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strang3lov3 · 2 months

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Chevelle

Summary- (joel miller x virgin!reader) Joel figures out that you’re the one who hit his baby, his precious 1964 Chevrolet Chevelle. He needs you to make it right, but he doesn’t want your money ❤️‍🔥🍆 (5k words)

Tags- MDNI hot girls can’t drive, implied age gap, virgin!reader, we're calling him tender dark!joel, soft!dom joel, tender dubcon (power imbalance, joel solicits sex from reader, no explicit consent but reader is into it) reader has a luscious bush, Joel walks you through handjobs, blowjobs, fingering, oral, unprotected piv, creampie, come eating, loss of virginity. Joel is clothed and reader is not.

A/N- Writing this is how I spent my spring break. Hope you love it 🩵 Thank you @noxturnalpascal for all of your help editing and your encouragement.

Based on mine and @beefrobeefcal shared prompt where we asked, "What would happen if reader damaged Joel’s vehicle?” Her fic is here and it’s one of my favorite things I’ve read!! Kiki has such a beautiful voice in her writing and I love all the details she adds to her fics.

Pawn shop by @toxicanonymity came to mind when I wrote this story and was a source of inspiration. Also worth a read, I have nothing but love for Tox’s writing 🩷

It’s late when you get off your shift at Tony’s, the shitty Italian restaurant you’ve been working at for far too long. It doesn’t pay much and you’ve considered working a new job to save up and move out of your brother’s house, but you’ve been putting that idea off for a variety of reasons. One of them being Joel.

Joel’s your neighbor, a sexy, older man you’ve got a certain fondness for. His hair used to be more brown but it’s grayer now, same with the scruff on his face. He’s got sparkling, chocolatey eyes and a sharp nose set above a thick, downturned mustache. He always looks a little dirty when you see him, with dirt caked into his forehead wrinkles and grease smeared along his temple or his jaw. He’s always either fresh off a contracting job or working on his car. He’s got this cute little Chevy he spends his nights and weekends with, a 1964 Chevrolet Chevelle, baby blue.

Joel was one of the first people to welcome you to the neighborhood and even helped you move your stuff into your brother’s house, though helping you implies he let you do any work. Joel offered you a pop from his fridge and then took over entirely, putting both himself and your brother to work moving all of your stuff in. You didn’t lift a finger that day.

You can’t seem to pull your eyes from the little green glowing letters on your dash, watching letters and numbers on the screen roll on by. 12:37 A.M. 101.9. Paper Bag - Fiona Apple. You’re so out of it. You yawn and blink a couple of times, focusing back on the narrow roads of your neighborhood. It’s so poorly lit over here, and it doesn’t help that one of your headlights is out. Joel’s been bugging you to let him fix that, he says it’ll only take five minutes.

You turn onto your street and bam. You’re wide awake now. You just hit something.

You hit Joel’s car. Joel’s fucking car. What the fuck is it doing on the street? He always has it safely kept in his garage. Oh dear god, the panic is setting in. This is Joel’s baby. You just hit his baby, his pride and joy.

You can’t even bring yourself to assess the damage you’ve inflicted upon his dear Chevy. Probably dented to shit, but you don’t really wanna know. Instead, you just pull your foot off the brake, press your remote control garage door opener, then pull into your garage as you press your lips together tightly. You’re surprised and relieved to find that there’s hardly a scratch on your own car. Joel won’t know. He won’t.

The next morning, you’re sipping on your coffee as you check your mailbox. Joel’s outside his house, loading up his work truck with some tools and supplies. He waves to you and you wave back, a small stack of mail in your hand.

“Whose mail you got today, sweetheart?” he calls to you.

You check the names on some of the letters. “Davidsons’ and Pierces’,” you answer through a chuckle. Joel rolls his eyes and laughs. The incompetent mailman is a running joke amongst yourself, Joel, and your other neighbors. He never seems to deliver anything to the right address, so you and your neighbors are often hand delivering each other your misplaced mail.

You laugh with Joel until you notice his smile disappear. He’s narrowing his eyes on his Chevy. Your heart drops as he steps closer to the vehicle, then pinches his nose in frustration. Fuck. Joel stomps back to his work truck, haphazardly tosses something in the bed and then slams the tailgate. Yeah, he’s fucking pissed. Your neck and your face heat in shame as you quickly run back inside.

In the two weeks since Joel’s car was hit, he’s been working to repair it tirelessly. He’s ordered a new tail light, since whoever hit his car shattered it and he’s spent a pretty penny ordering the exact shade of baby blue paint to touch up all of the scratches. Joel only trusts himself to touch his car, but the situation necessitates that he’ll have to take it in to a local repair shop to get the dents out. Fucking fantastic.

When Joel gets off work tonight, he notices he’s got some packages on his doorstep, hoping it’s the shit he ordered for his car. He’ll open them shortly, but he first notices that one of the packages is addressed to you. Go figure, he thinks, chuckling to himself. He walks the package over to your house, noticing your car is parked outside of the driveway. And it’s backed in too, which is odd. Joel assumes your car must’ve been blocking your brother’s, so he probably played musical chairs with your cars to get his out and then backed yours up onto the driveway. You never back your own car in the driveway, and Joel’s pretty sure it’s because you don’t know how. You probably can’t parallel park, either. He’ll have to show you how to do that sometime.

What’s also new is a bit of baby blue paint on your red Honda Civic’s exterior, right by your headlight, the same headlight he’s been nagging you to let him fix. Joel bites the inside of his cheek. Interesting. He knocks on your door, package in hand, but he’s met with no answer. No biggie. He leaves the package on your porch and goes back to your car, inspecting the paint once more. He scoffs in astonishment and walks home. Unbelievable.

The next evening, you check your mailbox after forgetting to do so earlier. As always, you never have just your own mail. This time you’ve got Joel’s. You walk it over to Joel’s house with the intention of dropping it off on his porch and going back home, not wanting to bother him as he works on his Chevy but his whistle startles you. “Hey you,” he says. “C’mere.”

“O-oh,” you stutter. “I’m just dropping off your–”

“Yeah, I know. Just c’mere a minute,” Joel says. “Got a fuckin’ bone t’pick with you.”

Your palms are beginning to sweat. He doesn’t know anything. Maybe he just wants some company while he works on his car, it wouldn’t be the first time. But still, there’s something about his tone. You step off of his porch and cut through his lawn to get to his garage. Once inside, you help yourself to a root beer from his refrigerator. Something cold and fizzy and sweet to help you calm your nerves.“Oh, sure, help yourself,” Joel mumbles. He notices your fingers slipping off the tab of the pop can and pulls it from your hands, then opens it for you. He’s wearing a stained Prince and the Revolution t-shirt and a slightly too tight pair of jeans that squeeze his ass just so. His garage is decorated with old license plates, posters, other odds and ends.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

Joel says nothing as he walks to his work bench. He pulls a lightbulb out of a cardboard box and waves it in your direction, he’s only a couple of feet from you. “Ordered the wrong bulb,” he tells you.

You can only nod. You think about maybe making a joke about the mailman screwing it up somehow, but you bite your tongue. You don’t trust yourself not to stutter right now.

“M’sure you saw, my baby here’s all banged up,” Joel puts the bulb back in the box and leans against his work bench, facing you. “Happened a couple weeks ago.”

“Mm,” you hum.

“Hit and run, can you believe that?”

“No, I can’t. That-that’s terrible.”

“I know it is. And here I thought we had a nice neighborhood…” he trails off before speaking again, “You think you know someone, huh.”

Someone. So he has someone in mind? “Yeah, it’s terrible…what happened to your car. Can’t believe someone would uh…would do that, knowing how you, your car…yeah. Terrible.”

Joel stares at you for a minute before speaking again, taking note of how you can’t seem to hold eye contact with him. He steps closer to you.

“You wouldn’t know a thing about it, right?”

“Yes,” you answer, quickly realizing your word mishap when Joel raises his eyebrows. “No, yeah. I don’t know–yeah, nothing,” you sip your root beer before fidgeting with the pop tab and shifting your weight from one foot to the other.

Joel notices. “Squirmin’ an awful lot over there, sweetheart. You got something you wanna tell me?” You shake your head, still playing with the tab on the pop can. Joel removes it from your hand, his fingers gracing over yours before placing it on the workbench. He’s moving closer to you now, matching your pace as you walk backward until the back of your legs hit his car. You gasp, he stands so tall and imposing in front of you. “Easy,” he warns. “You be careful with her.”

“Yeah, I know. Always,” you reply. Your voice is beginning to shake.

Joel hums at your response. “Not always, though, sweetheart. Think you were pretty careless with my baby a couple weeks ago.”

The familiar pressure behind your eyes is beginning to build as tears are pricking your waterline, “I don’t know what–”

“Awh, don’t do that. Don’t lie t’me.”

The tears spill over. You’re caught. You don’t know how Joel figured out what you did, but he did. “You’ve got a guilty conscience, dontcha?”

You nod before you can speak. “I’m so sorry,” you cry. Sobs begin to wrack your body, your tears now flowing freely. You’re so guilty. You should’ve told Joel what happened that night. It was an accident, and he might’ve been mad, but you’ve probably made it worse for yourself with your dishonesty. “I’m so sorry, Joel, it was late and I was so tired–”

Joel pulls you in a tight embrace, stroking your back with his fingertips. “Shhh, I know. I know,” he whispers in your ear, “S’okay, sweet girl.”

“It was so…” you try to explain, choking on your sobs and your sniffles. “So late and d-dark and I wasn’t paying attention.”

“I know. Quit your cryin’, s’gonna be fine,” Joel whispers. He pulls away from you, looking at you with those deep brown eyes of his as he wipes the tears from your face with his thumbs. Know you’ll make it up to me.”

“I will,” you agree quickly. “I’ll pick up some more shifts, Joel, and I’ll save and–”

“Oh, no. Not that. Save your money,” he tells you earnestly. “Somethin’ else,” Your eyes follow Joel when he leaves you for a moment to flip a switch on the wall of his garage. Something in the air changes then, a thick, heavy feeling between you both when he makes his way back to you. “Use your head, sweetheart. How are we gonna make it right?”

Your mouth is dry, your tongue swollen as you pick up what Joel’s putting down. “Let me give ya a hint,” Joel grunts, sucking in his gut slightly as he unbuttons his jeans. He wears no underwear, a thatch of coarse hair littering his skin is what you see when he pulls down his zipper. He grips your wrist and shoves your hand beneath the denim where you feel his package, already half hard. It’s warmer, thicker than you would expect. He feels heavy in your palm, his pubic hair wiry and scratchy against your knuckles.

He doesn’t tilt his head in confusion at your hesitancy. “Don’t know what to do with all this, do ya?”

You shake your head no. “I’ve never…with anyone, before.”

“S’alright. I’ll walk ya through it all,” Joel says, seemingly unsurprised at the revelation. With your hand still on his cock, Joel pulls himself out of his jeans entirely. He’s harder now. “Like this,” he instructs, bringing your hand to his mouth and spitting in it. A pang of arousal fills your gut at the action. He pushes your hand lower and guides you to wrap your hand around his cock. It feels heavy, warm to the touch, sticky with his sweat and his saliva. Rock hard, but smooth like satin. You admire him, his blushed tip, the prominent veins on his shaft.

Your breath hitches as Joel takes control, using his strong, weathered hand to guide your own to massage his cock. “You got it,” he encourages, sensing your rigidity. “Tighter,” he instructs, squeezing his hand around yours. You’re slow to gain confidence but he’s patient, doing the work himself for now. “You move your hand all the way up, all the way down my cock,” he tells you.

You nod in understanding. Joel drops his hand but yours stays stroking his member. He sighs and tilts his head backward as you focus on the task at hand. Without the pressure of intense eye contact, you take the opportunity to admire him, the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, the small drops of sweat rolling down his throat. You’re shy when he smiles at you, quickly averting your attention from him and to his cock, watching the way it twitches beneath your hand, where a little bead of precum forms. Experimentally, you swipe your thumb over the tip. “That’s it,” he whispers, stroking your cheek with the back of his hand. He ruts his hips into your hips, “Doin’ just fine.”

You stroke his cock like this for a while, gaining confidence in yourself until he stops you suddenly.

“Is that it?”

“Is that it,” Joel mocks with a feigned pout. “No, hon. You banged up my baby pretty good. We ain’t quite square yet.”

His leaking cock bounces against his tummy as he approaches his work bench. Your heart pounds as you can’t quite see what he’s reaching for. “Know it’s new to ya,” he says. “Just listen to me, s’all you gotta do.”

Joel returns to you with a dirty rag in his hand and lays it on the concrete ground, then reaches for your face. He pulls your bottom lip down and lets it go to watch it bounce back up. “Knees,” he whispers, gently pushing you by your shoulders to the ground. The rag he laid on the concrete for your knees is a sweet touch, all things considered. His cock is inches away from your face as he holds it between his thumb, middle, and forefingers. He presses himself to your lips, encouraging you to open your mouth. “Give it a taste,” he instructs you. “An’ you can kiss it too, if you’re feelin’ amorous.”

You part your lips and tentatively lick the weeping slit of his thick head just once. After a moment, taking in the saltiness of his precome, you lick him a couple more times, gaining confidence quicker than you did using just your spit soaked hand on him. Bigger stripes now, using more pressure. Like Joel advised, you kiss his cock a couple times, each kiss sloppier than the last before swirling your tongue around the tip. You’re learning it all, the softness of his skin, his musky, heady taste.

“Give me your hand,” Joel says. “Goes right here,” He wraps your hand around the base of his cock, same as before. He places one of his hands on your head, guiding you closer to him, encouraging you to take him deeper now. You do as such, sputtering and choking when you get overzealous and take him too quickly.

Joel chuckles, “Not all at once, sweetheart. Go slow. Try it again.” This time, Joel controls the pace at which you take him. He pushes himself into your mouth and senses when it becomes too much, pauses for you. He pulls his hips back, then rocks back into your mouth, building a slow, shallow pace for you to get used to.

He’s pushing his cock deeper into your mouth. His tip teases the back of your throat as he whispers, “Little more. Be brave,” You gaze up at him, searching his eyes for some sort of approval. He nods with his brows furrowed. “Do it for me, hon.”

You allow him to fuck himself deeper in your mouth now, your eyes pricking with tears as you gag and sputter on his cock. This time, Joel doesn’t stop himself. He’s grunting, groaning, savoring the warmth of your wet, soft mouth. “So good,” he tells you before tapping your hand, reminding you to put it to use.

What you can’t reach with your mouth, you massage with your hand as you cup his balls with your other. You and Joel work in tandem, him drawing in and out of your mouth as you bob your head and flick your tongue against his shaft. Your jaw is sore with the newness of it all, and just as you’re becoming used to the thickness of his cock between your lips and on your tongue, he pauses. “M’gonna stop you now,” Joel mumbles as he pulls out of your mouth, his eyes focused on your swollen lips and how the string of saliva connected from them to his cock breaks. “S’your turn.”

“My turn?”

“Mhm. It’s etiquette, hon,” Joel says with a grunt, lifting you to your feet. He reaches between your bodies and unbuttons your pants, pushing both them and your underwear down your legs. “Always return the favor.” Joel lifts you slightly, sitting your bare ass on the hood of his car, then pulls your pants off your legs the rest of the way. “Arms up,” he tells you. He lifts your shirt off of your body, unhooks your bra and lets it fall to your lap. You’ve never been so vulnerable, so exposed in front of someone before. Instinctively, you cover your chest with your arms and cross your legs.

“You’re shy,” he whispers. Joel drapes your clothing over his shoulder before reaching for your arms, removing them from your chest and placing them on either side of your body. “Stay like this,” He holds your knees next, uncrossing your legs and spreading them wide for his view.

Joel takes in your body and admires your wet cunt, how your thick curls frame it beautifully. A shiver goes down your spine as his eyes scan the rest of your body before he holds intense eye contact with you as he folds your clothes, placing them in a neat pile next to you on his car. You watch his chest rise and fall with steady breaths as he drops to his knees, situating himself between your thighs.

He presses a sloppy kiss against your inner knee, then another on your other leg. He kisses his way up your inner thigh, nipping at your flesh and soothing the marks with his tongue. He holds your legs firmly apart, knowing your instinct is to shut them when he reaches your cunt, his hot breath fanning over your center. “Wider,” he whispers, “I gotcha.”

The once cool metal of Joel’s car is now hot and slick under your sweaty, trembling palms. Your pulse beats as you look up at the garage ceiling, lacking the courage to look at Joel between your thighs. “Relax for me,” he tells you. You try.

You gasp when he finally begins exploring you, first his thumb parting open your folds. Adding a couple more digits, he hums in satisfaction as he finds you’re already wet, your slick glistening on his fingers. He dips one of those fingers inside of you slowly, watching how you react to his touch. You twitch and fight to keep yourself still and silent as he adds a second finger, curling it rhythmically and stroking that sweet spot inside you.

“Oh, god,” you moan as he dives into your cunt, the soft and warm, private place between your thighs, his mouth now joining where his fingers touch. His tongue is hot and wet as he drags it through your sex, circling your clit with it. “Joel, please.”

Joel’s satisfied as he hears sounds of pleasure fall from your lips, feeling your hips bucking and grinding gently against his mouth. He sucks one fold, nips at the other as he curls his fingers inside you rhythmically. With the hand that’s not teasing your pussy, he digs his fingers into the soft flesh of your thigh. “Quit squirmin’ on my car,” he warns with a firm squeeze to your thigh, hard enough to bruise you. “Ya tryin’ to scratch her again?”

His wiry stubble drags across your skin, scratching gently against the inside of your thighs. You can feel it building up quickly, that hot, sparkling feeling deep in your core as he works you, sucks your clit between his lips.

“Please,” you cry, the only word you can form at the moment.

“I know, hon,” he murmurs, escalating his efforts on your pussy. Sucking, licking, curling his fingers harder. He works you through your orgasm, feeling you gush against his mouth, your arousal dripping down his fingers and pooling into the palm of his hand. Your hands fly to his scalp, twitching and jerking from the sensitivity with your fingers tugging on his curls when he licks a stripe up the seam of your cunt.

Joel pulls away from your center with a satisfied grin, lips shiny, his facial hair damp. He rises, standing above you, and sloppily kisses your lips. You’ve never tasted your own arousal before. His strong hands find your ass cheeks, pulling you closer to where he wants you.

From there, you gasp when he slides his cock through your slick folds, rubbing thick head against your sensitive clit and watches how you react to his touch. “What do you think I’m doin’ to ya next?”

“Joel,” you whimper, your hips chasing his movements, following where his cock teases your cunt.

“Yeah, you know what I’m doin,” he purrs. “Crossin’ it all off your list tonight.”

You tense when he notches just the head of his cock in your pussy, reaching for his arm, his shoulder, any part of him you can hold.

“Know you’re nervous,” he says softly, rubbing circles into your thighs. “But s’just me an’ you here. Wider, hon. Spread your legs for me.”

You nod quickly, following suit and spreading your legs to accommodate him. “Like this?”

“Yeah, like that. S’perfect, hon, that’s all I need from you. C’mere,” Joel adjusts his hold on you before inching his cock into you a bit more. You’re so tight, squeezing him hard and whining through the stretch as he pushes into you further, the gradual slide inside your body causing him to grunt quietly. “Relax for me,” he groans through a strained breath, parting your insides as he’s sheathed himself inside you fully now. “Bite me f’ya need to, sweetheart. It’ll be okay. You’ll get used to it.”

It aches, but the pain dulls as Joel lets you get used to the feeling, the newness of his cock inside you. He holds you close and you take advantage of his suggestion, biting softly into the flesh of his neck, tasting the saltiness of his skin as you whimper quietly. Joel groans, his eyebrows furrowing together. “Shh,” he hushes, “You’re okay, hon. You’re doin’ alright.”

Joel slowly pulls out of you and fills you up again. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he praises as you tilt your hips, opening yourself to accept more of him. You’re humming into his neck as his cock recedes and then pushes in once more. “Eyes on me now. There it is, easy. Easy.”

You do as instructed, pulling your face away from him to meet his gaze. His sparkling brown eyes stay on yours as he pulls out of you, pushing into you slowly, deliberately. You hold onto his neck, his broad shoulders, clutching the fabric of his sweat dampened shirt as he builds a steady pace now. He holds you close to his body, one of his hands traveling up your body and groping your bouncing breasts, teasing your sensitive nipples.

“You just follow my lead,” Joel says, fucking you faster now. His fingers are pressed firmly into your waist now as he rolls his hips against yours. The pain is gone now, dissipated with his continued languid thrusts into you. You feel so full, so satisfied with his thick cock inside you, massaging your insides.

He fucks you steadily but gently, maintaining a quick rhythm. You didn’t know sex could make you feel this way, so much pleasure. You’re moaning freely, overwhelmed with emotion, tears flowing freely down your cheeks. God, you love it, and it’s nothing but pure pleasure.

Joel’s not oblivious to your enjoyment. He’s watching you, your face contorting, he’s listening to your moans and your cries, feeling you shiver and twitch beneath his touch and how it’s all because of him, all of your pleasure at the hands of Joel and only ever Joel. He feels a sort of carnal sense of power over this, the effect his touch has on you. You’re soft, so soft and all for him, your flesh for his hands and his teeth alone to squeeze, dig into, to bite on.

You reach for his arm and guide his hand to your center, pressing his fingers against your clit as that familiar tightness in your gut begins to build once more. “Please,” you beg.

“Thought this was supposed to be a deal for me. Didn’t need to hit my car f’ya needed me like this,” he taunts, laughing breathlessly. But Joel obliges, of course he obliges you. He moves his calloused fingertips in circles over your clit, coaxing out your release. “Takin’ me so good, sweetheart. Look at you, m’gonna make you come again. Makin’ out like a fuckin’ bandit, aren’t you?”

Indeed you are. It’s not long before you’re coming for him. With his ministrations on your clit, his thrusts now faster, harder, deeper, you’re coming undone for him as his name pours from your lips, long and slow like honey. With your lips parted open, you’re twitching and shuddering against him as you watch his face, letting yourself go. You whimper and moan, and your release is volcanic in the way it washes over your body so fiercely. Heavy, vivid waves of pleasure washing over you the way lava rolls down the earth. Slow, fiery, intense.

Your pulsing cunt milks Joel’s own climax, his orgasm crashing through him in such a way that he loses focus on you. His eyes screwed shut, the noises he’s making louder than he intended–what starts as a grunt turns into a moan, long and libertine as he fucks you harder than he probably should as you whimper in overstimulation. His thrusts turn harder and frenzied as he milks himself with your cunt, spurting hot ropes of his come inside you. You take everything he gives you, feeling so warm and full of his spend.

His movements then begin to ease, slowing down some more until he eventually stills inside of you. He takes the quiet moment to check on you, holding your face in his hands as he makes sure you’re okay. Your chest heaves as he wipes your tears, but you silently nod, reassuring him that you’re alright.

With a soft grunt, he pulls out of you. He watches how your combined arousal spills on the baby blue paint of his Chevelle, then uses his thumb to push a bit of his escaped come back inside you. Such a lewd action from the man.

Joel helps you to your feet, steadying you as you stand on shaky legs. He reaches for your clothes from the hood of his car, helping you dress yourself. “Didn’t want ‘em to get dirty,” he explains. “Everything’s covered in fuckin’ dirt and grease in here.”

“Thank you,” you smile shyly. Joel opens the garage door, the once peachy and blue sky now inky black. You didn’t realize how much time had passed. You take off back to your house, but Joel grips your bicep before you can step any further.

“Nuh uh,” he tuts. “Ya already hit my car, hon, you don’t wanna leave your mess on the hood now too, do ya?” Joel gestures to your combined arousal on the hood of his Chevelle, swipes his pointer finger through the mess and pushes it between your lips. Your brows furrow at the taste, that salty, heady flavor you’ve never tasted before now. “Use your tongue, sweetheart.”

