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#oh wow this sure got long
serenanymph · 1 year
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Hey everyone! I'm Serena - you can call me Ser - and my pronouns are she/her. This is the writeblr for @murderousewpecspredator! I'll mostly be reblogging writing resources, advice, inspiration etc. here. I'll also be posting my original fics and art, plus updates and snippets (and occasional screaming) as I work on my wips, so be on the lookout for that!
My works tend to include:
➼ high fantasy (occasionally dabbling in urban fantasy, dystopia or sci-fi) ➼ traumatized teenagers forming found families ➼ characters all flavors of queer + male-female friendships and queerplatonic relationships!! ➼ sad backstories ➼ hurt/comfort. SO much hurt/comfort. but also eventual happy endings where the characters get to live peacefully :) ➼ at least one character who is stubbornly kind in the face of a cruel world ➼ and hope!!! I love hope
Find me on: ao3 | wattpad
I'm looking for more writing mutuals so feel free to reply if you share similar writing genres/interests, and I'll give you a follow!
(works under cut)
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WIPS
𝐵𝐸𝒜𝒮𝒯
In a world where monsters live in the woods - creatures with the ability to shift forms and wield magic - humans and Beasts have been fighting for centuries. One summer morning, Crys Averwell finds a crow-boy in the forest who has had his wings brutally hacked off.
Unfortunately, saving him from bleeding out is the easy part - because hiding the existence of a Beast from Crys's village, and finding a way for said Beast to get home?
That's going to be another story entirely.
𝒪𝓇,
My current wip!! High fantasy series with found families, banter™ and protags who aren't the heroes or the chosen ones but are just really, really unlucky. Also contains,
large casts
the Sarcastic Withdrawn one + the Ray of Sunshine Extroverted one
a Journey
undead creatures
cool magic with runes and potions and spells and Artifacts
Forests. and Mountains. and More Forests
discrimination, eventual rebellion, blowing stuff up
Sad Times
𝐵𝑜𝑜𝓀𝓈
➢ Crow Wings (2nd draft complete, 3rd draft to be started somewhere in July or August) ➢ Witch's Book (1st draft in progress) ➢ Untitled book 3, 4 and possible 5
series/book 1 intro, book 2 intro
taglist (lmk if you want to be +/-): @deer-in-headlights-stare, @allianaavelinjackson, @arctic-oceans, @space-writes, @reneesbooks
𝒞𝑜𝓇𝓇𝓊𝓅𝓉𝑒𝒹
It's the start of a new school year, and Sakoto Misami's brother has disappeared. Another runaway, people whisper - but Sami knows her brother isn't like that, knows that Irumi would never abandon them.
So when police fail to track him down, she decides to investigate on her own. And the things she finds begin to make her wonder - had she never known her brother after all?
Her questions are promptly answered when, that Friday night, on a deserted train platform, the lights flicker, and something inhuman comes out of the tunnel. Straight for her.
Enter the Swords.
𝒪𝓇,
The half-defined urban fantasy wip I take out to blow dust off of occasionally, because I cannot juggle for the life of me. I do write snippets sometimes though, and I'll properly get into it sometime in the future. Includes,
Cool Swords
spirit companions
a Weird Magic System involving Threads and Needles and Weaving and Fabric. I swear it makes sense I just haven't figured it out yet
subways!!! alleyways!!! parkours and night views and leaping from rooftop to rooftop!!!
traumatized teens, again, and found family, again. But also actual family
qprs!!! heck yeah I love qprs
Yeah that's pretty much it. I have a handful of other ideas I may mention once in a blue moon, but they're sitting on the backburner for now since I'm only able to focus on one project at a time. I also dabble in fanfic, and might occasionally post a short story or a poem, but that's all gotten to be pretty rare.
I'll make proper pages in a while, but until then feel free to poke around in the main tags! The gen tags are #beast and #corrupted, while official tags are #wip: beast and #wip: corrupted (though the last one is largely empty).
See you around!
-Ser
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capn-twitchery · 1 month
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very messy grace wip i may or may not finish >:3
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loafbud · 11 months
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The first Splatoon game turned 8 yesterday!
#the last (and first) time i drew anniversary art for the first game was when it turned 1 year#imna use the tags to be all sappy real quick:#ive been a huge fan of the splatoon series since the first game & have played it since day one#splatoon is the first time ive grown up with a game series from the beginning#like i knew it was gonna be a successful game that'd eventually grow and become a series w/ a cool fanbase#for first/third person shooter games (esp multiplayer)- i could never call myself a fan of those#but the moment splatoon debuted in an e3 trailer??? it took a concept i'd normally go meh to- but made it into smthn colorful/unique#like??? weeks after the announcement i was already gushing over what the lore would be in their universe#it got really tiring seeing all the hate it received- id watch ppl stream it out of interest and their chat'd be like uggh this ass title?#or id watch gamers do one single lets play of it and be like oh ok i can see how this game is fun (me assuming they'd doubt it's potential)#but to see how much splatoon as a series has grown has me kinda emotional ngl#like yeah sure theres still ppl outside the fandom who has (or still has since the 1st game) sour opinions about it#but ever since the fandom grew over those 8 years- it feels like the love for this series outshines that#but man.... i said this already on twt but i remember going to my first color run event locally w/ my family#(this happened weeks before the game came out btw) -but id have my phone out with the inklings on my screen#and id look at my phone & feel this happiness (that i havent felt in a while tbh) at being in an event that had a lot of colors in it#and at the time seeing all the powdered colors flying everywhere at the end of the race reminded me of splatoon sm i was like raaaaah#WOW SORRY FOR THE LONG TAGS LOL#BUT YEAH- I LOVE THIS SERIES (thats all i wanted to say)#splatoon#splatoon anniversary#splatoon 8th anniversary#fanart#loafbud
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keeps-ache · 19 hours
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little soup cans are some of the neatest things we have, wish there were more soup-can-like things in this world
#just me hi#though canopeners need to stop being deadly weapons to some degree before that hfhs#'they're not deadly tho ?' well usually yes. but did you know that they can age Badly? i did not!#and the one I was using was dulled to an extent that it would Skip over a part of the can#(nearly the same spot every time lol) and when I thought I'd managed to fool it and had only#the tiniest bit of metal between me and some beans (pretty sure it was beans) I thought#'ohh I'll just pull up the can lid :)' Well the lid snapped off completely towards and Into my hand#and I had a bean-can wound on my pinky for about a week or so. I do not know how long it's been lol#//but soup cans are pretty cool I feel like they're kinda underappreciated !!#you can just have Soup ? Whenever ??? and it's Normal !! wow :D#sure making soup is pretty great. but that's a process man. and we're not even associates#[<- 'a process I am (not) intimate with']#like there is a little can of menudo in the pantry rn - medunito they call it isn't that just !! - and it's just there. it can be made in#like 10 minutes. is this Not the best thing ever ! ?#//I've also gotta figure out this sleeping thing that I've got going on (everybody has it going on)#I was maybe half a week into actually have a consistent thing going but the night I stopped was bc I am a sucker of a storyteller and we#were up til about. I think 4-6 a.m.#that's on me yes. my siblings vs. my desire to tell stories and rubber willpower hfbdh#a deadly match truly#and also I lost my snoopy watch (RIP snoopy watch you will be missed (I can't find it send help Waough)) and that was the only clock I had#in this room so now if I wanna know the time I have to go the living room - which is like a whole dang thing lemme tell you about it#/first I've gotta get up - easiest thing by far - and get to the door - assuming I don't get KO'd by my siblings' belongings on the floor -#get to the door. the door Is broken to some extent. opening it means a loud THDPD noise is sent throughout the entire house lol. and you#have to yank on the thing to get it open - so double effort there - and then you step out into the hallwayish area where you can then enter#the living room - oh so easy! but No! you then have to either turn on the kitchen lights and wake everyone with their door open or sleeping#in the living room for whatever reason Orrr you have to clamber over chairs pots perhaps a cat if you've got real bad luck that night to ge#up nice n personal to the clock so you can read the dang thing and see it's 11:23. which is like nothing so you stay up Anyway and do not#check the clock again because not only was that a hassle but also you released every creature that was in the room with you (that's a lot o#noise). but Yea the clock situation is ongoing hfbsh#'why don't you get a clock' that would be much too easy loll :) (last one disappeared and we keep forgetting lol) //ran out of tag space so
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wovenstarlight · 10 months
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diarma finally as dead in novel as he is in webtoon (presumably) (i don't read the webtoon god bless)
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I gotta figure out what the ages are because Irey, Jai and Maxine are all eight. Tai is the same age as Irey and Keli is... 9.
Bobby and Cerdian are dead so if Adams wants to bring them back then he can really bring them back at any age. BUT! Saying that, Bobby would realistically be younger than Lian and older than the West twins (11?) and Cerdian was five years younger than Lian (putting him at 8 ish). Mar'i doesn't exist so if he wants to bring in an alt Mar'i he can really do whatever.
Osul-Ra and Otho-Ra are 12. Maps is 12-13.
Lian is ... 13? 12? 11? She's young but she's also definitely a preteen.
Age gap of five years from oldest to youngest. But wow, that's a young team. I mean... wow. Wally was fighting crime at ten and Dick was fighting crime at nine so it's not unprecedented. But jfc that is young.
