you’re all talk.”

A familiar coolness of glass finds itself home in your sopping cunt. You mewl at the sensation, rolling your eyes to the back of your head. The side of your head braces for the bed and letting the toy suction your pussy, buzzing . “Fuck…”

“Spoke to soon, didn’t you?”

“Have—fuck—mercy…” Your words speak like pleads but your body could not be more delightful in taking every inch, adjusting from the backside in record time.

“See? Look at you take all that cock,” he spits in the smack center, rubbing around your rim and pussy thoroughly. “And knowing you and our conversations, I know you can take it well somewhere else. Isn’t that right?”

“Y-you wouldn’t…”

“I can. Unless…that’s not what you want. Unless you want me to leave this room without putting my cock and you into let them fuck you like the dirty fucking slut you are.”

“Fuck…you…” The glass vanished through you, reappearing at Mingyu's will, muffling your protests, and swallowing the glass dildo satisfyingly from your cunt. The bedsheets become balls in your hand, wrinkled and worn, just as you planned to be after Mingyu is through with you.

“That’s not an answer.” He teases, thrusting faster.

“Shit…fuck…Yes please fuck, I want it. I want more. Please…”

“Excited are you, pervert?” He inquires, managing to grab the lube from a nearby drawer and squirt it on the ring of your hole. The bite of the cool gel stings in a way that’s familiar, but does not grow any easier as it physically and mentally preparing you.

“You…suck…Kim Mingyu…”

“I’ve already done that already, perv.”

Taking the crystal dildo out of your pussy, he carefully sets it aside, prepping your untouched hole for entry and feeling you clenched around his fingers. “So tight. What? Did you lie and you’re actually an anal virgin.”

“I’m not,” you moan in defense, hearing the erotic squelching burns your ears and makes your already hot skin scorching to the touch. His fingers are tolerable, but still bigger you’re used to and it’s more apparent as he inserts another finger. “I just never had anything that big. Nothing your size.”

“I’m honored.”

You hope that his cock could fuck you the way his fingers does, if not then better, already buzzing at the pace they move inside you, stretching you wider and wider.

“F-fuck off.”

“Not yet. It’s coming.” You feel the head of the dildo perk up your rim as it eases in you, the drip of lube between your cheeks drowning your hole and all the moisture it could ask for. Still, Mingyu is careful to adjust to your preference, opening you up and seeing how the toy slowly destroys you inside and out.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Your hands slam against the bed, allowing the gradual introduction to take over all your senses. 

“You’re taking the cock so well up your ass, fuck. I haven’t seen anyone do that yet. Remember you talking about it, made curious if you actually could.”

“I don’t lie…about stuff…like that…” you spread your ass, offering the perfectly lewd view for Mingyu, practically dripping all for him.

“Shit, I need to be inside you.”

He rolls a condom on his length, tossing the wrapper where he doesn’t see it and teases your slit moist in your cum. In the midst of it, you feel the tip of his cock rubbing your clit, and your whine ensue as you wait for more, not properly being used to the full advantage. Mingyu laughs to himself, seeing how desperate you look, reveling in the sounds that leave your body as it fuels his cock before he plunges inside you.It's an indescribable sensation, almost sacrilegious in its intensity, yet it leaves you convinced that Heaven must reside wherever Mingyu is.

You thought you knew the meaning of being spit open until it’s Mingyu reintroducing the idea. His cock and toy planted  so deep inside you, fucking both of your holes until you’re rendered into like what he calls you, a perverted little slut. You don't mind in the slightest; in fact, when the thoughts swirling through your mind are nothing but incoherent, you're utterly indifferent to anything else. Your state of matter was to be fucked, double fucked, and fucked to ruin until you’ve come over and over again.

“Stupid slut…stupid…perverted…fucking slut…Look at you…you like getting fucked in the pussy and ass, hmm?”

“Yes god yes,” you confirm, devoid of words otherwise.

He smacks you full against the cheek, groaning into the sex thicken air as he melts into your body like butter. “Yeah? How does it make you feel?”

“Full…”

“You like that?” Another smack to your ass. “Fucking pervert likes being fucked full. Big fucking surprise.”

His thrusts grow rough, already annoyed by the toy in his hands when he’s eager to plant both on your body and fill the full extent of your body. “God you’re hot,” he mumbles, “Why does a pervert like you get to be so hot, hmm?” He rams into you, feeling you jump back against him.

“Makes me want to fucking drain my cock in you, but no, I have—“ he slams again, a burst of ache living your lips, “—Work! God, I fucking needed this. I needed you and every inch before I needed to leave.”

You’d respond if you weren’t so occupied. He drowns your thoughts out every second he’s inside you, to the point nothing else exists.

“Shit, I have work,” Mingyu repeats as if dawning the thought for the first time. He lets go of the toy and manages to direct it with his thrusts, moving him and the toy into you at the same pace. You scream at him, shattered breaths taking over you, and his name is the only consistent, as you spread yourself wider to take it, left with only the base of the toy and the end of Mingyu’s shaft.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” you whine incessantly, shaking and bucking into him until you cum all over his cock, undoubtedly flooding and dripping down the side of your legs.

But Mingyu takes his time and it tastes sweet than any candy, fucking your pussy and ass deeper, harder until his mind as gone as yours is. “Shit, shit, shit. Turn around and look at me.”

You do as told, dildo still in the pocket of your ass, as his cock is aimed at your lips, the condom abandoned just like its wrapper. His hands run in your hair, gripping from the root and he pushes you over the head of his cock, groaning as more pretty souvenir images for him to look back on. “Look at you. Good at taking cock there too?”

You nod, mumbling a confirmation before Mingyu penetrates deeper, noticing him lodged in you throat before bucking his hips in your mouth. “Then take it. Take all of my cum. Can’t leave another mess behind.”

Wide eyes of mischief look back at him, holding him by the back of his cock as you bob against him. He grips tighter to the back of his head, pulling and tugging as your hair become the size of his fists and you feel him hit the back of your throat. He now sees the white of your eyes, the flare of your nostrils, the quiver of jaw before it overwhelms him.

“Fuck, take it.” The load builds up to its full intensity, intoxicating him until theirs tears even in his eyes, the kind that supersedes one of joy. 

You hold his hips with both spreadhands, welcoming his release with closed eyes. You mouth gets flooded, blown up so full you’re close to choking, gagging from the contents dispersed in you.

“Take it,” Mingyu says fatigued. “You don’t have to swallow it, but take it.”

But you do swallow it, what you could anyway, and it’s inevitable that you’re a coughing mess when you unlatch from him, dribbling in a concoction of your bodily fluids and cum running along your torso, cunt, and legs.

“Okay,” Mingyu pants, “Now I really need to get to that train.”

You’re catching your breath as he cleans himself off with wet paper towels he had on hands, cleaning off the work of his cock but leaving the rest of him untouched. It’s fine, however, seeing as he glows with an air of lust, making him more charismatic than he normally did, and you’re brimming with pride knowing you’ve caused it. “I’m surprised you have that much energy off camera.”

“It helps, that it’s you.” He timidly admits, raising the temperature in your body. “And who said we’re off camera.” He points to the security camera at the corner of his room, reminding you too late that he’s used to using more than one camera to capture any and all angles. “I even forgot about it for a second.”

“Oh.”

“I can delete it if you want.”

“No it’s okay, but um….Send me a copy.”

[pucksandpower]

Prove Them Wrong

Charles Leclerc x wife!Reader

Summary: when an invitation to your high school reunion arrives, you are ready to throw it in the garbage … but your husband convinces you to go and prove them wrong

Happy Charles Leclerc contract extension day to all who celebrate 🫶

The invitation arrives in the mail on a Tuesday morning. You’ve just finished your coffee and are clearing the breakfast dishes when you see it — that familiar crest imprinted on the thick, creamy stationary. Your five-year high school reunion.

Immediately, your stomach drops. You haven’t thought about high school in years, haven’t had any contact with your classmates in just as long. Those weren’t the easiest years for you. In fact, they were some of the hardest.

You were shy, quiet, a bit awkward. You never quite fit in with the popular crowd, though you longed to. Much of your time was spent alone, lost in books and music, wishing you could break out of your shell. The kids were cruel in their exclusion. You still remember the whispers, the laughter at your expense, the feeling of being an outsider looking in.