“You want me…”

“Lick it up,” he instructs in a quiet voice. Joel figured he might’ve let you off too easy, seeing as how you came twice–once on his tongue and once on his cock when this was all supposed to be for him. He bends you over the hood of his car, groping your ass as he leans over your shoulder to inspect your work, making sure it’s a job well done. “Good girl,” he praises, watching you lick his car clean. When you’re done, he kisses you softly.

He walks you home, dropping you off on your doorstep. You’re not quite sure what to say, whether you should apologize again, thank him, say goodnight. Joel fills the silence for you. “Gonna teach you how to drive right one of these days. Keep you out of another mess like this one, hm?” he smirks as he kisses your cheek. “Goodnight, hon.”

If you enjoyed, please reblog, leave me a comment, and/or send an ask 🩷 your words mean the world to me and your interaction keeps me motivated to write. Love you all <3

From now on I’ll be sharing cat pics at the end of my fics. Hope you don’t mind 🐈‍⬛😻

#strang3lov3 #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #joel miller #the last of us #the last of us hbo #joel miller fic #joel tlou #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal characters #joel miller x virgin reader

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joelscruff · 1 month

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one of your girls (frankie morales x triple frontier boys) 18+

a/n it's @swiftiscruff friendship exchange time!!! i'm so beyond excited to share this piece i've been working on, dedicated to my incredible friend han @swiftispunk 🌙 we brainstormed the idea for this fic months ago and it's finally somehow become something tangible - but han, if i've learned anything from writing this fic, it's how much i depend on you when it comes to so many aspects of my writing. whether it be workshopping ideas, input on characterization & dialogue, sharing snippets, etc, you are always there to lend a hand, listen, and advise. not having that this time around (because this fic has been a secret ofc!) just further proved to me what an incredibly patient, giving, caring, kind, & beautiful friend you are. i love you so much & i'm so grateful you slid in my dms one whole year ago today 💕 summary: unpacking some of frankie's old things leads to a revelation about his past. (OR to put it simply: frankie morales x triple frontier boys circle jerk 🙌) rating: 18+ explicit warnings: circle jerk (frankie/benny/santiago/will), sub!frankie, bukkake, facials, cumplay, cum swallowing, frankie is literally a cum dumpster (and loves it), praise kink galore, pet names (good boy, baby boy), dirty talk, oral (m receiving), deepthroating, cock worship, use of restraints, sexy photographs, sharing, mentions of frankie x all the boys individually (this includes tom but he's not involved in the circle jerk - sorry tom), brief mentions of anal sex (m/m), for story purposes you are frankie's current gf but it's not really the main focus...for now anyway, all of this takes place before the events of triple frontier word count: 12.2k ao3 dividers by @saradika-graphics 💙

You've been moving boxes for what feels like forever, arms aching and the sun beating hot against the back of your neck as you swipe sweat from your brow and head back into the aging, disintegrating storage unit. When Frankie had first told you about it you'd been adamant that he move his old things - locked away for almost ten years now - out of the unit and into the new house. "We don't need to be paying for storage when we have a garage", you'd said confidently, "we have a house now, Frankie. What's yours is mine."

If only you'd believed him when he'd told you it wouldn't be that easy.

"I told y-" he begins for the fourth time as you lean down to grab another box, but you snap up immediately with a finger to your lips. "Why don't I just do the rest from here?" He offers fruitlessly, "You take a break, relax in the truck for a little while."

You're already shaking your head before he's finished talking, resuming your retrieval of the large box at your feet, "No, Frankie. We do this together."

You don't have to look at him to know that he's rolling his eyes. All the same, you hear him clamoring after you with another box as he follows you from the unit and back to the truck. The sun hangs high overhead and you squint uncomfortably against it, piling the box alongside the others in the truck bed. Frankie does the same.

"I mean, what's even in all of these?" you ask exasperatedly, shoving one of the many boxes with your hand and leaning backwards against the truck, "How did you accumulate this much shit in the military? I thought minimalism was all the rage over there."

"I told you, it's not just mine," he reaches forward to brush some sweaty tendrils of hair out of your eyes, "It's the whole team's shit. Well, mostly Ben and Pope's, the others were uh-" he winches, "a little more organized, I guess."

"You guess?" you push up on your hands and seat yourself precariously on the edge of the truck bed, catching your breath. Frankie watches as you tear open the nearest box, biting down on his lip to stifle a laugh when he sees your eyes widen at what's inside.

"Paperwork?" you breathe, mouth agape, "Paperwork? That's what in all these? Fucking forms?"

"Something they don't tell you when you first join," he shrugs, "But no, that's not all that's in these. There's souvenirs, journals, photos, mission plans-" he cuts himself off and stops speaking altogether, lips clamping shut. Your brow furrows as you watch him assess the open box beside you, then the others strewn haphazardly here and there inside the truck bed, as if he's only just realized something he hadn't considered before.

"What?"

He seems to shake himself from whatever stopped him, eyes still settled on the open box as he murmurs, "Um, maybe don't open any more right now."

You raise an eyebrow, "Why not?"

"Just, uh... don't."

"Well that's not ominous in the slightest."

He laughs but something about it seems off, almost forced as he reaches forward with both hands to help you down from the truck. You follow his lead, peering up at him curiously and hoping maybe he'll elaborate, explain, but instead he turns on the spot and heads back toward the storage unit, pulling you along in tow.

You decide not to press him about it for the time being. Right now, all you can think about is finishing hauling these ridiculous boxes and devouring an iced coffee on the way home.

A week passes before you even think about the boxes again.

By that time they've been taking up residence in the garage, haphazardly placed along the concrete in unorganized disarray, exactly where you'd both left them the day you unloaded the unit. You'd been too exhausted to start unpacking and had instead collapsed on the couch, laying there with aching limbs as Frankie discarded your empty iced coffee and poured you a tall glass of water.

"Your job is done now, querida," he'd murmured softly, stroking your cheek, "I'll do the rest."

Except he hadn't. He'd pulled your feet into his lap and settled comfortably beside you on the couch, just for a moment - and then it was lights out for the both of you, boxes be damned.

Now you find yourself the following Saturday perched precariously atop your counter, fingers smeared a soft fern green as you paint the walls of your new kitchen. You only moved into this house a month ago - your first real house together; shared, owned, all that jazz. Most of that time has already been entirely dedicated to making it your own space; unpacking, decorating, furnishing, rearranging - you've been more than busy with curating this new step in both your lives.

Which is why it's not surprising that you forget about the storage unit boxes and their scatteredness in the garage, too distracted by your current ongoing tasks. You hum along to the radio as you carefully attend to the smallest crevices and spaces between the cupboards, above the stove, under the window sill. You need it to be perfect, have gone far too long living in a less than adequate apartment without much creative freedom for this house to suffer the same fate.

Of course, just as you acknowledge the desire for perfection, your hand slips. A splash of green suddenly paints the pure white window sill and your heart sinks.

"Frankie!" you call out with a groan, reaching forward to wipe the mess away and only making it worse, "Where's the white paint?"

"Should be in the garage, I think," you hear him call back from the living room, busy with his own task of painting the walls a deep maroon, "Need me to get it for you?"

"No, I got it," you slide off the counter, careful to avoid the can of green paint at your feet as you make your way to the garage. It's only when you pass the threshold off the laundry room that you finally remember the forgotten boxes, faced with them for the first time since you dropped them off.

"Dammit, Francisco," you mutter, "You said you'd take care of it."

You can't really blame him though. It really is an undertaking; you'd known that from the moment he told you about the unit to begin with. He'd wanted to keep them there, would rather continue paying the monthly fee than deal with the enormous amount of unpacking he'd have to do, but you'd pushed. Now, as you grimace at the pile of heavy boxes, you wonder if maybe he'd been right.

For now, you turn your attention to the task at hand - finding white paint. You scan the storage shelves along the walls and spot the can you're looking for on a high shelf, out of reach.

Maybe those boxes can serve a purpose today.

You shove one toward the shelf and heave another one on top, making quick work of it despite the effort. Climbing onto your makeshift stepladder, you reach for the white paint and successfully pull it to your chest, but the added weight causes your feet to dig into the box below, exposing its contents as you carefully pull yourself back down. Your eyes can't help but dart to the crushed opening, spotting what looks like a photo album peeking through.

Setting the paint down, you lower yourself onto the concrete and cross your legs, biting your lip and reaching inside the box to grab the album. It's navy blue, relatively small, lightweight. A little skim couldn't hurt.

As soon as you open the photo album you can't help but smile, met immediately with a photo of Frankie and Santiago with their arms around each other - fifteen years younger. Their eyes are alight with excitement, Frankie's cap askew and Santi's expression caught in a permanent laugh. Before, you think to yourself, this was before shit got real. You flip the page and smile wider when you see a photo of Benny and Will, caught in what must be a playful brawl with Benny's hand grabbing at Will's leg as he tries to get away. Will is grinning from ear to ear, a genuine smile you've only seen a handful of times. Yep, definitely before.

You flip through the rest of the photos with a heaviness in your heart you can't describe. You've known these boys for a handful of years, have only heard fragments of the shit they've been through together, but you know it wasn't easy, know it affected them in ways you'll never even begin to understand. Being able to see them before all that, before they became hardened and molded by pain and trauma, you can't deny the emotions that bubble in your throat.

The last page contains a group photo; Frankie is in the center, surrounded by his friends on all sides, Will and Benny turned towards him with a fond smile and a grin, Santiago with an arm around him again and his head tilted to brush against Frankie's cap, and Tom on the edge - looking a little out of place, you must admit. But then, you suppose, things haven't really changed.

You're about to close the album and return to your painting when you notice a little pocket built into the backing, hidden out of sight with a hint of white poking through. Not wanting to miss out on another good photo, you slip your finger inside and happily tug out what looks to be a polaroid, different than the others. Curiously, you flip it over.

And immediately drop it to the floor.

Suddenly you can hear Frankie's words from last week, thrumming in your mind on repeat: "Um, maybe don't open any more right now."

You hadn't understood. But now you think you do.

With slightly shaky fingers you reach down and pick up the polaroid, taking a breath before slowly flipping it over again. Lips parted, eyes wide, heart pounding, you peer down at the little photograph and try to understand what you're seeing.

A much younger Frankie - naked, save for the cap on his head and the pants around his ankles. On his knees, peering up at the camera with hooded eyes and a fucked-out expression you've become more than familiar with at this point in your relationship. But that's not what made you drop the photo, no.

His face is covered in cum. You know that's what it is, know there's nothing else it could possibly be. Thick trails of it paint his face like abstract art, dripping down his forehead and the bridge of his nose, his cheeks, his lips, his chin. It's all over him, smeared along his neck and chest bloomed red with heat and arousal. His cap is askew, cheeks flushed, and - most notable of all - he's smiling. Looking up at the camera, drenched in cum, smiling.

Frankie is bisexual; you've known this since your first date, remember how shy he'd been as he'd softly murmured, "Just so you know, I like girls and guys." It hadn't bothered you at all to know that he'd been with men in the past - in fact, you'd kind of liked that about him.

So this - this doesn't bother you. You're not bothered. You're... you don't know what you are, can't seem to pinpoint exactly how you're feeling right now as peer down at the polaroid that you were probably never supposed to find. You're not bothered, you're just... surprised. And confused. What is this doing here? Why is it hidden in an album of Frankie and his friends?

....Oh.

"Find it?" you suddenly hear Frankie call from the living room, and your stomach drops. You hastily stand and slip the polaroid into your back pocket, then close the album and toss it back into the box.

"Y-yeah," you call back, "I got it!"

You try not to mention it. Try, being the operative word.

But it's all you can think about. It's all you see when you reunite with Frankie in the kitchen later that afternoon, staring at the flecks of maroon paint scattered across his face and being unable to not see smears of splattered white. It's all you see that evening as you dig into your leftover Chinese food, eyes constantly flickering across the table to watch Frankie bite and chew, lips soft and wet and definitely not leaking cum at the corners.

It's all you see that night when you settle in bed and watch as he comes out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist, water dripping down his neck and chest not unlike the thick drops of release in the photo. You watch with hooded eyes, lips parted, heart thrumming, as he tugs the towel off and walks to the dresser with his pert ass on full display. You can't help but wonder if there'd been cum there too, leaking and dripping, hidden away because of the angle of the photo.

"I can feel you staring at me," he suddenly says with a chuckle, "Why don't you take a picture? It'll last longer." He says it in jest but you feel your face bloom with heat, immediately averting your eyes and burying yourself beneath the sheets.

"I was not," you lie, "Get over yourself."

He laughs again and you hear him shut the dresser, probably tugging on a pair of briefs, "You've been looking at me weird all day, it's kind of freaking me out."

You want to point out that "all day" is an exaggeration, but then you'd have to admit that you have been looking at him strangely for at least a portion of it, and you really don't want to do that. Instead, you reach over and turn off the lamp on your bedside table, then nuzzle into your pillow and close your eyes, ignoring him.

"Is something wrong, baby?" you hear him ask, humor slowly dissipating from his voice, "You need to talk about anything?"

"No," you lie, your own voice betraying you immediately, "I'm fine."

You feel the bed dip beside you, feel the warmth of his palm come down to gently caress your upper arm, "You sure? Did I do something to upset you?" You can practically hear him wince as soon as he says the words, "I know, I should already know if I did. But today's been busy and-"

"You didn't do anything, Frankie," you tell him softly, "I promise."

"Then what is it?" you can hear the concern, the gentle worry as he strokes your arm up and down, "Talk to me." He sounds so kind, so tender, as always. It's so damn hard to keep anything from him. You sigh.

"I feel..." you grimace, eyes still closed, "I just feel..."

He waits for you to continue, in the meantime settling into bed beside you and tugging the sheets up over himself. You feel his warmth against your body and it immediately fills you with a sense of calm, comfort. Your heart slows a bit, breaths coming a little easier as he brings his arm down to wrap around you and pull you in close.

"How do you feel, querida?" he murmurs, "Tell me."

"Guilty," you finally breathe, and you're surprised to feel tears pricking in your eyes, "I feel guilty."

You can hear the confusion in his voice, "For what?"

"I...I saw something I shouldn't have," you admit quietly, "In one of your boxes. Something really private that you probably never ever wanted me to see and I'm so sorry." You feel his arm freeze at your side and you take a shaky breath, "And now I can't stop thinking about it even though it's absolutely none of my damn business. And I wanna ask you about it but I really have no right to, not when I wasn't even supposed to know about it in the first place, and-"

"Mierda," he groans - shit.

"I'm so sorry, Frankie" you whisper pathetically, still facing away from him, "It's all my fault and if you need me to just forget about it, I will. I promise that I will."

"Fuck," he murmurs, "No no, baby, it's not your fault, it's mine. I should have unpacked all of it myself. I knew there was shit in there you might not wanna see."

"Y-you're not mad at me?"

He buries his face in your hair, nose nuzzling against your neck, "Of course I'm not mad at you - could never be mad at you for that. What's mine is yours, remember?"

You pull away to turn and face him, expression pensive. He's looking at you with earnest eyes, no anger or betrayal to be seen, and it almost makes it worse. Because does he know? Does he realize what exactly it is that you found?

"You have um..." you bite your lip, "You have pictures, in a photo album."

He stares at you, brow furrowing. "What?"

Fuck.

"There was... there was a photo album in one of the boxes. And I figured I'd just flip through it, just to have a look at you when you were younger, you know? Thought it'd be nice, that there might be something we could frame for the house."

He's looking at you like you're speaking another language, confusion lining his features, "....So?"

"So... so I found..." you wince, the image flashing behind your lids again as you try to figure out how to word it, "I found a picture that I don't think you would have wanted me to see."

He's still staring at you, the cogs turning in his head but seemingly no closer to an answer. You picture him flipping through an invisible rolodex, trying to pinpoint exactly what picture you could be talking about. You're starting to realize that maybe when he'd told you to stop looking in the boxes he'd been talking about something else.

"Honestly baby, I thought you meant you looked at some of my paperwork," he admits. Bingo. "Saw some stuff we did for a mission or something. There's plans in those boxes, strategy stuff, and you know how intense some of those were, some of the..." he takes a beat, biting his lip, "some of the things we had to do."

You shake your head quickly, "It wasn't anything like that. It wasn't...it wasn't something serious, really. It was..." you take a deep breath, still unable to say the words. Instead, you reach over into your nightstand and grab the polaroid, sitting up in bed and waiting for him to join you.

"What is it?" he asks, gentle and kind as he sits up beside you, "You can tell me, baby. We can talk about it."

Your heart races but you figure there's no going back from it now, and you're not sure you'd want to keep it from him anyway. Up until this point you and Frankie have always made communication an important part of your relationship. It's been necessary considering what he's been through, what he still deals with, and it's something that you're proud of. You're just gonna have to grin and bear it.

With a sigh, you shakily hand him the polaroid.

He flips it.

And drops it.

"Oh," he gasps, hand coming up to cover his mouth, "Oh, fuck."

"It's not- I'm not-" you stutter, fumbling over your words, "It's not a big deal, really. Like, it's whatever. I know you're bi, I know you've probably sucked your fair share of dicks-"

"Oh god," Frankie moans, his hands coming up to cover his eyes, "Oh my god."

"Hey, hey, no," you reach up and try to pull his hands away from his face, desperation in your voice, "Do not hide from me, you did nothing wrong. You hear me? There's nothing wrong with this." He groans again, shaking his head, but you just keep on talking, "I'm not mad about it or anything, it'd be pretty fucked up for me to mad about it actually. I'm just- hey," you continue to pry at his fingers, "Francisco, look at me."

Slowly, hesitantly, he finally removes his hands from his eyes to peer at you. You can see the embarrassment there, the humiliation - and not the good kind, not the kind he likes.

"Hey," you whisper, "You don't have to talk about this. We can pretend I never even saw it if that's what you want," you bring his hands down and hold them tightly, squeeze them in your own, "I just... I just wanted you to know that I saw it. And that I was just a little curious about why it was in an album from your military days. That's it. That's all."

His eyes fall back to the flipped polaroid on the bed, the back of it facing the both of you. You watch as he slowly reaches forward to pick it up again with his index and middle finger, pulls it upwards and turns it around to see it again.

Out of respect for him, you don't look at it. You just watch his face, his expression. He looks.... thoughtful.

"Talk to me," you whisper, voice breaking, "Please."

He looks from the polaroid to you, then back to the polaroid. After taking a steadying breath, he places it back down onto the bed between the two of you, face up. Your eyes spot his cum-covered face again, frozen forever in time, and you quickly avert your gaze.

He notices, and gives you a small half smile. You return it tenfold.

"Well, it.." he starts, taking another breath, "It was just something that.. we just started-" he cuts himself off, smile turning to a frown as he formulates his words. "It started..."

"Hey," you breathe, reaching down to squeeze his hands again, "Take your time."

It started as a way to blow off steam - that's it. Simple, easy.

They'd all gotten to know one another during training, spent time shooting the shit and building friendships with each other. There had been such a sense of belonging, of fortified brotherhood, a pull toward one another that none of them could deny. So it was unsurprising when their teamwork and comradery resulted in their placement into a special task force, just the five of them against the world - or, rather, the enemy.

But it was stressful. Going from basic military training to special ops added a new layer of pressure and competence that they hadn't experienced before, and it was no walk in the park. Things got harder, more pressing, more important. And all they had, like always, was each other.

So it made sense one night, for Frankie anyway, to offer Santiago a blowjob.

He'd heard the stiff grunts from the bed beside him, the dry - too dry - slap of skin as Santi worked at himself beneath the thin sheet of his bunk. It wasn't abnormal for Frankie to overhear one of his buddies masturbating; in fact it would have been abnormal to not hear it. He'd gotten used to the different sounds they'd each make as they gripped their cocks, hidden away in the dark, and pumped themselves to completion. He had memorized the sounds of their breathing, the grunts and the whines, the soft moans of their orgasms.

But it was never something that was discussed. It was an unspoken rule, almost: what happens in the bunks stays in the bunks. So Frankie had never even considered crossing that line, especially because he was pretty sure he was the only one in the group who liked dudes - something everyone was only vaguely aware of.

There was something about the desperation in Santi's movements that night, in the sweat on his brow and the pained expression on his face. He'd gotten reprimanded earlier that day for failing a training mission, been yelled at by two commanding officers while the rest of the boys looked on with regret in their hearts. If one of them failed, they all felt as if they'd failed too. Santi hadn't spoken to anyone for the rest of the day, had eaten in silence and then retired to his bunk much too early. And now, hours later here he was, hand around his cock, trying to forget.

And Frankie wanted to help.

"Pope," he'd whispered under his breath, just loud enough for Santiago to hear. Santi had turned his head slightly, eyebrows raising when he realized he'd been caught in the act. He'd been about to say something, defend himself maybe, but Frankie had shook his head and continued, "Need some help?"

A look of confusion. "Help?"

Frankie's eyes had wandered to the shape of Santi's lower half beneath the sheet, then back up to meet his gaze.

"Yeah," he'd murmured earnestly, "Help."

Santi had stared at him for a few seconds, brow furrowed, chest heaving. His hand was frozen under the sheet, gripping firmly to his hard cock as he'd considered Frankie's offer. Someone else might have hurled hurtful words, another might have ignored him completely.

But Santi took a deep breath and leaned back, closed his eyes and breathed, "Go ahead."

Frankie had been under the sheet in minutes.

Tucked away, hidden in case any of the other guys woke up, Frankie sucked slowly on his friend's cock. He wasn't sure how much Santi wanted to see of him, figured maybe he'd have his eyes closed as he pictured someone else, maybe that girl he liked from back home, but it didn't matter to Frankie - what mattered most was helping his friend forget about the shitty day he'd had. He treated Santi's cock like something to be worshipped, swallowing and licking around the big shape of him, warm and thick in his mouth. And when Santi came, it was only moments after Frankie had started.

His hands came down to grip Frankie's curls, tugging and pulling as he'd groaned and spilled down his friend's throat. And Frankie had swallowed every drop.

"Francisco," Santi had murmured when Frankie pulled off his cock with a pop, a drop of cum leaking from the corner of his mouth as he peered up at Santi from beneath the sheet, "You've been holding out on me."

With a smile, Frankie had licked the cum away and placed a gentle, reverent kiss to the wet head of Santi's cock. Santi had watched with hooded eyes, let Frankie kiss him there a few more times, let him trail his nose along his thick shaft and inhale deeply at the base. Hands still carding through his hair, Santi had let him mouth at his cock for a few more minutes before softly telling him he should get back in his bunk.

"Just trying to savor it," Frankie had whispered, voice a little sad, a little broken.

"You'll do it again," Santi had replied, reveling in the way Frankie's eyes widened, a smile lighting up his face.

And he did do it again - the following night. He'd been a little hesitant, unsure if Santiago had really meant what he said. But after the others had fallen asleep and Frankie was still just lying there, waiting, he'd heard a soft pssst sound. He'd looked over to see Santi sitting up in bed with a smirk on his face and one hand already beneath the sheet, tugging at his dick.

He stuffed his mouth with Santi's cock every night that week. It was almost feral the way he drank him down, eyes rolling as his lips kissed Santi's pubic hair and his tongue laved the shaft of his cock up and down, up and down. Drool cascaded from his lips all over his friend's belly, and he whined softly over and over whenever his curls were tugged, his temples stroked. Santi would talk to him softly, murmur the quietest little praises that made Frankie insane with need. That's it, there you go. You take what you need, Francisco. And then he'd come down his throat, fill his stomach with it, and whisper, "Good boy."

It was filthy, but it wasn't wrong. Not one part of it felt wrong. And Santiago never once made him feel like it was a shameful secret they were keeping, like the others finding out would be the end of the world. And it's good that he'd maintained that stance, because soon enough, Benny was in on it too. They should have seen it coming, considering his bunk was directly above Santi's.