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shekeepsmeworms · 10 months
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Had some wine feeling good made a really shitty bowl in ceramics class this morning that I’m really worried has a bunch of air holes in it and had a really crappy therapy session where I didn’t talk too much but was honest about some other stuff which is good overall I guess but now I’m doing drunk crochet and watching the Duggar family documentary and probably going to stop watching soon once they start talking about the awful stuff but yeah day in the life of a woman doing her best I guess
#like both sides of my family are either Irish catholic. converted assimilation catholic. or part Jewish but raised catholic.#but my mom read the Boston glob report so I wasn’t baptized or anything and despite her born again phase I’ve never really been religious#so the thought of growing up in that environment is like I can’t imagine the pressure oh my god#like I’ve had Mormon friends and have some friends who were raised homeschool Christian married young and all and like#i don’t know it’s just wild how different our lives are like I’ve got a problems and def inherited the guilt complex thing for sure but like#I also never got told to submit to anyone or that god was watching#or to be modest or any of the purity stuff beyond normal patriarchy stuff#like I’m not saying my life is better but I didn’t do church after age 5 and only go to funeral masses so I like the comfort of like#doing sign of cross and saying Hail Mary and all bc it provides structure for grief but beyond that I can’t imagine living with all of that#these are very long tags with no real point beyond wow. that’s literally bananas to me. but did I mention I’m a little drunk#and even then my family isn’t like hardcore catholic. my grandma and her siblings skipped church to get donuts bc no farm work on Sunday#and my dad grew up like doing fasted mass and everything but heard the 2000s Harvey milk speech and realized gay ppl are okay#and then rest of extended dads side is like catholic but vote blue and think human rights are good and all#my mom has a student who’s like very traditional catholic like she was trying to teach him math and whatever#and the live coverage of waiting for pope confirmation was on tv the whole time#and he fights with her about evolution and learning about the existence of other religions and everything#so I guess even in my own family like. everyone’s down with basic science and civil liberties which is even weirder for me I guess#like not even among fundamentalists like just regular Catholics I’ve had a pretty liberal upbringing re faith. it’s just wild to me#to see the differences of worldview#and even non religion stuff was pretty liberal overall despite living in pretty red area. idk it’s just wild how different life can be
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4giorno · 4 months
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googles "will i be arrested if i play the exact same bg3 character for the third time in under 2 months"
#like again i know. i paid 70€ for this game i can play it however the fuck i want#but i still feel kind of. embarrassed?? esp bc im at my parents for christmas and new years and they know ive played this character twice#and like surely i should want to do something different after like 250 hours and yet... 😭😭😭😭😭#and ive realised that i never found the blood of lathander and my character def would want to get it even if it destroyed an ancient temple#and ive seen even more dialogue that i missed bc somehow i couldve long rested more frequently even tho i made a conscious effort to do tha#the second time around (bc i started playing multiplayer with my parents and already we got long rest stuff i never saw 💀)#also dialogue choices that fit him more but i was still too scared to pick bc i was afraid id get insta killed#or a companion would get so pissed off theyd leave..........#you could be like oh so you know what happens why would you play it but like why does anyone play sims or something#like sometimes you wanna see your little guys in scenarios 😭#(OH also i wanted to see if i could give astari0n worms in the beginning since he wanted them so bad#and it was literally one of the things he and my character bonded over as in they were the only bitches who thought they should use them#i just never thought to give any to him even tho he asked bc i always forget i can do stuff with the companions#AND im always afraid ill fuck something up for them gfkfjdhfkgkf)#anyway the point is wow still i have an unreasonable attatchment to this character of mine and i love him sm#and somehow i dont get bored of playing the same character after two full campaigns
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They weren't kidding when they said studying filmmaking would ruin change the viewing experience forever. I can't watch anything without a running commentary about lighting and framing and blocking and logistics and whatnot running through my mind. But I also get to appreciate all the little details that I wouldn't have noticed before. And I get to acknowledge things that might seem like an issue on the surface, and then discard them and choose to enjoy what I'm watching anyway. I like having that power.
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terrestrialnoob · 12 days
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Damian had never seen another person his age before.
“Wow, you're good at that.”
Damian froze in his practice and looked over at the boy. It was after his lesson, his instructor had other students to teach, and Damian had his own private training area. Well, it was supposed to be private. “Who are you?”
“Danny, what's your name?”
Damian glared at the boy. Who doesn't know who he is? “I am Damian Al-Ghoul, grandson of the Demon's Head, son of the Bat, heir to the League of Assassins.”
“Wow, that's a lot... Can I just call you Damian?”
“Servants call me Master. How did you get here?”
Danny shrugged, “I was just looking around.”
“Just looking around...”
“Yeah, my parents are in the science lab down in the bottom basement with the weird lake and I was helping them, but then I got board and Jazz said I wasn't allowed to leave the lab, but when I asked Dad, he said I could do what I want as long as I don't get in trouble.”
“Oh, the idiot scientists.” Damian remembered how his mother had described the new scientists hired to study the Lazarus Pools. A pair of geniuses when it came to the scientific study of magic but idiots in all other fields. Surely only idiots would bring their children to live with the League of Assassins.
“What do you mean? If you're a scientist you can't be an idiot?”
Damian huffed at the boy. “You can be smart at one thing and dumb at others. Like you could be good at reading but bad at numbers.”
“Oh, I guess that makes sense. But I'm pretty good at reading and numbers.” Danny then smiled brightly, “It looks like you're really good at swording though.”
“It's called swordplay. And yes, I am good at it. Better at it at my age than many who are older.”
“Can you show me how to do it?”
Damian contemplated for a moment, “As long as you don't get in the way of my practice, I don't see why not.”
Danny cheered as he ran up to where Damian was standing, but Damian pointed to the side of the training area, “There should be a spare sword over there you can use.”
Danny nodded and ran to get it then ran back.
Damian wasn't sure if he'd like showing Danny how to use a sword, but he liked how Danny followed all his instructions. It was different than how the servants followed his orders, but Damian couldn't place why. It became common place, for Danny to show up after Damian's lessons and Damian would show him what he'd learned. It actually made learning new things easier because Damian had to figure out how exactly something worked in order to show Danny how to do it. Not only that, but when they practiced the moves on each other, Danny would change them and make it harder to beat him. Damian did win every time, but Danny wasn't half bad.
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obsessivevoidkitten · 5 months
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A Day In Blood-Swell Swamp
Yandere Frog Hybrid x Gender Neutral Reader (CW: Noncon, non-human genitalia, oviposition, general yandere behavior, misunderstanding, reader stuck in mud) Word Count: 1.7k (The yandere in this is a cinnamon roll. A real sweetie. Needed another one like him. He misread the reader's intent and is not at all a bad guy. Really hope you guys like him)
You were an artist on a mission. You were traveling all over your country to sketch the flora, fauna, and landscapes of various habitats. You had already visited several different forests and a couple of prairies.
Now you found yourself in Blood-Swell Swamp. The waters of the swamp were a deep red color. Many people in nearby towns were superstitious about the place and its odd colored water, but you knew it was just a combination of iron filled water and algae.
You rowed the tiny boat you had purchased and found a dry outcrop of trees overlooking the water logged scenery.
When you looked at the impressive sanguine waters and wetland forest sprawling out in front of you, you knew you had made the right decision.
You got out and tied the boat to a tree, the waters were still, but better safe than sorry.
Once you decided on a good spot to look at you pulled out your sketchbook. The first thing you sketched was a frog on a lily pad beside a blooming water lily. The next thing was a cluster of unique purple flowers.
After that you began the larger task of drawing the landscape as a whole.
You had just about finished when you heard a splash and then an enthusiastic male voice behind you.
"HI!!!"
You turned around and almost fell over. If the sudden presence of an unknown man behind you hadn’t been enough to scare you, the fact that he wasn’t human would have.
He was crouched down on very athletic looking legs, wearing nothing but a loincloth. He had long webbed toes and fingers that matched, though he only had four fingers. His mouth was a bit too long and his eyes were large and purple. He was a bit shorter than you but he clearly had a strong and compact body.
But the most odd thing was the color of his skin. He was a deep cherry red with the color transitioning into blue on his arms and legs past his elbows and knees.
His medium length black hair dripped as he tilted his head and spoke again.
“Hello? Are you okay? What are you doing?”
You collected yourself, still frightened by his appearance despite his so far friendly demeanor.
“Uh…”
“Are you okay??”
You flinched backwards as he stepped towards you. He stopped approaching as he noticed you were uncomfortable.
“I just… never saw a… what you are before…”
“Oh! Well I am a frogkin. I have seen a human or two before, but only from a distance.”
You were about to respond but he cut you off, he seemed to be really excited to have someone to chat with.
“My name is Cobi, what’re you called?”
You mentally scolded yourself for your rude and frightened demeanor and forced yourself to calm down and introduce yourself. You were in his territory after all, and he had been nothing but polite to you. You gave him your name and explained to him that you were an artist there to sketch the beauty of the swamp. You showed him your sketches.
“Oh wow, we don’t have any artists here. I have never even heard of sketches. We have some wall paintings in some of our huts, but nothing like this!”
The frog man was clearly impressed.
“Oh, I couldn’t live without being able to draw all the beauty around me. Hey, could I draw you? Just a quick sketch!”