After graduation, you left it all behind without a backward glance. You built a new life, one where you finally found your place. You have a successful career, an amazing husband, a beautiful home. You’ve traveled the world, experienced things you could have never imagined as that geeky teen.

Yet holding the invitation in your hands, the old insecurities come flooding back. Could you really face those people again? The ones who looked through you like you were invisible? Who made you feel small?

You’re lost in thought when Charles comes into the kitchen. He kisses your cheek and asks what’s wrong. Wordlessly, you hand him the invitation.

He glances at it and understanding dawns on his face. “Ah, a reunion. I take it you’re not thrilled?”

You shake your head. “I hated high school. The kids were really mean. I don’t know if I can go back there and face them again.”

Charles pulls you into a hug. “I’m sorry you went through that, love. Kids can be terribly cruel.” He looks thoughtful for a moment. “You know, this might be a good chance to show them how wrong they were about you.”

You give him a skeptical look and he continues. “Think about it — you’re not that shy girl anymore. You’ve accomplished so much, you have an amazing life. Maybe going back will give you some closure. A chance to prove to yourself and to them how far you’ve come.”

“I don’t know ...” you say uncertainly.

Charles grasps your shoulders, looking into your eyes. “You are an incredible woman. You have nothing to feel insecure about. I know it won’t be easy, but I think this could be good for you. Let them see the strong, successful person you’ve become. And I’ll be right by your side the whole time.”

You take a deep breath, letting his words sink in. Maybe he’s right. This could be an opportunity to flip the script, to rewrite the ending to that difficult chapter of your life.

“Okay,” you say finally. “Let’s do it.”

Charles grins and pulls you in for a real embrace now. “That’s my girl. I’m so proud of you.”

Over the next few weeks, you have moments of confidence mixed with waves of doubt. Charles is a constant source of reassurance. The night before the reunion, your nerves are frayed.

“What if they’re still awful? What if all those old feelings come rushing back the moment I see them?” You fret as you get ready for bed.

Charles takes your hands, his gaze earnest. “I know you’re scared, chérie. But don’t forget — you’re not alone now. I’ll be by your side the whole time. And if anyone says one nasty thing, we’ll walk right out that door, okay?”

You smile gratefully at him. “Okay. Thank you, Charlie. I don’t know if I could do this without you.”

He kisses you softly. “You’ve got this. Get some rest, mon cœur.”

***

In the morning, you take extra care getting ready, donning an elegant dress and styling your hair just so. Looking in the mirror, you remind yourself that you belong in these clothes, in this life.

The reunion is at your old high school, in the gymnasium. As you walk in hand-in-hand with Charles, the smells hit you first — sweat and sneakers, just like you remember. There are balloons and streamers, a table of snacks and drinks. And clustered together, familiar faces you haven’t seen in five years.

Your heart begins to pound. Charles gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. “You’ve got this,” he murmurs. Then you lift your chin and step forward to greet your past.

As you scan the room, you recognize faces that used to fill the halls of your high school. Some look familiar, unchanged by the passing years. Others you barely recognize at all.

You steel yourself as a group of giggling girls comes into view — the former popular clique. Lindsay, Heather, and Bethany. Once the queens of the school, rulers of all they surveyed.

Lindsay spots you first. Her overly plumped lips curl into a smirk. “Well, look who it is. Little Y/N Y/L/N.”

You squeeze Charles’ hand tighter as that old childhood instinct to shrink kicks in. But you lift your chin and meet Lindsay’s gaze head-on. “Lindsay. Hello.”

Her eyes flick dismissively over you before landing on Charles. They widen, lips parting. Of course she recognizes him — his face is rarely out of the public eye.

“Y/N!” Bethany exclaims with obviously fake delight. “Aren’t you going to introduce us to your friend?”

You allow yourself a small, satisfied smile. “Of course. This is my husband, Charles Leclerc.”

Charles gives them a polite nod. “Pleasure to meet you ladies.”

The mean girls’ jaws drop in unison. You can’t help but feel a swell of pride at the impressed once-overs they give Charles.

Heather recovers first, plastering on a sycophantic grin. “The pleasure’s all ours! What a lovely surprise.” She touches Charles’ arm lightly. “We would love to catch up and hear all about your life, Y/N.”

You catch Charles’ eye. His lips twitch, seeing right through them.

“That’s kind of you to offer,” you say smoothly. “If you’ll please excuse us, I see some other classmates I’d like to greet.”

You steer Charles away, leaving them sputtering. As soon as you’re out of earshot, he chuckles. “Well, they certainly changed their tune quickly.”

“Once they realized they could get something from me now,” you reply wryly.

You make small talk with a few classmates, keeping it surface-level. Charles’ presence by your side is bolstering. With him here, you’re reminded that you have nothing to prove to these people. Your worth isn’t defined by their approval.

After grabbing drinks, you scan the room again. Your stomach sinks as your eyes land on a familiar figure — Brad Collins. Handsome as ever, surrounded by a gaggle of admirers.

Brad was your biggest crush all through high school. You pined for him secretly, knowing he was way out of your league. He never gave you the time of day — too focused on football, parties, and whichever popular girl caught his eye that week.

“Everything okay?” Charles asks, noticing your expression.

You nod tightly. “My old crush is here.”

Charles spots him and understanding crosses his face. He presses a kiss to your temple. “His loss, mon amour.”

At that moment, Brad looks up and notices you. His stare is cold, dismissive. He says something to his friends and they erupt in laughter, eyes cutting your way.

Your cheeks burn. Some things never change.

Charles’ jaw tightens. He takes your hand firmly and starts steering you toward Brad and his posse.

You glance at him in surprise. “What are you doing?”

“We’re going over to say hello,” he replies calmly.

“Charles, you don’t have to ...”

He silences you with a look. “Trust me.”

You swallow hard and nod. Brad watches you approach with that familiar cocky smirk.

“Well, look who it is,” he drawls as you come to stand before him. “Never thought I’d see you at one of these things, Y/L/N.”

You stare him down unwaveringly. “Yes, well, people can surprise you.”

Brad’s gaze slides to Charles, brows lifting. You can see him trying to place how he might know this handsome, expensively dressed man by your side.

“Brad, this is my husband, Charles Leclerc,” you say sweetly.

Brad’s smirk disappears. His friends gape between you and Charles.

“Husband, huh?” Brad says after a pause, regaining his bravado. “Well, congratulations. Didn’t know you had it in you to land a guy like this.”

Fury rises in you, but before you can respond, Charles steps forward. His voice is pleasant but his eyes are steel.

“Clearly you don’t know much about my wife at all. But that’s your loss. I’m the lucky one who gets to experience her incredible heart and mind every day.”

Brad flushes under Charles’ stare. An awkward beat passes.

Charles continues calmly, “I couldn’t ask for a better partner. I just hope you realize what an opportunity you missed out on back then. Have a good night, gentlemen.”

He turns, guiding you away and leaving Brad speechless behind you. Your eyes shine as you gaze up at Charles.

“Have I told you lately that I love you?”

He grins. “Feel free to tell me again. And I meant every word.” He nods over at Brad’s group, now whispering furiously. “Hopefully that wipes the smirk off his face.”

You laugh, leaning up to kiss Charles’ cheek. “This turned out to be good advice after all. Thank you for being here, for reminding me who I am now.”

The rest of the reunion passes uneventfully. You mingle, laugh, and share stories with classmates who weren’t part of the toxic popular crowd. They’re welcoming and kind. For the first time, you feel like you’re reconnecting with peers, not tormentors.

As you and Charles get into the car to drive home, you let out a long, satisfied breath. The demons of your past have been conquered for good. You faced your bullies and they’re the ones who were left lacking.

You squeeze Charles’ hand, your heart full of gratitude. “Let’s go home.”

***

The adrenaline rush from the reunion slowly fades as you and Charles drive to your hotel. You lean your head back against the leather seat, letting out a long exhale.

“How are you feeling?” Charles asks, glancing your way.

You consider the question. “Good,” you realize with some surprise. “Really good actually.”

Charles smiles. “I’m glad to hear it.”

You shake your head slowly. “I can’t believe I almost didn’t go. Thank you for pushing me to face them. It was so empowering to see their reactions, to realize how little I care about their opinions now.”