"Can you give me one, maybe?" he'd asked Frankie awkwardly one night, voice quiet and slightly nervous as he leaned over the bars of the bunk bed, "I've been... I've been listening to it every night and it's driving me fuckin' crazy that I don't know what it feels like."

"Are you saying you've never had a blowjob, Ben?"

Benny had rolled his eyes, "Of course I've had a fuckin' blowjob, idiot. I've just never had a... a you know..." he'd shrugged, "A Frankie blowjob."

"It's good," Santi had said nonchalantly, tugging off his shirt and climbing into his bunk, "He's fucking incredible, actually."

Frankie had preened at the praise, cheeks reddening. An hour later he'd climbed up into Benny's bunk and deepthroated his cock for a solid fifteen minutes. Benny was breathless, chest blooming with heat as he watched Frankie suck and drool, gagging every so often but immediately resuming his sloppy ministrations as soon as he'd caught his breath.

"Look at that," Benny had marveled softly, "Look at that."

"I told you," they'd both heard Santi whisper from below, "He's a fucking godsend."

"I'm gonna cum down your fuckin' throat, Frankie," Benny had groaned, and no sooner were the words out that he was following through, spurting slow and steady into Frankie's mouth. He gripped the back of his head, watched Frankie swallow, and then whispered, "Good boy". Oh, he really had been listening.

Sated and warm with wet and sticky briefs, Frankie had climbed back into bed with a new appreciation for Benny.

As if two wasn't enough, Will got involved shortly after that. Of course Benny had unsurprisingly spilled the beans to his brother, which lead to Frankie climbing atop his own bunk one night to join Will, who'd been a bit unsure. It was as if he thought a prank was being pulled on him, like it was all bullshit, but he didn't say no.

"Been wonderin' what you three were gettin' up to," he'd muttered, watching Frankie a bit dubiously, brow furrowed, arms crossed, "Ben says you're, uh... good."

"I'm good," Frankie had promised softly, bringing his hands down to tug at Will's boxers, "Promise."

Will had watched as Frankie brought his already hardening cock out of his underwear, kissed the tip gently and then brought it into his mouth. "Oh fuck," he'd heard Will gasp out, immediately reaching up to cup the back of Frankie's head. And then there were three.

But three stayed three. Tom did find out about it, considering every single night somebody seemed to be getting their dick sucked. Any discreetness had gone out the window, especially when two of them would jack themselves off to the sounds of Frankie slurping and sucking, groans and the heavy slap of skin echoing throughout the large room. But despite the knowledge of what his friends were doing, the leader of the group was seemingly disinterested in having a go with Frankie.

There was one disastrous evening wherein the others managed to convince Tom to give it a shot. But Frankie bobbed on his cock for a solid five minutes before realizing he just wasn't getting him hard, and Tom had pushed him away and turned in bed with a low sigh.

"It's just not for me, Fish," he'd muttered, "Pretend it never happened."

"He doesn't know what he's missing," Santi had murmured ten minutes later as he watched Frankie suckle on the leaking tip of his cock, "Huh, Francisco? Doesn't know you've got the mouth of an angel, huh?"

Frankie had continued to suck, eyes closed, breathing deeply in and out as Santi stroked his hair.

Things were easier for a while after that. The training was strenuous, oftentimes near impossible, but there was always pleasure at the end of it, always something to look forward to. Every night Frankie would take up residence in someone's bunk, usually after a quick game of rock paper scissors or a straw draw. Each of his friends were different in their own way, and Frankie took a lot of joy in being able to have those moments with them, be what they needed. It felt like he was floating, dreaming; he'd never realized how badly he wanted to be submissive like this until it actually happened. Being their shared prize, their plaything, it was fucking incredible.

Sometimes he'd have all three in one night. He'd deepthroat Benny's cock and swallow him down, then stagger to Will's bunk and do the same. With his own erection aching in his underwear he'd finally crawl in with Santi and allow his closest friend to pull down his briefs and notch the head of his cock into his ass. Santi was the only one who fucked him, the only one who held him close afterwards and sometimes fell asleep with him.

"You my good boy, Francisco?" he'd murmur in Frankie's ear as he fucked him slow and deep, fingers digging into his hips beneath the sheets, "You like feelin' that cock in your ass?"

And god, did he ever.

The first real mission was brutal.

It was tame compared to the things they'd eventually do, but for what it was, they were stressed out of their minds. They spent weeks planning, training, preparing. They'd find themselves so tired at the end of the day that their nighttime habits became a thing of the past, if not something that only happened once in a blue moon. And in its own way the lack of it had begun to affect everything else, their comradery, their abilities, their drive. The day before the mission was set to begin, Benny stood up at dinner and proclaimed, "We've gotta get our shit together."

"Sit down, our shit is together," Tom grumbled, "We're gonna be fine."

"We are not gonna be fine," Benny argued, expression genuinely fearful, "We're gonna fail the whole fuckin' thing and then we're out on our asses."

"There's truth to that, you know there is," Will pointed out as he pulled Benny back down, "There's somethin' missing here. We're not on our A game."

"What, 'cause Morales isn't getting sucked and fucked?"

Frankie's head had gone up, ears tinging pink as he looked over at Tom along with everybody else. There had been a beat of silence, and then-

"Nobody said that," Santi had stated calmly, "And don't be a dick."

"I'm not being a dick. It's fine what you all get up to in your own time, whatever. But it's not the be-all and end-all of our fucking team," he'd shrugged and looked at Santi with a frown, "I mean, come on, Pope. We're prepared, with or without the extracurriculars."

"We are," Santiago had agreed with a nod, turning to Benny, "It's gonna be fine, man. The nerves are just kicking in now but that's normal. We've trained for this, we're ready."

But Frankie could tell he wasn't being entirely truthful.

That night, despite the tiredness of the last day of training and the anxiety of what was to come - Frankie found a solution. He told Santi first, whispered it to him in his bunk and grinned at the expression on his friend's face, awestruck and aroused all at once.

"You're sure?" Santi asked him quietly.

"I'm sure. I think it'll help us de-stress."

Santi had leaned forward and tilted Frankie's cap up, pressed a firm kiss to his forehead and murmured, "Me sigues sorprendiendo, Francisco." You continue to surprise me.

A moment later he was climbing the ladder of Santi's bunk, coming face to face with Benny. "You wanna do something kinky?"

The younger man's eyebrow raised, "Kinkier than usual?"

"A blowjob is not kinky, Ben."

"Getting one from a guy is."

Frankie rolled his eyes and went to pull himself back down the ladder but Benny stopped him, reaching out to touch his wrist.

"What'd you have in mind?"

And that's how he'd ended up on his knees.

Will and Benny stood on either side of Santiago, all three men looking down at their submissive friend with unbridled arousal in their expressions, dark and anticipatory. There was silence at first, not necessarily awkward but full of a definite tension that was more than palpable.

Until-

"Tie him up," Santi murmured to Benny. Frankie's eyes went hooded almost immediately, lips parting as he peered up at his friends and felt his heart pound at the thought of what Santi was asking.

"How so?"

"His hands," Santi clarified, "There's some string in the first aid kit, tie his hands behind his back so he can't touch himself."

Benny followed his orders without question, heading toward the bathroom to grab the kit while Will gave Santiago a confused look. "Why can't he touch himself?"

Santi smiled, tilting his head a bit and peering down at Frankie's already debauched form. He walked forward and kneeled down in front of him, levelling with him as he reached for his waistband.

"'Cause he likes it," Santi murmured, "Haven't you noticed something about Frankie in all the months we've been doing this?" As he spoke he pulled down Frankie's pants to his knees, exposing his bare thighs to the room. He was already hard, the long shape of his cock protruding from his black briefs. "He doesn't touch himself," he continued softly, stroking his thumb gently against the V of Frankie's hips, "He always comes in his pants when he sucks our dicks."

Hearing the words aloud, stated so matter-of-factly, Frankie realized in that moment how fucking well Santiago had come to know him. Not once had Frankie voiced this, told him anything about what he really liked, what he craved. And yet here he was, having his desires told directly to him, like it was the most casual thing in the world.

"And when he gets fucked," Santi continued, fingers trailing downward to ever so gently cup Frankie's cock, "He only lets me touch it. Ain't that right, Francisco?"

Frankie nodded slowly, a lump forming in his throat.

"Why?" Will asked again - always wanting clarification, an explanation.

"'Cause it feels good, doesn't it, Frankie?" Santi cooed, releasing Frankie's bulge and bringing his hand up to place a finger under his chin, "Feels so good to come untouched, huh? Feels good to let go when you've got a dick in your mouth, to fall asleep with your underwear all wet and your cock all sticky?"

Frankie nodded again, cheeks blooming pink. He felt someone behind him pick up his hands, start tying them together - Benny.

"Come to think of it, I've never seen his cock," Benny admitted, voice already rough with anticipation, "I mean... I guess I had other things on my mind."

"He's got a fucking great cock," Santi murmured, "Why don't you show 'em, Francisco? Let 'em see what you've been hiding under here, huh?" His finger dug into the band of Frankie's briefs, and all Frankie could do was nod again, unable to speak with the way his thoughts had begun to melt away, brain going fuzzy.

Benny finished tying his hands and walked in front of him again to stand alongside Santi, eyebrows going up when he watched Frankie's cock be freed from the confines of his underwear. It stood at attention immediately, long and hard, pink and flushed at the tip. It smacked wetly against his belly, balls hanging heavy and full as Santi pulled his briefs down entirely.

"Now look at that pretty cock," Santi breathed, almost just for Frankie alone, "Look how it's dripping."

And it was dripping, already pulsing and bobbing against his belly button with every rise and fall of his chest. The three men watched in silence for a moment as Frankie took deep breaths, his cock twitching and stuttering in front of them without being touched, simply exposed to the cool air of the room and their interested gazes.

"I kinda wanna...." Benny started to say, but trailed off, blushing a bit as he took a step away from his brother.

"I'll stay between you," Santi offered quickly, "Pull 'em out, it's fine."

There was no more hesitation after that. Frankie watched under his lashes as his three friends reached into their pajama pants and pulled out their cocks. Will was still mostly soft, though you could tell he was starting to harden with the sudden gravity of the situation. Benny was already stiff and leaking as he fisted his own, and Santiago's hung heavy and thick between his legs as he carefully circled the head with his thumb.

"We're gonna come all over your face, Frank," Benny told him quietly as he jerked his cock slowly up and down, "You know that, right? You're sure you're cool with that?"

It was like he was underwater, still unable to speak; he hadn't said one word since he'd gotten on his knees. It was as if the submissive part of him had taken over completely, mind going blank.

"Say yes or no, Fish," Will said, voice strained as he squeezed himself gently, "Wanna hear it."

"Yes," Frankie had finally managed to whimper, knees trembling against the cold floor, "Yes, please."

Santi grinned, "Well boys, I think we got our answer," He tilted his head again to eye Frankie from where he stood, "Let's get a little closer, shall we? I think he wants us up close and personal."

Within a few seconds Frankie was suddenly face to face with three cocks - it was like fucking Christmas morning. His mouth popped open and drool immediately began to collect in the corners of his mouth, eyes trailing back and forth to look at absolutely everything he could. He stared at the weeping tips, the fat heads, the thick shafts where his friends pumped and fisted. Without any thoughts in his brain he opened his mouth and laid his tongue flat against his lower lip, staring at Benny's cock - arguably the biggest - with pleading eyes.

"Yeah, you wanna suck on it, don't you?" Benny asked, a smile in his voice, "You go ahead, Fish. Suck that cock."

He did not need telling twice. His lips wrapped around the pink mushroom head of Benny's cock and his eyes rolled back as he began to suck, tongue lapping at the tip and devouring everything it had to offer. God he loved having his mouth full, loved hearing Benny's groans as he pushed his head forward and enveloped more and more of the cock in front of him, began to slide his lips up and down the shaft and cover it in his saliva.

"So pretty with a cock in your throat, Francisco," Santi told him, voice full of praise as he watched Frankie sink down even further on Benny's cock, 'til his nose was buried in his pubic hair. "Tell him how pretty he is, Benny. He wants to hear it."

Frankie anticipated some hesitance, maybe even a sarcastic comment, but Benny did no such thing. Instead, Benny's hand came up to cup the back of Frankie's head, holding him still on his cock as he breathed, "You're so pretty, Frankie."

A high keen of a whine made it's way from Frankie's throat, vibrated around the cock in his mouth. Benny trembled a bit, tangling his fingers in his hair and helping him bob a few more times before pulling him off completely. Frankie gasped for breath, tears in his eyes as he stared up at his friends.

"Your turn," Santi murmured quietly to Will, "Stuff him full."

"He fuckin' loves being stuffed," Will replied with a low chuckle, yanking Frankie forward by his hair and shoving his now fully hard cock into his mouth. It was the kind of rough Frankie was already well acquainted with when it came to Will, and he welcomed it with gratitude. He closed his eyes and allowed Will's cock to sink into his mouth like Benny's had, then swallowed around it, tightening the walls of his throat and gagging around the large intrusion.

"Yeah, choke on it, baby," Will muttered, gripping both sides of Frankie's head with a groan, "Baby boy."

Baby boy. That was a new one, especially from Will, but Frankie certainly wasn't complaining. He swallowed around him again, feeling his own cock bob against his stomach as he continued to worship Will's dick. There was only so much of the sensation that Will could take, and before long he too was pulling out of Frankie's mouth and resuming his slow strokes, breathing heavily.

"M'your baby boy," Frankie murmured to the three of them, Will's words still echoing in his mind. His voice was already completely shot, rough and scratchy from the two large cocks that had invaded his throat.

"You are," Santiago cooed, leaning forward to gently tap the head of his own cock against Frankie's bottom lip, "You're our baby boy, Frankie. Our good, pretty, perfect boy, huh?"

Yes, Frankie wanted to whisper, it's all I am. It's all I wanna be. But his mouth was already being filled a third time, this time by Santi's cock - the thickest of the three. His vision blurred with tears as it stretched his lips, the masculine taste dripping on the back of his tongue and down his throat. He'd had Santi's cock in his mouth the most out of everyone's; had fallen asleep a few times suckling on the tip of it while Santi murmured praise, like a comfort, a constant.

He knew exactly what Santi liked, what he didn't, how to tease him, how to get him there. Immediately, Frankie curled his tongue around the wide head, dipped the tip of it into Santi's slit and carefully fucked it in and out while suctioning the rest. He kept his eyes open this time even though they burned with tears, allowing himself to meet Santiago's gaze just how he knew he liked it.

"Oh, good boy," Santi praised softly, thumbing Frankie's cheeks and letting the head of his cock sit just inside the wet heat of his mouth, "Suckin' on that cock like it's my thumb, huh? Just how you like it?"

Now that was something unbeknownst to Benny and Will. They knew Santi liked to fuck Frankie sometimes, but they didn't know much about the logistics, the positioning, the way it worked. More often than not, Frankie would suck on Santi's thumb when he was being fucked, liked the feeling of having both his holes full at the same time. It felt complete somehow, safe. God, what would it feel like now if Santi were to fuck him and let Benny or Will fuck his throat? What would it feel like to be truly filled up like that, the way he'd always imagined? His cock twitched against his belly again, still untouched, still pulsing, and he moaned around Santi's cock.

"I think our baby boy needs a little break," Santi murmured softly, "Shh, it's okay, Frankie, it's alright," he slowly pulled his cock from Frankie's lips and allowed him to catch his breath, chest heaving. He felt multiple hands petting his hair, stroking his cheeks, thumbing his temples. Someone brushed one of his nipples, pinched it ever so gently and then did the same to the other one.

"Sweet little things," Will murmured, and that answered that.

"He really is a fucking godsend, Pope," Benny breathed, disbelief and awe playing at the edge of his voice, "Softest mouth I've ever felt."

"His eyes are what get me," Santi replied, and Frankie felt him take his cap off and toss it to the side, then a pair of lips kiss his forehead, "He's got the prettiest brown eyes, look so beautiful when he's got that wet mouth all full."

The way they talked about him, like he wasn't even there, like he was just a toy, something to play with, an object - it was so much. It was too much. He leaned back on his haunches and whimpered, eyes fluttering open as he looked up at his friends, still standing in front of him with their now very wet cocks in their hands.

"Put them on my face," he begged, voice broken and haggard, "All of them, please."

"Fuck," Benny gasped out, and without hesitation he placed the entire length of his cock along Frankie's cheek and forehead, tapping it a few times and hissing, "There you go. There it is, baby boy."

"You go around the other side," Santi told Will, knowing he wouldn't want to touch Benny's cock, "Put yours upside down on his other cheek, I'll go middle."

Benny was still slapping Frankie's face gently with his cock, hissing and groaning out words of praise. Santi slapped his own down across the center of his face, along his nose and lips. His cock settled up against Benny's, and for the shortest of seconds Frankie noted that they rubbed them together without speaking, without looking at each other. Will joined them on the other side, his balls hanging low on Frankie's forehead and his tip jutting out near his chin. Three cocks, side by side, covering their friend's entire face.

"Slap him with them, he likes that," Benny said through gritted teeth, doing it again and again and reveling in the whimpers and whines Frankie was making below them, "Ohhh, he fuckin' loves that."

"I don't think I can last," Will spit, voice more strained than it had been before, "This is too much, I'm gonna blow my whole fuckin' load any minute now."

"No one's stopping you," Santi encouraged, "Doesn't matter when we come, what matters is we do it all over his face. Cover him with it."

"Oh, he's gonna be fuckin' drenched," Benny groaned, eyes closing as he stilled his slapping movements to hold back his own orgasm. His voice was wild now, desperate, "I wanna come in his mouth, I call dibs."

"You hear that, Frankie, baby?" Santi murmured with a sly smile, "Benny called dibs on filling your mouth."

Frankie wouldn't have responded even if he could, just let out another whimpering moan and dropped his jaw, lolled his tongue out so his friends could take turns tapping the heads of their cocks against it. He was covered in precum, felt it dribbling down his chin and forehead, collecting behind his teeth and dripping down the back of his throat.

"Let him suck," Will hissed, "Let him suck mine one more time." At his words, Benny and Santi moved out of the way as best they could, Santi tapping Frankie's eyelid with his cock while Benny smeared more precum into his forehead. They watched as Frankie carefully suckled Will's tip into his mouth, closed his lips around him and hummed.

"Put it in your throat, baby boy," Will told him firmly, "Swallow around it, there you go. Thaaat's a good boy."

Gurgling sounds were coming from Frankie's gag reflex but he didn't stop or pull away, kept doing exactly what he knew Will needed as he swallowed him down. It took barely any time at all for it to be too much for Will to handle, and before any of them knew it he was pulling out and pumping his cock furiously over Frankie's face. Benny and Santi stepped back - they all knew what was coming.

"Don't come in his mouth, I called dibs," Benny warned, and Frankie could have sworn he heard Santiago chuckle.

"Keep your eyes closed, Fish," Will muttered, directly in front of him now as the wet sounds of his fist slipping up and down his cock filled the room, "Gonna paint that pretty little face and those sweet little nipples."

Franke whimpered, keeping his eyes closed as he continued to listen to what was going on around him. He could hear Santi and Benny still jerking themselves a few steps away, but Will's grunts and groans were the most prominent, the most present. And only a few seconds later he felt the first splash of cum hit his face - his left cheek.

"There it is," Santi egged Will on, "There he goes."

Another rope of cum landed on his forehead, dripped down onto his eyebrow. Then another on his chin. He listened as Will let out one more groan, still pumping his cock as he aimed at Frankie's bare chest. He felt two more spurts trickle down both of his nipples, sensitive and hard, and that was it.

"Fuck," Will groaned, satisfaction plain as day in his voice, "Fuck, Frankie."

He opened his eyes and was met with Will's cock, tight in his fist. Without hesitation he leaned forward and brought the tip gently into his mouth, licking off the excess cum as Will brought his hand down to play with Frankie's curls. He sucked for a few seconds, placed a soft kiss to the tip - his favorite spot - and then looked up to meet Will's gaze, a dazed little smile playing on his lips.

"Give it one more little kiss, baby boy," Will murmured, "Just one more." Frankie did as he was told, eyelashes fluttering as he kissed the sticky tip once more, and then Will was backing up to let Santi and Benny back into their spots.

"You're a good boy, Fish," he murmured, tucking himself back into his pants. "Mind if I watch the rest?"

"Please stay," Frankie managed to breathe, and the movement of his face caused some of the cum in his eyebrow to trickle downwards, dipping into the crevice of his nose. Will smiled and nodded, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall to observe.

"Won't be much longer now, Francisco," Santi told him softly, shuffling forward to carefully fill Frankie's mouth again with his dick. He watched with fascination as Frankie slowly bobbed on it, like muscle memory as he breathed evenly through his nose. "M'close. I think Benny's close too."

"You look so fuckin' good with all that cum on your face," Benny told him, voice almost pained, "Gonna look even better with more."

Surprisingly, Frankie pulled off Santi's dick without being told to do so and peered over at Benny with hunger in his eyes, "Can you... can I..." he cut himself off, going bright red as he looked back to Santi for reassurance.

"What is it, baby?" Santi asked softly, brow furrowing, "You good? You need to take a break?"

Frankie shook his head quickly, "N-no, I just...I..." he bit his lip and hoped his sudden idea wasn't about to be shot down, "Can you put them both in at the same time?"

A beat of silence. Then-

"Fuck," Benny groaned, "Fuck, that's hot." There was no doubt in Frankie's mind now that Benny had quite liked having his dick so close to Santi's, so it made him grin when Benny moved forward to stand beside his friend and jut his cock out toward Frankie's mouth.

"Open up, Fish."

Dropping his jaw once again and staring wide eyed up at his teammates, cum still fresh and sticky all over his face, Frankie allowed Benny and Santi to slide both their cocks into his waiting mouth. The feeling was insane. The taste was insane. All masculine and heady and musky and wet, the smell of sweat and raw sex invading his nostrils as they both pushed their dicks further in alongside each other. Frankie felt two hands in his hair, one of Santi's and one of Benny's, holding him still.

"Oh fuck, I need a picture of this," Benny groaned, blinking furiously as he peered down at where he and Santi's dicks jutted out from Frankie's mouth. "Will, grab Pope's camera, I'm serious. I need to remember this."

As Will made his way to the bunks, Frankie continued to blink slowly and languidly, tongue almost lazily swirling along the fat heads of the two big cocks in his mouth. They were dripping everywhere, warm and sticky, layering the back of his tongue with all of their arousal. And he was so fucking overwhelmed.

"Two cocks," Santi breathed, thumbing a bit of Will's cum that had begun to dry on Frankie's cheek, "Two fat cocks for Frankie, huh?"

"Look at how his lips stretch," Benny added, pushing his cock in the tiniest bit further to watch how Frankie's mouth adjusted to the size, "S'like he was made for it."

"He was made for it," Santi agreed softly, pushing some hair out of Frankie's face and tucking it behind his ear, "Huh, Francisco? Were you made for this?"

Another slow blink and an even slower nod, careful not to dislodge the appendages in his mouth. Benny assessed the door Will had left through and then hesitated for a moment before turning to Santi and whispering, "You feel good, Pope," under his breath.

"So do you," Santi replied with a smile, "Y'got a nice dick."

Benny seemed a bit flustered, avoiding Santiago's gaze as he muttered, "Thanks."

Will rejoined them a few seconds later, Santiago's polaroid camera in hand. Frankie watched with pleasure as Will brought the camera over his head and faced it downwards, preparing the shot.

"Chipmunk cheeks," Will murmured fondly, snapping the picture with a smile, "This'll do great for the annual Christmas card, huh boys?" It was a joke of course; they all knew that what was happening right would more than likely never leave the base, but Santi and Benny laughed nonetheless, pushing their cocks just a little bit more into Frankie's mouth.

"He's full," Benny murmured, "All filled up."

"Not entirely," Santi chuckled, "But close enough."