If the skin on his face wasn’t already red you would have been able to see that he was blushing. If you drew beautiful things then that must mean you thought he was beautiful. The notion made his heart flutter.
“S-sure!” Cobi said in his ever chipper voice.
You spent some time sketching him, despite your original plan to get just a quick one in, he happily let you get a couple extra. One with him in the water and one of him crouched on a dead log.
When you finished your sketching you fished some sandwiches out of your backpack and offered one to Cobi. He took it and sniffed inquisitively trying to figure out what it was.
“It’s food, it’s called a sandwich.” You took a few bites of yours and then he took a few cautious nibbles before his eyes lit up and he stuffed the whole thing in his mouth at once. You had to stifle a laugh.
"Thank you, that was super yummy!"
Cobi was blushing more. You drew him because you thought he was beautiful. Attractive. And now you gave him food. Surely that meant you were interested in him right? People of the swamp didn’t just give food away! You gave food to those you liked. Friends, family, and potential mates you were courting!
Even if it was subconscious you probably were trying to court him. And he really wanted to explore the possibility of being your partner too, you were so kind and interesting.
But he didn't want to jump the gun and assume before he had a bit more solid evidence. So instead of asking or acting on what he felt all the evidence pointing to he just hung around and chatted with you a bit more while you finished your meal.
You finished your food slowly, enjoying your time getting to know the inquisitive frogkin. You answered all of his seemingly inexhaustible supply of  questions.
When you finished and said your goodbyes he seemed sad, but you were a traveler. You couldn't really make lasting friendships. And then, when you started to get up, you fell right over your own feet. Your arm stuck in some thick mud with your face low to the ground and your ass pointed up.
And that was all the confirmation Cobi needed. Ass up and presenting. The universal signal to breed!
If you had been able to see his face you would have seen that he was flustered beyond measure. You were also far too preoccupied to notice what Cobi was muttering.
"Oh... well I thought that maybe you just wanted to c-court and get to know one another better... I thought.. I j-just um... well it's just that... I-I have never even done it before... but... it seems like you really want to..."
Despite it being a bit fast he supposed he had become quite smitten with you. And, well, maybe humans coupled faster than frogkin. And he really didn't want to hurt you or offend you!
"O-okay, I'll do it!" He exclaimed loudly.
You were finally almost out of the muck and were about to ask him what he was going to do when he suddenly pulled your pants down and slid his huge tongue right into your entrance. You shuddered in shock and ended up with both hands stuck in the mud.
"Wh-what are you doing!?"
Cobi wasn't paying any attention to your words, not as lost in his efforts to loosen up your hole in preparation for the main event as he was. He gripped your legs with his webbed hands as his tongue probed you as deeply as possible, kneading and throbbing and gently stretching out your insides.
The pleasure was indescribable. You wanted Cobi to stop, but time you tried to articulate a protest the only sound you managed to produce was a loud moan or gasp.
And of course the only possible reaction Cobi could have to that was to think that he was doing a great job making his new mate nice. And he wanted to feel good with you.
He removed the slimy tongue from your entrance and removed his loincloth. Cobi then aligned his engorged cock and drew circles against it with before tip before slowly sinking into your tight heat. He had held reservations about making love to you so soon into courting, but now that he was inside you the last of them had melted away.
"Oh, oh, ooohh, you feel so amazing! I-i think you were meant for this pretty artist~"
Much in the same way that your resolve had melted away under the burning flood of pleasure Cobi was drowning you in. Judging by how it felt it was no human cock. It was much longer, a little thicker, and felt a bit slimy. With every thrust you lost a bit more of yourself until you were moving back against his movements, desperately trying to chase the orgasm you were building up to.
You had just come here to help along your art and now here you were in the mud mounted like a bitch in heat and enjoying it. It would have been humiliating if you had the capacity to dwell on such matters.
There were more important things to think about right now. Like the cock breeding you. The feel of unnaturally heavy nuts smacking into you. The soft and attentive lips kissing up your backside, straining to reach your neck.
You arched your back as you had the most mind shattering climax of your life.
"I can't hold back anymore. You sketched for me. L-let me just paint your insides for you~"
And then you learned why his nuts felt so heavy as they slammed against you. As he filled you he deposited much more than just normal cum. Over dozens of small round objects flooded into you and adhered themselves to your walls.
"Wh-what the?"
Cobi plucked you out of the mud with ease and pulled you into his lap as he sat down, with his prick still buried snugly inside of you. He held you close to his sweaty body and caressed your belly lovingly.
Now that you had a moment to process your predicament and the events that had just transpired you were completely dumbfounded. One moment you were trying to get out of the mire and the next you were being fucked.
"I'm so glad you wanted to be mates~"
Your mind was reeling trying to come up with a response to such an outrageous claim. When had you expressed anything resembling such a des-
"Mmmm~" Instead you could only reply with a pathetic pleased whimper as Cobi began rolling his hips, grinding into you and very slowly fucking you for a second time.
"Don't worry, I have plenty more eggs just for my sweet artist~"
You could only lean back against him and drool as he wrapped his arms around you possessively and temporarily fucked your mind away once more.
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pucksandpower · 2 days
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Say My Name
Oscar Piastri x streamer!Reader
Summary: when fans mistake Oscar for your ex while he is hanging around in the background of your stream, you get introduced to a side of Oscar that you’ve never seen before
Warnings: 18+ content
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Your fingers fly across the keyboard as you narrate the intense battle unfolding on your stream. “Oh damn, that was close! I almost got sniped there.” You lean in, eyes narrowed at the screen. “Gotta be more careful or this round is over.”
The chat explodes with messages cheering you on. Being one of the top female gaming streamers has its perks, like an incredibly loyal fanbase that hangs on your every word.
You glance at the viewer count — over 50,000 watching live. Not too shabby.
“Okay team, let’s rush B, I’ll try to draw their fire.” You move your character into position, heart pounding with anticipation.
Suddenly, a quiet thump comes from the living room behind you. You start, whipping your head around, but see nothing amiss through the open doorway. Must have been your imagination.
You refocus on the game, calling out tactics to your teammates. Another muffled sound, like something soft hitting the floor, catches your attention. You turn off your video and hit mute on your mic. “Hello? Is someone there?”
No response. You’re just about to unmute when a very familiar face pops into view from the hallway. It’s your boyfriend of nearly two years.
Your face splits into a huge grin as you take in his messy hair and the rumpled clothes he slept in on the flight. “Oscar! You’re back early!”
He crosses to you, bending to press a kiss to the top of your head. “Missed you,” he mumbles against your hair.
You tilt your face up for a proper kiss, “I missed you too, ba-”
But you’re cut off as his lips crash into yours, insistent and heated. Heat blooms in your cheeks at the sudden, passionate embrace. Far too soon, Oscar pulls away, leaving you flustered and breathless.
“Sorry,” he says with a smirk that suggests he’s anything but. “Couldn’t help myself.”
You shake your head, laughing. “You’re ridiculous. I’m working, you know.”
“So I noticed.” Oscar settles onto the couch just off-camera, casual as can be. “Don’t mind me, keep going.”
“You sure?” You eye him skeptically. The stream has been on a short period without your commentary and the chat is getting restless. “I can take a break if you want.”
He waves a dismissive hand. “No, no, I’m just going to hang out here for a bit. Go ahead.”
Hesitating only a moment, you turn your video back on and unmute your mic. “Alright folks, sorry about that little pause. I, uh, got a surprise visitor.” You gesture vaguely toward where Oscar lounges behind you.
The chat instantly lights up with questions about who was there. Smiling to yourself, you ignore them for now, re-focusing on the game.
Over the next hour, it becomes increasingly difficult to concentrate. Oscar keeps distracting you, making silly faces and gestures whenever you glance his way. More than once you have to stifle a laugh after catching sight of him. Your fans seem to find your giggly mood delightful, though they remain oblivious to the cause.
Finally, in a rare break between matches, you swivel in your chair to face him. “You’re being so disruptive,” you stage-whisper. “Don’t you have better things to do than pester me?”
Oscar feigns innocence. “Who, me? I’m just sitting here, love.”
Rolling your eyes, you stretch your arms overhead with a groan, back popping from sitting so long. Oscar’s gaze shamelessly rakes over you, darkening.
“Stop looking at me like that,” you mutter, fighting a smile.
“Like what?” His eyes glint with mischief.
You open your mouth to respond, but a new donation notification pops up on your stream, cutting you off. “Oh, wow, thanks for the ten thousand bits, Legend27!” The expensive donation isn’t that unusual, but the comment attached gives you pause.
I’m so happy you and Eric made up! You two are couple goals for real.
Frowning, you scan the new barrage of messages flooding the chat … and find dozens echoing similar sentiments.
Your stomach drops as you finally realize what your viewers think is happening. They assume Oscar is actually your ex, the one you briefly dated and had an awful breakup with over two years ago. Apparently his surprise appearance has led them to believe you two have reconciled.
Heat floods your face at the misunderstanding. Objecting seems pointless though — you’ve learned it’s better not to discuss your private romantic life on stream. “Ah, thanks guys, you’re too kind,” you finally say, aiming for a neutral tone.
Beside you, Oscar stiffens, catching the implications of the messages. His jaw clenches and you watch as his face cycles through a series of micro-expressions — first surprise, then confusion, quickly followed by displeasure and … jealousy?
