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lqvesoph · 6 months

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Hot Wings - LN4

landonorris x fem!reader

summary: your boyfriend does the hot wing challenge for quadrant and you make a little cameo for the first time ever

warnings: none, just fluff

masterlist | taglist

"Baby, you've got no right to laugh, you're not going this", your boyfriend Lando called, he would've laughed if his mouth wasn't burning at the moment.

He was currently filming a YouTube video for Quadrant and Max and him were eating hot wings while Niran asked them questions.

At the moment they were at the 7th wing, at level 300,000.

Max and Niran looked over at you behind the camera when Lando called your name.

Your boyfriend waved you over, signaling you to come to him. You hesitantly stood up, as you haven’t really confirmed your relationship yet, and walked to him and his best friend.

"My lips are burning", he mumbled, leaning back against your stomach, his head tilted back so he could hold eye contact.

You let your finger trail over his cheek, placing them onto his full red lips.

Lando leaned further into you. "Ohh, your fingers are cold, baby. I've never loved your fingers more than in this moment", the driver muttered, wrapping his arms around your middle, to keep you in place.

Max and Niran broke out in hysterical laughters as soon as Lando stopped speaking and even you couldn’t help a grin forming on your face.

"If you say so", you muttered, pushing your fingers into his curls, wrapping them around your fingers.

"Stay", he demanded.

"You're full of milk", you complained, stroking over the wet patches on Lando's black shirt.

"Yeah, I'm sorry, baby", he cooed, not really paying attention, which made you chuckle.

"You wanna take a bite as well?", Max suggested, holding up a hot wing with some sauce on it.

His best friend addressing you, made Lando lift his cheek from your stomach and look up at you.

In the meantime, you nodded, taking the chicken wing from Max's hands and taking a bite.

You didn't want to admit it but Lando's reaction wasn't unreasonable. The sauce was fucking spicy. But you tried to not let it show too much.

"It's spicy, that's for sure", you managed to say, taking a sip of the cold milk next to Lando.

"Well, at least you didn't spit everywhere like Lando", Max chuckled, slapping his best friend's back.

"She never-", Lando started with a grin, looking up at you, but before he could say anything else, you put your hand over his mouth, stopping him from telling a stupid sexual joke.

"You didn't eat the earlier ones", Lando complained, his voice muffled due to your fingers on his lips.

You listened to Lando answering Niran's question, with your boyfriend's arm still wrapped around your legs.

"Your lips alright again, mate?", Max asked teasingly.

"Mmh-mmh", Lando asked, looking up with his head thrown back. You could read his face telling you he wanted a kiss. You shook your head but still leaned down to peck his cheek, not feeling quite comfortable to properly kiss him with a camera recording you and in a video that will be posted on social media soon, before walking back to your chair behind the camera.

"You okay over there?" Max asked, after a few more hot wings when he noticed you pacing up and down behind the camera.

"My lips are burning", you replied. The boys laughed. "No, really it's actually painful", you called back, chuckling.

"You want ice cream", Lando offered, holding up the vanilla ice cream box. You agreed and walked over, the spoon already ready in Lando's hands.

You opened your mouth, letting Lando feed you. "You know Lando's salvia is all over that, he drooled on it", Max pointed out, looking at the spoon in Lando's hand.

"My salvia has been different places already", Lando quickly replied, not even taking his gaze of you.

"LANDO!", you yelled, realizing what he just said and threw the empty milk can that stood on the table at him.

Lando dodged the can successfully. "What? It's true", Lando laughed, smearing ice cream on your cheek.

Then he pulled a third chair closer for you to sit on.

"If there's anything you would change in Formula 1, what would you do?", Niran went on with the questions. "I'd make them do this. On the grid. During the national lanthem- lanthem", Lando replied, struggling to pronounce the words coming out of his mouth.

Max and you started laughing. "It's alright, baby", you laughed, making Lando look up at you. "You have the exact same look on your face as if you just came from a night club, completely shitfaced", you told him with a chuckle.

"I- I do talk li- la", Lando slurred, only confirming his words by the way he said them. You laughed and buried your fingers in his curls when he laid his head on the table.

"I need something to eat, something that's not spicy", he whined and sat back in his chair. "You want noodles?", you asked, grinning at the state your boyfriend was in.

Lando looked up and nodded, looking like a little kid. You smiled and ruffled his curls before standing up and walking to the kitchen upstairs.

Only a few minutes later Lando and Max came up from the filming room. Your boyfriend came up behind you and wrapped his arm around your body, his head resting on your shoulder.

"I’m almost done", you told Lando, who nodded and sat down next to Max on at the kitchen counter.

You took two plates from the cupboard and placed them in front of the two boys before putting the noodles along with the sauce on the table.

Lando pulled you closer like he had earlier while filming as well and put his head against your stomach.

Ria entered the kitchen and chuckled at the scene in front of her. Both boys looking like they just went through the most traumatic experience of their lives, with milk dripping down their shirts. "What happened to you two?", she laughed.

"Now you wait till you do that video", Lando called, grabbing his burning throat after, making you and Ria chuckle.

Comments:

fan: Y/N CAMEO??? IN A QUADRANT VIDEO

fan: She gets along with Max so well, I love it

fan: Ria is probably so happy she doesn't need to deal with the guys on her own anymore

fan: I don't think we need an official statement about their relationship anymore

> fan: Yeah, I think that's confirmation enough...

> fan: "My salvia has been different places already"

> fan: Charlotte would sue him for that

> fan: PAHAHAH SHE DEFINITELY WOULD

fan: Her voice is so calming, I could listen to her talk all day

> fan: Her accent is so adorable

fan: Y/n immediately burying her hands in Lando's curls is the cutest thing I've seen all day

> fan: Can we blame her? His curls do look amazingly touchable

fan: Now after this, I wanna see drunk Lando

fan: I wanna see more of boyfriend Lando, he’s the cutest

taglist

@im-an-overthinker @buendiabebeta @hungryhungariann @ohthemisssery @kenopsiababe @sawendel @enjoymyloves @ricsaigaslec @ravenqueen27 @temqr1 @leclerc16s @theamazingsimplethings-blog @coldmuffinbanditshoe @hotchnisscm97 @andtheworldiscrashingdownonme @moneymasnn @justme2042 @amulhermaisfelizdomundo @pleasantducktimetravel @anthonykatebridgerton @lisannehus @hannahholland1811 @lighttsoutlewis @mydutchproblem @dan3avocado @alwaysclassyeagle @cocomiracle @allthisfortommy @soleilgrec @cheeryara-blog @person2345-blog @aquamariene-me @judespoision @sbgal @teti-menchon0604 @darleneslane @flower-name @mehrmonga @bingewatche

#lando norris #f1 #mclaren #lando norris fluff #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #lando norris smut #lando norris angst #ln4 #quadrant

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starneteyam · 1 year

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TOUCHY ★

🖇️ char. Neteyam x Omaticayan! fem! reader

🖇️ warn. Spicy, jealousy, fluff

🎥 In which Neteyam is an extremely affectionate boyfriend whose love language is physical intimacy, and when some Metkayinan boys start getting a bit too flirty with you, be gets jealous and sulks

A/N Just a short drabble

Neteyam was your mate, and you were his. Ever since he first hooked his eyes on you a year ago, he had been obsessed with you in every way. The way you looked at him with loving eyes, or the way you never complained whenever he held your hand while you did whatever you needed to do. You understood Neteyam loved being physically intact with you.

When he was sitting next to you, even that wouldn’t be enough. He would lay his head on your shoulder, or hold your hand, or wrap his arm around you. Around his family, he would play with your hair—the tiny unbraided strands of your goddess braids, or he would just hook a finger around yours.

He had separation anxiety, though you would never comment on it. You didn’t mind, one bit. You thought that part of him was adorable, like a little puppy.

Because you were his mate, it was decided that you would move to Awa’atlu with Jake and his family, leaving your family behind. You were heartbroken, having to leave your siblings and parents behind, but you said your goodbyes and left anyways.

When you arrived at the Pandora Reefs, Neteyam never let go of your hand, not once. But this time, it was to reassure you. When Au’nong and Rotxo stepped forward, he pulled you behind him, while they smirked.

At your new home, he huffed in displeasure. “They were looking at you.” He sulked, sitting next to you with his head on your collarbone, your body leaning against the wooden pillar, his pointer finger hooked to your pinkie.