Their teasing words, their smiles and their laughs, it was making Frankie crazy. His untouched cock was still bobbing on its own accord, twitching and dripping as they talked about him like he wasn't even there. He was going to come soon, he just knew it, and the thought alone made him whine around his friend's dicks, his eyes rolling back.

"Shh, it's okay, Francisco," Santi reassured him softly, "Just give us one more minute to enjoy this, okay? Will's gonna take a few more pictures. You just stay still and keep suckin' on those cocks."

"You got this, Fish," Benny murmured, "You can do it, you're a good boy."

I am, Frankie thought to himself as he closed his eyes and heard the snap of another photo, I am a good boy.

Will took two more pictures with the camera so they'd each have one, tugging the polaroids out as they developed and waving them in the air. This was better than any porno magazine they'd ever be able to stow away, something real and raw, perfect spank bank material.

"I want the first one, where his eyes are open," Santi told Will when he was done, "Calling dibs."

"You got it."

Finally, Benny and Santi pulled themselves slowly out of Frankie's mouth, leaving him nothing but a drooling, lightheaded mess on his knees in front of them. He gasped for breath, head going down as he coughed and spluttered. He felt Will's hands patting his back, helping him through it as his chest heaved.

"Gonna come all over that pretty face, Fish," he heard Benny groan, "Open that mouth again, gonna fill it up."

With all the strength he could muster, Frankie tilted his head up and shakily opened his mouth again. His jaw was sore and aching but he knew he could last a little longer, knew he could give his friends what they needed before he collapsed in a heap on the floor. He watched as Benny jerked his cock in front of his face, watched the way his precum bubbled and spilled at the tip before being replaced with ropes and ropes of hot cum. If Benny was known for anything when it came to their little extracurriculars, it was certainly the ridiculous amount of spend he was able to produce.

"Right in the back of his fuckin' throat," he groaned, watching as it spurted into Frankie's open mouth, "Knew I had perfect aim." He redirected the head of his cock to further paint more of Frankie's face, covering him with thick white all over his cheeks and lips. "Don't swallow it, Fish," he managed to moan out, "Keep aaaall of it in there for me like the good boy you are."

A few more spurts along his neck and chest, one more in his mouth, and then Benny was tapping the head of his cock against Frankie's tongue again, watching as the last few drops spilled out onto it. Frankie peered up at him with heavy lids, a low moan emitting from the back of his throat.

"Yeah," Benny breathed, tapping his tongue again, "That's for you, s'all for you." He pulled his cock out and took a step back, nodding toward Santi, "Go ahead, man. I think he's spent."

"He'll be okay," Santi said softly, shuffling in front of Frankie again and pressing the sticky tip of his cock to the corner of his cum-filled mouth, "Huh, baby? Can you last a little longer? Just a few more minutes for me?" Frankie nodded and he smiled, "Open wide, baby boy."

"Come on, I don't want him to swallow it yet," Benny said a little exasperatedly as Santi slipped the head of his cock past Frankie's lips, the tiniest bit of Benny's cum dribbling from the left corner of his mouth.

"He won't swallow," Santi murmured, "He's just gonna get my dick a little wet." He looked up to share a knowing look with Benny, like a little secret between them, and Benny turned bright red.

At his words, Frankie swirled Benny's cum around the head of Santi's cock, coating it in the salty substance. He gazed up into Santi's eyes as he did it, almost like he was silently whispering to him, pleading; I'm ready now, I'm ready for you to give it to me.

"Okay, Francisco," Santi whispered, just for him, "Lo has hecho tan bien." You've done so well.

He pulled out of Frankie with a pornographic squelching sound and began to work Benny's cum and Frankie's saliva up and down the length of his cock, still staring directly into Frankie's deep brown eyes. He bit down on his bottom lip, brows furrowing as he brought himself closer and closer to the edge.

"Ask for it," he said quietly, edged with something unhinged.

"Please," Frankie breathed, voice garbled and muffled by the cum in his mouth and the ache in his throat, "Please come on me, Santi."

And that was enough.

"Mierda," Santi groaned out, stomach tensing as his thick cock twitched in his grasp. Frankie didn't close his eyes this time, kept them locked onto Santi's as cum drenched his face. It splashed along his cheek and nose in short bursts, dripped down his neck and collected in the corners of his mouth. Without being able to help it, he popped his mouth open one final time to allow Santi to add more cum to the cocktail on his tongue.

"Christ," Will muttered a few steps away, "Would ya look at that?"

"This," Benny sighed, a smile in his voice, "This is what we needed. Fuck Redfly, man."

In any other circumstance Santiago probably would have smacked Benny on the back of the head for disrespecting the team leader, but he was a little more than preoccupied at the moment. He was still staring down into Frankie's eyes, lost in a daze as Frankie tugged him back into his mouth with his tongue and sucked the last remaining spurt of cum from the tip of his cock.

"C'mere, watch him swallow," Santi gestured for the others to join him, and they all resumed their positions in front of Frankie with heavy lidded eyes as they watched him suck.

"Show us first," Benny murmured, "Come on, Fish, show us what's in your mouth, huh?"

Releasing Santi's cock with a pop, Frankie carefully opened his mouth to show his friends the pool of cum swirling on his tongue, dripping down into the soft pockets of his cheeks. Practically in awe, they all stared as he played with it, twisted his tongue back and forth and moving the thick globs of cum from one side of his mouth to the other.

"Swallow," Santi whispered, and Frankie obeyed.

It felt like heaven going down his throat, thick and warm. His eyes rolled a little, tongue darting behind his teeth to lick any that he'd missed, swallowing again and then dropping his jaw to show them his clean tongue, mouth empty.

"Good boy."

They stood there in silence for a moment, almost in reverence. Frankie was a mess, covered in three thick loads of spend and still on his knees with his cock bobbing against his stomach. He was so aroused it was almost painful, the head of his cock pulsing along with his heartbeat as he waited for an order, a command. He whined a little, waiting for someone to do something.

"Untie him," Santi finally told Benny with a smirk, "I think he's ready now."

Ready was an understatement. So much of an understatement in fact that Benny had barely brushed against Frankie's hands to untie the string when Frankie was suddenly letting out the loudest moan of the night, high and unbridled and full of pleasured desperation. Benny practically ripped the string from his hands to turn around and get a better look, watching with wide eyes as Frankie started to come with his cock completely untouched.

It was truly a sight to behold. His three friends stood frozen with their eyes glued to Frankie's cock as it bobbed and twitched of it's own accord, slapped repeatedly against his own stomach and dipped into his belly button. They watched as thick ropes of cum began to spill from his weeping tip, painting his stomach and chest, his chin, the floor. His balls shivered and tightened, more spurting out again and again as he writhed and shook on his knees, making the most pathetic little sounds as his eyes rolled.

Four loads now.

They were all in shock. They'd known he could do it, had felt him come in his pants untouched more than enough times at that point to know it was possible for him. But Christ, they'd never seen anything like it.

The room went silent as Frankie caught his breath, as he came down from his untouched orgasm and his loud outburst. They all watched as his cock continued to twitch with aftershocks, Benny letting out a soft groan when a little more cum dribbled from the tip. And then it was over.

More silence, save for Frankie's gasps and whimpers. And then Will took a step forward.

"Thank you, Fish," he told him earnestly, patting him on the shoulder and squeezing it gently, "That was... fuck. Thank you. You're fuckin' incredible."

Frankie looked up at him through fluttering lashes and nodded with a small smile, and then Will disappeared back to the bunks.

Benny was next. He got down on Frankie's level and came face to face with him, a grin on his face, "You're so pretty, Frank," he told him softly, "And you did so good. S'at what you needed?" Frankie nodded and Benny ruffled his hair a little bit, "Thanks, man. Thank you. We're gonna kill it tomorrow."

He followed his brother back to the bunks, leaving just Frankie and Santi alone together. Just like Benny had, Santi kneeled down to meet Frankie at eye level, picking up his cap along the way and carefully placing it on top of Frankie's head with a smile.

"Did I do good?" Frankie asked him softly, voice hoarse.

Santiago smiled even wider, pulled the cap down a bit further and murmured, "Si, Francisco. Perfecto."

A sleepy and sated grin lit up Frankie's cum-coated face. He could still feel everything, the thick layer of spend on his cheeks and chest, his slowly softening cock, the ache in his jaw - and he loved all of it. It felt right. So fucking right.

"Can you take a picture?" he suddenly asked, eyes alight, "Of me? Like this? I wanna... I wanna keep it. To remember it."

Santi's eyes softened even more, hand coming up to gently stroke Frankie's bare shoulder, "I can do that."

Santi grabbed the polaroid camera, held it front of his face and peered down at Frankie with a fond smile as his friend looked up at him softly, tiredly. "Show me those eyes, Francisco," he murmured, and Frankie halted the fluttering of his lashes to give the camera his ultimate fucked-out expression, a smile playing at his lips. The camera flashed and Santi pulled out the developed picture, waving it in the air as he settled back down in front of Frankie.

"Look at all this," he murmured softly, reaching up to gently thumb a bit of the cum on Frankie's face and scoop it carefully into his friend's mouth. Frankie sucked Santi's thumb with ease, sleepy and docile.

"S'yours," Frankie breathed when Santi pulled it back out.

Santi raised an eyebrow, "Mine?"

"What you just put in my mouth," Frankie clarified with a flush to his cheeks, "That was yours."

"You can tell?"

Frankie nodded with a soft chuckle, "Yeah, I can tell you all apart."

And if that wasn't the hottest thing Santiago had ever heard in his life.

Getting up from the floor was a bit of a task, but Santi helped him every step of the way. He lead Frankie to the showers where he let him lean against the wall, let him bask in the warmth of the hot water and the feeling of soap and shampoo as Santi worshipped him in a different way, a new way. Pressed kisses to his temples and his forehead, took his time lathering Frankie's arms and legs, gently cleaned his coated face and spent cock. And when he was done, Santi wrapped him in a towel and brought him back to his bunk, laid beside him and kissed him slow and deep until it felt like all that existed was just the two of them, nobody else.

He'd placed the polaroid in Frankie's bedside table and stroked his hair, murmured those familiar soft and gentle praises as he drifted to sleep.

Needless to say, their first mission was a success.

You're lying down with him now. It's well past midnight, moonlight streaming in through your bare-bones new bedroom as you peer at him quietly from under your lashes. He looks tired - he's been talking for over an hour now.

"There's more," he murmurs, eyes drooping, "More happened after that, a lot more, but I-"

"You've told me more than enough," you whisper, "You've been so honest, Frankie." Your thumb comes up to stroke his cheek, your mouth turning up slightly at the corners when his eyes start to close, "Thank you for telling me about that."

He hums, breathes deeply as sleep slowly starts to find him. You can't help but stare at him, watch his face turn peaceful, the lines in the corners of his eyes smoothing out, his full lips relaxing into a natural frown. He's so beautiful. He's so.... good.

You think of him back then, the way he probably used to be. So unsure, so new to the real world and so close to facing things he'd never anticipated. You picture him lying in his bunk with Will above him, Santi and Benny beside him, Tom somewhere else, somewhere distant - it makes sense now. It all makes sense.

And now he's lying in his own bed, in his own house, years later - with you. You, the only thing you think has really made sense to him for a long time, the only thing that's helped him overcome some of life's worst obstacles, the pain and the trauma from the shit he's dealt with throughout his life.

But despite all of this, despite the past few years you've spent together, you suddenly can't help but wonder where he'd be right now if you hadn't met.

Would he be in Santiago's bed?

You slip out from under the blankets and grab your phone from your nightstand, making sure to turn out the light before heading to the kitchen. Your nostrils are met with the smell of fresh paint and leftover chow mein as you flick on the overhead and settle yourself on one of the stools at the kitchen island.

Unsure exactly why, you unlock your phone and scroll through your contacts, biting your lip as you search for Santiago's name. When you finally find it, you tap on it, feeling something odd sink in your heart when you see the lack of messages. You've never texted him? Not even once? You lean back and try to think of the last time you even had a conversation alone with him without Frankie or the others there, just a one-on-one interaction... and you come up blank.

He'd been such a huge part of Frankie's life. And still is now - still sees him on weekends, goes to games and bars, came over to the old apartment for drinks and dinner pretty regularly. He's been there for Frankie in ways you never could have imagined or guessed, took care of him and comforted him, would probably take a bullet for him - hell, he actually might've for all you know.

You look back down at your phone and stare at the blank space where words should be, feel that guilt from earlier rise in your chest and make a home in the form of a lump in your throat.

You start typing out a message.

#frankie morales fic #frankie morales smut #frankie morales x triple frontier boys #PPCUGiftExchange2024 #frankie morales x reader #*

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giannaln4 · 3 months

Text

Away For Valentine's

lando norris x fem reader

summary: McLaren had the fantastic idea to launch their car on Valentine's day, and as much as you reassured Lando he didn't have to worry about it, he still wanted to make it up to you (1k words)

warnings: none, just fluff

a/n: heyy everyone! so this is the very first fic i'm posting so please let me know what you think! i'm honestly pretty excited to get started with this blog so hopefully you guys like what i write. anyway please send some ideas my way!

↺ back to navigation — send me a request!

Valentine’s Day was off the table this year, and so was everything you had planned for you and your boyfriend.

You were disappointed when he shared the news with you, but you couldn’t be mad at him, not when it wasn’t his fault.

He saw the disappointment in your face, and how much you were trying to hide it by just smiling and nodding, your head finding a spot on his shoulder to avoid eye contact. He appreciated you understanding the situation, like you always did, but that didn’t mean he didn’t feel guilty.

“I know we had plans-”

“Lan, don’t worry about it” You took a deep breath before looking at him again, trying to get rid of the sadness in your face “I mean it, we can do that some other time”

He was about to say something but a quick kiss on the lips stopped him. You proceeded to look at him, offering him a small smile and a glance that he knew meant ‘I don’t wanna talk about it’, so just nodded as he smiled back.

A few weeks go by and his winter break was coming to an end, meaning soon he’d have to leave the comfort of your shared home and go get started with his preseason duties. That’s something you were used to, having to see him leave for long periods of times but it barely ever affected your relationship. He always made sure he made enough time for you, even when the time difference was huge and he was feeling tired most of the time, he needed to make time for you. Your love for each other was so strong that, at the end of the day, you were just relieved you still had each other even if all you had was a five minute call every day.

But still, sometimes it was hard to see him go, and this time was one of those times.

The night you knew would be your last one with him before he left he decided to take you out on a date. Fancy clothes and an even fancier restaurant were your plans for the evening, and you knew he was trying to make up for Valentine's Day. It wasn’t the same, of course it wasn’t, but you still enjoyed every second of it.

The food, the small talk, the jokes, the stupid stories, the shy glances, the small touches, everything was perfect, almost making you forget he was getting on a plane in a matter of hours, but your smile slowly faded as soon as you remembered.

The ride back home was quieter than he would’ve liked, but he knew exactly what was going through your mind, and honestly he couldn’t blame you cause his mind was flooded with the same thoughts.

As soon as you got home he ran around the car and opened the door for you, offering his hand and kissing yours as soon as he took it. You smiled softly at him and you made your way to the door. Once you were inside, you dropped his hand to take off your shoes and tossed them somewhere close to the door, sighing in relief as you started walking towards your room.

“Mhm, come back here” He whispered as he grabbed your hand and pulled you back into him

“There you are” Lando smiled softly at you as his lips found yours. After a moment he broke the kiss, and both of his hands found a better spot on your waist as he started to move along the off-tune song he started to hum. You couldn’t contain your smile, quickly trying to keep up with him. You moved together in a slow dance, it was like your bodies were in perfect harmony.

Lando was looking down at you in pure admiration, almost as if he was trying to memorize every centimeter of your face so he wouldn't forget it while he was away, but you didn’t dare to look up, scared you would make eye contact with Lando and you wouldn’t be able to take it, so you safe option was to rest your head on his chest and pray you didn’t mess up. Although it wouldn’t matter if you did, you were just in the comfort of your living room anyway. But you didn’t wanna mess up.

He eventually stopped humming, hoping the silence would encourage you to look at him, but when you didn’t he moved one of his hands to cup your check, making you look at him. For a moment your eyes lock, making the silence feel very loud and Lando couldn’t help but smile at you, and you immediately blushed, but tried to play it off.

“You’re a terrible dancer” He laughed and you narrowed your eyes playfully and softly hit his shoulder.

“You’re one to talk” You joked, locking your fingers behind his neck and giggling when Lando scoffed.

“Maybe we should go out to dance and I could show you all of my moves” He started to move again, bringing you closer to him.

“I thought you didn’t like slow dancing”

“I do if I get to hold you this close to me” He replied, once again finding your lips.

This time the kiss was longer, both of them savoring each other’s lips while they still had the chance “I’m sorry about Valentine’s” He whispered once he pulled away, your forehead resting on his.

You giggled at this. You had assured him a million times he didn’t have to worry about that, and he still apologized every time he remembered “You need to stop apologizing”

“But I am sorry”

“I know, but it’s not your fault” You hand fell on his hair, slowly stroking his soft curls “And I had a great time tonight, so I’d say love is not dead”

He laughed at his, dimples appearing as his eyes vanish for a moment “I still wanna make it up to you”

“You will” You replied as your head fell back on his chest “But for now I just wanna enjoy this” You closed your eyes and inhaled his scent, and after a moment of complete silence you can feel him start moving again, his soft hums interrupting the peace his heartbeat was giving you.

#giannaln4 writes #lando norris #ln4 #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris one shot #lando norris fluff #lando norris smut #f1 #formula 1 #f1 x reader

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nana-au · 24 days

Text

Best Friend Activities

Eren + Armin + You - MDNI

₊˚ପ⊹ Summary: Armin is a virgin and Eren enlists you to help out his best friend. Why is he watching? To make sure he’s doing a good job, of course.

(Dom!Eren, Virgin!Armin, Sub!Reader)

₊˚ପ⊹ an: Eren brings out something feral within me. I'm so sorry. Not proofread!!!

₊˚ପ⊹ wc: 3.2k

₊˚ପ⊹ Warnings: mmf pairing, threesome, slight manipulation, breeding/pregnancy kink, mentions of public sex, f receiving! oral, p in v (no protection <3)

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ

Eren Jaeger was so skilled when it came to getting you all wrapped up in his dangerous plans. There was one time he convinced you to skip class to see a movie. Or another time when you two snuck into a bar before your 21st birthday. It made you blush, but you often thought about the time he fingered you in your college’s library a week before finals. His mouth open and hot against yours as you tried to breathe through the pleasure. His fingers sliding in and out, creating the lewdest noise as he shamed your wet pussy for being so loud - Every day with him was eventful to say the least. It shouldn’t have shocked you when Eren tracked you down on your way to class one day with the news of his next venture. He was a good boyfriend, allowing you time to think about it during your geology lecture.

Armin Arlert - Eren’s childhood best friend. Your face felt hot as the professor droned about naturally occurring crystal formations, you weren’t entirely convinced it was English he was speaking - you were that out of it. Armin. Armin. Armin. Your brain chanted. You were used to Eren’s ideas of a good time but this? This was new.

“I can’t let my best friend graduate college as a virgin! You understand right?” He had that smooth yet exasperated tone while explaining the dilemma. “You’re like nothing I’ve ever had,” he gave you his puppy dog eyes, “You’re the only one I trust to help my best friend with this,” He made it sound so nonchalant, like everyone fucks their boyfriend’s best friend. He noticed your hesitance as you breached the doors of your school’s science department, stopping you before your classroom door. “I’ve never led you down the wrong path, have I?”

You bit your lip, his final words echoing in your mind. He was always so selfless, putting himself before others. He was offering up his girlfriend to make sure his friend’s first time was a positive experience. How could you be the one to cut his streak of charitability short?

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ

Throughout the day you felt more and more positive about what was going to happen - that was until you were in Eren’s bedroom with Armin at the edge of his bed. The blonde was fidgeting with his hands, you could tell he was just as unsure as you were.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this, Eren?” He asked him, giving him the option to back out. He would be lying if he wasn’t interested in you - hell, the whole school was. It seemed to be a weekly occurrence where Eren had to protect you from another man’s attention - it was nerve-wracking how Eren was so nonchalant about sharing you with him now.

“I’m Positive, ‘Min,” his smile was soft and sincere. Armin couldn’t hide the shiver that wracked across his spine. “You don’t mind, right Armin?” he shook his head fervently to Eren, biting down on his bottom lip as he searched for the right words. “I just recalled our talk way back when,” Eren was leaning back against his dresser, arms crossed and demeanor overtaken by cockiness as he continued, “When we first met her?” he spoke like you weren’t there. You were still by the door, rubbing your arms to soothe yourself from your nerves. Your eyebrows quirked at his mention of you, looking at Armin whose face grew even redder. “Do you remember, ‘Min?”

“Y-Yeah,” his voice quivers and his eyes won't move from a spot on the ground.

“What talk?” you speak up. Eren finally turns to you, his teeth peaking out of his smirk.

“Armin, do you want to tell her?” The blonde is speechless, you can see a light sheen of sweat on his features as he looks up to Eren. He shakes his head again, you can almost feel the anxiety that radiates off of him. “It’s okay, she’s here isn’t she? She won’t laugh. Right? You won’t laugh?” he addresses you and you’re forced to agree to soothe Armin. “Go on ‘Min,” he assures him. You move towards him, feeling on edge seeing someone you knew so well be so nervous. He won’t meet your eyes so you chose to sit next to him, putting your hand on his back.

“It’s okay,” you promise him. Silence follows your words and after a couple of minutes Eren decides to put an end to his misery.

“’s really no big deal, he just wanted to fuck you,” you can feel Armin’s body jump from the vulgar choice of words. He wouldn’t have put it so harshly. Before you and Eren were official, Armin had said he wouldn’t mind getting to know you better. He may have also mentioned you were the first girl he ever really felt sexual feelings for. But, again, that was before you and Eren. In this moment, with Eren teasing him and you trying to comfort him, jumping out of the window didn’t sound like a terrible idea.

“I-I mentioned that you were really pretty,” he was trying so desperately to recover but the taller boy would never allow it.

“It’s okay Armin- she doesn’t mind. Seriously,” You nodded along to Eren’s words, starting to feel a little flushed yourself. “You want to fuck him now, right?” you now were on the hot seat, enduring his questioning.

“I agreed to help with his p-problem,” you were even beginning to stutter too. God what was Eren going to do with the two of you? He hovered over your figures on the edge of his bed, watching his best friend and girlfriend squirm at his words.

“Then don’t let me stop you,” You couldn’t move at first, unsure as to what you should even do. He chuckled and reached his hand up your skirt. “Do you need some help getting ready?” his finger looped into your panties and pulled them down to your thighs. You could feel his slender digit nudge your entrance. You hissed at what he found. “Armin, she’s already wet for you,” he laughs incredulously. The blonde finally finds it in himself to move, shifting his body to get a better look. Eren grabs the top of your skirt, pulling it up to your stomach so you were on full display to his friend. He looked shocked. Maybe excited? You were too busy trying not to close your legs at the intrusion to get a good read. “Go ahead, feel,” Eren invites him. He’s hesitant at first, meeting your eyes to make sure it was ok with you. You meekly nod before feeling his cold finger against you. He looks surprised, feeling your slickness on his finger. He nudges the tip of his index against your entrance, probing the velvety skin. “Put it inside,” Eren encourages and you don’t even wait for Armin to check if it’s ok before you are nodding enthusiastically. His soft digit glides into your pussy and he watches, mesmerized by the image in front of him. He can feel the ridges of your walls against his finger and he definitely feels you squeeze around him.

“Fuck,” he murmurs. He pulls it all the way out, watching the way your arousal trails to his finger. Your eyes are wide as you watch him fall in love with your pussy, and Eren pets your head muttering to himself. You’re such a good girl, letting him explore you. He knew you would be perfect for the job.