“You did all the hard work,” he reminds you. “I just gave you a little nudge. I’m so proud of you, chérie.”

Warmth spreads through you at his words. Not for the first time, you feel a rush of gratitude that this man chose you, sees you, loves you exactly as you are.

Once in your suite, Charles makes you a cup of chamomile tea and you curl up together on the couch. You rest your head on his shoulder, replaying the events of the night in your mind.

“Do you think they’ll actually learn anything from tonight?” You ask after a few minutes of comfortable silence. “All those kids who were so terrible — will seeing me change their perspectives at all?”

Charles considers this, running his fingers idly through your hair. “I’m not sure. Hopefully it gave them something to think about, but some people never grow out of that mindset. The important thing is that you held your head high and didn’t let them make you feel small.”

You nod slowly. “I think if I could go back and tell my teenage self that this night would come, it would have made those years a little more bearable. Knowing I would come through it stronger. That I would have you by my side.”

He kisses the top of your head. “I’ll remind you as often as you need. Though for what it’s worth, I don’t think you give yourself enough credit. You’ve always had an inner strength, even if it took time to fully embrace it. Those kids certainly didn’t put it there.”

You smile up at him. “Have I mentioned lately that you always know exactly what to say?”

He chuckles. “Once or twice.”

You talk softly as the evening winds down, the tea warming you from the inside out. Your reunion with the ghosts of high school is finally behind you. It’s time to let go of the last lingering traces they have over you.

Over the next week, life returns to its normal rhythm. You throw yourself back into work, energized by a new sense of confidence and peace. Every day the experience recedes further into the past.

Until the phone call comes.

You’re just sitting down to lunch when your cell lights up with an unfamiliar number. For a moment you simply stare at it, perplexed.

After a brief internal debate, you answer. “Hello?”

“Y/N!” Lindsay chirps in an overly bright voice. “How are you, hon?”

You hold the phone away from your ear, making a face at her faux familiarity. “I’m fine. To what do I owe the pleasure?” You ask evenly.

“Well, I was just calling to see if we could get together! You know, have a little reunion of our own. I’d love to catch up outside of that whole silly event.”

You nearly choke on your water. “You would?”

“Of course!” Lindsay laughs airily. “I barely got to talk to you. And I’d love to spend more time with that charming husband of yours ...”

Ah. There it is. You have to stifle an eye roll.

“That’s … kind of you to offer,” you say carefully. “But I’m afraid our schedules are pretty busy at the moment.”

“Oh, I’m sure we could find the time!” She presses. “I would love to take you two to dinner. My treat!”

Tempting as that is, you have zero desire to spend more time with this woman, despite her transparent new interest in you.

“Appreciate the invitation, but I’ll have to pass,” you say, your tone final. “Take care, Lindsay.”

You hang up before she can protest further. Shaking your head, you go back to your salad. Some things never change.

When Charles gets home, you regale him with the bizarre phone call. He looks equally astonished.

“She actually asked you to dinner? Just to get closer to me?” He gives an incredulous laugh.

You grin ruefully. “Yep. I guess you made more of an impression than we realized.”

He shakes his head in disbelief. Then his expression turns thoughtful.

“You know what? I think we should take her up on that offer after all.”

You stare at him. “What? Why?”

His eyes glint mischievously. “Because I’d like to make it very clear what I think of people who treat you so poorly. And a free dinner out sounds lovely.”

You can’t help but laugh at his unexpected scheming side. “Look at you, getting all protective and devious! I have to admit, it would be gratifying to knock her off her pedestal a bit more.”

Charles winks. “That’s what I was thinking.”

And so, despite your better judgment, you call Lindsay back and accept her invitation to dinner that weekend.

You take more care than usual getting ready, playing up your most striking features. Charles looks unfairly handsome in his designer suit, hair perfectly tousled just to annoy Lindsay further.

When you arrive at the trendy upscale restaurant she chose, Lindsay is already there waiting. She air-kisses your cheeks in greeting, fawning over you and Charles effusively.

As the meal begins, she dominates the conversation, barely letting you get a word in. She name-drops shamelessly, trying to impress Charles with all her supposed connections.

“Oh Charles, you simply must come stay at our villa in Positano sometime! I’d be happy to arrange it for you both. Anything for Y/N’s hubby!” She titters, touching his arm.

You and Charles exchange subtle amused looks across the table. When the waiter appears for your order, Charles gives him an easy smile.

“My wife will have the scallops and I’ll take the filet. Oh, and send over your most expensive bottle of champagne, please. My treat tonight.”

Lindsay’s smile freezes. You bite back a grin, catching his eye again. Message received.

As dinner winds down, Charles finally turns the tables on her. “So Lindsay, what have you been up to since high school? Y/N tells me you two were quite close.”

Lindsay flushes, flustered. “Oh … well, you know, this and that!” She forces a laugh. “I’m in between ventures at the moment. But I stay very busy with charity work and running in social circles.”

“How lovely for you,” Charles says neutrally. “And your husband? What does he do?”

“I’m, uh, not married,” she mumbles, clearly off-kilter now.

“I see. Well, I’m sure the right man will come along someday.” He smiles placidly. “Everyone deserves to feel that kind of love, don’t you agree?”

Lindsay just nods, face pinched. You stifle a satisfied smile behind your napkin.

Later in the car, Charles grins over at you. “That was entertaining.”

You lean over and kiss his cheek. “Have I mentioned you’re the best husband ever?”

He laughs. “A few times. But I’ll never get tired of hearing it.”

[misslovasstuff]

Things that they say which make you weak in the knees

fem!reader x op!men: Zoro, Sanji, Law.

information: nsfw content is marked aside.

please support me here (⁎⁍̴̛ᴗ⁍̴̛⁎) ： ko-fi

Zoro

“You’re so pretty when you fight”

The way you just send that guy flying with just one punch makes me think you can be so ruthless sometimes… I like it.”

“You decided to wear the most seductive perfume for me to get drunk on.”

“Come, rest on my lap.”

“I want to hold your hand just in case you get lost, you know…”

“I’ll never let you out of my grip.”

“You’re the sword I point to myself, my greatest weakness.”

“One more tear coming from your eyes and I’ll let the world know what it means to live in hell.”

“I got you one of those hair clips you like.”

“You’ve gotten stronger, so it will be soon enough that you will surpass curly eyebrows.”

“I’m so proud of you.”

“Well, can’t blame a man for not being able to say no to his woman.“

“You’re one of the strongest people I know, babe. Don’t get discouraged.”

“You feeding me food just made my whole day.”

“Just because I’m with a beautiful woman does not mean I know how I did it alright?”

“Beautiful, everything about you is so beautiful.”

“I’ve missed you all day, a lot.”

“Please say it one more time, say it again that you love me.”

NSFW

“Fuck baby, you’re tightening around me so much.”

“You like doing the exact opposite of what I tell you, huh? Then don’t bend over and absolutely don’t scream my name while I’m at it.”

“Every hole of yours takes me so well. Does your body only accept my cock?”

“You’ve been fantasising about this moment, right?”

“Spit out all the positions you’ve imagined yourself with me. We’re going to try them all.”

“Your gaze on me is so intense, what do you want baby? Whisper to me all your nasty thoughts?”

“I like it when you scream like that, go even louder if you want. Let yourself go wild, I’m here with you, I got you.”

“Look at yourself, your hips are moving on their own. Are you this eager for me?”

“Leaving all these marks on my skin, what do you want to show? That I’m yours? There is none in the world who doesn’t know that I belong to you.”

Sanji

“Where does your beauty come from? The heavens?”

“I haven’t really known love before laying my eyes on you.”

“Mon amour, the dress I got looks marvellous on you, my goodness…I can’t look away. Don’t mind your boyfriend staring at you for a while.”

“I made your favourite dessert, love. And no, it won’t make you fat, and no it was not a bother for me. You’re never a bother for me cher. Now open your mouth.”

“Who hurt you like this? Tell me. I know you’re kind and don’t want to hurt anyone, but I need to meet the bastard who did this to you.”

“Pretty girl looking at the pretty sunset not knowing she’s prettier, no, the prettiest!”

“Your hair has grown so beautifully during the past few months, sweetheart. You look like a fairy princess.”

“Wait I don’t want you to go and leave me alone with mosshead! Pleaseeeee, baby nooooo!”