You smiled reassuringly, shaking your head. “And I was looking at you, Neteyam.” You told him softly, playing with the bead on his braid. Your heart was full, your throat tightening at how adorable he was.

Another instance was when you were at the beach with Tuktirey, accompanying her and looking for seashells on the shallow waters. The two of you knelt on the sand, her laughing in joy. “Look, there’s one!” You laughed, pointing at a pink shell when you heard the water behind you splashing as if somebody was walking near you.

You turned around, seeing a stranger your age walking up to you with two of his friends. You furrowed your eyes. “Tuk, come here.” You whispered, ushering her.

She whimpered in fear as you grabbed her arm and pulled her behind you. You then stood up. “What’re you doing?” The boy asked, tilting his head. You gave him a dirty look. “Can I help you?” You asked, ignoring his question. His friend laughed. “We just want to get to know you, chill out.” He shrugged his shoulders, and you tried your hardest not to roll your eyes.

“I like your hair.” The third guy commented, running his fingers through some braids on your hair. “We should hangout sometime, I can show you some islands around here.” The first guy said, smiling. You huffed, frowning.

“Excuse me.” You mumbled, making sure to keep Tuk away from the guys as you walked past them, and away. “O-Okay! See you around!” The guy yelled after, and you shook your head in disbelief and sighed. Pathetic.

Unknown to you, Neteyam had seen it all. He had the urge to go in and just punch those guys square in the jaw, but after fighting the Au’nong and his friends yesterday, he was sure his father would skin him alive if he were to cause more trouble.

So instead, he stayed out of sight, and watched quietly as his nails dug into his palms. He was glad you quickly had left and even barely spoke to them, displaying your clear unliking to them, but still, he couldn’t help but feel jealous.

Later that day, when the sky was dark, you stood in your home, your back turned to the entrance as you were busy taking the leaves off of berries Kiri had picked. You heard Neteyam enter, turning your shoulder and glancing at him. “How was your day, Neteyam?” You asked, not having seen him all day. He stayed silent, which you ignored. If he didn’t want to talk, he didn’t have to talk. You respected that of him, because you had your moments too.

You heard him dropping his things on the floor, then walk up to you. Without saying a word, his hands slid around your waist, pressing himself against your back as he kissed your shoulder. You smiled, leaning your hair into him as you continued to pick at the berries. His butterfly kisses trailed up your shoulder, to your neck, and his kisses became longer. Your breath hitched as he started sucking softly on the skin on your neck, his thumb rubbing your stomach.

“Neteyam.” You whispered, turning your head slightly towards him, but he ignored you again. You were confused on why he was acting this way. His tongue pressed against the bruises on your neck, before he turned you around and kissed your lips. You immediately responded. “Netey- mm- What’s- Mmph!” You tried talking, but he kept cutting you off by kissing you, each kiss more aggressive than the last. “Shh.” He hushed quickly, before kissing you again.

You did as told, letting him pour his feelings out on you. Your fingers brushed his back, tracing his spine upwards, before lightly tugging on his hair. He pushed his lips against yours, trying to get as close as he could to you, his eyebrows furrowed. He felt goosebumps on his skin as your tail brushed up the inside of his leg. After leaving his final kiss on you, he hugged your waist, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

Surprised, you looked at him, before smiling softly and rubbing his back. “What happened, Neteyam?” You asked quietly, closing your eyes as you leaned your head against his. He was silent for a couple heartbeats, but then finally spoke. “I saw those guys trying to hit on you today.” He whispered, and it almost broke your heart—how cute he was. You laughed at his sulking sight, hugging him tighter. “Neteyam, you are too perfect for this world.” You told him, kissing his head.

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dcxdpdabbles · 3 months

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DC X DP Fanfic idea: It's all Fun and Games Kids!

Danny Fenton moves to Gotham.

He moved there not because his parents ran him out of the house. His dad was bawling and begging him to stay while his mother spent three full days writing up different graphs to show how much safer was by nearing by so they could protect him.

(It's not like he still lived with them. Danny had moved out to his own place in amity when he was twenty-five. Moving clear across state lines wasn't much of a difference in his eyes)

He moved there, not because the ectoplasm was high. Ectoplasm is everywhere on Earth, and quite frankly, Gotham's was as polluted as its water was. It made the air spicy.

He moved there not because he was offered an amazing job or a life-changing opportunity. Danny's full-time job was writing novels. They were all based on his adventures in the Ghost Zone -with changed names of course- and were a hit online. He also had all of the Ghost King's gold.

He moved there simply because Danny wanted to.

Something about the city called to him, in a way that said "Hey this could be your home." He visited once for a Humpty Dumpty concert and fell in love with the sights, the people, and the life of Gotham.

Now some people would accuse him of being mad. Those people probably had a rebellious teenage stage where they had done crazy things like sneak out of the house, underage drink, sleeping around, or smoke something.

Danny, when he was a teenager, was fighting for his life and the lives of the ungrateful townspeople.

He didn't get to his rebellious stage. He didn't get his rush of doing something stupid because he was young and thought himself bigger than life.

So here Danny is, living his life as he pleases to make up for it.

He doesn't have to sneak out of his house since he owns it, he rather not drink or smoke (would they even affect him? His healing factor has never been tested against it) and Danny would like to be emotionally attached if he decided to sleep with someone.

What then does a man with too much time, too much power, and not enough bad young person decisions do?

He flirts with Death.

Death just so happens to be Batman-shaped.

Now it's all fun and games. He knows he doesn't have a real chance with Batman- it's Batman. Way out of Danny's league.- but that doesn't mean he can allow himself to fall into stupid situations and be dramatically rescued by the crime fighter.

Now if only his kids weren't so good at their jobs.

"You really should be more careful, Mr. Fenton. This is the third time this week" Nightwing says while untieing him. Danny does his best not to pout at the other. He had been having fun finding the answers to the riddles.

He wasn't at all worried about the fact he was placed over a pool of burning chemicals. He had been tried to a chair that was carefully balanced on overlapping ropes. It wire would snap with each correct answer, until he would fall his demise unless they could outsmart the Riddler.

Danny had gotten five out of ten correct before Nightwing burst through the ceiling.

"I don't mind," Danny says rubbing his wrists. "Better me than someone innocent."

Nightwing's lips purse "You are innocent."

"Yes, but I hardly matter in the grand scheme of things." Danny waves his hand missing the look of distress on the hero's face. He looks around the darkness of the ceiling hoping to spot a certain crouching figure.

"Is Tall Dark and Daddy here with you?" He asks Nightwing when he fails to see him.

"Please don't call him that."

Danny shrugs, suppressing his smile. He twirls back around to Nightwing pulling out a piece of paper from his jean's pocket. "By the way, I found the other victims, hid them in the cellar, and drew a of map of Riddle's bombs for you. You're welcome."

Nightwing stares before carefully taking the map. He taps his ear twice, muttering in a code- for that may be English but sounded like gibberish that it can not be anything else but code- and only after he hears a voice respond back does the hero give a strained smile. "Thank you, Mr. Fenton. This helps a lot."

"You're welcome!" He repeats with a bright smile. It's so odd for his efforts to be appreciated. Odd but nice.

Danny waits for the other to do his Bat-trained disappearing act- sometimes he wonders if Gotham gave her Knights a form of invisibility- but the man remains.

He shuffles his feet uncomfortable and Danny's eyes light up. Oh! Another attempt to get him to stop flirting with his father. What fun~!

"Mr. Fenton.....last week Red Robin rescued you from the Joker. Do you remember?"

"Yes. Red Robin is a great kid."

"A kid....weird for you to call him that when he's only a few years younger than you." Nightwing starts but Danny holds up a hand.

"I'm older than you"

There is a tight frown on the other man's face now. "You are not."

"I am." Danny pulls out his wallet flashing his ID card. The downside to his Ghostly powers is that he seems to be aging at a slower rate- at least physically. His parents theorized that he would take two years instead of the one that his aging required. Not an accurate number but the closest they had especially since both his parents were late bloomers and had baby face.

While Danny might be thirty-eight he appeared to be no older than nineteen.

"Mr. Fenton I don't think you should be carrying a fake-"

"Stay away from my father Harlot!" Robin screeches falling down from the shadows above. He points a very sharp sword at Danny's neck, sneering the whole time. "He has better things to do than rescue a love-struck worthless fool!"