“Do you see her clit?” he asks his friend. “Girls really like it when you play with that,” he advises him. Armin moves his finger up to your clit and your body jolts at sudden harsh feeling. “Rub it gently. In circles.” and Armin obeys. You feel your pussy clench around nothing, incredibly aroused by Armin’s intense interest in your intimate areas. His face was not unsimilar to how it looks when he studies; His brows furrowed in concentration and his jaw was slightly clenched. He wasn’t meeting your gaze, too transfixed on what was happening below. You let out a small mewl, his finger barely ghosting on your clit making it hard to think.

“What should I do next?” Armin asks Eren.

“What do you want to do next?”

“I want to eat her pussy,”

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ

You were now at the top of the bed with your head underneath a pillow and your pussy enduring Eren’s lesson. He taught him how to swirl his tongue on your clit, how to delve the muscle into your entrance, and that you loved being teased with kitten licks. It felt almost professional the way they talked about your pussy - like you weren’t there. Like it wasn’t attached to you and you weren’t actively moaning at each flick of Armin’s tongue. Eren held down your thighs to keep you from squishing Armin’s head between them, still guiding him on what to do. “Use your finger on her clit again,” he instructed and your legs shivered. His tongue was keeping a steady rhythm in and out of you while his thumb reached up to rub delicious circles on your bundle of nerves. Eren looked proud watching him make you fall apart. “Keep going Armin, she’s gonna cum.” He picked the pace up, and consequently your hips started to rise off the bed. Armin’s face had your pleasure smeared across it as you bucked and pushed your pussy further against his mouth. You were losing control, begging Armin to go faster. “You want Armin to make you cum?” Eren asks you and you cry out a yes. “Armin is making you feel good baby?” and again you are saying yes.

“Yes, yesss. Mmm. I’m gon’ cum,'' you announce and Eren watches as you fall apart with his friend’s face attached to your pussy. When you come down and after a few more gentle licks, Armin’s head pops out from between your legs and he looks dazed. His lower face glistens with your fluid and his mouth heaves trying to take in much needed breaths. He barely gives himself time to process before he’s already wanting to be inside of you.

“Is that ok, Eren?” he asks, even though he’s not sure what he would do if the answer was no. Eren nods, but adjusts your position to be on top of him. He has you propped against his chest as he sits up against the headboard. The dizziness of making you cum fades once he realizes what he’s about to do, growing unsure of himself.

“What’s wrong?” Eren inquires and Armin can’t hold back a blush. Scratching the back of his head, he stares down at the two of you. “Look at her Armin, she wants you too,” and he’s right. You are squirming on top of Eren, your body anticipating what was about to come. Eren makes a show of grabbing your tits still under your shirt. He tweaks at the nipple, keeping his gaze on his friend.

“You won’t be mad?” It was a silly question to ask after he ate you out like a starving man, but he couldn’t help it. Eren didn’t want to admit his reasons were entirely selfish. He loved spilling his seed inside of you, promising one day to give you his kids. He loved watching you squirm as he edged you for hours, reducing you to tears and snot as you begged for release. He especially loved seeing you reach your peak in public, the idea of being caught incredibly arousing to him. He loved how you would do anything he asked of you; He was absolutely going to love you taking his best friend so good for him. All he could do was shake his head ‘No’ for now.

Armin undoes his belt, hands shaking as he pulls his pants down - his briefs joining after a moment of silent contemplation. His cock slaps against his stomach, the tip angry with fat drops of precum spilling out of it. It’s fairly long, but not as thick as Eren’s. He crawls on the bed to join you two. His breath is shaky, looking down at you, and he can't help but squeeze the base of his length before gliding his hand up and down. Eren’s own hand reaches down to your pussy, playing with your entrance again.

“I’ll warm her up for it,” he tells Armin, sliding his middle and ring finger inside of you. You whine at the intrusion and he curls them inside you. He wastes no time hitting the spot that makes you throw your head back. “Kiss her, ‘Min,” he orders him. Your pink lips are wet with your spit and your eyes are half-open, lost in the feeling of Eren’s fingers. You ask Armin to kiss you when he doesn’t move at first. When his lips hit yours, Eren picks up the speed. You’re moaning - struggling to keep your lips pursed. The kiss is wet and sloppy and Armin is stroking himself a little faster listening to the squelch of your pussy. “I think she’s ready,” and Armin doesn’t allow himself another moment to reconsider.

He pulls away from the kiss, lining himself up to you, and pushing himself in. He doesn’t acknowledge that you might need a moment to adjust, he just buries himself all the way in, his voice straining, “Oh shit”. You let out a sharp moan, feeling him bully his way into your tight cunt. Once he’s in he can’t help himself from moving. You can also feel Eren rocking against your backside, matching the rhythm of his best friend’s cock going in and out of your sopping pussy. His pupils are blown out, enamored by the scene in front of him. He pulls your legs back to try and get a better look, causing Armin to go deeper than before. The both of you moan simultaneously at the new angle, your gummy walls massaging his dick perfectly, the head reaching the spot that makes you see stars. You’re completely out of it, drool seeping onto Eren’s shirt as your head rested against his chest. Eren doesn’t even notice - too entranced. Armin’s perfect cock pulls out of you, glistening with your slick, before pounding itself right back in. “It feels t-too good. I can’t last much l-longer..” his moans are high pitched - he completely lost himself in the feeling of your pussy taking him so perfectly. “F-fuck. You’re too perfect,” he hisses, choking out sobs. He’s so overstimulated by how tight you’re squeezing him, how everytime he pulls out your pussy desperately clings to his cock. And the noise - he will never forget the noise. You are so wet - your arousal now leaking down your thighs and smearing itself all over his balls.

“Cum in her, I don’t mind,” Eren promises. Armin picks up speed and he’s completely lost now. His moans are more like pathetic whines. He’s praising your pussy, thanking his best friend for allowing him to cum inside of you. Allowing you to milk his cock so perfectly. He rocks into you a few more times before he reaches impossibly deep, spilling his load. Eren wonders if it's dangerous for his cock to be this hard. You’re clawing at Eren’s thighs and Armin is crying out. He continues to cum, his dick twitching as his semen sprays your walls. He was babbling out a prayer as he came, thanking every deity he could think of that could have possibly made your pussy so perfect. Once Armin finally pulls off of you, his chest heaves, watching some of his fluid spill out of your perfect center. Eren’s fingers reach down to plug you up and Armin could have passed out at the filthiness of it all. “I gotta make sure it all stays in,” he tells Armin. He’s pulling down his sweatpants with his other hand, careful not to move the one keeping Armin’s cum buried in your hole. He shifts underneath you, making it so you’re laying now. “I think my dick would work better keeping it in,” he comments, mainly to himself. You’re squirming on top of him, excited for his thick cock to replace his fingers. He barges in as roughly as Armin - desperate to feel you squeeze his whole length. He makes quick work - fucking Armin’s children back up inside of you. “You think she can hold both of our loads, ‘Min?” Armin’s mouth is almost on the floor listening to his best friend’s dirty talk. “Fuck-” Eren can’t help but curse out. From his friend’s perspective he could see a mixture of fluids build at the base of Eren’s cock, creating a ring around it. The squelching sounds were overwhelming - along with your constant breathy moans. You were completely drunk off of their cocks. They were in awe with how well you took them - how good the attention of your pussy felt. Armin felt himself growing semi-hard, almost jealous Eren was feeling the heaven he just felt. You were truly an angel. “C’mere and rub her clit,” Eren spat out another order that Armin would be too stupid not to follow. He sat at the side of you two, his fingers reaching your nub.

You choked out a sob, “‘Min, you’re s-so good at that,” and he truly was. His fingers were soft and fast and he knew just the right speed to get your pussy clenching on Eren’s cock.

“G-god beautiful. You like him playing with your pretty pussy? Fuck! Squeezing me so tight. ‘M gonna cum inside you. Give you a baby, would ‘ya like that? Gonna breed you so good. All with Armin’s help, huh?” You're lost in his words, his cock - Armin’s delicate fingers. You come loud - you begin crying and reaching for Armin’s hand. He smacks it away, continuing his assault on your clit as Eren pounds into you. One arm is holding you down against him, the other spreading your left thigh open to make you take him well. He’s praising you, “Fuck- this tight pussy baby… ‘feels so good. Want me to come? Want me to mix our loads? Won’t know whose baby it is” His hair is flat against his forehead, almost completely covering his eyes. He can still see though, he’s watching his best friend relentlessly rub your clit and holding your hands so you can’t stop him. He’s overstimulated by the sight and his dick is twitching while rope after rope of cum shoots out of him and into your perfect pussy.

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ

The two boys take their time cleaning you up - not before they spend even longer watching their mixture spill out of you. They both take their turns shoving it back inside of you before watching it dribble out of you again. Armin can’t help himself from teasing your clit a few more times while Eren’s finger plays with the juices falling out of you. He teaches Armin a thing or two about the importance of aftercare, and the two of them clean you up in the bath.

Whilst watching Armin soap up your body Eren heavily considers making this a weekly occurrence.

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pucksandpower · 8 months

Note

I have an idea for the Grid Kiiiiiids. They all try to start teaching their sister to drive a kart 🥹 up to you how old she is when they start lol but you know Max and Charles especially want that girl in a kart ASAP

Grid Kids: Little Racer

Sebastian Vettel x wife!Reader x platonic!drivers

Summary: the grid kids can’t wait to take their sister karting

Series Masterlist

Lando looks particularly proud as he rubs his hands together. “Alright, we got the best present for her. Trust us, she’s going to love it!”

George nods enthusiastically, “It’s honestly the best thing ever. A bit of an investment for her future, you know?”

Max, trying to hide a grin, chips in, “And it’ll give her a head start in racing.”

You raise an eyebrow suspiciously, “What did you boys do?”

Charles can barely contain his excitement. “Just open the garage and see!”

You slowly make your way to the garage with growing trepidation, the grid kids practically bouncing on their feet behind you. When you open the door, there, in all its glory, sits a shiny new kart, complete with racing stripes and a custom-made helmet with your daughter’s initials.

Your jaw drops. “She’s one! She can barely even walk! What is she going to do with a kart?”

Lance, looking a little defensive, offers up ideas, “Well, she can ... sit in it? Look cute? Take photos for Instagram?”

George chimes in, “It’s never too early to get them started, right? I mean, she’s got the genes for it.”

“Think of it as a ... decorative statement piece for now? Then, in a few years, she can actually use it,” Mick suggests.

You can’t help but chuckle at their over-the-top enthusiasm. “You guys ... she’ll probably be more interested in the cardboard box it came in than the actual kart itself right now.”

Lando pouts, “Well, when you put it like that ...”

You laugh, “Thank you. It’s a very thoughtful gift. But we’re going to have to save it for when she’s a bit older.”

Max smirks, “By a bit older, you mean like five, right?”

You shake your head, exasperated by your impressively stubborn sons but always grateful for how much they love their sister. “We’ll see.”

***

Four years later, the sound of shattering glass pierces the quiet night. In an instant, you’re on your feet, grabbing a baseball bat from the corner of your room. Sebastian, equally alarmed, snatches up a table lamp from his nightstand, wielding it like some sort of medieval weapon.

As you both stealthily approach the main room, you hear muffled whispers.

“Why did you have to step on the vase, Max!” George hisses.

“It was dark! And Lando pushed me,” Max retorts defensively.

Lando protests, “Did not!”

You round the corner, brandishing your bat and glaring at the intruders. “What are you doing in here?”

The grid kids freeze like deer caught in headlights, Lando holding a giant Happy 5th Birthday balloon, Charles cradling a shiny new helmet, and Mick holding a small cake with five candles.

Max tries to salvage the situation with a sheepish grin, “Well, you did say she could start karting when she turned five. We just wanted to be the first to take her.”

Lance points to the clock on the wall that now reads 12:03 AM, “Technically, she’s five now.”

You sigh, lowering your bat, a smile slowly forming. “You guys are ridiculous.”

Sebastian chuckles as he puts the lamp down, “At least wait till morning. And next time, maybe use the door? You all have keys for a reason.”

Charles grins brightly, “Where’s the fun in that?”

Lando glances at the broken vase and nudges a shard of ceramic with his toe. “Sorry about that. We’ll get you a new one.”

You shake your head with a laugh. “Just ... go home. We’ll see you at a more reasonable hour.”

Mick winks with a cheeky smile, “How about 7 AM? Sounds reasonable to me.”

You groan, ushering them out. “Go, before I change my mind about the karting!”

As the door closes behind them, you and Sebastian share a laugh. The grid kids never fail to bring some chaos into your lives.

***

The morning sun is just starting to peek through the curtains when you hear the soft hum of engines outside your window. Rubbing your eyes, you sit up and glance at the clock. 6:57 AM. “Seriously?” You mutter under your breath.

The doorbell rings and the soft hum now sounds suspiciously like the familiar excited murmurs of multiple voices.

You throw on a robe and head downstairs, opening the door to find the grid kids, all in their race suits, clustered on your front porch. Behind them, a trailer holds the tiny kart, polished to a shine and adorned with a large bow.

Max declares, “Told you we’d be back!”

Charles holds out a tray of coffee, “We brought reinforcements.”

George steps forward, a picnic basket in hand. “And breakfast! We figured that after all the excitement, you might be hungry.”

Lando bounces like a hyperactive puppy. “So, is she ready? We’ve got the whole day planned out!”

Sebastian, now also at the door in his pajamas, chuckles, “Let the poor girl wake up first.”

Mick is holding a small helmet and gloves. “We’ve got everything she needs.”

“We even have a little race suit for her.” Lance shows off the preschooler-sized suit, complete with the German flag and her name. “We got it customized and everything!”

You can’t help but join in on their enthusiasm. “Alright, alright. Just give us a minute to get her up and ready.”

The grid kids cheer, high-fiving each other.

As you head back inside, Sebastian wraps an arm around your shoulders. “You know, for a group of the most elite drivers in the world, they sure get excited about kiddie karting.”

You smile back, “That’s what makes it all the more special.”

***

You tiptoe into your daughter’s room, finding her sprawled out on the bed among a sea of stuffed animals. Sebastian follows closely behind, his excitement barely contained.

“You do the honors,” you whisper, motioning to the tiny alarm clock on her nightstand.

Sebastian nudges the clock and it lets out a soft rendition of a race car engine revving. Your daughter stirs, her little eyes slowly blinking open.

“Vroom vroom,” she murmurs drowsily, pushing herself up with a yawn.

“Morning, sunshine,” you greet, brushing a stray hair from her face. “Ready for your big day?”

She beams, “Karting day?”

Sebastian chuckles, “That’s right! And you’ve got a whole pit crew waiting for you downstairs.”

Her eyes widen in excitement, “Brothers are here?”

You nod, “Bright and early. They couldn’t wait.”

She practically jumps out of bed, “Let’s go! Let’s go! Let’s go!”

Downstairs, the grid kids are in a frenzy of activity, making last-minute checks on the kart, packing snacks, and discussing strategies.

“You sure she doesn’t need a quick racing line tutorial?” Lando asks, pointing at some scribbles on a whiteboard.

Max rolls his eyes, “She’s five, mate.”

“Exactly. The perfect age to start,” Lando retorts.

Your daughter giggles as Charles lifts her onto his shoulders, “Look at you, future world champ!”

George hands her a small helmet, “Safety first!”

She tries it on and it slips down half of her head.

“Maybe we’ll adjust that,” Mick chuckles, helping to resize the straps.

Once everything is packed and ready, the convoy sets off for the track. Your daughter, sandwiched between Lando and George, is treated to a hilariously exaggerated commentary of their drive.

“Watch that apex! Oh no, a dramatic overtake by that ... minivan?” Lando narrates, making your daughter giggle uncontrollably.

At the track, the grid kids swarm around, setting up the kart, unloading equipment, and securing the area.

Lance kneels in front of your daughter. “Now, remember, it’s all about having fun, okay? But also ... don’t crash.”

She giggles, “Okay, Lancey.”

Charles takes her hand, leading her to the kart. “Ready to hop in?”

She nods eagerly, and with a little help, she’s seated and ready.

With the helmet securely in place and the engine purring softly, she looks up at you and Sebastian with big, excited eyes.

“Remember, slow and steady,” you call out, giving her a thumbs-up.

She revs the engine, and under the watchful eyes of her brothers, begins to kart for the first time.

As she makes her way around the track, the grid kids cheer raucously and even get a bit teary-eyed. The sight of the little kart zooming around, driven by your fearless daughter, is a memory none of you will forget.

When she finally finishes her laps and the engine dies down, the grid kids rush over, lifting her into the air in celebration.

Lando, panting from excitement as if he were the one driving, declares, “Best. Day. Ever!”

Your daughter is grinning from ear to ear. “Can we do it again tomorrow?”

Sebastian pulls you close as you watch your children make plans to kart together soon. “Looks like we’ve got another racer in the family.”

Your heart melts when you see the look of pure joy on your daughter’s face as she’s surrounded by her brothers. “Formula 1 better watch out.”

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little-miss-dilf-lover · 1 month

Note

I know you've written something similar with Bucky hearing the heartbeat of his unborn child buy what if the reader and Bucky weren't in an established relationship in fact the two don't really get a long at all but they hooked up once and Rayleigh got pregnant. After a mission they end up in a safe house and Bucky realizes that he's hearing the heartbeat of their unborn child

hii!! I did change some things, hope that’s okay (about the hearing heartbeats as don’t think he can do that) but I love the idea!! other fic is HERE. thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

FIVE WEEKS SINCE.

bucky barnes x fem!reader — fluff/ angst?

word count. 957

Over a month ago, you and Bucky made the mistake of sharing a hotel room, and it consequentially led to the pair of you indulging in those romantic feelings you knew you always had for each other. At the time, it felt far from a misstep, but the awkwardness that followed made it all feel like a huge mistake.

A following three weeks later —two weeks ago— you found out some life-altering information - discovering that you were pregnant. You knew that it was the work of you and Bucky during that night, but you couldn't bring yourself to share the news. Recently, he's acted like he wanted nothing to do with you, and you felt completely isolated as you wallowed in the feeling by yourself.

During those weeks of uncertainty, you confided in Natasha, essentially using her for support until you worked up enough courage to tell Bucky. She was far more helpful than she gave herself credit for, and slowly but surely, you started to get there in terms of bravery.

You were all currently spending the night at a safe house, sleeping over to resume your mission the next day. Everyone grouped off to share rooms.

It was late, all but you sure to be fast asleep. But you couldn't drift off, something undecided going on with your body - you couldn't figure out what it needed; was it food, water? Something to steady the nauseous feeling in your gut? You weren't sure, so you decided to head down to the kitchen, creeping out of the room quietly, trying not to wake Nat.

As you make your way downstairs, you see the silhouette of someone in the fridge, their back dark - the outline of them lit up by the yellow-white light. You wanted to turn around, not wanting to talk in your moody, tired state, but it was too late. The creak of the last few steps alerting them of your presence.

It was Bucky. And the look on his face was just as uncomfortable as yours.

"I'm just about to go," he murmurs, avoiding you, turning his attention to the open cupboard of glasses.

You roll your neck, working out the kink as you step into the kitchen - it wasn't small, but the space was far too tight for two people who couldn't bear to be in the same room. "No, it's fine. I was just getting a drink," you shrug, standing off to the side of him as you wait to collect a glass.

Instead, he turns to you, handing you one. "Juice is on the counter," he nods, gesturing to the island behind.

"Thanks," you smile reasonably, uncapping the bottle and pouring yourself a glass. But when Bucky steps over, you hand him yours, taking his to fill for yourself.

He takes a quick swig and thanks you, looking around the room awkwardly.

"Do you know where the cookies are?" you ask, trying to ease the tension.

He nods softly and reaches into another cupboard, pulling out a pack of cookies. He opens the packet and hands it to you, acting courteous.

"Thank you," you smile sweetly, offering him the first one.

With a soft shake of his head, he declines.

"Can't sleep?" you ask.

"No. You?"

"No."

And as he begins to step back, you decide to speak up - not wanting him to leave just yet. "Hey, uhm," you pause, fiddling with the cookie wrapper. "We haven't really spoken... how you been?"

"Uh, doing good," he nods faintly, clearly holding back. "Have you— are you good?"

You nod, also holding back.

"Good," he nods, lips in a forced straight line. Feet turning away, itching to leave the room.

"James," you hesitated, clutching at straws - desperate to keep him around just a little longer.

His movement halts, and he twists back to face you. The simple call of his real name brings back memories of the two of you before all the awkwardness.

"I'm..." you inhale sharply, thinking of the words. "I need to tell you something, and I—" you shake your head, stilling your wavering voice.

He takes a small step closer, leaving a comfortable distance between you. "Tell me what?" he asks, the desperation clear in his eyes - his body language growing anxious.

"A couple weeks ago... I found out I'm pregnant," you whisper, momentarily closing your eyes - cowering away. "And I don't know what to do," you shake your head, avoiding his eyes. "It's a lot... and I didn't know how to tell you, but you should know."

The silence is deafening. Bucky's being far too quiet, and it makes you feel sick. You finally meet his gaze and watch the contrasting emotions play out on his face - he's clearly trying to process it all.

"I know the timing isn't great, and things aren't good with us," you try to be mature, attempting to patch things over. "It was a shock for me too, but I just..." you sigh, waiting for him to say something. "I don't expect anything from you, it's okay. I get it."

He nods, seeming to have collected himself. "Let's talk everything over, okay? Talk it all through, clear the air," he offers with a half smile, closing the gap with another step forward.

"Now?" you ask, thrown off by his sudden cooperation and interest.

"Yeah, we'll sit on the back porch," he nods through the kitchen window, gesturing to the deck chairs. "You tell me everything, I'll tell you everything. We'll sort this out."

You're pleased with the progress you're making, and your forced smile turns into a real one - the first real one he's seen of yours in a while. "Yeah. I'd like that."

I spent way too long trying to understand the pregnancy time frame of conception and implantation😭😭

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader

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russellsppttemplates · 2 months

Text

She fits right in (Oscar Piastri)

You meet Oscar's family back home

Note: english is not my first language. I know I said write based on the order you send them in, but this one got priority for obvious reasons! 🫶

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"How long is the layover?", you asked Oscar as you put your backpack on properly once you took off your cardigan since you felt quite hot, "three hours", he replied, "we can go to the lounge and have some food first, freshen up", he suggested.

"Uuuuhh, freshening up in a public bathroom before I meet your parents in your childhood home, charming - you didn't have to make it so easy for me, Osc", you offered, going up to him so he could lace your hand in his and guide you through the airport.

Even you though you had travelled to see a couple of races from the garage, you had always kept inside Europe so long hail flights like this weren't something you were used to. You felt tired, sweaty, a little bit dirty from touching things everywhere and overall not that great. Still, it was a privilege to feel like this because of the reasons you did.

You found yourselves a table and made your order, Oscar staying there while you freshened up in the bathroom. Baby wipes, deodorant, brushing your teeth and washing your face would have to do for now.

"Do you feel a little more human?", he asked you once you sat back down, kissing his cheek soflty as he forwarded you your iced latte.

"Yes, actually I do", you snickered, taking a sip before speaking again, "are you sure your parents are fine with this whole arrangement?", you wondered.

"They're fine with it, you shouldn't be nervous, they already like you", he reassured. You had met his parents briefly when they travelled to see him race in Silverstone, but with the whole event taking up the schedule, you got to know eachother on a somewhat superficial level. Still, if the first impression was that good, it was a nice start.

"I'm not nervous nervous - at least not in the way I think I'd be, but is probably the jet lag and my body can't afford to have a freak out right now", you joked.

The last flight was spent with you sleeping on Oscar, arm rest up while you were cuddled up to his side, head nuzzled on his neck while he watched something to keep himself entertained and not get lost on his thoughts.

His family's opinion mattered to him and he was nervous to truly hear it. Not because of you - he was sure you were going to do brilliantly, but it wouldn't be the first time in history where seeing things up close, whether it was the lifestyle associated or being faced with what staying in a relationship looked like in the long run, made people leave. His parents had met your briefly before and now you were being introduced to everyone else. Grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, the neighbour he knew growing up. Everyone's eyes would be on you, and so would their opinions.