Uh oh. This could get messy fast if he gets worked up. You try to subtly shake your head at him in a silent plea to ignore the chat.
No such luck. His brow furrows deeper and you can practically see the tension ratcheting up in his shoulders.
Suddenly, Oscar surges to his feet with a muttered curse. Before you can react, he’s stalking around the side of your chair until he’s directly in view of the camera’s frame.
“Oscar, what are you-”
But he cuts you off by cupping your face in his hands and kissing you hard. Your startled squeak is smothered by his fierce, possessive mouth moving over yours.
Powerless to resist the onslaught of sensations, you melt bonelessly against him as the kiss stretches on and on. Only the escalating number of notifications showing the shock and exclamations from your viewers finally breaks through the heady fog.
With extreme reluctance, Oscar ends the kiss, both of you panting. He keeps his face buried in the crook of your neck, lips brushing your flushed skin as he growls, “She’s mine.”
Then, before you can respond, he reaches past you and slams his palm into the power button of your streaming setup, shutting everything down.
The simultaneous howl of outrage from tens of thousands of confused fans cuts off abruptly as the screen goes black. Only the two of you are left in the ringing silence that follows.
“Oscar!” You finally manage. “What was that?”
He pulls away enough to meet your wide-eyed gaze, his brown eyes blazing with an intensity that steals your breath.
“I got … jealous,” he admits, seeming almost surprised at his own vehement reaction. “When they thought I was your ex. I didn’t like that at all.”
Your expression softens at his uncharacteristic show of vulnerability. Reaching out, you trace his sharp cheekbone with gentle fingers. “You have no reason to be jealous, silly man. It’s only ever been you.”
Some of the blazing heat in his stare banks into smoldering embers at your reassurance. “Yeah?” A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Good.”
He leans in again until his lips are a hairsbreadth from yours. “Because you’re mine, okay? And I’m yours.”
“Yeah,” you breathe out, dizzy with wanting him. “I’m all yours, Oscar.”
The possessive words seem to flip a switch in him. With a low, rumbling sound of approval, his mouth slants over yours once more in a searing, demanding kiss that makes your toes curl.
The abrupt ending to your stream is already causing a social media firestorm of epic proportions. But surrounded by the circle of Oscar’s arms, his familiar warmth and love, you can’t find it in yourself to care even a little bit.
After all, you think dizzily as he deepens the kiss, your fans should have recognized that you two were a couple from the very start — because Oscar Piastri is most definitely not your ex.
He’s your everything.
***
Oscar’s hands are everywhere, seemingly unable to get enough of you as his kisses grow more and more fervent. Your back hits the wall with a gentle thump as he crowds closer, caging you in with the solid warmth of his body.
“Missed you so much, love,” he rasps against the heated skin of your neck. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
A whimper escapes your lips at the scorching path his mouth blazes over your pulse point. “I m-missed you too, Oscar.”
His name falls from your lips like a prayer and he rewards you by sucking a mark into the sensitive spot just below your ear. Pleasure zings along your nerves at the hint of delicious possession in the act.
When he finally pulls back to gaze at you with dark, hooded eyes, his lips are reddened from enthusiastic use. The sight sends a molten flare of desire arrowing straight to your core.
“Say it again,” he commands roughly, voice gone low and gritty in that way that never fails to make you melt.
You blink up at him, momentarily lost in a lust-fueled haze. “W-What?”
“My name.” His large hands skim over the curve of your waist, bunching the fabric of your shirt. “Say my name again.”
“Oscar,” you breathe without hesitation, watching raptly as his pupils blow wider at the sound. “Oscar, Oscar, Oscar ...”
Each breathy iteration seems to stoke his hunger hotter. His fingers flex against your sides like he’s holding himself back from something.
On a daring whim, you slant your mouth near his ear, letting your lips brush the shell with every word. “Oscar Piastri,” you practically purr. “My Oscar.”
A broken groan is your only warning before he’s on you again, mouths crashing together in a heated crash of lips, teeth, and tangling tongues. His hand comes up to cup the nape of your neck, angling your face for deeper exploration.
When you finally manage to tear your lips away, you’re both panting harshly, chests heaving. “What’s … gotten into you?” You pant.
Rather than answer, Oscar just shakes his head and dives back in for more fervent kisses, like a man dying of thirst and you’re the most delicious drink he’s ever tasted.
It’s not until he suddenly grips your waist and spins the two of you around, depositing you on the desk with a surprising lack of finesse, that you realize just how wildly affected he is.
Oscar licks into the seam of your lips like he’s staking a claim and something within you shatters at the stark, naked wanting in his eyes when he pulls back the tiniest bit.
He just stares at you, chest heaving, gaze roving hungrily over your features like he’s memorizing you all over again. His pupils are blown wide, just thin rings of molten brown remaining around the black.
When he speaks, his voice is low and gravelly in a way that vibrates through you. “Say. My. Name.”
“Oscar,” you respond immediately, not even having to think. His hungry gaze burns over you and you feel stripped bare and vulnerable under the weight of it.
But rather than make you want to cover up, it has the opposite effect — you’re reeling him in, hands fisted in his shirt to pull him closer. You never want this delirious, frantic sense of possession and desire to end.
“Again,” he grinds out, sounding utterly wrecked already.
“Oscar.” You bare your neck for him as you say it, like presenting an offering. He groans low and deep, instantly ducking to mouth along the column of your throat.
His hands are everywhere, pushing up the hem of your top, kneading along your sides and ribs as he nips and sucks bruising paths across your collarbones and chest.
“Don’t stop saying it,” he orders, more plea than demand.
So you let his name become a breathless prayer falling from your lips, over and over between gasps and keening whimpers. You lose yourself in a heady feedback loop — the more you speak his name with naked wanting, the wilder it seems to drive him until his touch grows scattered and devouring.
At some point his hands finally succeed in tugging your shirt up and off. Your name doesn’t even register when his scorching mouth closes over one peaked bud, your back bowing at the shuddering bolt of sensation that lances through you.
All you can seem to process is the feel of his calloused palms mapping every inch of newly-exposed skin and the desperate mumble of “Oscar, Oscar, Oscar ...” spilling shameless and endless from your lips.
Eventually, the heated exploration of his mouth and hands becomes too much to simply lay there and take. With a low, guttural sound you haul Oscar upright and swing your legs around his hips, relishing his full body shudder.
“Not enough,” you accuse roughly, rolling your core against his in clear invitation. “Need you closer, Oscar.”
His heated groan at your wanton demand is music to your ears. Strong hands grasp your thighs to hitch your legs higher around his waist as he surges against you.
“So impatient, my darling girl,” he teases. This close, you can make out the faintest brush of freckles scattered over the bridge of his nose and cheekbones that you’ve mapped and memorized with lips and fingertips a hundred times before.
You can’t help but reach out to graze them with your thumb, gazing up at him with naked adoration. “My Oscar,” you murmur reverently.
His eyes slip shut for a beat, jaw ticking as if your words have an unexpectedly profound effect on him. When he opens them again, his gaze is fierce and intent.
“Yours,” he vows simply, leaning in to seal the promise against the plush of your lips.
The kiss is somehow softer and headier than before. You get lost in the lush glide of his mouth, every sliding brush of lip and tongue shorting out whatever rational thoughts remain until all you know is his name — the shape and taste and weight of it against your own.
It’s the only thing that seems real, vital, until at some point Oscar’s mouth leaves yours to trail hot, openmouthed kisses down your chest and stomach and lower still.
Your back bows as you squirm incoherently against the press of his lips and tongue. His restraint seems to have finally snapped, movements growing hungry and rough as he works you steadily higher.
“Oscar,” you sob out his name like you’re breaking apart, pleading for something you can’t quite name. He answers with a rumbling sound of satisfaction that vibrates hotly against your sensitized flesh.
More, is all you can think as he redoubles his efforts.
At some point, you must have arched helplessly off the desk because suddenly his hands are at the small of your back, fingertips digging in hard as he holds you arched for his questing mouth.
The intimate angle of his positioning has your jaw dropping open on a silent scream of overwhelmed pleasure. All that escapes is a strangled gasp of, “Oscar!”
He growls something incoherent against you that might be praise, might be reassurance, might just be your name groaned out roughly in shared bliss. But you honestly can’t tell anymore — you’ve transcended far past coherent speech and rational thought.
Everything has devolved into just sensation and feeling and the endless loop of his name spilling over and over from your lips like a benediction.
Oscar, Oscar, Oscar ...
Just when you think you might actually shatter into pieces from the intensity he’s wringing out of you, strong hands are abruptly hauling you up and off the desk in one smooth motion.
You cling to him with heavy limbs, burying your face in the crook of his neck as he staggers the few steps to your shared bedroom. At some point his shirt has vanished, allowing your hands free rein to roam over flexing muscle and heated skin.
When the backs of his legs hit the edge of the mattress, he pauses to claim your mouth in another searing, shattering kiss. He whispers something fervent and intense against your lips, your name perhaps intertwined with endearments or promises.
You can’t be sure. All you know is the shape of his name against your tongue, the only word your mind seems capable of holding onto as he lowers you reverently to the sheets and stretches out over you.
When he finally sinks into you with a harsh groan of relief, your back bows and you let out a broken, high keen — his name once more torn from your lips in breathless ecstasy.