Danny, leans on the top of the sword, eyes drinking into Robin's slight flinch when it cuts his skin a little. This is it. The Rush he had been craving for.

"I don't mean to be kidnapped Robin honest. It just sort of happens in Gotham." He makes his voice and body innocent in a way even Orphan can not tell he is lying. He knows because Clockwork confirmed the last time they met that the girl read his body language just as he wanted her to.

The two ghosts met up regularly to watch his overly "sweet" eyes fluttering and cheerful "Oh Batman you rescued me~!" performances together for a good laugh.

"You lie! You plan for this to happen to try and seduce my Father!"

Huh. The kid was smarter then his foul mouth and snobby behavior looked. Still Danny only had to twist his face into confusion for Nightwing to step in. The other vigilantes pulled the scowling child away, scolding him for harassing frightened civilians.

It was fun to see but nothing beat making polite come-ons to Batman- nothing gross like catcalling but more of overly thankful and dreamy sighs. Maybe he should see what Two-face is up to?

Surely the man would take him hostage and Batman's many children would be too busy to save him thus leading the Dark Knight himself to come to his aid.

Or in a world where Danny Fenton decides that it would be hilarious if he took on a Brucie Wayne persona in Gotham. Complete with a Heart-eyes-it's-beefy-Batman mentality that tricks the Batfam into thinking he is a Himbo who has bad luck for always getting caught up in villain schemes for being at the wrong place and wrong time.

Also, the Bat kids make it their life goal to keep Bruce from rescuing Danny since they do not like watching Fenton flirt with their dad. Even if Bruce himself ignores the boy they can't really threaten him.

Danny Fenton isn't being malicious or anything. He's just a boy with a crush who doesn't know better.

Clockwork is cackling, recording his favorite parts of Danny's interactions with the Bats.

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #It's all fun and games kids!#spirit halloween #The Batkids are stressed #Danny pretending to be a Himbo #Like Brucie but only towards Batman #Danny looks young as hell #Bruce is ignoring him for now #Slow burn???#Maybe???

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sweetpascal · 3 months

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" someplace nice "

summary: when simon finally comes back home from deployment, he makes sure he spoils you in the best way possible. *wink wink*

warnings: cursing, teasing touches, husband!simon needs a warning of its own UGH, filthy car sex, messy pussy eating, wet noises, missonaryyy, filthy nasty dirty talk, we already know simon has the mouth of a sailor hehe

wc: 2.8k

notes: first of all, i wanna give a big big big shoutout to @suimon because without her AMAZING FUCKING PHENOMENAL works of art, i wouldn't have gotten out of my writing funk and they truly have inspired me 🫶🏼 second of all, i was on twitter and came across this spicy video and it basically helped me create whatever this is 😭 enjoy !

.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・

it wasn’t that you didn’t want to go out tonight. in fact, you’re ecstatic to go out with your husband. it’s only been two days since simon has been back from being deployed for almost one month. he had spent the two days sleeping and getting up to eat when it’s necessary, only to go back to sleeping. you didn’t care about that. you were just happy that he was back home. safe. alive. on the third day, he surprises you with a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

“we’re going out t’night,” he tells you, eyes all soft with a barely there smile on his lips when you go nose deep into the flowers and sniffing deeply with a pleased smile on your face. “i won’t tell you where. but it’s gonna be a nice place.”

that night, you got ready with nervous butterflies bubbling in the pit of your stomach. it had been so long since you and simon have been out on a date night. with his deployments and your full-time job, having time for yourselves, let alone as a couple was a rarity these days.

you sprayed yourself with simon’s favorite perfume of yours and did a once over in the mirror. your hair looked beautiful, your makeup was on point, your outfit wasn’t too flashy nor too casual - it was a body hugging dress with thin straps and tasteful cleavage and some wedged heels. as you walked downstairs, you saw simon waiting for you at the bottom with his keys in hand. he was dressed so nicely and the color of his dress shirt matched your dress. with tight fitting slacks and his ‘going out’ boots, you knew you’d be staring at him all night long. your cheeks warmed when you caught his gaze. his lips had parted and you could’ve sworn his eyes sparkled. although your heels added a few inches to your height, it was still nothing compared to simon. he still stood above you, two and a half heads taller.

“so.. how do i look?”

he didn’t like how hesitant you sounded. with a slow step forward, his finger hooked under your chin to lift your head up. god, the smell of him was mouth watering. you’re on your ovulating schedule so his natural musk combined with his cologne was like sinking your teeth into the tenderest meat there is. you nearly moaned. nearly.

“you look.. almost as beautiful as the day i met you,” he told you, so genuine, so soft, and so in love.

“almost?” you giggled and caught him off guard by pulling him down and clumsily kissing his chin instead of his lips.

“mhm,” he grumbled and led the way outside to his suv.

dinner went smoothly. simon had taken you both to a nice little italian restaurant downtown. it was the perfect place for a romantic night. the tables were dimly lit with candles and fresh flowers. he did everything a gentleman should do. pulling your chair out, knowing your favorite dish and ordering it for you, getting you your own dessert, paying. but the night still had a salacious vibe to it. for some reason, simon just couldn’t keep his hands to himself. his hand kept brushing up on your thigh, subtly hiking your dress up to feel your skin under his fingertips. you had to quietly scold him as the restaurant was nowhere near empty and your table wasn’t secluded from wandering eyes.

“can’t help it,” he told you in your ear, his voice all low and gruff and husky in a way that always had you tingling. “my wife s’just so fuckin’ gorgeous to look at.” and with that, he left a warm kiss under your earlobe, knowing exactly that was the spot he knew makes you whimper. and you did. only loud enough for him to her.

during the car ride home, it began to rain. it was damn near impossible to drive with the way the rain pelted hard and fast onto the windshield and roof. simon cursed under his breath, the hand resting on your thigh tightening for a brief second. you swallowed down a soft moan as it got lodged in the back of your throat. but simon, having the ears of a true soldier, heard it. he fucking hears everything. you hated and loved it simultaneously.

breaking free from your thoughts, the car swerves to the side to go down an empty road leading to an abandoned part. it was the only place farthest from town. no busy streets. no houses. no stores. it was deserted.

“si?” you were getting confused when he put the car into park and turned the ignition off. he turns on the top light and then turns to you. you expected him to give you a kiss with how he’s leaning over the console, but instead he reaches under your passenger seat, pulls the lever, and forcefully slides your seat further back so it puts a big amount of space between you and the dashboard. “simon?!”

“gimme a minute,” was all he says before getting out of the car and getting wet from the rain.

the door slams shut and you’re twisting and turning in your seat. it was pitch black outside with no streetlights, no house lights, no nothing. your side door is yanked open and simon hops in, slamming it shut and locking it after. he’s on his knees in front of you in the passenger side as you’re still in the seat, dumbfounded. he starts to unbutton his dress shirt as he stares down at you. the dim light in the car casts shadows on his face and he looks so fucking good.

your breathing starts picking up as he kneels before you shirtless. he then starts to unstrap your wedged heels, carelessly throwing them into the backseat. you finally let out a moan when he grabs your hips and forces you to slide down your seat and your thighs fall open.

“fuck, you smell so good,” simon grunts and buries his face between your thighs to mouth and nose at your covered cunt. he licks and sucks through the fabric, further getting it wet with his saliva. “taste like fuckin’ heaven.” he’s quick to slide your panties down and hoists your dress up to pool around your hips, fully exposing your bare cunt to his eyes and his eyes only.

“s-simon,” you whimper softly, eyebrows drawn and lips parted. the ache in your core began to hurt. your hips bucked and your thighs twitched. you didn’t know what you wanted. his hot, messy tongue. his long, powerful fingers. or his thick, hard cock. all you can utter is, “please.” please, anything.

immediately, he bows his head and licks a hot stripe from asshole to clit. he focuses more on your clit. he widens his tongue and uses his big hands to hook underneath your knees to press them into your chest. the wet slurps and hot puffs of air all over your messy pussy has you keening with uncontrollable twitches.

“ooh fuck, fuck, oh my god!” you grab onto his wide wrists, manicured nails digging into the skin for some stability. “fuck me. please, fuck me!”

when your voice gets all high pitched and whiny, simon knows it’s go-time. with one hand reaching down to expertly unbutton and slide down his slacks, he uses his other hand to spread your thighs open. your right foot rests on the window ledge. with the dim lighting and the rain pattering on the car roof, everything about this was romantic. simon lowers his head and gives your lips messy, hard kisses. all tongue. all teeth. heavy breathing and hushed moans. you tasted your slick and a hint of wine on his tongue. if that wasn’t the perfect combination, you didn’t know what was.