“Is this guy bothering you?”

“Look man, can’t you see the lady has no interest in you whatsoever? Keep walking and don’t you dare even to look back at her, bastard!”

“I read the little note you left for me in the kitchen, it’s still not funny that you sign with a spiral brow every time.”

NSFW

“I’ll start begging if you keep teasing me like this, mon cœur.”

“So afraid to kiss your lips and taint them with mine. How can I not tremble when I touch something so heavenly?

“Slow down, Angel. All this is here for you.”

“You taste so good, I want more…more…”

“Such a good girl for putting your legs over my shoulders, you know what your boyfriend likes, don’t you sweetheart?”

“Yes, baby exactly like that. Move your tongue around it just like that.”

“Feel how deep I am in you, feel it, touch it.

“Is it alright if I start moving it? Well, perhaps it’d be good to ask myself that too because I’m feeling so overwhelmed right now.”

“Mon amour, tell me how you like it, tell me what you want, I’ll do it all for you.”

“I’ve been thinking all day of being inside you.”

“Your boobs pull my hands like magnets. Let them be the hill I die on.”

“I’m restraining my moans cause I know you’ll make fun of me later. However, I can’t help but whimper under your touch.”

“I’ll fuck you like the very first day. You remember what position you were in, don’t you? Then, be a good girl and bend over for me.”

Law

“You don’t have to put all the pressure on yourself. I’m here so relax.”

“How come you’re so confident and so shy at them same time? That’s adorable.”

“Go out with me, I promise I’ll make you the happiest woman in all the seas!”

“I could never foresee experiencing this feeling. Is this what it feels like to fall in love? Do you…do you feel it too?”

“I’ve done many mistakes in my life but you are not one.”

“I found you, someone I want to protect and risk my life for. How can I gather the strength to let go of your hand now?”

“I’m not blushing! It’s not blush it’s just the freaking sun!”

“Look, it’s hard talking about feelings ok? I need a moment to think how to not completely crumble when I gaze at your eyes.”

“How can someone so precious like you exist?”

“Your soul radiates a light so strong that it pushes off all my senses. Can I touch you?”

“I trust you. Please come back safely.”

“Allies? You specify our relationship as allies? That’s it?!

NSFW

“That’s why you were waiting for me on the deck, so you could get dicked down tonight?”

“I’ll touch you only if you use that pretty mouth of yours to beg. Come on sweetheart, don’t be mad at me, I’ve spoiled you way to much.”

“While I’m at it, start thinking of other places you want to be fucked at. The night is long, beautiful.”

“Look at me. Yes, with that satisfaction in your eyes. Take my fingers in your mouth and don’t be loud. Surely you don’t want your crew to see you in such position, yes?”

“Fuck, where did you learn to suck like that?”

“You can’t see them but there are marks in your ass from all the slapping. Only you would be crazy enough to tattoo them.”

“Driving me crazy here, you’re riding me like there’s no tomorrow. Please, don’t stop.”

“You’re so rough… I love it…I love you.”

[studioghibelli]

the old man and the sea- a joel miller x reader fic

summary: grief is a sacred thing, a nasty thing, a sensual thing. it grips you from the inside until there's nothing left but a void of darkness- a void that can never be filled. joel miller knows this fact very well, and all he wants to do is save you.

warnings: girthed up age gap (college age!reader x 50’s age joel), i’m exploring a new type of writing ok let me COOK!!!! idk i am delusional, reader has hair that at least reaches her neck, cigarette use, this whole thing is basically an allegory for grief and growing but there also a lot of sexy smut soooo yeah. (mentions of death and two brief mentions of suicide, but nothing too detailed.) that being said, smut (f receiving oral sex, soft kissy missionary sex, unprotected piv sex, some 'dirty' talk, etc.)

note: this has NOT been proofread or edited. any mistakes are mine. i just hate going back and editing lmao. enjoy! xx

In the august days of your youth, when the rocky line of the coast line glimmered beneath the flame of the sun, when the foamy waves would pool by your sandy feet, you could remember the towering lighthouse just south of the beach, the way it stood tall and proud, like the statues of Roman soldiers you knew from your school encyclopedias. It was vibrant and alive, no more dead than the clams bubbling beneath the surface of the ocean, no more dead than the bellowing of the whales far off the shore.

You remember how it would speak to you, late at night when you would walk alone, hoping to catch the light reflecting off the tail of a pretty mermaid, hoping that the local legends of talking fish would come poke their heads above the water, speaking to you in riddles from days gone by.

You remember the words of the light which shone strong from above, circling above your head , like the passing lights of a traveling carnival, your eyes caught like a moth roaming towards the flames, lost in the eternal beauty of its golden light.

Come to me, child. Let the lighthouse unburden your pain.

But back then, when you were quick to scare despite your steadfast stubbornness, you never garnered enough courage to explore behind its walls.

Now college had passed, and you moved back home to your parent's rickety beach house, alone behind her comforting wooden exterior. This home. This home that was once so full of life. This home that held warm laughter and late night board games. This home that housed your closest friends and their secrets of crushes and undeciphered dreams. This home where you grew into a young woman full of life and beauty, clever and brilliant.

This home that was now empty.

You had got the call the week after finals.

We're so sorry, they went out fishing and a storm came. We never found them.

Oh, yes.

Adventure pumped through your veins, the taste for freedom like salty water on your tongue. You knew where you got it from, you always had. Your sweet family, your loving parents. Full of life like that lighthouse, full of of love like the sun.

Now they were nothing, and this house was nothing. Those years of laughter and secrets and adventure were nothing.

Nothing.

Your favorite word these days.

Going through belongings and shuffling through old books had taken almost a weeks worth of tears. Hot, tepid, angry tears.

How dare they leave you alone? How dare they forsake you like this?

The thought of crashing water and striking lightning was almost too much to bare.

When the storm had rolled in that morning, you had been tucked away in the alcove of your kitchen, nursing a steaming mug that was more cream than coffee. You watched the droplets of rain paint pictures on the window, you watched nature wring her tears across the fluttering branches of trees, cracking soft splashes across the pavement with each gust of air. Your chest felt heavy with thoughts of them.

Mom and dad.

Mamma and papa.

Perhaps it was in hopes you would feel some comfort, perhaps it was in hopes you would feel whole. If you could just stare out at the ocean that took them, maybe they would speak to you. Maybe those fairytale fish would poke their heads up from the water and exclaim to you how happy your parents were, how they were fitting right in, how they had invited Mrs. Dolphin over for tea last Saturday, and how they were finally warming up to the funny shark that always lurked in the seaweed.

You stood barefoot on the cragged rock, staring out at the roaring waves, with nothing but the lull of distant seagulls and the song of incoming thunder.

No fish. No parents. No Mrs. Dolphin. Just another season of storms and a crater in your heart.

Your throat was raw from all the screaming. You danced to your fight song as you let the rain take you, your clothes felt like skin from how soaked through they were. Heavy drapes of fabric that cemented you in place on that cragged rock. That cragged rock that dripped with the blood of your raw heels, your toes scraped and ruined from the sandy surface.

It was dark by the time the storm rolled out, dark by the time your back found the safety of the sand, dark by the time your hair clung to your neck and became tangled up with the seashells.

There was a glowing orb of light far off in the distance that you could just make out through the hazy fog of your eyelashes, and you realized it was growing closer, the old handle of a lantern creaking through the night.

"Hello?" The voice was rough and unknown to your ears, yet held a certain warmth despite the weariness.

"Yes?" You asked softly, refusing to open your eyes. If you opened your eyes, all of this was real, all of this was raw, all of this was right there.

"Are you.... okay?"

"Yes."

The lantern creaked once more, and you heard the shuffle of fabric as the man leaned forward, pressing his knuckles to your cheek. "You're colder than a reindeer's antlers, girl." His touch was warm, his hand a welcome solace from the rain. "You live around here?"

You didn't want to go back to that house. You didn't want to smell their detergent or see their old clothes. You didn't want to waltz through that kitchen or hear the creak of those old stairs.

Perhaps it was from the way your lip quivered, from the rain or from the cold, perhaps it was from the defeat in your voice, or the weightlessness of your soul, but the man before you knew he had to do something about it. How could he not? You were laying there like a pile of unfolded laundry, and no one else was around to fold it all.