Rubbing your cheek softly, Oscar coaxed you out of sleep, "we're about to land, gorgeous, you might want to pop your ears", he muttered as you blinked your eyes open, kissing his palm before sitting up straight, doing as he told you before you fixed your hair, "do I look nice enough?", you wondered.

"You always look gorgeous", he assured, kissing your cheek softly.

You boarded off the plane and walked to the customs service, "they're quite quick at this time of year since a lot of people travel foe the race", Oscar explained as you were quickly checked before you walked to baggage claim, getting your suitcases and stopping twice to take photos Oscar's fans asked once they noticed it was him, "we're counting on a good race for you!", they wished as you smiled, handing them the phone back and waving once you walked to the spot Chris said him and Nicole would be waiting for you in the parking lot.

"How was your flight, dears?", Nicole was the first to speak as she embraced her son, followed by Chris.

"It was good, didn't have much turbulence", Oscar said as he saw your mother engulf you in a hug.

"It was nice, yes", you smiled, "very tiring getting to the land down under, I have to admit", you chuckled.

"Oh, that it is! Last time we did it, I felt so dirty I immediately went to the bathroom to shower once we got home", she giggled.

"I might actually do that, if you don't mind - my whole body just feels icky", you admitted, knowing you had arrived at early hours in the morning already and you shouldn't make much noise to the people who wanted to sleep.

"Of course it's fine! C'mon, let's pack the car and head home!", Chris encouraged you as he put the luggage on the car trunk while you got inside the car.

By the time you got home, Nicole encouraged you to head straight for the shower you so much needed while Oscar got something to eat. When you exited the ensuite bathroom, your boyfriend was unpacking his own suitcase.

"If you don't mind, I'll unpack those tomorrow? Or in the morning? What time is it already?", you muttered as he had closed the blinds, leaving the room completely dark with only the bedside lamp on.

"It's fine, love", he smiled, kissing the top of your head, "you smell nice", he chuckled, squeezing your waist softly before he went to have a shower.

Maybe it wasn't the most polite, but this was going to be your room for the next couple of days considering you had flown in early so Oscar could spend as much time as he could with his family, so you undid the bed. The fresh sheets enveloped you as you tied your hair in a messy bun just to get it away from your eyes.

The last thing you remember coherently is Oscar laying next to you, pulling you to cuddle up to him and kissing your forehead sweetly with a "Goodnight, my love".

You woke up a few hours later, looking at your watch and see that it was already past midday and you were in bed, "morning", you heard Oscar's groggy morning voice whisper into your back, littering kisses on your shoulders.

"Hey", you smiled, turning around and seeing his handsome smiley face, "it's the afternoon already", you pointed out.

"It usually is when I wake up after coming back home", he shrugged his shoulders, "my parents are used to it. Also, they said they'd be having lunch at my grandma's, so they're not home - it's probably why it's so quiet".

"Do they want us to meet them there?", you wondered, not wanting to part your boyfriend from his family.

"We can if you don't mind", he added, "you could meet my grandma, too!", he tried to see if you felt comfortable with it.

"Yes! Let me just get ready quickly!", you smiled, pecking his lips and leaving the bed.

"Why so excited?", Oscar asked as you were leaving his parents' house after having something quick to eat and you got your latte.

"You have told me many stories from your grandma and grandma's house is always the best!", you winked at him before you wiggled your brows.

"What do you mean it's always the best?", he quirked a brow.

"Grandma's are the ones who have the best photo collections in the family - C'mon Oscar, it's going to be so fun!", you joined your hands together in a cartoon villain like way, fingertips touching as you made a mischief expression.

"Did Lando set you up for this?", Oscar said as he unlocked the car.

"Yes! The more I get, the more Quadrant hoodies he says he'll get me!", you winked, pulling his arm to the car so he could drive you both to his grandparents' house.

"Can we come in?", Oscar announced as you both walked in through the back door, seeing his parents sat at the table while an older lady was doing something at the kitchen counter.

"Oscar, my love!", she yelled, wiping her hands on the nearest kitchen towell before she threw herself at her grandson, hugging him tightly while you greeted Oscar's parents briefly.

"And this is the young woman who stole Oscar's heart, how are you, sweetheart? You're very welcomed here!", she said, pulling you in for a tight hug immediately.

"I'm Y/N, thank you for welcoming me into your home, it's beautiful", you smiled warmly.

"Have you two had something to eat? I can make you something quickly if you'd like!", she asked and you both shook your head, "I'm good, but thank you".

"I was actually getting ready to make some Lamingtons and some Rum Balls, too. Y/N, has Oscar ever baked them for you?", she mused.

"No, I don't think he has", you looked at him for confirmation as he shook his head, blush erupting on his cheeks, "I would never make them as good as yours!", he defended himself.

"Well, darling, I'm going to make some for you too then!", she smiled.

"I'd love to help if you want a hand, maybe then I'll pester Oscar to make them for me back home", you smiled.

"Oh, good! Let's get started then!", she exclaimed, getting you an apron and guiding you through the recipe.

"You can beat these while I measure the flower", she delegated, "it has to be very fluffy so the sponge is firm enough", she advised as you beat the contents inside the bowl.

"How is that going?", Oscar asked coming up from behind you as you were transferring the batter to the lined tin.

"I need to use the bathroom, dear, but when you finish that, can you put it in the oven and take the other one, please?", she questioned, "this way we'll have a new batch to work with everytime", she smiled before excusing herself.

"How is she really doing with you?", your boyfriend waited for a honest answer.

"It's been really fun, truly! She's been telling me stories about when she was younger and what growing up here was like, she fed me some of those things, those rolled up things", you pointed at the plate on the counter.

"Those are rum balls! Love, you don't even like rum!", he pinched your cheek before you out the tray in the oven.

"I wasn't going to break her heart and tell her no, and they're not that bad! Just not my favourite things ever!", you reasoned with him, wiping your hands on the kitchen towell, "but it's been good, she's very lovely - and I am this close at getting to your baby stories", you pinched your thumb and poster finger together.

"You're impossible", he chuckled, stealing a kiss from your lips before his grandma got back.

"She's a lovely girl, Oscar", his mother said as she sat down next to him on the chair on the decking outside as they saw his father gather the supplies for a barbecue. His grandmother suggested and afternoon barbecue for when you were done with baking.

"I'm very happy I brought her home to meet everyone", Oscar smiled, "she's really one of a kind".

"Is she dealing well with all of this? I'm sure she's not used to it", Nicole wondered, "people taking pictures, interrupting your day to day lives, you're not always there for her", she trailed off.

"Well, neither am I, right?", Oscar chuckled, "I think she's been doing well, we speak about it every now and again to check and make sure we're both well with all of it. We don't post eachother much, that's been helpful, and she has all her social media private".

"It's nice, she's an incredible young woman, and you two are so great together", Nicole complimented.

"I think I was more nervous to come out here than her, to be honest", Oscar said, prompting his mother to raise her eyebrows, "not because of her! I was nervous because she's the first person I've brought home - like, home home - and I didn't know how you would react with her being here and everything. It's not like it's a dinner and she can run away or leave for her own place if she feels uncomfortable or if you guys didn't like her", he trailed off the last part.

His family's opinion mattered to him, and as romantic as it often sounded in movies, he wasn't sure how he would proceed if his family strongly felt against your relationship.

"Well, on our end, we're fine", his mother nudged his shoulder, "she's so lovely, Oscar, you would be a fool if you let her get away from you. She's smart, caring, loving - she fits quite well with grandma", she pointed to you two with her eyes as the older lady taught you how to dip the cake in the chocolate and then the coconut, laughing together as you seemed to get more on your hands than on the actual sweet food, "she loves you dearly, I can tell. Of course we approve. But, if she wants to make a run for it, well - that's going to be a little bit tricky at the very least", she joked as she saw her mother help you with a kitchen towell, "though that doesn't look like it's going to be anytime soon".

You fit right in with his family and he couldn't be happier.

#oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri fluff #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 fluff

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wineauntie · 2 months

Text

A HARD DAY’S NIGHT — Luke Hughes x book lover!reader

summary: After a tough loss, Luke is in desperate need of comfort, but it just so happens that he knows exactly where to find it.

note: soft Luke Hughes is my kryptonite

warnings: nothing really just pure, teeth-rotting fluff! use of names y/n, pretty girl, sweet girl and babe.

word count: 1.6K+

apart of this universe, but can be read as a standalone!

You bit your lip nervously as you triple-checked the final game score, wincing at the sight of the heavy loss the Devils had taken. Despite giving it their all, the other team had pulled ahead by a whopping six points. You leaned against the kitchen counter of your apartment, your battered copy of Dracula lying across the surface whilst you waited for Luke to show up. More often than not, Luke would end up at your apartment after games, especially if they went badly or not as expected. He claimed your apartment felt more like home, and who were you to deny him of that?

You'd gotten the text after the game, telling you he'd be home in just under forty minutes, leaving you time to clean up around the place, make yourself some tea, and start making dinner for the two of you. You always liked to cook, it calmed your anxiety and gave you something to focus on. The soft hum of Fleetwood Mac filled the room's silence as you moved to stir your classic chicken, spinach & bacon alfredo pasta.

You couldn't shake off the feeling of unease as you glanced at the clock, each tick feeling like an eternity. Finally, the sound of keys jangling outside the door signalled Luke's arrival. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for his mood. You looked towards the door as it creaked open, revealing Luke's tired figure, shoulders slumped and hockey bag dragging behind him.

"Hey," you greeted softly, mustering a smile despite the heavy atmosphere. Luke's eyes met yours, exhaustion evident in their depths as he tried to muster a smile for you.

"Hey," he replied, his voice heavy with defeat as he dropped his bag by the door. You didn't have to say or hear another word before you moved closer, wrapping your arms around him in a comforting embrace.

"Tough game?" you asked gently, already knowing the answer but wanting to offer him a chance to vent. Luke sighed, his head dropping to rest against your shoulder as he hunched to lean into your comforting touch.

"Yeah, it was brutal. Nothing seemed to go our way tonight," he admitted through a voice muffled by your hair, his frustration palpable. You ran your fingers through his curls soothingly, letting him unload his frustrations in the safety of your embrace.

"Well, you're home now," you reassured him, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "And dinner's almost ready. How about we eat and forget about it for tonight?" Luke managed a small smile, the weight of the game lifting slightly at your words.

"Sounds perfect," he murmured, slowly pulling away from you before pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. You hummed, your fingers tangling in his hair as you kissed, his nose brushing yours whilst he melted against you. As you broke apart, you laced your hand with his and led him to the table. As you both sat, you silently vowed to do everything in your power to lift his spirits and make him forget about the loss, if only for a little while.

The two of you ate in a comfortable quiet, the odd conversation being made as you recounted your evening from the moment Luke had left to the present. You'd been given the day off from work, which allowed you to bask in the solace of your books and the endless streams of herbal teas.

After the meal and a few shared jokes, you noticed Luke's demeanour starting to lighten. As you cleared the dishes together, a sense of warmth enveloped the room, drawing you closer to each other.

"Do you want to go take a shower?" you suggested, a warm smile playing on your lips as Luke wrapped his arms around you from behind, his chin propped up on your shoulder.

Luke's eyes lit up with the idea. "That sounds perfect," he agreed, his voice soft and grateful before his face dropped slightly. "...will you come with me?

You turned in the embrace, your thumb caressing his cheek. "Of course," you nodded, taking his hand in yours as you brought him towards the bathroom. The two of you slowly undressed one another, stripping off articles of clothing piece by piece, with Luke kissing as much exposed skin of yours as possible.

The sound of running water filled the bathroom as you stepped into the shower together. The warm cascade of water washed away the tension of the day, leaving only a sense of peace and closeness between you, Luke keeping a loose arm around you. With gentle hands, you washed away the remnants of the game, soothing away any lingering disappointment with each tender touch.

The water trailed down both of your bare bodies as you hummed a melody you'd heard earlier, your hands dragging a suds-filled washcloth across Luke's chest, whilst his eyes fluttered open and closed, basking in the warmth surrounding him.

You had stayed wrapped up in his hold until he'd eventually pulled away and with a contented sigh, he turned off the faucet and held out his hand to help you step out of the shower. The bathroom air felt cool against your damp skin as you reached for fluffy towels, wrapping them around yourselves in a cocoon of heat. Luke's eyes met yours through the foggy condensation that gathered in the room, a soft smile playing on his lips as he leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead.

Together, you dried each other off, the simple act infused with tenderness and affection and once dry, you made your way back to the bedroom, hand in hand, the soft carpet welcoming your bare feet.

In the quiet of the bedroom, you dropped Luke's hand to rummage through drawers, pulling out two new sets of pyjamas. You handed a pair to Luke before changing into the pants and T-shirt you'd picked out for yourself. You adjusted your T-shirt before rubbing your arms, now littered with goosebumps.

"Here," you spun to face Luke, who held out one of his grey hoodies that you loved, one which he'd had tried to pry from you on various occasions. Luke had a soft, but tired smile across his face as he helped you to pull it over your head.

"Thanks," you stood on your toes and pressed a kiss to his lips as you relished in the comfort and familiarity of Luke's hoodie. "TV and downtime?"

"Sounds perfect, sweet girl," he spoke quietly as he held the bedroom door open for you to slip through to the living room. You skipped ahead, grabbing your abandoned copy of Dracula from the kitchen counter before collapsing onto the couch. You lay sprawled across the couch, furrowing into the pillows as Luke finally joined you. He held your water bottle in his hands, passing it to you before he flopped on top of you.

His body was like a weighted blanket on top of yours as he pulled his hoodie's hood over his head and rested fully against you. Your fingers crept beneath his hood, running your hand through his curls whilst he lazily turned on the TV, flicking through channels before settling on his age-old favourite "Secretariat", you let a small smile grace your face, as he dropped the remote and relaxed into your open arms.

You waited a few minutes before opening your book with one hand, the other still deep in Luke's hair, your fingers massaging his scalp as he focused on the movie. You melted into the familiar comfort of the moment, the weight of Luke's presence grounding you. As the movie played in the background, you lost yourself in the pages of Dracula, the words transporting you to a world far removed from the stresses of the day. Luke's steady breathing against your chest created a soothing rhythm, lulling you into a state of peaceful contentment.

Outside, the city buzzed with its own rhythm, but within the walls of your apartment, time seemed to slow down, wrapping you both in a cocoon of warmth and intimacy. You stole glances at Luke from over the pages of your book, admiring the way the soft glow of the TV illuminated his features, casting gentle shadows across his face.

Your hand reached down so that your thumb could lovingly caress your sleepy boy's cheek. Luke stirred, his arm tightening around you instinctively as he murmured something unintelligible, his voice muffled by the fabric of his hoodie.

As the movie played on and the night deepened, Luke's gaze drifted from the screen to you. He watched as you turned another page of your book, your lips curved into a soft smile that illuminated the room in a way the TV screen couldn't.

He couldn't help but admire the way your smile seemed to chase away the shadows of the day, filling the space between you with warmth and affection. It was a smile that had the power to calm his restless mind and ease the weight of his worries.

"God, I love your smile," Luke murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

You looked up from your book, meeting his gaze with a curious expression. "What's that?" you asked, your smile widening at the sight of his adoring gaze.

Luke shook his head slightly, a tender smile playing on his lips. "Nothing," he replied softly. As you hummed questioningly, Luke stirred beside you, his voice deep and low, reverberating through your body, spreading chills down your spine.

"Hey, babe?" he murmured, his tone heavy with drowsiness as he lifted his head to look up at you.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for always being here for me,"

Heat rose to your cheeks as you brushed a loose strand of hair away from his face. "Always, Luke." You answered, your heart swelled at his words, a rush of warmth flooding through you. You reached out, cupping his cheek with your hand as you leaned in to press a gentle kiss to his lips. That's what I'm here for."

He reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. "I love you," he whispered, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I love you too," you whispered back, feeling the weight of his love settle over you like a warm blanket.

WHEN WILL IT BE MY TURN I BEG YOU!

#luke hughes x reader #nhl x reader #wineauntie #luke hughes fluff #hughes brothers x reader #luke hughes fanfiction #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes smut #luke hughes fanfic #luke hughes x you #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes oneshot #luke hughes fic #luke hughes

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spacedace · 1 year

Text

@proshipper-on-ship thank you for the Dick & Dan idea you added to my other post, please enjoy some of the fall out your comment resulted in haha

“So,” Bruce tried, looking hesitantly pleased at the surprisingly light atmosphere around the table. “Anything new and exciting going on with anyone?”

There was a smattering of answers from around the table. Jason didn’t offer anything - which wasn’t surprising, that he was even there and largely not starting a fight was more than enough as far as Dick was concerned - but with some ribbing from Steph, Tim eventually admitted to finally asking that boy he’d been interested in out. Dick joined in on teasing his little brother - and even Jay gave, for him, some gentle ribbing over finally getting the balls to do something, eh Timberland? - while very carefully avoiding mentioning his own sorta-kinda thing with Dan in Bludhaven. He’d deal with his siblings making him miserable and embarrassed over it all when he actually scored a date with him thanks very much.

Things were going good.

And then Damian cleared his throat, looking imperious and uninterested at the same time as he waited for everyone to turn to look at him.

“I have an announcement on an alteration to my personal life.” He declared, chin up and looking like he was already over this whole family-bonding-time thing, which was fair. Damian had gotten better over the years, but he was still not exactly the cute and cuddly little brother. Dick still had the scar from the last time he tried to hug Dami without warning a year ago and got stabbed for the effort. Still, he was sharing, willingly even! That’s progress!

At the head of the table Bruce tilted his head, looking as cautiously hopeful as Dick felt over the youngest Wayne actually offering to share something personal. “Have you decided on what college you want to go to then?”

“No.” Dami dismissed easily, without more than a glance in Bruce’s direction. “Night and I have decided to take some time to travel before continuing any further schooling.”

Huh, honestly, Dick was kinda surprised. With how much of a perfectionist Dami was, he’d thought he’d throw himself into college with the same ferocious, competitive drive he did everything else. But then again, if Elle Nightingale was going to be taking a gap year or two, it wasn’t as if it was that much of a surprise that Dami would go and join her.

The two gremlins had been practically inseparable since they were twelve and discovered a shared love of stabbing people and adopting every animal they see. If Dami’s best friend was going to go gallivanting across the world like she always dreamed of doing, Dick couldn’t actually be that surprised that Dami would be going with her.

Dick took a sip of his drink as Dami opened his mouth to continue with what was probably going to be to most people the world’s most harrowing game of “how many incredibly dangerous animals can we see before we end up dead on our gap year” that the two demons were undoubtedly planning.

He regretted taking that sip almost immediately as Damian said, “Night and I took our marital vows yesterday. She sends her regrets that she was unable to join us for family dinner tonight.”

Predictably, the room broke out into utter chaos.

Dick choked on his drink, spraying across the table and splattering Babs with a shower of wine. She didn’t even seem to notice, dropping her own glass as she snapped her head over to stare at Damian, the sound of breaking glass and a deep red stain pooling across the table following as she did. At the end of the table, Jay made a noise like a dying goose as the samosa he’d just popped in his mouth threatened to kill him. Cass, perhaps the most outwardly calm at the proclamation, only stared with wide eyes at her younger brother as she hit Jason on the back in an attempt to make sure he didn’t die.

Dick could practically hear the old shrieking AOL dial up noise that was Tim’s brain attempting to process what his little brother had just said, while sitting next to him Steph gave a small shriek of you what? Duke’s head was on a swivel, eyes darting from Damian, to another family member, to Damian and back again as if unsure who to even look at in the moment.

Bruce just…stared, frozen in place, face caught in the most open look of shock Dick thinks the man has ever shown in his life.

—

Damian sniffed and cast a caustic look towards - of all people - Jason, “Unlike some people, I share my good news with the family in a timely manner.”

Jay sputtered, “You know what, fuck you! Fine, you want me to share the news?” Jay snapped his head towards the rest of them. “Jazz is pregnant, baby is due next month on the sixth. Baby shower’s next weekend at Robinson Park, show up or don’t, I really don’t give a fuck.”

Or maybe he was just going to try to kill them with a heart attack.

“What the fuck?!”

“Language!”

“Who the fuck is Jazz?!”

“Language!”

“Night’s elder sister and guardian, Drake, keep up. You should know this, you’re dating her brother.”

“I’m what?”

“And Grayson is having flirtations with her other brother.”

“Dan is Elle’s older brother? Wait - how do you know about that?”

“Todd and I are in the Nightingale family group chat. We have endured far too much waxing poet about your posterior over the past months.”

“Why do they all have variations of the same name? Who gives all their children the same name?”

“He likes my ass?”

“Oh my god, bigger picture Dick, focus.”

“Seriously, do they all have the same name outside of the older sister? I feel like we need to acknowledge they all have the same name.”

“Can we go back to the fact that Damian got married? To Elle? Yesterday? How did you even do that without anyone knowing?

“Dr. Nightingale is a notary.”

“…Dr. Nightingale as in the woman Bruce is investigating Dr. Nightingale?”

“Okay but the name thing? Please tell me you’re not naming the baby some variation of the name Daniel.”

“If the gremlins get their way it will be. Do you know how many lists we’ve made that they keep sabotaging?”

“So you have Dan’s number? Could you give it to me?”

“Jesus Christ, Dick I’m begging you.”

“Why did you guys even get married?”

“For the diplomatic immunity.”

“You don’t have diplomatic immunity.”

“I do now.”

“What does that mean?”

#dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom #batman #batfam #damian wayne #tim drake #jason todd #dick grayson #dani fenton #danielle fenton #danny fenton #jazz fenton #dan fenton #redeemed dan fenton #anger management #brain dead #queer platonic damian and danielle #dick grayson/dan fenton #gotham therapist jazz #gotham's favorite psychiatrist Jazz AU #ghost king danny #Bruce has no idea which thing he should have a crisis about first #or if he should combine it all into one BIG crisis #he's going to be GRANDPA #HE'S ALREADY STRUGGLING WITH THE DAD THING HE'S NOT READY TO BE A GRANDPA #AND WHAT DO YOU MEAN FOUR OF HIS CHILDREN ARE INVOLVED WITH THE SAME SHADY FAMILY?#everyone is very concerned about what Damian is going to do with the diplomatic immunity #reposting because shit got fucked when I attempted to post it before and I can't even delete the old version #tumblr is having a time of things apparently lol

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etherealstar-writes · 4 months

Text

I WANNA BE YOURS | LIONESSES X READER | PT 7

pairings: lionesses x reader

summary: in which you're accidentally added to a random group chat, not knowing they're all actually famous footballers, and obliviously end up having many of them competing for your love and attention.

part: seven

part one here

✦ ——— ✦ ——— ✦

THE NATIONAL DIVING TEAM

the REAL karate kid

good afternoon losers

and y/n <3

the imposter

hey

willybum

good afternoon you dumbass

and hello to you too y/n

the REAL karate kid

rude

how are you y/n?

the imposter

eh i'm doing fine i guess

stairway

is everything alright

the imposter

i got fired from work today 😔

lotte

what happened?

if you don't mind me asking

the imposter

so i told ya what i do for work yeah?

well i've worked for this company for the past

whole year as their main solo media manager

and then my boss found out that his good old

friend's son was looking for a job and he's also

a photographer and social media manager so he

decided to fire me and hire him instead to

keep his relationship strong with his old friend

the REAL karate kid

that really sucks

your boss sounds like a terrible person

the imposter

yeah he was a really difficult person

i am kinda glad tho ngl

i don't have to see his annoying face ever again

but back to job hunting again 😔

neev

if it makes you feel better

leah got head-shotted in the head

by lessi during training

the imposter

i really hope someone got proof of it

stairway

i gotcha

maya

HELP

lotte

got K.O-ed lol

willybum

this isn't funny

i got a full on concussion

i'll get you back russo

the REAL karate kid

not my fault you're a terrible defender 🤷‍♀️

willybum

EXCUSE ME?!

the imposter

dam

them calves 😮‍💨

has anyone ever asked you

to step on them?

neev

um y/n is there something you'd

like to share with the group ...

willybum

weirdly enough yeah

i have been asked that

elton

it was actually just y/n asking

on a secret account

the imposter

don't expose me like that 😩

meado

every time i open this group chat

i get deeply concerned for you all again

i don't even know who y/n is and i feel like

i should be concerned about her as well

the imposter

woah

meado

i thought we were getting along well 😔

stairway

well if meado is concerned then

i guess she's offering to pay for

our therapy so let's go gang

the imposter

also

why do guys always train and

play football together?

elton

oh you know

we just like to play football together at times

stairway

yeah

it's fun

the imposter

okay ....

who am i to judge

✦ ——— ✦ ——— ✦

THE LION KING SQUAD

russo

so guys

i have done something

toone

oh no

that is never a good sign

le tissier

okay i'm intrigued

this is gonna be bad

wubben-moy

the fact that she's using the group chat

without y/n is not a good sign

stanway

is she about to introduce her new wife

to us or something? did you like run away

and get married in vegas or something?

charles

we literally saw her yesterday georgia

so if she had then that would be

insanely impressive

toone

is that why you weren't at training today?

greenwood

ella looked very lost today

it was worrying

russo

yeah

i ran away with y/n and we got married

toone

HUH

stanway

WHAT

charles

EXCUSE ME

russo

OF COURSE NOT YOU IDIOTS

not yet anyway 😏

but back to the point

leah was also in on this

bright

oh like that's any better

williamson

excuse me??

wubben-moy

here we go

russo

okay

you know how y/n's looking for a job yeah?

well leah and i thought we'd put in a

good word for her in our media admin so

that you know .... maybe she can get

offered a job here and you know we can

actually meet her and get to know her irl ....

stanway

that is actually ....

the most decent idea i've heard from ya

charles

yeah fr

hemp

oh my god y'all are such simps

stanway

shut up

toone

i do wonder when y/n will find out about

who we are or if she ever will

charles

nah she's got to find out soon with

the euros starting next week?

williamson

i reckon we tell her after the euros

wubben-moy

well that shall be eventful

part eight here

#lionesses x reader #woso x reader #engwnt x reader #lionesses #engwnt #leah williamson x reader #alessia russo x reader #ella toone x reader #georgia stanway x reader #niamh charles x reader #lotte wubben moy x reader #beth mead x reader #maya le tissier x reader #woso imagine #woso #woso fanfics #womens football

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dilemmaontwolegs · 10 months

Text

Not A Verstappen: Gridlocked {3}

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: It's Charles birthday and you have to find the perfect gift. Warnings: 18+ only, allusions to smut, alcohol WC: 2.3k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three || Four

Charles’ Birthday Week 2022 “I need you to steal something for me.”

Lando blinked twice as he tried to compute your words before giving up. “What?”

Despite hearing the shower still running, cupped your hand around his ear and whispered, “I need you to go to Charles’ apartment and steal a race suit. It’s for his birthday and I’m running out of time. Please?”

He perked up knowing you weren’t going to actually get him arrested and started to get a little excited as he nodded. “Okay, but you have to keep him distracted so I can borrow his keys.”

“You’re not even going to ask what I’m doing?”

“No, I want to be surprised too.” Lando grinned and kissed your nose before getting out of bed and dressing in record time to leave.

You had spent a long time wondering what to get Charles for a birthday gift when he could literally afford to buy everything he wanted. It had only been when an old video began circulating online a few days ago that the idea sparked to life. You just hoped Lando remembered to disable the alarm.

“Where’s Lan?” Charles asked when he found you alone in bed.

For a moment you were struck by how good he looked with just a towel slung around his hips and water running down his chest. “He had to pop out, shouldn’t be too long.”

Charles smirked as he climbed onto the bed, the towel falling away as it got caught on the bedpost. “That’s a shame,” he chuckled, caging you beneath him as droplets of cold water fell onto your skin. “He can join in when he gets back.”

Your lips parted to meet his but before they could touch an alarm sounded on Charles’ phone and he pulled back with a frown. “That’s my home security…” He reached for the phone and you snatched it from him before he could open the live video feed and see what Lando was taking. “What are you doing?”

“It’s just Lando,” you admitted as you buried the phone under your pillow. “I sent him on an errand to your place so we could have some alone time.”

“Why would you do that?” Concern contorted Charles face as he sat up and pulled the sheet around his body. “Is this not working for you?”

“No, no, shit, it’s not like that. I love what we have.” The lie didn’t make him relax like you were hoping and your stomach knotted with the need to erase the look from his face. “I love you, and Lando.”

“Moi aussi,” he replied but he still kept his distance as he tried to understand. “Do you want to spend time one-on-one, is that it? I should have offered…”

“Charles, please, shut up,” you groaned as your head fell into your hands. “I don’t want that, I always want us to be together. When we are together I feel like I finally know where I belong, like I have a proper family, and I really wanted to do something special for your birthday to thank you for giving me that and now the surprise is ruined.”

The sheet slipped from his fingers as he reached for your hands and pulled them away from your face. “My birthday?”

“Since I have to share you with everyone else for your party I thought I could give you a present early but I needed Lando to help. Now it’s not a surprise.”

“I still don’t know what it is, so that’s a surprise,” he reminded softly.

You sighed and gave him a small nod. “I guess that’s the most important part. But the suspense is gone.”

“I think I can help with that,” he smirked and reached under the pillow to grab his phone before calling Lando on speakerphone. “Mon cher, where are you?”

“Well, uh, you see, we…needed milk,” Lando lied weakly before you heard the bell of the convenience store door in the retail shops downstairs before Monsieur Verne greeted him like an old friend.

“Oh, I thought, nevermind. I should call the police, I think someone has broken into my apartment.”

You clapped a hand over your mouth before you could laugh but a small choked sound broke through at Charles' growing amusement.

“Fuck, okay it was me, please don’t call the cops,” Lando admitted as the elevator pinged and you heard his panicked voice repeat the request before the line cut out as it always did on the ride to the top.

“You are so mean!” you gasped but it ended in laughter as Charles tossed his phone to the side table.

“He lied to me,” Charles chuckled with a shrug and you both turned at the sound of the front door slamming shut and feet sprinting through the house.

“I don’t think that can really count as a lie,” you teased before Lando filled the doorway, a bottle of milk in his hands even though there was a new bottle in the fridge. “Hi baby.”

“Please don’t call the cops,” he pleaded as he climbed onto the bed. “I forgot the passcode again.”

“No shit,” you giggled as you combed his hair out of his face and he relaxed enough to see the glint of mischief in Charles’ eyes. “He’s fucking with you.”

You took the bottle from his hands as Charles reached for him, tugging him against his body before taking his breath away with a heated kiss that left Lando in a daze. “No more lying,” Charles warned as he nipped at Lando’s bottom lip just hard enough to make him whimper.

Raising your hand, he turned his attention to you and the small smirk tipping up your lips. “Yes, amour?”

You bit your lip and eyed the flushes on their cheeks, wanting that heat for yourself. “I lied too.”

Your fingertips hurt and you remembered just how much you hated sewing when you were younger. You thought needlework would be like riding a bicycle and it took a few stabs to prove right as you looked at the final product with satisfaction. Just in time too.

The big celebration was set to start in a few hours but you and Lando were going to meet Charles at his house to get ready for his birthday party together. He had spent the afternoon at his mother’s with his brothers and it was times like this that you wished the relationship could be made known. Then you wouldn’t have to miss sharing these moments with him and his family.

Next month would be the same with Lando’s birthday.

“Spitz, baby, ready to go?” Lando had been serious about wanting to be surprised and had kept out of the office which was filled with your computer desk and sim-setup.

“Ready!” You grabbed the bright red gift box and folded Charles’ race suit up before carefully placing it in and sealing it up with a big bow. “What did you get him?”

“Another bottle of Tom Ford.”

“Nice,” you grinned. It was certainly a favourite for all of you and Charles knew it since he wore it more than any of the other bottles he owned, depleting the bottle quite a bit in the last few months.

Lando carried the box for you, balancing his smaller one on top, and grabbing the keys for your Mercedes Maybach that was parked in the garage next to his Fiat Jolly. The heavy tinting that your car could provide was definitely needed since it was going to be impossible to keep your hands to yourself. Lando hadn’t even changed into his clubbing clothes and he looked mouthwatering, it was only going to get harder for you when he and Charles were dressed up in their finest.

It seemed like all of Monte Carlo had taken to the streets for their Saturday night and it was gridlocked. The minutes ticked away and you ground your teeth as you debated parking and making the rest of the short journey on foot to Charles apartment.

“We’re going to be late if this doesn’t start moving,” you grumbled and Lando reached across the driver’s seat to squeeze your thigh.

“Relax, Spitfire, it’s not race day.”

“Not helping, Norris. I’m not good with going slow.”

His warm laugh filled the car and his hand ran dangerously high up your thigh. “Don’t I know it.”

There was hardly any time to get dressed when you finally arrived at Charles’ and you were in such a rush that you completely forgot about the present in your car. It wasn’t until you climbed in the backseat and Charles found it waiting on his seat in the front.

“C’est risqué?” Charles asked as he lifted it up and gently shook it beside his ear, trying to figure out what it was.

You chuckled and leaned through the middle of the seats to fix up a few strands of his hair that had gone amiss. “It’s not a double ended dildo, if that’s what you were thinking.”

“So I can open it with the others?” You were suddenly nervous but gave him a nod because shying away wasn’t in your nature.

The exclusive club was just ahead and you knew it would be a few hours before you would be able to indulge yourself again so you trusted Lando not to crash and half climbed through the seats to kiss Charles.

“Happy almost Birthday.”

Three tables had been pushed together for all the presents the guests had bought but, after Lorenzo and Arthur had carried out a large cake and everyone had sung Happy Birthday, it was your gift he picked up first.

“Is it kinky?” Pierre asked in your ear as he draped an arm over your shoulder. “Personalised, diamanté cock rings?”

“I swear you think about our sex life more than we do,” you teased with a prod to his ribs. Charles scanned the crowd but like magnets his eyes found yours almost instantly and you gave him a smile as he tugged the bow open.

The material shook slightly in his hands and you wondered if maybe you had overstepped the line when he lifted it out of the box. Beside you, Pierre gasped and his arm fell away as Lando slipped in the narrow space.

“I, I, um, saw an interview,” you stammered as you felt the hundreds of eyes on you. Lando placed a comforting hand on the small of your back and you tried to calm your racing heart before continuing. “And you mentioned your grandma and your race suit and I thought you might like…”

Charles ran his hand over the stitching where you had unpicked the Shell logo, replacing it with a cross. “I love it. Thank you.” He slung the racing suit over his shoulder and crossed the floor to pull you into a friendly hug but his words were certainly more as he hid his lips in your hair. “I love you.”

Max found you as the lights dimmed and the party started to get into full swing. Lando had disappeared into the DJ booth while Charles was being pulled every which way by his friends and family wanting a minute of his time.

“That was nice of you, the gift,” Max said after he ordered two gin and tonics. “Kind of weird too.”

“I'm still more normal than you.”

“Debatable, we are equally fucked up,” he argued, passing one of the drinks to you. “Didn’t know you could sew.”

“You learn a whole lot of useful skills when you can’t afford new things,” you murmured into your glass before taking a sip. “It was either darn secondhand, worn and torn race suits or not race at all.”

“Fuck,” Max swore and tipped his glass back to gulp a few mouthfuls down before changing the subject from the reminder of your fathers lack of decency to provide for all his children equally. “What have you been up to? I hardly see you anymore.”

“I see you literally everyday at work.”

“Yeah, but that’s work, it doesn’t count. You haven’t raided my fridge in weeks.”

“I’m maturing, Max Emilian,” you said as you clapped him on the shoulder, “buying my own groceries and potpourri. You should be grateful, not asking me twenty questions.”

You turned away from the bar and grinned at the sight of Lando at the mixing board, a headset over one ear as he bobbed his head to music he was making. The dance floor was full of people from the F1 world but there were still a lot of faces you didn’t recognise and you wondered if Charles would’ve introduced you to them under other circumstances.

“Fine, no more questions if you come to breakfast tomorrow,” Max bartered and you nodded absentmindedly, throwing a thumbs up as you made your way to the dance floor.

You spotted Charles’ white shirt and snuck up behind him to cup your hands over his eyes. Rising up on your tiptoes your lips brushed the shell of his ear and you purred, “Hey, big boy, wanna dance?”

Your hands were torn away and you frowned as Charles turned, but the eyes that met yours weren’t the right shade. “Fuck me, you look like your brother from behind.”

“He went to the bathroom,” Arthur said as he jutted his thumb towards the dark hallway. “Do I even want to know…?”

“Nope, definitely not,” you cut him off. “Just have a few more drinks and forget this happened, yeah?”

“I don’t think I am ever going to forget you calling me, well Char, big boy, Verstappen,” he laughed.

“She’s not a Verstappen, petit frère,” Charles corrected him as he threw his arms around the both of you and squeezed his brother’s shoulder. “What did I miss?”

“She called me-”

“Arthur!”

Arthur clamped his mouth shut with a laugh that rocked his shoulders and he wriggled out of his brother's grasp to disappear into the crowd. Charles kept his arm around you as he started dancing along to the music Lando was playing, both of their smiles brightening when their eyes met.

“Are you going to tell me what happened?” he asked in your ear.

Your nose wrinkled and you shook your head. “Nothing, just an inchident.”

Click here for part four.

Taglist: @moonvr @copper-boom @yunnie-f1 @ophcelia @lightsoutletsgo @alwaysclassyeagle @neiich @omgsuperstarg @starwarssavy23 @fdl305 @faeb1tch42069 @sweetestrose569 @pleasantducktimetravel @zendayabelova @dr3lover @writerscurse @christianpulisic10 @alexisquinnlee-bc @purplephantomwolf @belennasif @ryiamarie @mickslover @tyna-19 @destourtereaux @sunf1ower16 @octaviareina @laneyspaulding19 @booknerd2004-blog @mimimarvelingmarvel @chonkybonky @jpg3 @bangtanxberm @ohthemisssery @eviethetheatrefreak @kimi240302 @formula1mount @storyteller-le @dakotali @daddyslittlevillain @elijahslover @formulas-bitch @faithm120601 @ynbutbetter @allabouthappiness @simpingcorner @chasing-liberosis @jspitwall @sociallyinepludi @ru-kru @gillybear17 @topguncultleader @be-your-coffee-pot @sophie-reads-too-much

#charles leclerc x reader x lando norris #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic #f1 rpf #formula one fanfiction #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x reader #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine

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eternally-racing · 5 months

Text

slip | lando norris

genre: angst + fluff

wc: 1k

warnings: none, there's maybe like 1 swear I think

summary: on a tough race weekend in qatar, you want to be there for Lando

-----

“What went wrong today in the car Lando?”

You watch your boyfriend on your TV screen as your heart sinks when he says “Nothing, just a lack of talent”. You know it had been a tough string of races for your blue-eyed boy, and this definitely wasn’t the first and would not be the last time that this happened, but you could tell something about this was really getting into Lando’s head.

I’m sorry about today, Lan. Give me a call whenever and we can chat <3

You sigh as the message only tacks onto the last 3 unanswered messages you’ve sent to him. It’s not intentionally malicious, it never is with him. For so long Lando felt alone in the karting world that he got in the habit of getting in his head over a race weekend, and even with all the work you two have put into your relationship, sometimes he slips right back into those bad habits on those hard days. This wasn’t something you were going to let your boyfriend go through alone though, and that meant calling in some reinforcements.

"Congrats on the first win Osc!"

“Thanks Y/N :) I know that’s not why you’re reaching out though…”

Classic Oscar, you chuckle to yourself. He really is wise beyond his years. If anyone would be able to help you help Lando, you would hope that it would be his teammate.

“It’s bad with him right now, isn’t it?”

It’s a rhetorical question, but it still offers a glimmer of hope that maybe you’re being the overdramatic girlfriend and Lando’s actually fine. Unfortunately, that couldn’t be further from the truth when Oscar messages you back.

“It’s really bad, Y/N. None of us know what to do. We need your help”

That’s all the information you need before you’re setting your master plan into motion. You’re stuffing clothes into a duffle bag, calling in sick to work, and booking a plane ticket to head to Qatar yourself. There was only one moment of hesitation in the airport of “what the hell am I doing” before you look down at your lock screen of a smiley Lando out in the water in Bali. You wanted to bring that smile back so badly, and you hoped that this would be able to do that. Oscar is gracious enough to help you out with all the details of the team’s schedule for the weekend and the details of their hotel, but once you’re standing in front of Lando’s door the reality of the situation really hits you. You’ve come off nearly 12 hours of travel in one of Lando’s old sweatshirts and a pair of leggings, you haven’t looked in a mirror in equally as long which cannot be a good sign, and most of all you have no idea what you’re going to say to him once you see him. It had been a dream of yours to surprise Lando on a race weekend before - you had always imagined hiding in the driver’s room before FP1 and maybe pulling a cheeky prank or two when Lando showed up, but you had never prepared yourself for something like this.

The key card to Lando’s room lays heavy in your hand, but you want to see if Lando will just open the door for you instead. The sound of your three quiet knocks on his door seem to fill the empty hallway, but you don’t hear any shuffling inside.

“Hey Lan, it’s me.” are the only words you muster before you hear a clatter from inside. Your heart races as you can hear the click of the lock on the door. It’s truly like a scene in a movie, like time has slowed down for just the two of you. Lando rubs at his eyes like he’s seen a ghost, and it’s only when you reach out to touch his cheek does Lando realize that holy shit, you’re really here. He pulls you into his arms so tight that you feel like you can barely breathe and that’s when you hear it. Lando’s not just crying, he’s sobbing into your arms. The dam had finally broken and Lando had someone he could share his burdens with. You’re not sure how long you two stay there like that, Lando’s tears wetting the shoulder of your sweatshirt, you rubbing his back while whispering sweet nothings to him. Your boyfriend clings to you like he’s afraid that you’ll disappear if he lets go, and there’s now a comfortable air between you both. Once you finally pull away and can get a good glimpse at each other, it really sinks in for you that Lando is finally in front of you. While the point of this trip was of course to support your boyfriend, you couldn’t deny that having a long distance relationship for so long had taken a toll on you as well and you were thrilled to finally see him again, regardless of the circumstances.

“Wow Y/N, you look…”

You chuckle and finish Lando’s sentence off for him. “Like garbage I think are the words you’re looking for, Lan” you say as you pick off a piece of cat hair from your sweatshirt that only serves to further prove your point.

“Beautiful, I was gonna say beautiful” Lando says softly, “but honestly I look like a hot mess right now so maybe we’d make a more perfect pair if we go with your description”. He gives you that cheeky smile that you’ve missed so much as he finishes his sentences, and before you know it you’re both giggling like teenagers together. For a moment it feels like you’re just regular Lando and Y/N on the couch back in Lando’s apartment fighting over what movie to watch on Netflix, not like you’re both in the middle of one of the most stressful race weekends of Lando’s career so far.

The rest of the evening is filled with comfort and joy, and when Lando drives to P3 all the way from starting in P10 tomorrow, you’re the first person that Lando searches for in the crowd. A “thank you” is all that he musters out while you’re in his arms, but you can see from his eyes that he means so much more than that.

#f1 imagine #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando fluff #lando angst #ln4 #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fic #f1 angst #f1 fluff #f1 fic #f1 x reader #lando norris imagine #lando x reader #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x you #formula 1 #lando #ln4 imagine

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celestialtarot11 · 6 months

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Your future spouse 💰💍💗 fears, how you’ll meet, etc! Collab 💌

Hey friends! Today we’re doing a lovely collab with the mystical and wonderful @julyourwitch ! This was honestly such a cool collab with her 🤗💘 Ya’ll might wanna sit down for this one…its juicy 👀 we actually had some telepathy going on between us too as we were channeling 🤣 anyway, pick your pile below and enjoy this reading brought to you by us 💘🤗 feel free to comment, like and reblog. Your feedback is appreciated 😍 Happy picking!! (The last pic could not fit properly 😭)

Pile 1 💰🤍: Channeled by the lovely @celestialtarot11 Hi pile 1’s! Welcome to your reading 🙌☕️ let’s get started. Your future spouse is someone who loves spending quality time with you and money💰 your first date could be during the winter season for some of ya’ll, or in the summer. It may involve ice cream as seen in the card 👀 this person may be at a physical distance from you and you’d probably drive a few hours to see them, or have to take the plane. They have no problem paying for the plane 💅🏻 This person mentally & emotionally has fears about the future when it comes to commitment, but I see they are open about this and are willing to work on this with you. They are sweet, reciprocal, open and very chatty 💘💅🏻 they love to sweet talk you and they have a very attractive smile and laugh. Something you’ll feel drawn to. They could have Leo placements and Sagittarius! This person before you meet could work through self sabotage issues, especially abandonment. They’re afraid someone will leave them first, so they’re afraid to show themselves to you but eventually your connection will grow wonderfully. Lots of mutual attraction, values, goals. This is a spiritual connection as well, how you two will meet will be spiritual. You may have visions of them, so will this person. You may feel them close by (their energy) and know they are coming to meet you soon. This is someone who can meet you at your level and show up 🙌 This person could be hesitant to show their feelings for you at first but this will be overcome. I believe spirit is divinely guiding this marriage, and you may actually manifest each other before meeting 💍☕️ this person may do it unconsciously, whereas you may have a whole sit down and journal everything you want in a partner. Honestly thats valid! Get clear on what you want before ya’ll meet, this is important spirit says. For some of ya’ll, ya’ll are ready for this marriage commitment now 💗 ya’ll deeply want this and know what it takes. Spirit is offering guidance and says you’ll get there. Thank you pile 1’s! Feel free to like, reblog and share your thoughts always 🤍 your picture below —>

Pile 2 💼💍: By the lovely @celestialtarot11 Welcome dear pile 2’s! This is your reading if you felt drawn to this. This person could interact with your social media before talking. They may heart your story, stalk your account, and try to know all there is about you before talking you up. They want to get a better sense of who you are, but here’s the thing, social media only shows a small portion of our lives. This person is deeply curious and wants to have a stable connection or idea of you. Eventually this person will text you, find the courage to speak up and start something! It may catch you by surprise but maybe you’ll know this stalking was happening already. For those who do not have social media you could meet them at a wedding, reception, or a regular event. They will be the waiter/waitress, and serve you. But their eye will be on you. They want to know all there is throughout the event. This person overthinks a lot and feels alone and scared in the world, they have a tendency to think they have to do it all alone. This person desires support however and someone to understand them. They want stability, for someone to take their time ❤️‍🩹 they have been through a lot. Its easy for them to get overwhelmed as you two talk for the first time. But they dream of you a lot, daydreaming. They have lots of fantasies of you, and they may even place you on a pedestal. This person does have self esteem issues, this is something that will be worked on through your marriage. There’s an awareness that they want an intimate connection, but also feel they aren’t worthy of it too. This will come up to be healed throughout your relationship. The Share Tenderness card tells me they are someone who is reciprocal, giving, gentle with their hands 😉 and loves knowing how you feel. They will constantly want to know from a place of care. I’m seeing lots of texts when you’re first dating, hows your morning going? Hows your night? How do you feel about xyz? Tell me what you think. Lots of that. Incredibly sweet, but is afraid of loss and rejection. They want you to send pictures of you because they find you beautiful 💘 and attractive. They love to admire you. It’s not necessary sexual in nature although it can develop, but this person has very genuine intentions towards you when they approach you. Not necessarily lustful. I think a part of them is spiritual as well, but it’s in the baby stages of developing. So when they meet you, an awakening will occur. Or many, as much as its needed to grow this person 🤗 i think you two will explore the cosmos together. This person is dreamy, romantic, and has a nostalgic vibe to them. But they won’t show this first. The more you know them, the more they are a softie. Cancer vibes are strong here, so is Scorpio and Virgo 💅🏻 thank you so much pile 2’s!! Feel free to comment, like and reblog 🤗🤍 thank you for your continued support! Your picture below —>