“you ready f’me?” his voice is so gruff and thick with lust. he taps the head of his leaking cock on your messy cunt. the lewd noises made you want to cover your face from embarrassment of how wet you are. “hm? ‘s this little cunt ready f’me to fuck her?” god, the things he says would be enough to make a deaf nun cry. but you didn’t care. you ached for him, everywhere.

“plea-please, si,” you weakly whimpered. your body was on fire and you were close to tears. wetness made your lashes clump and you sniffled softly. “need you. need it bad. need you.”

he tuts. he actually tuts. and the condescending smile he sends you makes you all the more embarrassed as your cunt leaked even more slick. “poor angel,” he croons and grins wolfishly. “poor, poor baby.”

and then finally, finally, he dips the head inside your pathetic little hole. and inch by inch, he slides in and then slides back out. he slides in again a little more and slides out again. the teasing torture was enough to make you start crying. simon’s arms wrapped around your trembling frame and he allows you to bury your face in his bare shoulders. you’re hugging his big, beefy body to yourself, your hands desperately holding onto his sides.

“i-i can’t ta-take it! fuck me, please, please, simon, please.” you’re babbling incoherently, sobbing softly into his skin and curling your toes as he grinds his cock up and down your cunt before finally sliding all the way in.

“there we go,” he coos in your ear. “there’s my girl.”

almost instantly, the sobbing stops and is replaced with garbled moans and punched gasps. your lips are open on his shoulder and drool slowly begins to seep out. you hug him closer as warmth explodes throughout your entire body from the top of your head to the tips of your toes.

“‘m y’girl,” you can barely form a coherent sentence.

“that’s right,” simon huffs, now starting to work his hips faster against yours. “my good girl.”

his hips smack into yours, his thickness filling you repeatedly. over and over and over again. the lewd wet noises of your slick leaking onto his balls and maybe his thighs has your cheeks flaming up. simon pounds into you, forcing every moan out of your chest and spilling from your lips, no matter how bad you wanted to quiet them as you two were still in the car and anybody could pull up. everything felt so good. he starts speeding up his thrusts, now pounding into you at an alarming speed and causing you to scream hoarsely in the small space. and then he slows to a grinding halt.

“mm, mm, mm,” you whimpered in his shoulder, tears freely sliding down your cheeks from the excessive pleasure you're receiving with little kisses of pain.

simon hears your reaction and does it again, this time creating a rhythm. he’ll fuck into you at a high speed and then slow down. he feels your tits bouncing against his chest and the way your swollen clit is continuously bumping against his pelvis.

“yeah,” he grunts in your ear, tightening his arms around your non-stop shaking body. “fuckin’ take my fuckin’ cock.”

your eyes slowly cross as he slows again, only fucking you with deep, slow, grinding thrusts. you’re 100% sure you’re leaking onto the seat right now. you wouldn’t be surprised if you were. simon’s cock was heaven and hell. you were obsessed. addicted, even. it look a lot of practice for you to take every inch in the early stages of your relationship. he made sure to take his time training your cunt into swallowing his hardness. simon pulled up just enough to capture your lips in a hot, messy kiss. he grinds deep inside, the tip of his cock nudging your cervix deliciously. your hands desperately grasped the sides of his face, your tongue sloppily entering his mouth and circling around his.

“can’t get ‘nough of you” simon grumbles. he keeps kissing and kissing as he grinds his hips in slow, deep circles. “my wife is jus’ so fuckin’ needy, eh?” the subtle cockiness in his tone had your pussy clenching. he grins at that and pistons his hips, fast and hard and unrelenting.

“ah! ah! ah! aaah!” you squealed and scratched down his back. you’ve been on edge for however long. time was nonexistent and this was torture. you needed that final nudge. a certain thing that helped the rollercoaster of euphoria finally crash down from the tip of the hill. “n-need.. cum. need.. n-need to cu-um!” god, you probably sounded so pathetic.

simon grunts every time he delivers hard thrusts that would’ve made your entire body slide up the seat if it weren’t for his arms wrapped around you. your thighs twitched non-stop. your toes curled and repeatedly thumped against the window. clinging onto your husband, your moans start getting more high pitched and drawn out as you got closer and closer, but simon knew what you needed. he always knew what you need. he pulls back enough to direct his attention to your neglected clit, so puffy and swollen and glistening in your slick from having no attention paid to it. simon slows his hips again and grinds to a slow halt once more. his cock throbs as your walls twitched and tightened around him, eagerly sucking him deeper.

“you poor, poor girl,” he tuts, splaying a large hand over your tummy and humming pleased as he feels the bulge of his cock nestled deep inside. “jus’ need my thumb, eh?” with the first swipe, your nails dug deeper into his skin and your thighs nearly shut. and from that reaction, simon knew it was time to finally let his beautiful wife cum.

and for the last time, his hips smack against yours at a fast speed, pounding and fucking as if tonight was the end of the world and you two had to say goodbye to each other. when his thumb lays against your clit, rubbing circles at the same rhythm of his quick hips, the dam finally broke. your body forcibly arched and your head slides between the seat and the backseat window. simon forces your thighs to keep spread open and grunts into your throat as your pussy contracts around his cock. all of your moans kept spilling out - you couldn’t stop them even if you tried. it was like electricity was coursing through your body. the wave of euphoria crashed at an alarming speed and you’re sure you’re screaming, but it sounds like you’re underwater. simon was stunned, in all honesty, at how hard you came. and you just won’t stop.

“agh!” he grunts and pulls his thumb away from your overly sensitive clit. he instead wraps his arms back around your trembling body and does three good, hard thrusts before the knot tightened and tightened and he spills inside of you. he grinds deep and slow, making sure none is wasted and is settled thickly inside your womb.

heavy breathing and weak moans echo in the car. the heavy rain slowed to a gentle drizzle. your thighs couldn’t stop twitching. simon lowers his head and kisses your pulse point so very gently, humming pleased when you sign contently. he kisses the side of your face tenderly, tracing a line from your pulse, up to your soft jaw, and then your plushy cheek. your breathing finally slowed and you lift your head to look up at simon. a bead of sweat slid down his temple and you had half a mind to lick it away. the two of you look into each other’s eyes and there wasn’t a single thing that could make you look away. and there wasn’t a single thing that could ruin this moment. simon had to swallow down the lump in his throat.

“d’you realize jus’ how much i love you?” he asks you quietly, head tilting to brush his strong nose against yours. “i would go to the ends of the earth f’you.”

at this whisper of a confession, you sniffle and let out a watery laugh, a lonesome tear sliding down your cheek that is quickly wiped away by his thumb. he leans down and hovers his lips over yours. you take the last step and curl your fingers into his hair to pull him down. when your lips touched, it felt like everything disappeared at that moment. the two of kissed and kissed until you needed air. and even though, you would take gulps of air and find his lips again. his cock was still snug deep inside. even soft, he still had some length and weight to him. but you loved this. it made you feel more connected to each other. the rain had stopped completely now. you both broke your kiss, a thin string of saliva connecting. simon lightly thumbs at your lip to wipe it away.

“now, lets get you home.”

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley smut #simon riley x reader smut #simon ghost riley x reader smut #husband!simon

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tommysversion · 1 year

Text

Jealousy, Jealousy [ Joel Miller x Reader / Tommy Miller x Reader ]

Summary: you walk in on Joel & Tess, despite your building chemistry with him. Hurt, you turn to his brother for comfort. Joel finds out, and he isn’t happy.

CWs: derogatory language / unsafe sex / age gap implied / oral sex (m!receiving) / cum play / cum eating / choking / alcohol usage / use of pet names / very little plot it’s just a spicy mess

Tag List: @joelsgirl @loquaciousferret @dreamingofdaddydin @funnygirlthatgab

Notes: like always, this is for the girls, the gays and the theys. I wanted to finish my other WIP but this took over. Have fun.

Buy Me A Coffee?

Part Two / Alt Version

The whiskey burns your throat on the way down. You’re on maybe your third or fourth, but it’s still not enough to burn away the sight and sound you came across earlier.