You felt an arm slip behind your back.

"C'mon, stand up with me. On three."

You groaned softly, using a thick arm as leverage as the mystery man helped you stand off the ground. When you opened your eyes, you saw a pair of umber orbs staring at you, tracing over your face, every line, scar, freckle, dent, he was soaking you in like a sponge, as though he wanted to know your face just from memory.

"I'm Joel."

Joel.

He was handsome, that was the first thing you noticed about him. You felt your stomach churn at the feeling, angry you could find him so beautiful, despite the darkness which shrouded over you. Joel was broad and rugged, no doubt rough around the edges. He was adorned with various scars and random freckles, with thick eyebrows and broad shoulders, plush lips and kind eyes- hardened by time, no doubt, but beautiful all the same.

You know you mumbled your name out somewhere along the walk, eyes cloudy with tears. It was a miracle you managed to speak anything at all.

As you neared the lighthouse, you realized just how foreboding it truly was. Its paint was cracking, yet its foundation remained firm, and it towered up into the clouds like a Medieval castle. Behind it's white structure you saw a small cabin, warm light seeping through the misty windows, painting the green grass with splatters of sunshine.

When Joel opened the door, an old dog sitting in front of the fireplace lifted his head, the soft thump of a tail beating against the wooden floors. His fur was gray and his eyes were old, his long fur a mixture of brown, black, and white patches. Like a makeshift quilt.

Quilts. Your mother used to make those.

"That's Moby." Joel explained, setting a kettle on the old gas stove. "Sit down. You're trailing blood." You felt embarrassment creep up your neck, and he must have noticed the way your eyes darted with shame. "No, no. I didn't mean it like that. Let me fix up your cuts. I-.... I wasn't trying to be a dick." He spoke like this was his first time having human interaction in a decade, and by the way he moved, you might have been right.

He fumbled through drawers and cabinets, eventually finding a metal first aid kit that had begun resting at the edges years ago. Joel pulled up a dining room chair in front of you with a loud screech, peering up at you as he shuffled through the remnants of the kit.

"What were you doing out there?" He asked, gently grabbing your ankle. He guided it to his lap, inspecting the raw flesh of your soles.

"Exploring."

"Exploring what?"

"Myself."

You felt his shoulders jerk with a bit of a laugh. Normally, you would not have gone home with a stranger. Normally, you would not have let a random man place your legs on his lap or nurse you up.

But then again, nothing was normal anymore. Normal was home. Normal was family. Normal was homecooked meals and late night board games and sleepovers and secrets and.... well, none of this.

The hot stream of tears threatened the dam that rest just above your waterline. Joel noticed, but he didn't say anything.

His calloused thumb rested on the side of your foot, the sting of alcohol soaked pads causing you to wince.

"I know." He muttered through an unlit cigarette which dangled from his mouth, the lines of his forehead prominent with each movement he made. "There we go. Right one's done. Let me see the left."

You obeyed wordlessly, gently propping it up onto his thigh. He repeated his previous work until that foot was cleaned and patched.

Joel stared at you. The tea kettle behind him was whistling for attention, its top sputtering from the roaring boil of water.

"Earl gray or green?" He asked as he rummaged for two cups, blowing the dust off of one. You watched Joel stare at one of the cups for a beat too long.

"Earl gray." You croaked, blinking hard. You felt wetness by your hand. When you looked down, the black nose of a dog was pressing into your palm. Your fingers found his fur, rubbing that spot right behind his ear that made his back leg go crazy. Who couldn't smile at that?

Moby laid down, his fur a puddle at the base of your chair as he rested his snout atop your foot. You stared at him, welcoming the softness of his body against yours.

"Moby is a sweet dog. He's old. Rarely gets up from that bed." Joel explained, handing you a cup. The words World's Best Dad were fading at the sides. This cup must have been older than you.

"I like him." You let the liquid glide down your throat with each sip, savoring the warmth it provided you. At the first sign of a shiver, Joel had wrapped a blanket around your shoulders.

"Why are you being so kind to me? You don't even know me."

Joel sat back down across from you with a soft groan, the ache in his bones creaking like an old, rusting elevator shaft. "I do know you."

"Have we met before?" Your eyebrow raised with interest, and you looked at him wearily, trying to deduce what he was up to.

"No. But I know what grieving looks like." There was a long pause before Joel decided to speak again. "Were you trying to kill yourself?"

"What? No!" You guffawed, neck snapping up to shoot him a scowl. "Of course not."

"Look. If you walked up on a half dead, soaking wet person on the shore, during the aftermath of a storm, you'd be thinking the same thing." He defended himself sternly, setting his cup down.

There was a thick moment of quietness.

"Those were your parents, weren't they?" His voice was barely a whisper. It floated through the air like smoke off a candle, hitting you in the face.

"Yes."

"It was all over the news. Loads of us went out there, tried to find them."

"They're out there somewhere. Fish food." Your voice was bitter.

Joel didn't say anything. He just sat and stared. You stared back.

It became a ritual after that night. You were over there every evening, usually with a paper bag full of groceries and treats for Moby. You taught Joel how to make Paprikash and Japchae, you taught Moby how to fist bump with his nose (old dogs can learn new tricks), and you taught yourself how to laugh again.

Laughing. Such an odd thing to do in the aftermath of grief. Such a weird feeling to allow ones self to feel after weeks of chaos.

And Joel, he had his uses too.

Joel taught you how to do a fishtail braid, he taught you how to use a fly rod, and what the inside of a lighthouse looks like. Joel taught you how to smile again, he taught you what the feeling of freedom felt like once more.

Summer faded into autumn, and the orange and yellow trees began to paint the prettiest of pictures on the canvas of the coast. It held a certain nostalgia that summer had always failed to do for you, and the promise of apple cider and pumpkin scented candles floated through with every passing day.

It had taken some convincing, but Joel had swayed in to your demands, and you both sat at a tiny table in a tiny cafe, the steaming pumpkin latte swirling between his hands.

"So?"

He stared at it for a moment before meeting your gaze. "It's.... not half bad."

"Well, well, well. Looks like I was right. I knew you'd like it." You smiled through your victory, drinking your own iced coffee.

"I haven't been here in years." Joel explained, looking around at the decorations. Local art, framed photographs, and signed albums adorned the exposed brick walls, the glowing salt lamps on each table bathing the air with warm, orange light.

"You've been here before?" This coffee shop was old, you knew that much, but even when you were younger and frequented its counter with your high school friends, you can't remember ever seeing him here. And this was a small town- you knew you would have remembered his face, despite the wrinkles and grays. He still would have been Joel.

"Over two decades ago. Sarah loved this place."

"Sarah?"

His upper lip twitched at the sound of her name. Joel looked at you with heavy eyes, glossed over with the mark of grief. The kind of grief that settles in to your body as though it's its home, the kind of grief that sits beside you on the couch and never leaves. The kind of grief you were learning to grow beside.

"My daughter."

The air hung above your heads like a rainy cloud, thick and desultory. It fell across your shoulders like a fur coat, and you struggled to shake it all away.

"I didn't know that you..." Words were useless. They always were when it came to matters like this.

Joel drank his coffee in silence, tracing the ridges of the wooden table out with his eyes. "Don't like talking about her."

"We don't have to."

"Yes, we do." His voice was stern as he looked up at you, your gaze connecting. Joel's eyes were far away, searching for something in the recesses of his memory, or perhaps gaining the courage to speak to you.

"I've been alone for over twenty years." His voice was softer than you had ever remembered it being. "And then.... you were there. Just there. Laid out on the shore like a beached mermaid, shivering in the moonlight. I didn't know you... but I knew you. You were me in that moment. I had been you."

Your lips were pressed into a tight, thin line, and you watched as he spoke. There was a subtle shake to Joel's hands as he picked at his thumb nail, a tick you had picked up on the first week you had known him. The bouncing of his knee vibrated through the table.

"I know what grief is. I know the stain it leaves on someone's face. It was all over you.. just-just dripping."

You hadn't noticed the tears welling in your eyes.

Joel reached over, his palm engulfing your cold hand like a blanket, warming your skin up with his touch. He laced your fingers tight in to his own, cradling your palms close between his two hands.

"I know what all this does to a person. How it rots, how.... how it erodes. I knew I needed to help you."