“There you are, that’s it love,” he growls hoarsely as he begins to move, words interspersed between drugging, thorough thrusts. “Let me hear you, let me hear my name on those pretty lips.”
So you do, shamelessly loud and incoherent now as he gradually unravels you from the inside out. His name and gasped pleas and frantic praise all blur together in a continuous stream of blissful delirium.
At some point, his own control seems to splinter apart, hips snapping hard and deep as his pace turns utterly unrestrained. Still, you chase that shattering edge, crying out for Oscar as your whole world narrows to the merciless intensity of his driving thrusts and demanding hands kneading your flesh with staking ownership.
When you finally go soaring over that dizzying peak with his name torn hoarse from your throat, he follows you over almost violently with a ragged shout. Oscar’s arms shake dangerously as he holds his weight off of you, pupils swallowing up the copper of his eyes entirely in onyx pools of spent lust.
As you slowly float back down from that searing high, limbs heavy and sated, you reach up to trace the sharp line of his cheekbone. He turns his face into your palm with a shuddering exhale as if grounding himself.
For several long breaths, all that can be heard is your shaky inhales mingling together while your racing heartbeats gradually return to normal.
Finally, Oscar presses a warm, lingering kiss to the center of your palm before shifting to stretch out beside you, his weight dipping the mattress.
You immediately curl into the reassuring heat of him, despite the sweat still cooling along your skin. One of his arms bands around your waist, holding you flush against his side while his other hand comes up to card soothingly through your hair.
Nestling your face into the curve where his shoulder meets his neck, you press a gentle kiss to the hollow of his throat and whisper, “Hi.”
“Hi yourself,” he murmurs back, low and slightly scratchy in the aftermath. You can hear the smile in his voice as his fingers keep carding idly through your hair.
Silence falls again, comfortable and peaceful in the aftermath of your frantic passion, both of you simply basking in the warmth of shared nearness.
Eventually though, the question you’ve been avoiding asking slips out in a hazy murmur. “What brought all … that … on, Oscar?”
He’s quiet for so long, you begin to wonder if he fell asleep. Just when you’re about to shift to look at him though, he speaks up.
“When your fans assumed I was your ex … the way they were celebrating that the two of you got back together ...” His fingers stroke almost absentmindedly through your hair as he pauses. “I dunno, something in me just .. .snapped a little. Seeing them say over and over how perfect he was for you ...”
He trails off with a low chuckle, and you can’t resist craning your neck to glance up at him curiously. When your eyes meet his, his expression is rueful.
“I couldn’t stand the thought of any other name on your lips, love. Even your own.” His fingertips trace the line of your jaw with unbearable tenderness. “All I wanted was for you to say my name like that — like it’s the only word that matters in the entire world.”
Just like that, a fresh ember of want rekindles low in your belly at the slightly awed honesty in his voice. You exhale a shaky breath, searching his stormy gaze for … what? Evidence of how crazily affected you are by such a simple revelation?
Whatever he finds reflected in your stare seems to give him pause as well because his eyes almost immediately darken with renewed hunger.
“Say it again then,” he husks, rolling until he’s leaned over you, hands planted on either side of your head. There’s no demand in the words, just low, thrumming need thrilling between you both.
So you reach up to cup his face in your palms, rubbing your thumbs over the sandpapery stubble along his strong jawline as you gaze adoringly up at him.
“Oscar ...” you breathe out his name like a sacred invocation. “My Oscar.”
His eyes slip shut and he makes a low, ragged sound of pure satisfaction on an exhale that ghosts across your lips.
“Yeah,” he rasps, bending lower until his forehead rests against yours. “That’s it, love … that’s all I ever want to hear.”
You pull him back down to you then, unable and unwilling to resist sealing the promise of those words against his lips with your own.
And as everything inevitably dissolves into heat and need and formless ecstasy once more, you lose yourself to the endless chant of his name on your lips — your entire world whittled down to just that one exalted word, over and over and over.
Because really, what other name could ever matter when Oscar Piastri is the only name you’ll ever need?
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fairy-angel222 · 20 days
Text
𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 ft. Choso Kamo
—You meet Choso at a bar after babysitting him eight years ago
cw: small age gap (25 n 23), smut
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It’s been a long time since you’d seen Choso Kamo. Having babysat him back when he was twelve and you were fifteen. A mere three years gap which deemed you mature enough for the job by his parents.
He’d never tell it to you, but you were his childhood crush. The girl he wanted to marry. The girl he told his friends about. His parents kept you around for only two years. Concluding that the boy was old enough to take care of himself.
He was devastated, especially when you found out that you’d be moving only a week later. He knew his feelings weren’t returned, but it hurt to see you go. He cried for weeks, couldn’t eat or sleep. He just wanted to see you again.
He hoped that maybe you’d text him, check up on him like you did when it was your duty. But you didn’t. You’d be turning eighteen the next year and would go off to college. And he’d be stuck there, without you for the rest of his life.
It had been eight years, and Choso sat in a bar with his friends. Their glasses clanking loudly against each other as they downed its contents. He hated crowded places like this, he wouldn’t even be there if not for his friends.
He’d gone to college, gotten his fair share of girls. Everything you promised him that he could do one day, the only thing missing was you.
“Choso? Oh my God is that you?”
It couldn’t be.
Choso’s mouth went dry as his head snapped in the direction of that familiar voice. A wide smile on his face as he took you in. “Y/n.. you.. I- wow.”
There you stood, after so long, grown into your body and as pretty as ever. You didn’t look a day over nineteen. It hurt to remind himself that you were not twenty five. It had been that long.
You giggled softly, that same giggle that he swore made his heart flutter. “It’s so good to see you Cho. It’s been so long.” You pulled him in for a hug and he stiffened, taking in that sweet scent that you always carried. It really was you. He allowed himself to hug you back tightly, pulling your shorter frame into his chest as he closed his eyes. Enjoying your embrace.
“It really has. I missed you.” He let slip out, and you smiled sadly as you pulled away. “I’m sorry Cho.. i didn’t think i’d have to move. Would have been nice to see you graduate and stuff.”
“No no it’s okay. It’s fine. I’m really glad to see you.” He could see his friends winking at his side, all watching intently at the interaction. It made him fidget, lip between his teeth as his face flushed a pale red. “How about i buy you a drink?”
“Sure.” You smiled, allowing him to lead you to the counter with a hand on the small of your back.
The two of you sat and talked. A long conversation about your lives and how each of you had been over the years. It made him happy to know that you were single, and it made him even happier to know that your ex had been your only since you were his age.
He started at you intently as you spoke. A special adoration in his eyes as you went on about your job and your friends. You were still so perfect. He wondered how you would feel if he told you that he never got over you. He’d first have to tell you that he had liked you, of course.
You could not lie. He was extremely handsome. He’d grown to be your type. Nothing like the adorably introverted boy you’d known back then.
Choso on the other hand, could not think straight. His mind was taking in everything at once. Your stories, your face, your lips, your hair, your dress which hugged your body in a way that made his mind wander. You somehow managed to captivate him even more. Especially since he was grown now, he knew what he wanted. His parents told him you were just a harmless crush, a phase. But he knew what he wanted for certain now. You.
It was how you ended up in his apartment. Both your hands roaming each other’s bodies as Chosos kissed you passionately. His hand around your throat gently to push you to the nearest surface. He kissed you like you would disappear at any moment, letting his lips trail down to your neck before leading you to his bedroom, your dress and his shirt having been discarded by the time you reached the door.
Choso pulled off his pants, and you allowed yourself to take in the muscles on his body. And the way his arms flexed as he held you tight.
He slipped on a condom, backing you up to his bed until you fell back onto it, Choso climbing over you with your tongues still intertwined.
You moaned when you felt him prodding at your hole. Easing his length into you with a groan of his own. He started off slow, rolling his hips into yours while breathing heavily onto your skin, his tongue swirling around your nipple while his hand squeezed at the soft flesh.
Your fingers were tangled in his hair, tugging on dark strands when he began to speed up. Thrusting into you expertly as you moaned out into the room. “Choso, hmm— fuck.” You mewled, back arching off the sheets when he started hitting you g spot with every movement. Pulling out nothing but moans past your lips as you fell into pleasure.
“Swearing’s bad, remember?” He breathed jokingly, reminding you back to when you’d say that each time he said a bad word.
You moaned out a small laugh, breaths ragged as your toes curled, feeling his fucking you deeper than you thought could be reached. “O-oh God— don’t stop. Please don’t stop. F-feels so good.” You cried, noises pretty and high pitched as your stomach burned, feeling your inching closer and closer to orgasm.
“S-shit. Had a crush on you f’ so long. Never thought this would be happening.” He grunted deeply. “Though i got over you till i saw you tonight.” His eyes met yours and you fought the urge to tell him that you knew, you’d known all along. He had just been a little boy with a crush. But now.. it was so much different. You craved him after seeing him. You wanted him.
“Ahh, ‘m so close Cho.. ‘m gonna cum.” You moaned, vision going black as you let your eyes shut, arms wrapping around his shoulders as your body was rocked back and forth.
“Go ahead sweetheart, cum f’ me yeah? I’ve got you, just let go kay?”
You nodded with a cry, body shaking as you let go. Allowing yourself to crumble underneath him as you came. Drenching his cock in your slick.