You don’t have any claim on Joel, not really. Nothing has ever happened between you, even though there’s been a few close calls, but you were almost certain that he felt the same way about you as you do about him.

Until you walked in on him and Tess. Now you can’t get the image out of your head, the sight of her beneath him, the sounds…

You slam your empty glass down on the bar. It’s a shitty dive of a place in the QZ, one you all know well enough.

“Whoa there.”

You turn your head to find yourself face to face with Joel’s brother, Tommy, concern etched into his face. He’s not bad looking, not really, but you’ve never really been interested in him. Until now. Now, he’s looking pretty fucking good. Or maybe you’re just noticing him. Who cares.

“Come on, let’s get you home before curfew.” He holds out his hand to you. You don’t need it, not really, you aren’t drunk enough, but you take it anyway, let him lead you out of the bar and onto the streets.

“Why’d you come looking?” You ask as you let him walk you home.

“You didn’t show up to drop off this afternoon. Figured something was wrong, figured I’d find you here.”

“Didn’t think anyone would notice. Joel and Tess seemed too busy to care.” You can’t help the bitterness that creeps into your voice as you mention it.

“Ah.” Tommy shrugs, “try not to worry about it. My brother’s an idiot.”

Normally you’d argue. Jump to his defence. Tonight you just don’t feel like it, too hurt by what you saw to argue. Reaching your apartment block, you turn to him.

“You gonna come in for a drink? Least I can do after you walked me home.”

You know what you’re implying, don’t mind if he takes the hint that you’re offering more than a drink. You almost don’t expect him to follow you, but he does, up the stairs and into your apartment, shutting the door behind you both while you fish out two glasses and a bottle.

“Make yourself at home.”

You pour the liquor while he drops himself down onto your couch, spread out and lazy. Really, he’s quite attractive. You’ve never really noticed before, and maybe it’s the fact that you’re so angry and hurt that’s making you see him in this light, but still.

You hand him one of the glasses, down your own before you sit yourself down on the floor by his feet. You’re being forward as hell and you know it, but you’re tipsy and hurt and you just want to forget for a short while.

He looks down at you, surveys you with dark eyes so similar to Joel’s. The thought makes your heart hurt, so you push it away.

“What are you doing, hon?” His hand comes down to catch your cheek, tilting your head up to look at him.

Tommy doesn’t know what’s going on between you and his brother. Knows that Joel’s an idiot if he doesn’t realise that you’re interested. If he was a better man, he’d push you away, but, well…

It’s been a while since he’s gotten anything, and if his older brother is too stupid to realise you’re right there, dumb enough to fuck around with your feelings and Tess? Well, he doesn’t mind being the collateral.

“Trying to decide whether or not to suck your cock.” You admit, not bothering to be coy as you look up at him.

“Oh, yeah? What’s holding you back?”

“You haven’t said that I can.” You shrug, fingers creeping up his thighs.

“There’s a pretty girl on her knees for me askin’ to suck my dick, you think I’m gonna say no?” Amusement colours his tone.

“Well… I wanted to be polite and ask.” You smirk as your fingers find the zip of his pants, tug it out the way, your small hand reaching in and wrapping around his cock, stroking lazily.

He just leans back into the couch, watches you as you rub your thumb over the head of his cock, brushing across beads of precum, collecting them on your fingers to lick them up.

“Christ…” his eyes darken as he watches you, your eyes on his as you lean in and press feather light kisses to the tip of his cock. He’s nice and big, thick, slightly curved, and you love the slightly salty taste of him.

You don’t like to brag, but you know you’re good at this, enjoy it even, pressing little kisses along the length of him, tiny kitten licks to the slit in the tip, teasing until he fists a hand into your hair and yanks your head down onto his cock, almost making you choke.

You recover quickly, sucking his cock like he’s the most delicious thing you’ve ever tasted, moving your head up and down, guided by the heavy hand in your hair.

“Fuck…” he rocks his hips up into your mouth, getting deeper into your throat, “such a sweet little mouth…”

You hum around him, urged on by the praise, eager to keep pleasing him, so desperate to be wanted…

You know full well this is messy and sloppy, your drool coating his cock, eyes watering slightly as you look up at him. You can’t see it, of course, but you’re a vision to behold, on your knees for him, mascara running down your face as your cheeks hollow out for him, his cock disappearing into your throat like you were made to take him.

God, he’s impressed, both by how well you worship his cock, and by how quickly you’ve worked him up.

“Gonna make me cum, pretty thing…” his hand releases your head, strokes your cheek lazily.

You pull away from him for a moment, wrap your hand around his cock and stroke slowly.

“Cum on my face.” You tell him, hazy with lust and drink. “On my tongue.”

He groans, moves to guide your mouth back to him, but you move faster, wrap your lips around him and let him rut up into your throat, moaning around him. Fuck, he tastes so good, exactly what you needed.

You can feel him becoming more erratic, groaning softly before he pulls out of your mouth, wraps his hand around his cock and strokes it roughly as your lips part, tongue flicking out to catch the hot ropes that spurt from his cock as he groans.

Fuck, you’re a sight to behold, on your knees, makeup a mess, lips parted with his cum on your tongue and your face. You lean in and lick him clean, swallow every drop you can get.

His fingers reach out, swipe through the mess he’s left on your lips, press them into your mouth.

“Suck ‘em, that’s a good girl.”

You do exactly as he says, swirl your tongue around his fingers until you’re satisfied they’re clean.

“You want me to -?”

You shake your head. You’re exhausted, your throat hurts, and while the offer is nice, you don’t think you can stay awake for it.

“Nah, ‘s okay. I just wanted to give you something.” You offer him a small smile as you get to your feet, watch him tuck himself back into his pants.

To his credit, he’s not a jerk. He makes sure you’re safely in your bed with a glass of water beside you before he heads off into the night, leaving you almost wishing you’d taken up his offer.

——

A week later, you’re sitting in the same bar with one of your friends, pointedly ignoring Joel a few seats away.

Once again, you’ve had a few too many to drink, and it’s loosening your tongue.

“So, what’s the deal with you and that guy anyway? The mystery man you were telling me about the other day?” Your friend knows exactly the right questions to ask, and while normally you’re not the bragging type, seeing Joel again has sent that spike of bitter resentment and jealousy through you.

Sure, it’s not like he’d ever promised you anything, but he’d damn well seemingly made it clear he was interested. Only for you to walk in on him fucking Tess like he loved her.

You hate him for it. Hate him for hurting you. More than that, though, you hate yourself for not being brave enough to confront your feelings.

But right now, you’re feeling spiteful, and you know damn well he can hear every word you say.

“Oh, it wasn’t really anything, just a one night thing.” You shrug.

“What did you say his name was again? Jimmy?”

“Tommy.” You run your finger around the rim of your glass.

“As in Miller?”

“Mmhmm.” You can feel Joel’s gaze burning into you as you speak. “He walked me home, one thing led to another…”

“Fuck, he’s so hot though…” your friend sighs, “I bet he has a great dick.”

“I mean… I liked it.”

You giggle, a very uncharacteristic sound, but still. You don’t regret what happened, not at all. You like giving head, and it wasn’t like he had an unpleasant dick. If anything, you kind of wish you’d let him fuck you. Maybe another time, seeing as Joel is clearly no longer interested.

“Are you gonna give me any details, or?”

You’re about to open your mouth when a hand clamps down on your shoulder.

“Outside. Now.”

You don’t need to look to know Joel’s pissed; you do anyway, are met with his stormy glare.

“Nice to see you too, Joel.”

“I mean it. Outside, now, or I’ll drag your ass out.” One look at him tells you he’s not kidding.

Sighing, you excuse yourself from your friend. Follow Joel out of the bar into the street, or rather, let him tow you out. Let him drag you by the wrist back to your apartment. Nobody wants to be caught in the streets at this hour.

“What the fuck, Joel?” You demand as soon as he’s slammed the door behind you.

“Don’t you what the fuck me.” He growls, crossing his arms over his chest as he backs you into the small room.

“I absolutely will, what’s your goddamn problem?” You hiss at him, furious. Furious and still hurt, because the last time you saw him he was fucking another woman, and no matter what you do you can’t get rid of that image.

“You! You’re my goddamn problem, running your mouth in that bar where anyone could hear you.”

You roll your eyes at him, your own temper flaring.

“How is what I was talking about any of your business?” You demand, glaring at him. “How is what I do any of your business?”