"What's why you took me back to your house."

"Yes. That's why I bandaged you up, that why I made you tea, that's why I let you keep coming back. Because I wanted to help you, because I lov-"

"Are we doing okay over here?" A barista walked up with a smile, a tray in hand. "I'm just going to take these empty cups away! It's such a beautiful day outside."

You managed to shoot her a smile.

As she walked away, Joel continued staring at you, and there was a sense of something..... else in his eyes.

"Lets go back home? To- well, uh, to my home."

You nodded silently, letting go of his hands as you both walked out the door.

There was something unspoken between Joel and you, and it had settled between the two of you over the months. You knew that he knew, and Joel knew that you knew, yet it was never brought up, it was never allowed to spoken out loud. If it was spoken out loud, then it became real, and if it became real, then it would end up being a burden. Or a promise. Or a nightmare. Or a dream. Or a beautiful, welcoming, loving thing that lasted until the day you died.

How terrifying was that?

You don't know when you had started holding Joel's hand, but the walk back to the lighthouse was quiet and chilly.

Because I lo-

His words echoed through your skull with every single step you took along the cobbled path.

Lo, lo, lo, lo. Love? Loathe? Long? Look?

Your chest compressed against itself as your thoughts wandered. You must have been squeezing Joel's hand too hard, or your nails must have been digging into his skin too deeply, because he stopped and looked at you.

"Are you okay?" He asked quietly.

"I- um. Huh?"

"You're practically making me bleed with those nails of yours. Are you okay? Thinking about something?"

"Oh, I'm sorry." You muttered sheepishly, gently recoiling your hand away. Joel stopped you, placing it back in the grasp of his own. "I just... what were you going to say to me?"

"Hmm? Say to you?"

"Back at the coffee shop?"

"Oh." Joel shuffled his weight between both of his feet, his eyes shifting to meet yours. His warm, gentle, dark eyes. Those honeyed orbs of warmth that you had grown to love so deeply. Love? Oh, yes. You were certain it was love.

What part of Joel Miller didn't you love? He had rescued you from much more than that shore on that fateful night. Fate. Hell of a thing, that.

Joel squeezed his eyes shut. It was like ripping off a band-aid. When he spoke, he opened them once more, allowing his words to drip off his tongue. They were soft, gentle, they swayed through the tresses of your hair like a breeze through a field of flowers.

"I love you."

And there it was.

Time must have stopped. Your ears rang with silence, the weight of the universe funneling and funneling, closer and closer to your head until there was nothing. No noise. No air. No nothing.

Joel stared at you with a blank expression on his face, as though he couldn't believe what he had just said.

"I shouldn't have... that was- I'm sorry."

You took a step towards him, his hand was still wrapped around your own. You felt the subtle sheen of sweat on his palm, you tasted the tang of metal on your tongue from biting your cheek too hard, too deep, too long.

You knew it as sure as the sun rose in the east, you knew it with every vein in your body, with every hair on your head. You loved him, too.

Oh you did, didn't you? What a fool you were for him. If he told you to jump, you would jump. If he told you to run away with him, you would ask where. Joel Miller had bewitched you, every ounce of you, and you couldn't bare the thought of leaving him, or forgetting him, or even worse- never meeting him.

Some brave rush of courage overtook you, and before you could think you had grabbed his face in your hands and pressed your mouth into his own, nearly knocking him off his feet with the force of your movement. Joel's hands instinctively grabbed your waist, and his back found the support of a stop sign. The tips of his fingers gently dug into your waist, and he held you close and tight to his chest. You could feel the beating of his heart against his torso, pumping and pumping and pumping its vibrations into your own chest, ricocheting through your body as you tasted him on your tongue.

You pulled away only when your cheeks ached, burying your face in to his chest, allowing the smell of Joel to overcome you. He always smelled like the sea air and cotton, sweet and nostalgic against your nose.

"Lets get home." He whispered in your ear.

Home. He hadn't corrected himself. Home.

Joel's fingers refused to leave yours, locked tight as you made it to his house. Moby greeted you with a kiss to the knee, waddling back to his bed with a heavy huff of air. You gave him the bone you always picked up for him on the way there, before turning around to see Joel in the kitchen, a cigarette in his mouth.

"Want one?" He asked as he brought the lighter to his mouth. You walked towards him, nodding. He took the item out of his mouth, before placing it between your own two lips.

Joel watched the way you took the cigarette, the way your glossy lips looked against the white sheen of paper.

"You're so damn beautiful. God, I just..." Joel shook his head as he kept his thoughts to himself, lighting another smoke before tossing the half empty pack on to the table.

"You just what?" Your voice echoed through the bellow of smoke, and you leaned against the counter, challenging him with your words.

"I just... got so many things I want to do to you."

You smiled, alluring eyes beaming up at him as you puffed and exhaled, slowly putting out the embers on the clay ashtray you had bought him months ago. "Like what?" Your words were teasing.

Joel watched you step towards him, and his chest rose and fell underneath the unlit kitchen light. He took in a deep breath of tobacco before flicking it in to the metal sink.

He'd deal with that later.

"How 'bout I just show you, baby?"

Your lip caught between your teeth as you nodded.

Joel had never moved so fast in his life, whisking you off to his room with a loud bang of his door. He had you nearly naked and on his bed in record time, his knee resting between your legs as he kissed you, the hair of his moustache tickling your nose.

He allowed you to grind yourself down on his leg, soft moans flooding in to his mouth as his tongue explored your own, tangling and dancing with one another as his fingers worked the back of your bra. Joel threw the material across the room, your breasts pressing in to his chest, nipples hard and tantalizing.

That was the first time Joel had pulled away. He left a trail of wet kisses down to your nipples, his lips wrapping around the stiff bud. You watched him suckle at your flesh, shivers causing the hair on your arms to stand up. His curls became tangled with your fingers, a leg resting on his shoulder as he adjusted himself, sucking and licking at your tits as though he were starved.

Your sweet melody of arousal was like music to Joel, who finally gathered the strength to pull away from your chest and move down between your legs, his mouth planting a flurry of pecks to your stomach. He hooked your panties in his fingers and tugged them off, large hands resting on your thigh as he spread them.

Joel stared at your pussy, now open and bare for his eyes. It glistened with arousal, the soft pink of your flesh causing his mouth to water.

"Jesus." He breathed out slowly, eyes darting up to your gaze. "You were made just for me, weren't you?"

You felt your cheeks heat up. You were. Oh, God, you were!

His free hand snaked up to yours, and you held it tightly, nervously. His hand was your anchor, tethering you to the ocean floor of his bedroom.

Joel leaned forward, his tongue pressing flat against your clit. You whimpered out once. He sucked it in between his lips. You whimpered out twice. He worked your aching bud until you were singing a song composed just for him, pants of hot, heavy air swirling through the four walls of his room.

He was devouring you. You were his Eucharist and your pussy was his prayer. Joel worked you in ways you had never been worked before, licking and sucking your pussy with the fervor that could only ever be found in a religion. You were his religion. His idol. His worship. His solace.

Oh, solace. What a sweet, sweet thing when it was found in you.

Joel's chin was quickly soaked in your sweet wetness. He would have drowned in you if you had let him.

His tongue pushed deep in to your folds, exploring your most precious pf places, tasting every inch of you like a starved man, like a frenzied man, like a mad man.

You were his. He was yours.

Your hips were bucking, your body like a wild animal caught in a trap. Except you weren't in a trap. You were in his arms. His strong, thick, heavy arms, and ecstasy was overtaking you. His tongue was coaxing you towards an explosive orgasm, the likes of which had never been known to you. Not one so intense. Not one at the hands of a man who loved you.

Joel's grip tightened around your own, his lips sucking at your clit, tongue tapping and swirling, licking and lapping.

You could barely get any warning out before your orgasm rushed through you, thighs shaking with earthquakes of pleasure. Your fingers tugged at his hair, holding his head tight in place. Joel licked you through the height of your euphoria, sucking softly at your bud before you could barely take it anymore, before you had to gently push his head away.

"Joel." You whispered, staring at the ceiling as the white hot heat of your climax rushed over you. "Joel." You spoke it like a mantra. His name was a promise to you.

"Baby?" He climbed over you, weight supported by his elbows, and allowed the tip of his nose to gently brush over yours.