Choso’s thrusts became sloppy and he groaned, “That’s it. So good for me. Haah— shit.” Burying himself deep inside you before spilling into the condom which separated you. Unable to stop himself from imagining breeding you raw.
You both panted as you struggled to catch your breaths. Holding onto each other in a comfortable silence after he pulled out.
“That was..”
“Yeah,” He agreed. There was no going back after this.
He got both you and him cleaned up, giving you one of his shirts to wear as you let yourself cuddle into him on the couch. Watching a movie with two beers as he stroked your skin gently. Chin on your head as he tried to wrap his head around exactly what just happened.
This was serious. It didn’t feel like another one of his one-night stands, it felt real. It felt like there could actually be something between you. And he would do whatever he could to make it happen.
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talaok · 7 months
Text
Like a Virgin
Pairing: Joel Miller x reader
summary: It's been a really long time since Joel has felt the feel of anything else besides his own fist, and once you remind him how good the real thing is... let's just say it's hard for him to live up to his full potential.
warnings: smut| unprotected p in v sex, premature ejaculation, very touch-starved Joel, and allusion to oral sex (f receiving)
a/n: I don't know what to say lmao this is a thing for me ok, don't judge (and also you can't tell me this isn't accurate, like this man hasn't gotten laid since the moon landing probably, and you expect him to last? no way babe). Also I'm sorry about the title it's funny to me lol
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Now this wasn't like him.
He hadn't done this in a long time.
The last time he had sex with a woman he'd just met (or any woman to be completely honest) he was 25 years younger and the world hadn't gone to shit yet... so yeah, a long time indeed.
But you were so fucking beautiful, such a pretty face with such pretty eyes, and god but that mouth of yours-
And plus you were new to Jackson, you didn't know yet about all the scary stories folks liked to tell about him, and you were kind and funny, and... did he mention hot already?
Just one night of letting loose, that's what he'd told himself, and then he was gonna go back to his old closed-off self, but for now... for now, he was too busy throwing you on his bed to think about anything else.
You were getting rid of your clothes and he followed your lead more than willingly, almost ripping the buttons off his flannel in the rush.
He bent down to kiss your neck as his hands hurried to your tits.
God, he'd forgotten how good it felt to touch a woman.
And when you let out a little whimper, he swore he had ascended to another universe.
"Joel please"
Fuck him, but he wasn't inside of you yet, and he was already feeling far too close to coming.
Guess fucking his own fist for two decades really does something to a man.
"need something?"
He was acting wayy too smug for someone who was feeling like a virgin all over again.
"Please- I need you inside me, Joel"
fucking damnit- he shouldn't have asked that, his dick was now really suffering the consequences.
He didn't risk saying anything else as he got rid of his boxers, but of course, you just had to come out and say:
"oh wow, you're big" with the sexiest fucking voice he'd ever heard.
"want me to stop?"
For some reason, those words elicited a criminally hot smirk on your lips  
"Definitely not"
You were looking at him like a starving woman and he had to look down to where he was moving his tip to your entrance to get away from you and your dangerous, dangerous gaze
He pushed into you slowly and god fucking damnit but the sounds that you made... those sweet little moans and whines you let out as your warm pussy stretched around him and hugged him better than anything he'd felt in years... he had no words for it- no coherent sounds could make it out of his mouth except for a few groans coming deep from his chest.
"Good christ"
that's the only thing he managed to murmur as he bottomed out and had to take a break to try not to bust his load right there.
"fuck you feel so good" you moaned, as your hands gripped his sheets "please move" you begged, your voice breathy and pleading, and godfuck he should have really thought about it before doing this.
"Joel please-"
"I just need a moment darlin'" he explained, closing his eyes to try and remember how he used to manage to last and coming up completely empty.
He could feel your expectant eyes on him so even if he sure as hell didn't feel ready, he did as you asked and started to move.
The regret reached him extraordinarily fast as he felt your walls tightening around him and as you cried out for him like an angel sent straight from heaven.
"fuck-" you moaned, looking up at him with doe eyes that made him wonder if you really just knew what you were doing, if you actually enjoyed torturing him like this
"god you're so deep"
Yeah, you definitely knew
"and so big-" you cried
He gripped your waist to try and ground himself as he thrusted into your fucking perfect cunt.
"oh my god-yes!" you moaned, your back arching from the bed as his thrust got harsher in the hopes that that would make you talk less.
"just like that Joel- oh-" 
And Joel was tough in a lot of ways and he wasn't one to give up easily, but shit you were making it hard for him.
"Please don't stop- fuckfuckfuck" you begged, shutting your eyes close at the feeling.
And that was it, he couldn't do it anymore
"please stop talking" he breathed, his eyes resuming their tour of your eyes, mouth, and bouncing tits.
"why?" 
"nothing it's just-"
And before he could answer you had grabbed his shoulder and forced him to bend down to meet your mouth with his.
Goddamnit.
"you just feel too good Joel" 
"fuck." he groaned, not able to stop his hips from moving no matter how much he wanted to "shit"
"what is it?"
"Jesus Christ I-"
"is there something wrong?"
"n-no just- fuck I'm sorry sweetheart"
And that's all he could say as he abruptly pulled out of you, his spend covering your stomach not even a second after as he growled so loud his neighbors probably thought he was getting killed.
"shit" again, he sighed, his forehead falling to your shoulder.
"oh" you couldn't help but smile as everything came together
"I'm sorry darlin'" he breathed, leaning away and standing up as shame filled every inch of him.
"It's just- It's been a long time since I've done... this"
You sat up, your legs still dangling off the bed, as you admired his handy work on your belly.
"And you... you're just real fucking pretty" he huffed a half-laugh "I'm sorry"
You looked up at him then, meeting his mortified expression.
"No hey" you smiled, placing a hand on his torso "It's fine, I understand"
"god this is embarrassing, I feel like a sixteen-year-old all over again" he shook his head
"stop" you cooed, gently caressing his skin, as a mischievous spark lighted in your irides "It's fine, really" you promised, "and besides..." you bit your bottom lip as you slowly spread your legs "you could still make it up to me, y'know?"
He groaned again, falling to his knees between your thighs
"that I can do"
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ccsainzleclerc5516 · 2 months
Text
Girls Night Out
Pairing: Lando Norris x reader
Warnings: smut!!!
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For the past three years, your weekends have mostly been spent following your fiance's races all over the world, and on his free weekends, you usually rest in front of the TV cuddled up to each other enjoying every moment of his free time you get to spend together.
But this Saturday night was yours and it meant only one thing - girls night out. Your best friend was celebrating her birthday, so you decided to go out to dinner and a few drinks with a close circle of friends. Girls only.
And you were really excited about that. It's not that you didn't like spending time with Lando, quite the opposite actually, lately you haven't really been interested in anything other than being in his arms, but every now and then a little change comes in handy.
As for tonight's outfit, since you just got your period, you opted for black wide-leg suit pants and a black corset top that accentuated and hugged your breasts beautifully. You looked hot, not in a vulgar way, but you were going to turn heads for sure.
"Lan, I'm about to head out" You said fixing your hair and entering the living room where your fiance was lying on the couch in front of the TV.
His gaze moved from the screen to you measuring you from head to toe with raised eyebrows.
"What?" You asked.
"That's a nice neckline you got there" He commented clearly displeased with your choice of outfit for a night out where he wouldn't be there.
"Thank you" You smiled rolling your eyes at him. "I like it too"
"You couldn't choose something else to wear? Like a turtleneck or something?" He asked making you laugh.
"And what's wrong with this? Please, do tell me"
"That cleavage of yours is begging for attention, that's what's wrong with it" He says, his expression serious and his eyes stuck on yours.
"Oh wow. I don't know what you would do if tonight I wore a dress like the one I wore for your birthday dinner" You said remembering the short cherry red dress that Lando tore off of you the second you got home from his birthday dinner celebration.
"You most certainly wouldn't leave the house wearing something like that without me let me tell you that" He says confidently making you roll your eyes at his comment once again although you secretly kinda liked that he was ever so jealous. You liked playing with his head a little from time to time.
"Where is your ring?" He asks about the big oval diamond ring he knelt before you with, even though he knows damn well you never take it off your finger.
"On my finger, of course, every day for a year now, where else would it be?"
"Let me see" You sigh moving closer to stand in front of him and hold your left hand out in front of him. He takes the opportunity to pull you by the hand and make you fall on top of him making you squeal as your chest hit his.
"Lando! Are you crazy?"
"I think you know answer to that question" He smirks grabbing your cheek and pressing his lips against yours.
"Yeah, I think I do. You're gonna ruin my makeup" You whine trying to pull away, but he ignores you pulling you in for another more heated kiss forcing his tongue inside your mouth.
"Lando.." You warn him trying to break the kiss. "Are you nervous that I'm going out without you?"
"No, I just don't want others to look at what's mine. Fuck, I don't want them even thinking about looking"
"Well, like you just said, I'm yours and yours only and you've known that for a long time now" You say pressing assuring kiss to his lips.
"Well.." His hand escapes between your thighs gently squeezing one of them. "Maybe I do need a little bit of reminding" His mouth find your neck leaving a trail of wet kisses all over it.
"Even if I wanted to, we can't, because I got my period this morning."
"I know you did. But you could use your pretty little mouth. That would convince me pretty well." His thumb traces over your bottom lip tugging it down.