Admittedly you’re not very intimidating in comparison, but still.

“You were making a damn fool of yourself. Do you ever know when to keep your fucking mouth shut?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t you ask your brother? He seemed to know how to shut me up.” The words come out before you can stop them.

Joel exhales slowly, pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger.

“Is there a reason you’re being such a goddamn bitch? Fucking my brother included.” He’s so damn frustrated right now, not understanding what’s gotten into you.

Usually you’re so sweet to him, the pair of you dancing around the mutual attraction you share. He’s not going to push it if you don’t, but maybe he’s misread things?

You stare at him.

“Are you fucking serious right now? You don’t know why I’m mad at you?”

He just stares at you.

“I heard you and Tess, you asshole. So yeah. I know that for all your sweet words and the way we’ve been dancing around the subject? That’s just how you are, right? Anything to get laid, I guess.” You spit the words.

Something in his gaze snaps as he crosses to you, backs you against the wall, slams one hand into the cracked plaster beside your shoulder, the other settling on your throat.

You’re too angry to be scared, even though you know he’s dangerous, know you’ve pushed him too far, like poking a goddamn angry bear.

“First, don’t fucking assume that you know any goddamn thing about what happened that day.” He’s leaning right down to you, you can smell the whiskey on him, but still you aren’t afraid.

“Second, don’t presume that I’m that sort of bastard. You really think I’d do that to you?”

You glare at him.

“You already have.” You hate that your voice shakes as you say it.

Joel sighs as he looks at you.

“I’ve known her almost as long as you’ve been alive. Almost but not quite. There’s a difference between me fucking her when it means nothing, and what you’ve done.”

You glare at him again, because you don’t see any difference.

“It may not mean anything to you, but it definitely does to her.”

“And that’s her fucking problem, I’ve made it goddamn clear to her that I don’t see her that way, that that would be the last time. Then you go and fuck my brother?”

Somehow, suddenly, it becomes important to clarify. As if somehow it will make him less angry.

“Technically, I didn’t fuck him.”

“You-“ Joel stops mid sentence and looks at you. “You didn’t?”

“No. I mean, I sucked his dick, but… I was angry, I was so fucking angry and I just wanted to feel something. I just wanted to feel wanted.”

Joel stares at you like he’s never seen you before. Like he’s trying to understand you.

“And I don’t make you feel wanted?”

“Not when I walk in on you fucking someone who hates me, no. Not particularly.” You look away from him, before you do something stupid, like cry, which is a very real possibility whenever you think about what you saw, what you heard.

“Guess I need to change that.”

His hand drops from the wall, the other one releasing your throat as he leans in and devours your unsuspecting lips in a kiss. It’s desperate and angry and hungry, but you cling to him, your fury and your need pouring into it as he lifts you up, carries you across the room and into your room.

You pull him down on top of you, not letting go when he sets you down on the mattress, kisses still full of fury and rage but of something else, too, something you’ve been holding back for far too long.

“Still can’t believe you let my goddamn brother touch you.” Joel growls it into the soft skin of your throat, grinding his cock against you, your clothes still in the way.

You shove your skirt up, hands finding his belt. He catches your wrists in one hand.

“Were you this fucking eager for him, too?”

There’s that dark glint in his eyes again, possessive and jealous, even though he started this, even though he knows that really, he has no right to be angry. It doesn’t stop him.

“Does it matter, Joel? You really think I’d have done it if you’d just fucking…”

“Just what, sweetheart?” He releases your wrists, only because he needs his hand to tear your panties down, cup your bare cunt in his rough hand.

“Just fucking admitted you wanted me first!” You snap at him, grinding yourself against his hand in spite of your temper.

“Yeah, well. We all make mistakes, don’t we?” He plunges two fingers knuckle deep into your cunt, effectively stopping you from answering with anything but a strangled moan.

Your hands tear at his belt, yank his jeans down, your hand wrapping around the length of him. Fuck, he’s big, bigger than his brother, thick and hard and dripping pre cum, all for you, all because of you, because in spite of how angry he is, he still wants you.

Just as you want him, your cunt aching and dripping onto his fingers as he fucks you with them, hard and fast and punishing.

“I should make you suck my cock, refuse to touch you; but if I do that, what’s to say you won’t go and whore yourself out to someone else?”

His words are dark, gaze feral as he looks down, watches his fingers disappear inside you.

“Better I just take you, ruin you for anyone else. You won’t want anyone else when I’m done with you, it’ll be nothing in comparison.” He leans in and bites your throat, right above your collarbone.

“Is that right?” Your hand strokes him roughly; you can feel how needy you are for him, feel yourself tightening around his fingers but it’s not enough, you need more.

“Don’t fucking push me, sweetheart.” He growls it, drags his fingers out of you, presses them to your mouth.

Automatically you part your lips, suck on his thick, rough fingers until they’re coated in your saliva rather than your slick, your eyes on him the entire time.

He groans, a sound that’s still closer to a growl than a moan.

“Fuck sake…” he’s still furious with you, that fury coming back tenfold at the lewd way you suck his fingers, as if they were his cock.

“This how you sucked him off?”

“I don’t know,” you challenge, “are you gonna fuck me like you fucked her?”

He glares at you, and for a moment you’re afraid he’ll pull away, that you’ve pushed him too far.

He does the opposite, moves so fast you can’t keep up, lines himself up and slams into you, every inch of his cock pressing deep. You scream out for him, half in pleasure, half in surprise.

Fuck, he’s so big it hurts, you feel so full you’re not certain you can take him, but he doesn’t care, doesn’t give you any time to adjust, one hand bracing himself on the mattress, the other gripping your waist to pull you onto his cock, over and over until your back arches off the bed.

“No,” he growls in answer to your question, “I’m gonna fuck you like you deserve.”

He’s relentless, pounding into you like you’re the only thing keeping him tethered to this world, rough and hard, growling against your skin the entire time, covering every bit of exposed skin with bite marks and bruises.

“Joel…” it comes out half squeal, half moan as he hitches your leg higher around his waist, gets deeper inside you.

“That’s it, sweetheart, can feel how needy you are for me. Don’t think you’ll ever want anyone else, huh?”

You shake your head, mute except for mewls and sighs of pleasure, your nails digging into his arms, trying to hold on, but unable to think straight, barely able to see or focus.

“That’s what I thought, baby, gonna get you so fuckin’ addicted to my cock you’ll forget all about anyone else. This sweet pussy is all mine.”

Fuck, he wishes he’d done this sooner, wishes he’d avoided this entire fucking debacle, because he’s afraid it’ll always hang between you now, unless he fucks you so hard you forget.

“Already was, Joel, always been yours…” you moan it out for him, fingers finding the sweat damp curls of his hair and tugging, hard.

He moans, a deep, guttural sound that you immediately commit to memory, the sound alone making your cunt throb around him.

“Oh, you like that, baby? You like hearing what you do to me?” He shakes his head, grinds into you slowly before resuming his relentless pace.

“Fuck, Joel, I’m gonna…”

Oh, he knows. He can feel you fluttering around him, tight little hole becoming even tighter as he fucks you, leans down and presses a searing kiss to your mouth before he pulls out of you.

You whine at the loss, but before you can say anything else he has you flipped onto your front, face buried in the mattress, ass in the air as he slams back into you, both hands on your waist as he fucks you so hard you see stars.

There’s no holding back, not anymore, your hands clawing at the mattress as your eyes roll back slightly from the pleasure, feeling yourself tighten painfully around him before your climax hits, hard and fast, washing over your entire body, leaving you shaking beneath him, screaming his name loud enough that the entire goddamn building can hear.

“That’s fucking right baby, you scream for me. You tell everyone that you’re mine.” He yanks your hair back, holds you upright as he ruts into you, thrusts becoming more and more sloppy and erratic with each movement.

“Every fuckin’ inch of you is mine, you hear me?”

“Yours, Joel, all yours…” you moan it for him, still on the high of your climax, entire body over stimulated.

“That’s goddamn right.” He slams in deep once more, one final time, grinds against you as he cums, fills your tight little pussy with hot ropes of his spend, groaning the entire time.

He stays there for a moment, catches his breath before he pulls out of you, flops down beside you.

There’s a moment’s pause, where you aren’t sure whether you’ll still see rage in his eyes if you look at him. Aren’t sure whether he’ll see it in you, either.