"Take me." You whispered, the palms of your hand moving to his cheeks. They were warm, and you could smell your pussy on his facial hair. You leaned forwards, kissing him, tasting your cum and his spit. A moan tumbled out of your mouth, straight through your teeth.

"Make me yours. Fuck me." You begged, although Joel didn't need any begging.

"Anything for you."

His boxers were off in the blink of an eye, and you glanced down at his cock. Tanned, slightly curved, hanging low and heavy, the mushroom tip gleaming with pre-cum. Your mouth was watering at the site, but his grasp on your chin moved your line of sight to his face.

Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, and a soft gasp escaped you at the feeling of the tip of his cock pressing against your folds. He grinded against you, his shaft rubbing up and down the folds of your pussy, jolts of electricity causing you to shiver each time he brushed your clit.

Joel was teasing you. He was making you in to a mess. A mess all for him.

His eyes never left yours. Joel watched you lovingly, noses pressed tight, lips brushing past the others. You were as close as two people could possibly be, and you were unsure where his skin ended and yours began. Stray curls of his hair tickled your forehead, and your chests rose and fell in unison.

"I love you." His breath was hot against your face.

"I love you too-" He pushed his length in as you spoke, stretching out the lips of your pussy, hitting deeper than anything had before. You moaned out a wanton noise you had never heard before, nails gently digging in to his shoulders.

Joel sat there for a moment, heavy eyelids half closed. He was soaking you in, literally, allowing himself to relish in the feeling of being inside of you. Of being one with you.

He had not afforded himself many of life's pleasures. Not after Sarah had died. Not after he had let himself go. He had paced the same shore as you many moons ago, gun in hand, trying to urge himself to just put the barrel in his mouth and pull the trigger. It sounded so easy.

But something had stopped him. Something hadn't let him.

He had wondered, many years after that, why he hadn't done it. He had wondered what could possibly be worth living.

And then he saw you.

In that very same spot, rotting beneath the silver light of the moon.

It was you. Everything had been for you, hadn't it?

And now there you were, beneath him, as pretty as a picture, the embodiment of everything he had ever yearned for, everything he had ever dreamed for. You were everything to Joel, and he was everything to you.

And now there he was, deep inside of you. You were all he could feel, all he could smell, all he could see. You, you, you. The most beautiful thing he had ever saw, the most wonderful thing he could have ever waited for.

The shiver of your body brought him back down to reality. He kissed you deeply, and all you could do was smile against his mouth.

Lucky. That is what you were. That is what you both were.

"You feel so good." You whispered softly, hands gently running down the back of his head, finding a resting spot on the broad stretch of his freckled back.

Joel rubbed his cheek against yours, slowly moving his hips, grinding down against you, eliciting a sweet moan out of you. "Yeah?"

You both giggled in unison, and he watched your eyes shut as he began to pump deep inside of you. The feeling of your nails pinched at his skin.

Joel glanced down, watching his cock disappear into the depths of your cunt, sloppy noises of your arousal filling the air. Your pussy lips looked so pretty wrapped around his length, your wetness looked so pretty glistening off his cock.

You were made for him, and he for you.

"Take me, Joel." You begged, and his movement increased, growing slightly rougher as his forehead met yours, lips pressing together once more.

"God, you're so beautiful. So fucking beautiful. So fucking pretty. You feel so fucking good. This pussy.... fuck. Fuck, I never want to leave it." He was rambling through his thrusts, hand reaching down to rub at your swelling clit.

"Fuck me, Joel. Fuck me." You whined out, bucking up against the touch of his fingers as he fucked you harder in to the mattress.

"You're my girl. You're my beautiful fucking girl. God, you're everything to me. You're my world." His breath was hot against your face as he kissed you, coaxing you towards another orgasm with each rub of his middle finger across your clit.

"That's a good girl. I can feel you getting closer. I can feel that pussy tightening against me."

Your back arched off the mattress as you cried out his name, moaning as his praises filled your ears. Joel rested his face in the crook of your neck, hips slapping in to your thighs as he filled you up with every inch of his length.

"That's my girl, that's it, baby. Cum for me."

You did as he said. There was no use in holding back. As your orgasm rushed through, his own was approaching. Your name tumbled off his lips, the only word he could remember, as he came deep inside your walls. His hot cum filled you to the brim with a warmth you had never experienced, and Joel kept slowly pumping as his high rushed off, as his orgasm died down.

You shivered beneath him, another kiss being planted on your mouth. Then you cheeks. Then your nose. Then anywhere else Joel could get to.

A moan tumbled off Joel's tongue as he slowly slipped out of you, falling beside you before grabbing you and pressing you in to his chest.

"Stay with me."

"I always do." You whispered in to his chest.

"No, stay with me. Permanently. This can be our home."

"Our home." You whispered quietly, nuzzling closer into his body.

"Our home." He established firmly, resting his palm on the crown of your head.

The world would always spin, and sorrow would always lurk. That was how the world worked. That was the way of the universe. When you both awoke in the morning, the pain of yesteryears would still be there. The horrible, nasty tug of old memories and distant lives would always be somewhere deep within you.

The cosmos, however, were full of possibilities. You could have stayed in your parents home and succumb to a darkness greater than yourself. Joel could have drank himself to death or tasted the metal of a bullet. Those waves could have taken you, and he could have never decided to take a walk down to that beach.

There were many what if's.

But right now you were alive with passion, eyes wide and awake with a newfound love. The bitterness had gone, and something much brighter and better was waiting for you in the future.

Beside you, Joel Miller sat puffing on a cigarette, smiling at you through dreamy eyes. The sheen of sweat was still glistening across his chest, and the gentle smirk on his lips reflected the tales of a lovesick fool.

"Ready to go again?" He asked cheekily, handing you the smoke.

You took it with a smile.

For now, grief would have to wait.

[elsprincess]

need nasty sloppy sex with ellie :(

her cock stuffed in ur hole, talking like she can feel u “s’fuckin tight mama”

and her eyes get sooo lustful n glossy watching u take every inch!! she loves u so much she’s so proud of u <3

ellie is the definition of pussydrunk. quiet whimpers when she sees u pinch ur pointy nipples n bite down on ur bottom lip as she thrusts deeper n deeper. she’ll lose her pace for a minute bc she’s so distracted by how pretty u are!!! and how wet u are for her

she’s muttering under her breath, “s’pretty baby, i’m in love with this pussy” but also through gritted teeth, “u want my load hmm? want me to fill u up yeah?”

she’ll spit on ur tummy n watch it slide down to ur sticky folds as she’s rubbing hasty circles on ur clit

her saliva mixing with ur creamy slick just makes her wanna taste u!!! so she warns “m’gonna pull out, ‘kay baby?” and she’s too eager to even care what u have to say

she slips out of u and latches her mouth to ur puffy nub, humming against ur sweetness, “taste s’good princess” her hand moves down to her strap n starts jerking it vigorously

she loves ur angelic lil moans n whines when ur about to cum <3 she laps up every last drop n eventually just falls asleep between ur legs bc. u know. pussydrunk

[faetreides]

patrick probably whines when you bounce on his cock.

cw: 18+ mdni, au of the ending where patrick wins (no infidelity btw, he and tashi never did anything), implied drug use, car sex mention, riding, afab reader, reader is naked/patrick is fully clothed, lowkey gross & nasty, breeding kink (i’m ovulating rn), unprotected p in v sex, slight degradation, unedited

You’re just so proud of your boyfriend, you can’t help but jump his bones immediately. You see Patrick running towards after his match, and you race to vault yourself into his arms. He laughs wholeheartedly and spins you around, partly happy because you seem to be so happy for him. He’s still in a state of shock, to be honest. Everything was leading up to Art cementing his place in his career, but Patrick had managed to beat him in the end. No one could believe it, Patrick’s hope had been almost completely gone by that point. But he did it, and maybe now he can leave behind the needles and scrimping pennies.

He still hasn’t processed anything, but your lips and giggles are too good to ignore. You gasp as he picks you up by gripping onto your thighs and hoisting your legs around his waist. You rock your clothed core against his abs for a second, in dire need of a little friction. Patrick makes the kiss messy, pushing more of his spit into the intense lip locking. He flicks away the string of saliva that connects your lips when he ducks back to look at you. You grin, eyes wide and cheeks blazing with heat. It’s a stupid decision, but you throw your body weight around to get Patrick to fall onto the bed with you.