"Lando..I have to leave soon"
"Baby, you can't leave me like this." He whines determined to get what he wants and you knew you wouldn't leave the house until he got it. "Touch it.. I got so hard just by looking at you." He takes your hand into his placing it over the tent in his pants. "I need you to take care of it" He whispers making you shiver and rub your palm against him.
"You better be quick" You say quietly before you drop off the couch onto the floor between his legs.
"Oh trust me, it'll take seconds" He sighs removing his pants along with his boxers and tossing them to the side. Leaning down he gives you a brief kiss before leaning back against the couch with his hands holding your cheeks.
You start by leaving sloppy slow kisses around his erected length holding your hands on his thighs. Your tongue runs lightly over his balls making him moan in response. You cup them in your hand gently massaging them while your tongue follows the line of the vein on his cock.
"Baby, put it in your mouth, please"
"Impatient, aren't we?" You tease wrapping your hand around him giving him a few strokes up and down. Your thumb crosses over his red swollen tip before attaching your lips to it and sucking on it.
He hisses at the sensation collecting your hair into a ponytail and tilts his head to the side to get a better look at you.
"Fuck baby, yes, yes, just like that -ahh" Praising you, you moan around him sending vibrations through his rock hard cock.
"You don't know what I would do to you right now if you weren't on your period"
"What, baby? Tell me." You ask taking your mouth off him and stroking him in your hand spreading the precum all over his tip.
"I'd fuck you until you begged me to stop" He moans and you squeeze your thighs together trying to get any kind of friction to reduce the ache between your legs.
"You're doing it so good. Sucking me off so good, fuck" You pick up the pace of bobbing your head up and down his cock opening your eyes for a second to look at his chest heavily rising and falling, his head thrown back and lips parted.
You loved the sight of him in front of you - he was so helpless, completely at your mercy, the sounds that he was making, moans of your name escaping from his lips were enough for you to know that he was fully under your control.
You loved the way his hand rested on the back of your head guiding it, pushing his cock deeper into your mouth.
"You love choking on me don't you? Yeah you do. Fuck I love watching the bulge in your throat when I fuck it." His hips bucked up as he started thrusting himself deep until his tip hit the back of your throat making you gag around him and reflexively pull back, teary-eyed, gasping for air.
"You're okay, baby, you're okay c'mon, take it" Gently caressing your cheek he tapped his tip against your lips before forcing himself back into your mouth. You continued working him up and down taking all of him in while your hand found his balls again making him a weak mess of a man.
"Fuck, baby I'm close." You felt him starting to tense under your touch as his hand replaced the work of your mouth. He took his cock in one hand and with the other he took your chin between his fingers.
"You gonna cum in my mouth, love?"
"Ahh, yes, fuck. You gonna swallow it?"
"Mhm, all of it" You nodded innocently sending him over the edge, his loud groaning broke through the room, the rhythm of his hand slowed down putting his cock back into your mouth as he reached his climax spilling his cum into your mouth.
He stayed like that in semi lying position trying to regain his strength back. You wiped your mouth with your fingers before he pulled you to him into a hug leaving a long kiss on your temple.
"Convinced?"
"I'd say so"
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leossmoonn · 6 months
Text
call out my name | mike schmidt
summary - mike gets jealous after seeing you so friendly with a co-worker
includes / warnings - reader is fem. takes place after he worked at freddy’s. unprotected sex, overstimulation if you squint, fingering.
————
18+ under the cut
mike’s about to shit his heart out as he looks in the window of the car dealership, seeing you and your co-worker standing at the reception desk. his blood starts boil as your co-worker makes you laugh. his hand keeps brushing against yours as he shows you whatever interesting video is on his phone. mike swears your co-worker steps closer to you so now your shoulders are touching. you don’t seem to notice, though.
mike runs a hand through his hair and makes sure the collar of his shirt is tucked. he opens the door, the bell making you raise your head. a bright smile encompasses your face and you stand up straighter, smoothing out any wrinkles in your shirt.
“you here to buy a car?” you tease your boyfriend. “i wish,” mike chuckles softly. his smile immediately drops when your co-worker speaks up.
“hey, mike.” the way he says mike’s name makes his stomach churn. “what’s up, drew?” mike’s smile is polite and tight as he glances at him.
“nothing much. is work slow for you, too?” drew asks. “no, i’m on my lunch break,” mike says. he fights the urge to roll his eyes. drew knows why he comes here.
“must keep you on a long leash with you coming all the way here,” drew says. “what do you do for work again? oh, yeah, mall security?”
mike’s hands ball into fists and he clenches his jaw. he tries to keep his reactions minimal, knowing drew wants to get a reaction out of him.
“actually,” you interject, “mike got a job waiting tables and he just got promoted to manager a week ago.”
“wow,” drew gasps. “how exciting. you must be so proud of yourself.”
mike glares at drew, trying to breathe slowly as to calm himself. you shuffle away from drew, not catching the small disappointment in his eyes.
“let’s go to the break room, yeah?” you ask. mike nods and follows you, part of him relaxing as your hand grabs his tricep. he sits down and waits for you to grab your lunch from the fridge.
“how come you didn’t bring anything?” you frown. “not that hungry,” he shrugs. truthfully, he can’t work up an appetite on the days he knows drew works with you. he‘s tried to eat in the past, knowing how you worry about him taking care of himself. but if he tries to eat, the food would end up wasted, and he can’t afford that.
“do you want half of my sandwhich?” you ask. “no, i’m okay,” he shakes his head.
“what about some pieces of fruit?” you press. “you go ahead and eat all your food,” mike chuckles. you hum in dissatisfaction. you russle through your lunch box, finding a week-old granola bar. “here,” you hand it to him. mike’s about to deny you again, but the desperation in your eyes makes him fold. he takes it and thanks you, taking small bites and chewing slowly.
mike’s worries dissipate the more time he spends with you. his dread is replaced with joy as you laugh at his weak jokes. warmth encapsulates his heart as you scoot your chair closer to him so your knees are touching. the kiss you press on his cheek makes him grin from ear-to-ear.
he saddens when he realizes he has to go back to work. you walk him out to his car, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips.
“i’ll talk to drew about his rudeness,” you mention. mike’s ears perk up in surprise. “oh…you don’t have. i don’t think he was being rude. he’s just —”
“mike,” you raise your brows. he sighs, “thank you.” you smile and nod, “of course. drive safe to work. i’ll see you tonight.”
he nods and kisses you again, having to peel himself away from you to leave.
a few days later, mike has to drop you off at work.
“can i use the bathroom real quick?” mike asks as you start to get out of the car. “of course,” you answer.
you two walk in together and you go to the break room to put all your things away. mike goes and finds you to say goodbye after he uses the restroom. he finds you in the break room with no one other than drew. you’re leaning against the counter, waiting for your coffee to brew. drew is close to you again — too close. his hand is on the counter right by your waist. he’s looking down at you, eyes flickering from your hips to your breasts and neck.
mike clears his throat and both of you turn to him. you walk over, giving him a long and warm hug.
“thank you for taking me to work,” you say. “no problem. do you need me to pick up you?” he asks.
“no, rachel can take me,” you say. “you just worry about picking abby up from school.”
his lips upturn and he nods. you press a kiss to his cheekbone and he begins to leave, but drew stops him.
“hey, mike. sorry about what i said the other day,” drew apologizes, but he doesn’t look sorry. mike nods at him, smiling awkwardly. “it’s fine. thanks.”
mike awaits your arrival at his home, making dinner for the two of my you. abby wanted to hang out at a friends house, so he dropped her off there, leaving the house empty for the two of you for a while.
he perks up as he hears your voice from outside. his heart races in excitement and he goes to the front door to greet you, but his feet stay glued to the floor as he sees drew, not rachel, get out of the car. he’s handing your purse and lunchbox, which mike knows you’re perfectly capable of retrieving yourself. you smile at drew and mike knows enough about you to know it’s a polite smile. it’s when you and drew hug that mike starts to feel nauseous. you stand a little far away from drew for it to be a normal hug, but drew pulls your closer and you don’t pull away. mike watches as drew’s hand slides down your back, just above your ass. mike’s hand that’s on the doorknob turns white. you pull away after a few seconds too long and drew moves to say something in your ear that makes you giggle. mike’s about to go out there and punch drew in the face, but you’re already making your way to the house.
mike scurries away from the door and back to the kitchen. he keeps stirring the pot of pasta, keeping his head down as you unlock the door and enter.
“hey, babe,” you greet him with a smile. you hang your coat on the rack besides the door, placing your purse and keys on the coffee table. you kick off your shoes and place them by mike’s.
“how was your day?” you ask as you walk over to the kitchen, grabbing a glass and filling it with water.
“fine,” mike answers through gritted teeth. “you okay?” your brows furrow in worry. you place a hand between is shoulder blades, which he shrugs off. “yeah. just tired,” he mumbles.
“okay,” you say unconvinced. you don’t push. mike’s a grown man and you’ve been together long enough for him to know that if he has a problem, he needs to speak up and ask for help. “where’s abby?” you ask.
“at a friend’s.”
“looks like we get the house to ourselves.”
your tone is teasing and when he looks at you, you have a mysterious glimmer in your eyes. he can’t muster up an ounce of care. he just hums in response.