He saves you having to look, answers the unasked question by pulling you into his arms, holding you tight against his chest.

“I’m so-“

“Don’t.” You reach up to touch your hand to his lips. “Don’t be. I should be the one apologising.”

“I think we both owed each other an apology, to be honest.” Joel says finally, “though, uh… maybe that was a good start?”

You laugh, lean into him.

“Skip the apology and go straight for the makeup sex, huh?”

Joel smirks, presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Oh, darling. That wasn’t the makeup sex. That was the I’m fucking furious sex. You’ll like the makeup sex a whole lot more.”

Smirking yourself, you roll on top of him, lean down so you can press a kiss to his mouth.

“I like the sound of that. How do I sign up for it?”

“You promise we won’t touch anyone else. Ever.”

You press a long, heated kiss to his parted lips.

“Easy enough for me.”

“Good.” Another smirk before he rolls you, pinning your smaller frame beneath him. “I fucked you like I hated you. Now you’re gonna find out how I fuck when I love you.”

You just whimper, wrap your fingers into his curls and drag him into another kiss. It’s going to be a long night.

#my writing #joel miller #the last of us #tommy miller #pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #Tommy Miller x reader #joel miller smut #tommy miller smut #pedro pascal character fic #tommy miller x you #joel miller x you

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onsunnyside · 2 years

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1. Steve telling legacy to properly "apologize " to him after she accidently touched bryce's or someone's thigh while talking to them and he saw.

2. Fk! Ari fucking reader and well idk if it is cannon or nor but he defo has belly bulge kink.

3. Dark!third eye! Steve helping Bambi clean after she went out without asking him.

~🌻

He makes you beg for his forgiveness too 😖 “if you’re that sorry, you wouldn’t mind spending the night on your knees.”

Omg he presses down on the bulge, watching you fall limp on the mattress all cockdrunk. “Daddy’s all up in your guts, sugar—tearing your sweet pussy apart.”

I bet he uses the shower head to really get you clean too 😵‍💫

#🌻 anon #spicy videos #fic ask #captains legacy ask #captains legacy: spicy #captains legacy: thots #fk ask #fk: thots #fk: spicy #third eye ask #third eye: spicy #third eye: dark #third eye: thots

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garfunklefield · 24 days

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hiiiii can i request a pregnant reader x toji where he learns sex induces labor? and the reader is like GET THIS BABY OUT OF ME and he wants to "relieve" her pain??

Fucking for two

18+ viewer discretion advised

fem!reader/Toji Zenin Warnings: pregnancy sex, pregnancy fetish/kink, breeding kink, rough sex, Toji is hung that’s canon, they’re married and in their 30s, attempted mating press but she’s like 9 months pregnant, creampie, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, fingering, breast milk kink, breast milk play, Toji's gonna suck some nipnips, dacryphilia, I'm gonna be honest this is not realistic, squirting Word count: 2820 DESC: Toji wants to relieve your pain and get off at the same time

Well anon this was an interesting experience! And some of it is not accurate like the breast milk part but we ball.

“Hey bitch,” Toji strolled into your shared room with a more playful expression than usual. He gave your annoyed glare a wiggle with his eyebrows, “I know how to get that baby outta you.”

You were a week late. Almost two at that point. And you had been dying to get this god-forsaken baby out of you for days. You’ve tried spicy food, yoga, or sour food. Anything you heard that might’ve made your pregnancy end. But nothing worked! So you were stuck with this large lump inside of you sucking the life force from your mind. You wanted so desperately to be free from the shackles of pregnancy so you could do certain things like bathe properly or lay on your side. So when your amazing husband suggested a way to get this baby out of you… you wanted to hear him out.

“Hm?” You looked up from your laptop, closing it as you stared at him. God, he was such eye candy. Maybe that was the reason you stayed all through his interesting quirks. (Like gambling or drinking himself half-blind) He was hot. You couldn’t deny it. The way his muscles poked out through his tight shirt always made you clench your legs together, even if you couldn’t exactly do that right now.

He looked over at you and smirked before answering, “We fuck.”

You had to do a double-take. You … what? You two had been intimate during your pregnancy, giving him blowjobs and him eating you out. But you hadn’t engaged in sexual intercourse like that. You didn’t think Toji found you attractive enough to pound you like he used to. Mainly since he had been a lot more careful around you ever since you hit the third trimester; Maybe it was your hormones, but you didn’t think he could find your bloated body attractive currently.

“Toji I’m not having sex with you,” you shook your head, looking down at your closed laptop filled with anime stickers from various shows you liked.

“I don’t wanna see you all miserable. It’s annoying,” he shrugged as you made a sour face. You knew he meant well, but Toji always had a way with words. A bad way with words.“Besides. I kinda wanna fuck a pregnant bitch.”

You gave him a warning glare and he cleared his throat, “Pregnant woman.”

“I… you don’t need to say all that. I know I’m not very hot right now and taking care of me is a pain in the ass. But you don’t need to force yourself to sleep with me just to get it over with…” You mumbled, looking up at him. His face contorted from a smirk to a weird look. He stared at you as if you were crazy. Like you just said the wildest thing imaginable without any warning.

You thought … you weren’t attractive like that? You thought you weren’t attractive to him? And you thought you were making him force himself to sleep with you? Oh, you really were insane. Toji was deeply and madly in love with you, even if he didn’t exactly show it. You’ve always been hot to him, no matter what. You’ve been together for five years, of course, you’ve changed. You didn’t look like the same girl he first met at that bar and he didn’t care. He loved you no matter how big or small you were. If you were carrying his child or not. He loved you. If fucking you while pregnant was going to get rid of your agony, he’d do it in a heartbeat.

And he didn’t want to admit the other reason why he’d been dying to fuck you pregnant. He had a certain kink he’d never been able to try since you were his first wife. Once you got too big to lay on your side or even get up without help, Toji thought you wanted him to be more gentle. So he abstained from slapping your ass or grabbing you while you were fast asleep beside him. But he wanted to.

He wanted to fuck you raw while you were pregnant with his seed. And he wanted to induce labor and have your water break all over his meaty cock. You didn’t want to see his PornHub browsing history, because, for the past nine months, it was all pregnancy porn. He couldn’t help it. Just the thought of you filled with his baby being fucked by him got him off in ways he didn’t know.

“You’re crazy, you know that?” Toji replied after a moment of pure silence. He got onto the bed and crawled towards you, pushing your laptop to the side, “I wanna fuck a pregnant bitch. And I wanna fuck you. So … let’s fuck.”

You blinked a few times, “Oh you have such a way with words, Zenin,” a small smile bit at your lips and you nodded, “If you aren’t forcing yourself, then sure. Is it like a fetish of yours or something?” One of your arms slung around your husband's neck and he nodded, inhaling in your scent. He didn’t care if you thought you smelt bad, he loved it. He loved how you naturally always smelt a certain way, that he could pick you out in a crowd. He rested his head against your large belly and closed his eyes briefly.

Soon this would be gone and a baby Megumi would be born. You both decided on the more feminine name because screw gender roles! And it was the only thing you two could agree on.

One of his big hands trailed from the top of your stomach down to the hem of your pants, sneaking past the waistband and making its way to your underwear. Your breath hitched at your lips and you felt two fingers dip into your pussy. It was a slow and methodical movement that he did, just swirling around your clit to get you all hot and bothered. His other hand trailed up to fondle your breasts. You let out a small gasp and before you knew it that hand was in your shirt. He pinched and rolled your nipple around between his fingers, just to feel you tense up beneath him.

“Toji… remember I’m gonna…” You bit your lip and exhaled a shaky moan as you felt him continue. He moved his head up from your stomach to find its way inside your shirt as well, taking your other breast and nipple into his mouth. He let his teeth rake around your sensitive pebble and suck it just to see your reaction. You had never been one for nipple play, but after you got pregnant they had become so sensitive… just a bit of fondling never hurt.

You had forgotten what you were about to say when you felt a strange sensation come from the center of your nipples. Oh. That. You found yourself prematurely leaking colostrum or breast milk, whenever your nipples were fondled with. Toji must’ve forgotten since he went mouth-first into your chest. But he didn’t even flinch as you felt them drain into your husband's palm and mouth. Instead, you realized he was going a bit harder, sucking and pinching as if his life depended on it.