“Fuck!” He shouts, darting his hands around the back of your head and digging his knees into the mattress so he doesn’t fall out. “Couldn’t have waited a little bit, are you a greedy whore all of a sudden?”

You shrug, “Maybe, but you’d like it if I was. Now come here, we have to celebrate.”

With that, you leg your legs fall open and put on your most convincing pout, beckoning your boyfriend to get a move on already. Seeing him sweat in those slutty shorts and hearing him grunt whenever he hit the ball really gets you going, something that you didn’t think was possible until you got an athlete boyfriend. It’s a competition to find out who can be the most insanely horny in the relationship at this point, and if Patrick ever got a hold of your diary, he’d agree that you win by a landslide.

Patrick latches onto your shoulders and spins to lie flat on his back with you on top of him. You adjust your position, jostling your hips until you’re positioned right over his hard bulge. You’re too busy getting lost in a flurry of clothes as you both kind of awkwardly undress on the bed, but eventually his pants are pulled down enough for his cock to spring free while you’re fully naked. You look like a porn star to him, teasingly swiveling your hips in the most seductive way possible.

He smirks and throws his arms behind his head, “I thought you were supposed to be my prize, what happened to making me feel like a winner?”

You bite you rlip, digging your nails into his pecs, “It’s not my fault you’re too keyed up to not cum immediately, savoring this is possible, you know?”

Patrick rolls his eyes and smiles, not picking a fight with you on that. Sometimes you like to get yourself worked up too, with his thick cock gliding in between your folds and mixing your juices together.

You lift your ass and throw a certain look towards him, and he tries not to be too smug as he wraps a large hand around the base of his hard cock. He holds the rigid length upright so all you have to do is hover over it and plop yourself right down on it. He doesn’t pump himself while he waits, he wanted to fuck before the match but you wouldn’t let him. You said it’d be better for him to have all this energy stored up.

You get restless and start to sink down on his cock, the stretch always takes some breath out of you but you were the one that decided to wait until now. Once he’s bottomed out, you’ve given up on teasing him until he breaks you entirely. You lift your hips until the tip of his dick catches on your hole and then slam down, starting off with a realsitically unattainable fast pace.

His fingers dig into the fat of your bouncing ass cheeks, “You’re inflating my ego too much, making me feel like a big shot getting fresh pussy in his hotel room.”

You moan, keeping eye contact as you fuck him into the mattress, “You- You are a big shot, babe. Shit- Just lie back and relax…”

The smell permeating in the room is already so pungent. Patrick’s natural musk intertwining with your own, if anyone else walked in they might faint, but to you two, you could cum from the scent of your sex by now. Being the same kind of freak in that regard brought you both so much closer if anything. You grind your pubes down against his, clenching on his dick on purpose. The friction is delicious for your clit, so you do it again.

He throws his head back, reaching up to curl one of his hands around your throat as you ride him, “Uh huh, that’s my dirty slut, so wet and tight for me.”

His words trail off into a squeaky whine as you speed up, truthfully losing stamina a bit but still determined to celebrate your boyfriend properly. You lean to press your sweaty tits right up against his own, and you whisper in his ear about this being a repeating occurrence.

“Maybe someday we’ll have a baby to put to bed first before we can do this, get them to wave at you from the stands and then pass them off to you when we’d see you after you win.” You lick the shell of his ear as you speed up, ignoring the embarrassing wet smacks of your slick ass against his hip bone. “Wouldn’t it be cute, me with a chubby baby on my hip that looks like you and another one already in my belly?”

“You’re a fuckin’ demon, i swear.” Patrick moans, giving you little whines here and there when you seem to really hit the spot. “Yeah, it’d be cute.”

What better way to celebrate than by having a baby?

He pulls you down by your neck to french kiss you, his tongue twisting around yours. The sheets are soaked by now and you don’t want to even imagine what the staff who have to clean his room will find. Random bits of fluid and the stench of sex heavy in the air, you’ll have to remember to leave some cash for a tip to ease your conscience.

You tighten your walls around him in short bursts until he’s clawing at your ass and smacking it extremely hard as he cums inside you. The stinging is a pleasant catalyst for your own orgasm soon after. You can’t wait to see how dirty you get his car seats.

[leclercdream]

maroon

this is the final part of maroon

✮⋆˙ when carlos breaks reader’s heart, lando is ready to mend it

✮⋆˙ ex carlos sainz x singer!reader | bestfriend lando norris x singer!reader | boyfriend lando norris x singer!reader

✮⋆˙ tofi talks: final part!! not very happy about this one but ive been really busy x

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f1gossip

liked by yourbestfriend, carlossainz55 and others

f1gossip: After a few weird comments on IG by Lando apparently he did score a date! YN and Lando were spotted today in Monaco having fun with some friends. As many of you have already seen they seemed pretty cozy together 😊 A mutual friend (private acc) posted the last picture on his story.

We don’t have pictures but a trusted source told as she saw them a few nights ago in a VERY expensive restaurant in Monaco.

tagged: yourusername, landonorris

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user1: this is everything i dreamed of in the last 5 years

user2: they look so happy together :(

user3: wasn’t she dating carlos like 3 months ago?

user4: slut

user5: am i the only one that finds CRAZY that she is suddenly dating lando after ending a 3 year relationship with his best friend? lol

user4: paddock bunny behavior

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yourusername just posted a story!

landonorris just posted a story!

[good riddance is all yours now]

[yourusername just released an album and it’s a masterpiece. go give it a listen. i love you]

yourusername

liked by landonorris, lilymhe, maxverstappen1, carlossainz55 and others

yourusername: thank you thank you thank you for the love on my new album!!! 🧚🏻‍♀️ i worked so hard on it and seeing your reactions, analysis, and just comments in general fills my with joy.

thank you landonorris for your support while writing good riddance, i love you 🤍

view 2739 comments

landonorris: i love being your muse!

oscarpiastri: here he goes…

landonorris: you know i think we should tell people which songs are about me

landonorris: dress, invisible string, new year’s day…yourusername: omg SHUT UP

landonorris: i love you i’m really super proud of you!

user1: lol lando

user2: i love the album so much! love the transition between songs and the story that it tells. amazing job!

yourusername: thank you!!! means a lot 🤍

user3: AOTY

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yourusername just posted a story!

[go to spotify for a surprise x]

replies:

lilymhe: you are a better person than me lilymhe: i’d be posting nasty pictures to make the psychotic girlies mad yourusername: dw babe it’s coming!!!

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yourusername

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc, kellypiquet and others

yourusername: got lovestruck

tagged: landonorris

view 2749 comments

landonorris: is best friends to lovers you favorite trope?

lilymhe: yes

landonorris: i’m so lucky to be loved by you. i love you

yourusername: mwaaaaah

alexalbon: FINALLY

oscarpiastri: peace 🤝🏻

lilymhe: i’m crying in my car rn

user1: drops an album, a surprise song and then THIS 🙏🏼

user2: god i’ve seen what you have done for others

user3: I LOVE THIS

user4: she is glowing :(

landonorris

liked by yourusername, lilyzneimer, oscarpiastri and others

landonorris: she wrote a few songs about me and now i’m stuck in a relationship with her ig

(just kidding i cried while listening to her album and had to beg on my knees for a date, you are the love of my life)

tagged: yourusername

view 7294 comments

yourusername: you can have all the love songs you want 🤍

yourusername: pookie I LOVE YOUUUU

landonorris: ill cry again stop

danielricciardo: congrats guys! finally happened 😊

maxverstappen1: Please send me a thank you gift

user1: how is this on you maxverstappen1: I told him to ask her out 😎 landonorris: yeah yeah, thank you max 🙄

user2: i thought that after she broke up with carlos we wouldnt have to see her annoying ass again 🙄

this comment was deleted by author this user was blocked by author

user3: i’m so happy for you guys 🤍

yourusername: forever isn’t so scary with you :)

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taglist: @evie-119 @landossainz@noneofyallsbusiness @ladyblablabla @likedbygaslyy @softiecaro @1655clean@willowpains @lightdragonrayne @taygrls @chezmardybum @littlehoneyfreak @awritingtree @georgiaa-x-