Pile 3 💪❤️‍🩹: Channeled by the one and only @julyourwitch ! Hello viewers, lovely souls and even readers(tarot or not) of the pile 3! Well, let's start with the energy that I feel most strongly from signs: Earth (mostly Virgo and Taurus) Fire (Aries & Sagittarius) and a bit of Air (Gemini & Libra) but I believe there are also some placements that dominate the following signs I mentioned above! I see here that the future husband (whether female or male is not something specific) has high self-esteem and knows how to take care of himself/herself, his/her values, his/her things, important people around him/her, knows how to behave and appreciate the other as well as be appreciated back! I feel like they like to wear good quality clothes and generally obsess about wearing things to feel good about themselves (they don't discriminate against any kind of quality clothes or anything, they've been through that 'poverty' phase too) I believe that respect and manners are everything for them and how much more they see it in those around them. But there is a little ego-pathy or beauty-pathy (I mean, they feel overly beautiful and even enjoy it, I wouldn't characterize them as narcissists anyway!) They appreciate what they have and acquire, mostly they are not ungrateful and this is very important for them not to be something they don't want to become or happen to them in a situation or people. I can tell that they have an obsession or tendencies to obsess over some object or person or something that they create and make it theirs! They really love stability, they don't want to rush at all or make rushy or sudden moves/decisions without properly processing and filtering them. They want everything to be on schedule, even their time off at home/work!Something I noticed now, they may want many other things, such as more money, stability, full schedule, clothes, household items, etc...but they wouldn't at all like to see the other person just like them. As if they'll get competitive or they might make a scene and leave without let you say a word ☠️ They enjoy and rejoice greatly in the positivity of life, the satisfaction and pleasure of what they have achieved and acquired/conquered! They are very optimistic people, they'll always want to help you with the honor and generosity in them (sometimes they will want to take something from you but not maliciously) it seems that they really went through a lot either in their childhood or growing up after puberty(or while they had puberty) and they had some intense situations with people who abused and manipulated them emotionally and physically. I heard very clearly "You know, I can read your mind and how you express yourself just by your facial/body expressions" No matter what they've been through, they know when to speak up if the other person is faking, lying, or trying to hide something. They are grateful for what life has taught them, because they always say "It's all in life, so with a smile and courage it gives you strength and peace within you" Their motto is like" I'll be stronger mentally and emotionally so why should I be scared or a coward?" WOA HAHAAHAH I LAUGHED HARD HERE I'M SORRY 😭😭

Omg pile 3, your future spouse has been really hurt, victim and in a tough situation indeed but they already know that it won't be temporary they're so self aware I can't 🥺🥺 As I said, they cherish and respect people that are honest and real with them,honesty and a stable psychological or mental state are everything to them because that is what they want to see in their partner or in the world. They went through a lot of transformations and they KNEW it would happen (not only self aware here but intuitive people as well) they knew that all these situations and the pain, the impasse all these unbearable and unexpected feelings would lead to a beautiful outcome/beginning, growth and acceptance for themselves and personal/emotional healing. Your future spouse also has been feeling also out (as if they're alone 😭) They also gotta need to understand that being happy or grateful with beautiful and unique appearance won't let you love yourself. (I heard "self love is needed too") Someone closed to them-some close person who played an important role in their lives, honestly treated them like garbage. It made them feel terrible about their bodies (which they are maintaining well so far) it made them think if they really know how to love and appreciate things and people the way they are (I felt a female figure here for some reason in this behavior ) taught them to believe that "If you want to have someone close to you or get married first and foremost you will look at appearance because that is everything, I don't want our image to be ruined". Nawwwww😭😭 they might overthink a lot because of all the shitty things they went through, they don't actually want to show fragile or weak in front of you, they really prefer to not talk about it(yet but slowly their feelings will exposed them once they feel comfortable with you) they'll also be/feel/show as if they're tired but no, not tired IT MIGHT BE THE FIRST GLANCE, but once you meet and understand them better they'll open their heart to you! (I heard" You know sometimes I need your attention.. "😭😭)

With the ace of pentacles upright and 6 of wands upright as extra cards I'm getting that they're open for new opportunities and new connections even professionally and personally too, also they really adore and admire people who value their life and respect their life and family too!

Take what resonates love and leave what it doesn't! Reblog&like it if you had fun &enjoyed!

Pile 4💘🤗: Hello viewers, lovely souls and even readers (tarot or not) of the pile 4! I didn't start yet and I heard very loud ("I do see you right away") AND I GOT CHILLS. I feel for sure that the signs here are fire signs, mainly Leo and Sagittarius, or these two strong fire signs may dominate their astrological chart and they may also have a little water sign here and there (or might have Scorpio or Cancer Rising or MC) That is crazy pile 4 cuz your future spouse is really REALLY interested or into spirituality, energies, reiki and you know when Isay intuition, right?? They ALWAYS FOLLOW THEIR INTUITION AS IF IT'S THEIR BESTIE! I feel that someone higher up has taught them about how to anticipate things or think without overdoing it I feel a motherly side or some feminine energy, it could be the feminine energy/divine feminine in them)! I feel like they didn't have enough friends or they didn't have a big circle of friends, probably just acquaintances and always a smile on their face wherever they go. Such crazy and dynamic energy first time Imeet/ sense. 0o They like to watch instead of talk, they prefer to observe instead of doing it(when it's needed tho) They're really really thoughtful and very wise with their words and how exactly can make you believe and count on them. (Not in a bad way obviously) They won't let you see through them first, they'll first analyze and read you first in oder to be open and free with you Iheard "You'll see if our energy matches or not boo") Sometimes though they make some mental or creative blockages LITERALLY OUT OF NOWHERE, they can have a mini breakdown with themselves and their feelings, but guess what.. THEY'LL BE BACK AGAIN! UNSTOPPABLE ENERGY HAHAHAHA Okay I'm not gonna lie but they might not have a program or some schedule for their plans and goals(as the pile 3) but they're visionary dreamers. Actually they changed a lot of places and traveled a lot and they're not lazy/bored to do it everyday! They're literally OPEN TO EVERYONE AND ANY OPPORTUNITY OR NEW PATH. Guys, pile 4 for real I really like this energy here They're ready for everything omg omg Iheard "Al or nothing. Nothing scares you more than doing nothing or leave it in the middle " I feel that nothing and no one scares them or stops them. They are fearless and want to convey to the world the message "Whatever you do in your life, whatever risks you take, never regret them. They make you strong both mentally and externally, take it as a victory and an experience!" They would like to have such a person by their side, but not quite like them. They're so open-minded and hardworkers for their goals and dreams(they also feel like young in their hearts 9(9) Why Ido keep seeing that they're connected with their higher self and very spiritual aware too? They also tend to be mysterious and secretive mostly their private life, they're so protective with those around them and with their partner(and their life too) but also open to see if the others have good or ill intentions towards them. Sometimes they might confuse their feelings with their intuition too. (They get so deeply in some things to get to know someone till they drain their energy which is very unhealthy) omg they often get misunderstood and disrespected- I CLEARLY HEARD - " I know, it's something from my childhood, it's fine it doesn't scare me at all. Everything is ahabit"

Pile 3,they might be extroverted but inside THEY'RE SOOOO INTROVERTED! I'm getting they have also an artistic way prolly dancing or singing or something related to. (I do see painting , music. Wow they wanna share&explore everything with everyone but sometimes their introverted shyness (not always tho) makes them freeze A BIT and think about it twice. Indeed they have real and few at least 2-3 friends max they trust a lot or dearly, They're so forgiving people and they not what they did wrong or right, they can also notice/find it very easily too. They like people who are outgoing, real and pure with their energy and soul&words too. They pay big attention to eyes and lips -

They currently have some kind of financial loss but Ido see them overcome it! PILE 4 THEY'RE S 0 0 0 0 0 ENERGETIC AND ATTRACTIVE ASF O M G THEY REALLY REALLY LIKE TO TAKE CARE OF THEIR BODY AND THEIR MUSCLES OSSJEJFIXJSJE They’re so active emotionally, physically and spiritually too! Not gonna lie but they enjoy being the center of attention too- HAHAHAHA

Once you meet them guys you won't regret it! They can also bring joy and love and support to others and those around them(even when they're with their partners too) THEY'RE SO ECSTATIC HAHAHAAH REALLY REALLY GOOD THO! They'll be there when you need them not only in the good times but also in your darkest times too, full of energy Iwish Icould describe more but I'm so happy and excited in, if you guys could see my smiley face you would understand!

With the 7 of cups rx and 4 of pentacles upright, it is telling me sometimes their choices or thoughts about their actions and in their love life might be chaotic and overwhelming cuz they confuse themselves and they need some clarity and some guidance and support from their partners) and must hear their inner voice too, and might be overprotective and jealous as well but not in a crazy stage/level of being jealous or possessive too!

Take what resonates and leave behind what doesn't! Reblog &like if you had fun and enjoyed!

Thank ya’ll so much for reading our post! @julyourwitch This was incredibly fun to do with you 🤗💗 Hope ya’ll enjoyed and feel free to like, comment and reblog!

#devi post #astrology #tarotcommunity #divination #astrology community #tarot #tarot deck #witchcraft #tarot reading #tarot community #pick a pile #pick a picture #pick a card #pick one #pick a card romance

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togrowoldinv · 11 months

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Best Closers In The City

Lawyer!Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

You are an associate to some of the most successful attorneys in the city. You’re invited to a special dinner with the partners. What happens when one of them asks you to be her mentee?

Warnings: Smut! 18+ please! Kissing, cursing, very muscular Natasha, degrading, overstimulation (sorta), strap on sex, oral (N receiving)

Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 1, Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 2, Main Masterlist

When you got the job at Romanoff Danvers & Maximoff, you had no idea what to expect. Everyone said it would mean working over 40 hours a week without much praise, but you didn’t care.

You wanted to work for the best law firm in New York City.

You met Danvers, Carol, first. She is alluring, no doubt about that, but she is also brilliant. The woman has a reputation for cleaning up messes quickly and keeping the city safe.

You met Wanda Maximoff second. She oversees the associates, so you see a lot of her. She has the kindest smile you’ve ever seen. Despite being one tough litigator, she is genuinely kind and always asks you how you are doing. Not in a way to make small talk, but like she truly wants to know.

And that leaves Natasha Romanoff. You have seen her around the office, usually early in the morning or late at night, but you haven’t spoken to the woman. There is a sense around the firm that you don’t speak to Natasha unless you’ve made partner or she speaks to you first.

But you really want to talk to her. She is the managing partner, something you long to be one day. Plus, she is gorgeous. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about her in a slightly less than appropriate capacity.

Sometimes she would leave the office with a man or woman waiting for her outside. It was never the same person twice. You wondered what it was like to be them.

When you get to work today, Wanda waltzes into the bullpen with a notepad in hand. She prefers not to use technology.

“Good morning! As you all know, tonight is the annual partner dinner. Carol, Natasha, and I have been observing you all for a while now, so we would like to formally offer the following list of you an invite to the dinner,” Wanda announces.

She is met with chatters of excitement from all of you young, aspiring attorneys. None of you knew when this day was going to come, but here it is. Your chance for a seat at the table.

“I know, I know, it’s very exciting,” Wanda says, a chuckle escaping her lips. “Now here are the associates that will be joining us. Peter Parker, Kate Bishop, and Y/n y/ln.”

You fight the urge to stand up and do a happy dance. Instead, you share a smile with your fellow invitees and accept congratulations from others.

“See you all at 8!” Wanda says. She leaves the bullpen.

“I wonder which one of them picked which of us,” Peter says once the woman is out of sight.

“What do you mean?” You ask.

“Each partner picks an associate. At least that’s what Mr. Stark told me,” he explains.

“Oh, I hope Natasha picked me,” Kate comments. You all laugh.

“Natasha doesn’t speak to any of us, and Carol doesn’t either for that matter. I bet Wanda picked all of us,” you reason.

“Just wait and see where we are placed to sit tonight,” Peter says. “I bet I’m right.”

You forget about the dinner mostly as you dive into your work for the day. But what Peter said does linger in your mind as you gather your bag before walking to the car that is taking you all to dinner.

You figured dinner would be at some restaurant, but the car arrives at a house. A huge one with glorious architecture. There are lions on either side of the entrance. A dark wooden door is up the stairs.

“Holy shit,” Kate speaks for the group as you walk to the door together.

Peter rings the doorbell and the door opens almost simultaneously. Carol is on the other side, a glass of wine in her hand.

“Hello! Come on in,” Carol greets the three of you.

“This is a very nice home you have here, ma’am,” you say.

“Oh, I wish I could take credit for this place. It’s Natasha’s,” Carol explains. “Follow me and we’ll go into the dining room.”

You follow the blonde. Your eyes wander around the house as you admire how perfectly put together the house is. There are very few personal decorations, but there are so many objects that you can imagine have meaning to Natasha.

When you enter the dining room, there are place cards at the table. One for each of you. You sit in your assigned seats and Carol scurries off to the other room to gather her fellow partners.

They file in one by one. Carol sits across from Kate, offering her a smile. Wanda sits across from Peter. And that leaves the seat across from you open. If Peter was right, then that means Natasha chose you.

She is last one to walk in. She sits in the chair across from you and looks up at you through her eyelashes. The woman is even more beautiful up close. Her red hair cascades over her suit lapels and her green eyes shine in the dining room lights. You wonder what that jacket is hiding.

You are admiring her when Wanda begins speaking, “Thank you all for joining us tonight for this very special dinner. And thank you to Natasha for graciously letting us have the dinner at her beautiful home.”

Natasha offers Wanda a nod and a soft smile. One of which Wanda happily returns.

“It’s truly a unique and sought after experience, so I do hope the three of you leave tonight with more knowledge about your chosen career. We picked you from the fine cloth of other associates,” Carol explains.

She looks to Natasha to continue the spiel. You all watch her intently and wait for her to begin.

“Yes, as Carol and Wanda said we invited you three here for a reason,” Natasha says. Her voice is velvety just as you hoped it would be. “It should also be noted that while we all are going to speak to each other tonight, there is also another element to the dinner.”

Subtle glances are shared between you, Kate, and Peter.

“We have decided to improve the tradition and give you each full access to us. You’re sitting from across from the partner that has chosen you to be their mentee, if you so choose to agree,” Natasha explains. She looks you directly in the eye as she says her next words. “And you will agree.”

There is a certain harshness to her tone that you don’t know if it turns you on or scares you deeply. You think it’s both.

Soon, the food is served and the group talks intently. Things about the firm come up, but you find that the women don’t only want to talk business. You see the way Natasha does not offer as much personal information as the others, but she throws in a couple of comments here and there.

After dessert, you are practically itching to ask when you get to learn more about the mentor and mentee relationships. Carol puts you out of your misery when she announces that that part of the night begins now.

“We’ll go to my study,” Natasha says to you. She stands up from the table and leads the way. You can’t help but notice the way her pants hug her backside.

When you enter the room, she closes the door behind you. You take a look around. The walls are lined with bookshelves except for one area where there is a stained-glass window. Pink roses are painted with a landscape of green around them.

Natasha notices you admiring it. “It’s one of a kind,” she says.

“It’s beautiful,” you comment.

“Thank you,” she says. She walks to her desk and gestures for you to sit in the chair on the other side.

You sit, but she remains standing as she takes the suit jacket off. You notice the way the buttons strain against her chest, and her arms are noticeably toned even through the mid length sleeves she is wearing.

“You might want to stop staring,” Natasha says, pulling you out of your trance.

“I’m sorry,” you rush out the apology.

“Mhm,” she hums. You can’t read her, so you don’t know if she was flattered or upset by your stares. Your nerves are at a high. “So, y/n, what are your career goals?”

“I want to- um- well- I want to make partner one day,” you say.

“That sounds reasonable,” Natasha remarks. She stands up from her desk and walks around to your side. Her hands grip the desk and she leans against it. Once again, your eyes rake over the tight-fitting shirt. “Why family law?”

“It seemed like the path where I could do the most good,” you explain.

“And that’s what you want to do? Good?”

“Yes ma’am,” you say. “Why did you-”

“I’m asking the questions, y/n,” she interrupts you, standing at her full height again.

“I’m sorry,” you say.

“You’re too quick to apologize,” Natasha scolds you lightly.

You don’t know how to reply. She walks to her drink cart in the corner and pours herself a shot of what you presume is vodka and she swallows it quickly. You watch her every moment before she turns back around. You avert your gaze.

“Y/n,” Natasha says. She invades your space, her hand gripping your chin to force you to look up at her. “Do you know why I chose you to mentor?”

You try to shake your head, but her grip is too firm.

“No, I don’t,” you speak softly.

Natasha grins wickedly as she keeps her hand on you. Only she moves it to the side of your face, her fingers arching over your neck and touching the base of your hairline.

“I chose you because I think you’re intelligent. And you’re capable and hard-working,” Natasha explains. You feel your cheeks burning from the compliments. “But you’re also naïve, and you’re a bit of a pushover.”

Oh. There it is. Your eyes burn as you fight back tears, cursing yourself for being unable to handle criticism.

“I don’t tell you this to upset you, y/n,” Natasha says, her voice softening just a hair. “I can help you be better. You have the instincts. It’s just that someone needs to toughen you up.”

“Okay,” you say. “How did you- nevermind,” you remember you aren’t the one asking the questions.

“How did I what?” Natasha inclines you to continue.

“How did you even know all of this? You don’t speak to us associates.”

“Oh, I may not speak but I’m always listening,” Natasha says. “And trust me, sweetheart, I see everything.”

You shiver at her words. Everything means that she might have seen you watch her leave all of those nights. You avert your gaze, and her hand grip strengthens again.

“Tell me, y/n, have you been watching me?” She knows the answer, so she doesn’t bother waiting for you to speak. “Since you have been, maybe you would like to see more of me?”

“I- um-” you can’t formulate words.

Natasha releases you from her grasp and steps back so you can see all of her. She starts slow, unbuttoning her shirt. Each button strains and your eyes follow her movements. Her hands are deft as they move against her shirt purposefully.

When she gets to the last button, she looks you directly in the eyes and pulls the shirt away from her body. That uncovers her chest and her arms. Your eyes don’t know what part of her to look at first.

“Don’t just sit there,” Natasha says sternly.

You stand up quickly and she takes your hand. She brings it to her abs. Your other hand follows. You brush your hands over her abs, an undoubtable eight-pack, and she smirks. You move further up to her abdomen to her rib cage area and run your hands over a couple of tattoos.

Natasha didn’t seem like the type to have these, but they make her impossibly hotter. Your hands skip over her bra-covered chest and move to her biceps. The woman flexes her arms, and you feel weak in your knees.

“Do you like what you see?” Natasha asks, her voice is deeper than usual.

“I do,” you say. “Can I?”

She knows what you mean, and she reaches behind her own back to unhook her bra. The garment falls to the floor. You take one breast in your hand as you move your mouth to the other. You look up at Natasha as if asking for permission. She nods and you place your lips around her nipple.

You suck thoughtfully and lick around the perky buds, switching between breasts. Natasha makes beautiful sounds as you do so. When you kiss down her abdomen, she lets out a gasp. You fully intend to worship her entire body.

“Take off my pants, baby,” Natasha instructs you.

Your fingers work to unbutton and unzip her suit pants. Kneeling in front of her, you pull the pants down her legs. For some reason, you expected her to be wearing panties, but she is wearing black boxers. Her thighs are muscular and your urge to be between them increases when you notice the bulge in her boxers.

“Fuck Natasha,” you mumble. She lets out a chuckle.

“Did my good, sweet associate just say fuck?” She teases.

You answer by pressing kisses against the skin of her thighs that are revealed. Nat gets impatient and pushes her own boxers down her legs. All that she’s left wearing is a strap.

Natasha takes it in her own hand and directs it towards your mouth. You comply quickly and suck the cock. She moves her hips faster with every passing second, loving how you take the thick length.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” she says. “God, I’ve wanted to have you kneeling for me since the first day I saw you in the office.”

You groan at her words and continue your ministrations. That is until Natasha needs more, and she pulls you up by your shirt collar.

“Take off your pants,” she tells you. “Now.”

Nat doesn’t wait for them to reach the floor before she has you bent over her desk as she enters you from behind. It’s easy from how wet you are from the entire evening.

“You take my cock so well, baby,” she says, her mouth right next to your ear. “I know you’ve imagined this too.”

“I have,” you admit, your voice broken from the pleasure she is bringing you. She moves in and out of you, hitting you right where you need her every time. Her arms hold you tightly against her.

When Natasha places a few kisses on your neck, you whine, and her grip tightens.

“I’m gonna- fuck Nat- I’m gonna come,” you say.

“Come for me, sweetheart,” Natasha says. “Tell me how good it feels.”

You groan out a string of incoherent words as you come for Natasha. She feels the slick against her strap as she continues to take you from behind.

“Too much, Nat,” you mumble when she still hasn’t stopped her movements.

“Come on, baby, you can take one more,” Natasha says firmly. “You want to be good for me, don’t you?”

“Yes- fuck- yes ma’am,” you reply.

It doesn’t take long for you to come again. This time she relents and pulls out of you. Your head is fuzzy from the overstimulation, but you’ve never felt so good.

Natasha releases you from her grasp and you turn around to face her. She has an almost goofy grin on her face, and you know she is pleased with her work. But you remember she hasn’t come yet.

“May I take care of you?” You ask her, reaching for the strap again.

“I think you’ve earned it. Go ahead,” she says. Nat takes her own initiative to take the strap off of her hips.

You once again kneel in front your mentor, but this time you waste no time burying your face between her legs. You collect her wetness with your tongue and make quick work of finding her clit.

“Fucking good,” Natasha mumbles as you lick and suck. She holds onto your shoulders as you continue. It feels good to make a woman so strong feel weak in her knees.

You hum against her, and she is almost over the edge. All it takes is for you to add one finger to work in tandem with your mouth and she is coming hard against you.

After cleaning her up, you stand up to face her again.

“Come here,” she says, pulling you by your hips into her hold.

She kisses your lips slowly at first. Her tongue brushes against yours. But she picks up the pace and you’re left breathless from your first kiss with the woman.

“So, what did you think?” Natasha asks.

“I think I want to do that again,” you say, dumbstruck from the events.

“In due time, y/n. Right now we need to get dressed and say goodnight to everyone,” Natasha says.

She turns to look for her shirt and it’s then that you notice the tattoos on her back.

“Roses,” you say aloud. Your eyes glance back towards the window.

“Roses,” Natasha turns back to you and says. “You wanted to ask why I chose family law.” She puts the shirt back over her arms and back.

“I did.”

“My sister,” Natasha says. “We were separated as kids. I am still trying to find her. In the meantime, I can help other people.”

“And was she named Rose?” you ask, hoping you aren’t pushing.

“Her name is Yelena. But she loved roses, so I guess it’s my way of feeling connected to her.” You haven’t seen her speak this softly about anyone.

“That’s really beautiful, Natasha,” you say.

“Yeah,” she says. “Do you maybe want to stay for a little while after everyone leaves?”

“I’d love to,” you say, a smile on your face.

“Good because I want to snuggle,” she admits. You share a chuckle and finish getting dressed together.

You leave her study and everyone goes about their way except for you and Natasha. You stay at her house and learn everything about her. Talking all night, sharing kisses, and a couple more rounds of intense sex, you have a perfect time with her.

This isn’t what you expected out of working for Natasha Romanoff, but you will take it.

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