“i’m going to go change into pjs,” you say, your warm lips settling on his skin. he just nods and you walk away, mind racing with what he could be so upset about.
dinner is worse. you two don’t talk at all. all your attempts fail. even when one of you are tired, you both make an effort.
“thank you for making dinner. i’m sorry i’m not that hungry,” you say.
“it’s fine,” he says, holding his head down and staring into his plate of alfredo.
“drew shared his chick-fil-a with me, so i guess i’m still full from that.”
something inside mike snaps. he drops his silverware with a clang, roughly getting out of his chair. it scrapes against the hardwood and he grabs his plate, shoving all the food down the trashcan and practically throwing the plate into the sink. he stomps away, going into his room. your stunned at his behavior, slowly getting up and walking over to his room.
“what the hell was that?” you ask. “nothing,” he grumbles. he’s taking off his sweatshirt, feeling too warm from becoming worked up.
“mike, talk to me. you’ve been acting weird ever since i got home. is something wrong? did abby get in trouble at school or say something?” you ask.
“i thought rachel was going to take you home.” his eyes stare daggers into yours. your throat dries and your heart starts to race. you don’t know why you suddenly feel so nervous. you weren’t hiding anything, but mike’s expression made it seem like you had just committed a crime.
“i… yeah. she was,” you say, your voice sounding softer with each word. “then why did drew take you home?” mike asks.
“rachel had to pick up her son from school. he got sick.”
“oh, how convenient.”
you now shoot him a glare. “what’s that supposed to mean?”
“stop acting so innocent! we both know he’s in love with you.”
“that’s ridiculous, mike.”
“oh, is it? because from the moment you started working there, he’s been glued to your side. i mean, the first time i met him, he was pressed up against you!”
“he was just showing me how the system worked!”
“i’m sure that’s all he was doing,” mike says with a sour smile. “the other day, he was acting like an asshole.”
“i told him to apologize to you and he did, didn’t he?”
“yeah, because he wants to be on your good side.”
“mike, c’mon,” you try to settle the argument. you take a step towards him but he furthers the distance between you two.
“and today? buying you food and driving you home,” mike recants. “he’s a nice guy, mike. he’s bought food for the whole team before!” you exclaim, feeling exasperated.
“yeah, i bet he hugs everybody like how he hugged you, too. pressed all up against you with hand practically on your ass. and then he whispers something in your ear that makes you laugh so loud. he must be a real comedian since you’re always giggling when you’re with him.”
your frustration turns to worry as mike begins to talk more to himself than you. you have to admit, you’ve always known of drew’s crush on you. but he had never made a real move on you or made you uncomfortable. there was no reason to report him or confront him about it, especially since he knows you’re with mike. you always try to make your boundaries clear with everyone, but perhaps you missed a few of the signs with drew.
“tell me, what did he say to you?” mike asks, looking into your eyes.
“i-i don’t remember,” you admit honestly.
“i bet he was saying something about me, right? maybe he was telling you to go back to his place instead. i wouldn’t be surprised if you wanted to say yes.”
you’re taken aback by his assumptions of you. “is that what you really think of me, mike? you think i would leave you for some guy i’ve known for a couple months? for a guy who is only a co-worker to me?”
“i don’t know,” he shrugs. “you seem pretty smitten with him. he probably thinks you want to fuck him.”
you grit your teeth, feeling your heart sink as you finally hear what mike seems to think of you. “you’re an idiot, mike.” you walk out of his room, going to grab your purse and keys. he’s quick to follow you.
“you’re leaving now?” he scoffs. “i bet i can guess who you’re going to call to pick up you.”
“get over yourself, mike!” you yell. you head towards the door but he grabs your wrist, whipping you around to face him. you’re so close, you almost collide with his chest. his chest heaves up and down, his face flushed. “i think you should get over yourself,” he seethes. “you can’t seem to tell me that you don’t love him.”
“i don’t love him. i love you!” you shout, watching his face soften as your words register. “i didn’t want to tell you like this, but… i think you need to hear it.” your voice is quiet, almost a whisper now.
he doesn’t say anything. you can’t read his expression. you know mike likes to pull away from people. you know he’s afraid of losing everyone he loves. you know it’s hard for him to be open with you and this blow up tonight is a testament to that. you just hope he doesn’t try to push you away even more.
“mike? say something, please. if you don’t love me either then just say that, but it’s important you know that i do love —”
he smashes his lips against yours. your body melts against his out of instinct. you drop your purse and keys, wrapping your arms around his neck and weaving your fingers through his hair. his kisses are bruising, like he wants you to feel it tomorrow. his hands grasp at your sides, pulling you in closer, needing to feel every inch of you.
he begins to walk backwards to the couch, one of his hands leaving your body to feel out the couch. he sits down, grabbing the small of your back and yanking you onto his lap. your lips part for a small gasp of air and he slips his tongue in. your teeth clash as your tongue does a tango with his. your hands cup the back of his neck where his spine begins, tugging at the hair on the nape of his neck.
he moans into your mouth, the sound vibrating inside you. his hands untucking your shirt and snaking up your back. he unclasps your bra and he wastes no time with getting his hands on your tits. even with your bra still hanging off your arms, his hand slithers under the wire.
you can feel his hard on under you. you can’t help but grind, your clit catching onto your underwear. your head drops and you moan into his ear, making him shudder underneath you. your hands move down to his t-shirt, dragging it up his body. he has to pause from massaging your breasts, but takes the opportunity to take your shirt and bra off.
his lips attach to your nipple, his tongue swirling and teeth oh-so-gently nibbling. your hands run down his chest, the soft hairs of his chest tickling your fingertips. your fingers stop at his belt and the ache between your thighs grows. you whine in need, starting to unbuckle his pants. once you do so, you quickly stand up and strip, swinging your leg back over mike’s waist once he takes his pants off.
you kiss him once more, sucking on his lip in between breaths. one of his hands settle on the junction between your hip and thigh, the other finding your cunt. you moan into his mouth as two fingers slip inside of you. he curves his fingers inside of you, brushing up against that sweet spot. your pussy gushes around his fingers with each movement and he can feel your juices slide down his hand at this angle. his thumb reaches up and circles over your throbbing clit. you can’t help but fall into him, his chin meeting your shoulder.
“mike,” you whimper. “feels good, huh?” he breathes out, his chest heaving up and down.
“mmhm,” you nod, screwing your eyes shut and biting your lip.
“he can’t make you this wet, can he?” mike whispers into your ear. he begins to kiss below your ear, sucking harshly. your stomach flips at his words and you shake your head, the only things coming out of your mouth are moans and whimpers.
“use your words, baby.” his voice is low and deep. his mouth is pressing searing hot kissing on your skin, sending a thrill up your spine.
“nu-uh,” is all you manage to say. his fingers pump faster, applying just the right pressure to get you off.
“shit, mike,” you gasp, your orgasm bubbling up in your lower stomach. you start to ride his fingers, gathering more friction around your clit. your fingertips dig into the flesh of his bicep as you come.
“mike,” you slur as he doesn’t stop rubbing your clit. “too much, too much!” you exclaim in a moan. mike slows his thumb’s movements, peering up at your face. your eyes are half-lidded and your lip is swollen from biting it so hard.
he gives you a few moments before taking you by the hips and flipping you over. his cock throbs at the sight of your legs spread for him. he knows how wet you were on his fingers. he can’t wait a second longer.
you grab onto his shoulders as he pushes into you. you both groan at the initial feeling. he fits you just like a glove. your pussy envelopes in warm and wetness, making it easy for him to just slide in.
he doesn’t waste any time with fucking you. he’s balls deep inside of you, marveling in the way your pussy hugs him. your walls clench around him with each thrust, the sounds of your juices gushing around his cock making you both lightheaded.
“you like being fucked like this, hm?” mike pants. “yes,” you breathe out. you’re starting to hyperventilate as his thrust become faster. his hips snap with yours, the sound of his balls slapping against your skin filling the room.
“tell me, can he fuck you like this?” he asks, his nose pressed against your cheek.
“no, mike. never.”
one of his hands grip the couch arm, about ready to pull out the stuffing. his other hand is digging into your side, surely to cause some bruising in the next few hours. your hands hook under his arms and you pull him closer to you as you’re about to come.
“fuck, baby,” he groans. “i-i love you, too. i think i’m gonna come, fuck.”
you can’t tell who’s breathing is who’s or who says what curse words, but you can feel him unload inside of you. warmth fills your insides as the knot in your tummy unravels. you buck your hips up to his in one last attempt to feel any sort of friction and then your body collapses on the couch, feeling weak and numb.
mike pulls out of you slowly, a string of his semen connecting from your pussy to his tip. he gets up and pulls on his boxers, walking to the bathroom to grab a warm washcloth. you pull yourself up against the pillows, resting one leg off of the couch. mike sits between your legs, wiping up his oozing cream. he leans down and presses a kiss to your inner thigh, causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach. he kisses a trail all the way up to your lips.
he kisses you sweetly this time around. his hands cup your face, cradling you close you him. he pulls away, sitting back with a smile as he looks at your neck.
“you’re gonna have to cover that up,” he says. you touch your skin, feeling how raw it is. you shrug and get up, putting your underwear back on. “i don’t think i will.”
mike raises his brows. “what if your co-workers see? what if drew comments on it?”
you give mike a coy smile. “i’ll tell him who gave it to me, then.”
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