His hand was still on your clit in a way that made you dizzy. All of it was just to prepare you for the horse he was going to force into your cunt. Toji was hung, he was massively hung. Even after five years he still needed to let you adjust to his girth by fingering you until you were wet enough to handle it. You always loved how big he was compared to your tight pussy. It made it all the more pleasurable to think about that log touching your cervix.

One finger dipped into your wetness, quickly followed by a second, just to tease you. He pumped them in and out of you very slowly, not fast enough to cause you any release. But instead, slow enough you had a chance to savor the pleasure. He wanted to take his time with this. He wanted to relish in the fact he was fucking you so good your water would break all over him. He wanted to take a video just to show the event happen, letting all your juices flow onto his thick cock.

“T..Toji,” you whimpered, letting your head fall back onto the headboard, “F-fuck… mm- fuck me.. Pleaaa..ssee?” You looked down at him still inside your shirt. You wanted to see his face as he fucked you from the front. You wanted him to manhandle you until you couldn’t stand, which you were beginning to think wouldn’t happen since he was taking his goddamn time with your breasts.

Toji pulled back slowly from your sensitive nipple and pulled your shirt up, and over his head, “Whuh?” He blinked a few times, clearly getting distracted by your lovely chest. He loved the way you squirmed while he sucked and prodded at them. Even if he wasn’t a tits guy, he’d never let them feel neglected.

“Fuck me,” you blurted out, staring at him with an intense gaze. He nodded and smiled, removing his hand from your underwear. Then he delicately took off your pants, making sure not to hurt you or the baby as he pulled them off. Then came your panties, which slid right off. Both articles of clothing were tossed off the bed, followed by his pants and boxers.

“You’re picking those up later,” you frowned, looking down to see his prize. God, he was like if Willam Defoe and Drake had a baby… So, huge. The girth was something you didn’t even think was possible for a man, but there it was. He snaked a large hand around his tip and let the precum smear across his fingers, which he moved down his shaft. You needed that throbbing member inside your cunt this instant or you didn’t know what you’d do!

Toji pressed his swollen tip against your folds and let his cock do the work. You felt yourself stretch as he slowly inserted himself, giving you time between pushes to adjust. He was perfect. The way his penis curved hit your perfect, plush spot in a way that made you instantly bite your lip. But he wasn’t done yet. One arm slowly reached for your leg and pushed it up. Well, it didn’t go entirely up, but up enough to simulate a really shitty mating press. Then came the other one. So the position was more like: Toji on his knees, slightly hunched over, with you on your back. With your two legs held up by his arms, knees slung over his elbows. If that made any sense you’re also as insane as I am.

You let out a moan and threw your head back into the pillow behind you, as he fully inserted himself. A few seconds passed and slowly, Toji pulled back. Then he thrust forward. A noise that you hadn’t heard come out of your husband escaped his lips. It was almost like … a whimper? No-no that’s impossible, Toji would never whimper! Oh … but he did.

“F-fuck… M’ gonna fuck this baby outta you, slut. Mmm sh…shit,” he bit his bottom lip and continued to thrust, turning it almost rhythmical. The sound of your husband's moans and dirty talk mixed with your whimpers filled the air, followed by loud plapping from your bodies. You needed this. You needed him to fuck you stupid and fuck you blind; Until you couldn’t breathe. You needed him so bad it hurt, and he needed you the same. He needed you so bad he couldn’t even put it into words to describe how badly he needed you. You were the one Toji was going to spend the rest of his life with of course he fucking loved you. And god he was already close to cumming.

Just seeing his very pregnant wife underneath him, with your breasts full of milk and bouncing, sent him over the edge. Spurts of thick cum shot out of his tip and coated your insides perfectly in white. But of course he couldn’t stop, he needed you to release your sweet water all over him if it was the last thing he’d ever do. You gasped and clamped a hand over your mouth, trying to silence whatever nonsense was gonna come out. But it was too late. You were fucked dumb.

“F-fuck baby… mm- sh-shit.. Mm hah.. F-f… mm … fuck me… c-c mm c-cum in me,” you whined, squeezing your eyes shut from the immense pleasure. He was hitting your g-spot and fucking it raw. You could feel yourself becoming close but it still wasn’t enough. You needed to cum so badly and you needed to cum with him. You needed to see him bite his lip to hide the pleasure-filled face he was going to make as he came again. So slowly your eyes fluttered open and you watched him through a hazy veil of lust.

Toji thrust himself into you as if there was no tomorrow. Since truly, he’d never get a pleasure like this again, unless you two planned on a second kid. He took in your chubby form and your fat belly, filled with his forming seed. He took in your face contorted with pleasure, staring at him with the biggest fuck me eyes he’d ever seen. And he came again. So quickly after cumming the first time it hurt. He gasped and leaned forward, groaning sweet nonsense as he fucked you roughly through your high. With the sensation of being filled up again you came, feeling a sweet release from your insides wash over your body. But your water hadn’t broken yet, so Toji wasn’t nearing his thrusting any time soon.

“I’m gonna make you … you pregnant mm again,” he groaned, throwing his head back as he pounded into your swollen cunt. You bit your lip and nodded, feeling tears springing to the corners of your eyes. God, it was too much, and you felt a big release pulsating through your vagina. You felt something coming and you hoped it was gonna come soon. Everything, every inch of your body was on fire. You needed to cum so badly to the point where it stung and throbbed.

“T-Toji…” You gasped, running a hand through your hair only to grab onto the pillow behind you, “I’m… mm f-f… mmm fuck,” you looked up to the ceiling, feeling your body twitch and convulse below you. The best kind of orgasms were the kind where you couldn’t control your body, and you knew it was building to it.

“Yeah, cum. Fucking… cum,” Toji moaned, feeling himself on the verge of cumming again just by seeing you so overstimulated. The tears coming from your eyes and the way you cried for an orgasm to happen made him so aroused it was insane. You two needed to have sex like this more often… he’d never felt such pleasure in his life before. Yeah, your sex life was good, but this was great. Seeing you so broken and seeing you fucked stupid was something he never knew he needed.

Then it happened. You felt a weird sensation build and then release in between your legs, followed by such an intense pleasure you almost felt faint. It rushed through your core and into your brain, causing a momentary lapse in your system. You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t move. Yet at the same time, you were gulping down air and grinding against your husband's throbbing cock. You came, squirting down his length and crying out in a way you never had before. And your water broke, seeping through your legs and releasing in a pleasurable way you’d never experienced before. It was a different kind of feeling. A huge release followed by an even bigger sensation building up inside of you.

Toji came at the sight of you losing full control, and he whimpered at the sight of you squirting on him. The guys a bit stupid so he couldn’t tell if it was squirt or the water … either way, he was horny and happy. He thrust a few more times into your battered pussy as you came down from your loud high. He looked down at the mess you two had made on your freshly made white sheets, then he looked at you.

“Do you … have the baby bag ready?” You mumbled, looking up at the ceiling with a hazy expression. Oh yeah, you were completely out of it.

“Yeah, why?” Toji asked, pulling himself out of you and groaning at the pleasurable yet sensitive sensation.

“T… Toji. My water just broke,” you glanced at him and blinked a few times.

“Yeah I know,” he rolled his eyes before stopping, “Oh. Shit.”

#jujutsu kaisen toji #toji zenin #jjk toji #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji smut #toji x you #fushiguro toji #fushiguro #toji fushigro x reader #jjk fushiguro #zenin #smut #x reader smut #x reader #garfunklefield writing

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actually-safer-to-kiss · 1 year

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Dinner Time

Summary: Reader makes Spencer his first homemade dinner after getting out of prison, and they both realize he's got some adjusting to do.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Hurt/Comfort

Content warnings: Eating, mentions of weight loss, hurt Spencer, ambiguous ending

Word count: 1k

Spencer sat at the small table in your kitchen. You set it up with funky-patterned napkins, an extra big spoon, and a used candle lit in the middle; the whole shebang. You prepared his serving of your vegetable soup, the meal he requested to celebrate his arrival home. “Are you comfortable?” You ask as you hover over the stove.

He nods and picks up his napkin, observing the pattern and weight. “Where did you get these?”

“Your mom found them when we were shopping. She said they reminded her of your socks. Isn’t that sweet?”

He blew air through his nose before saying “Wow.” He rubbed his thumb along it, following the vivid stripes. You didn’t want to tell him how she teared up when she spotted them. How she held the set close to her chest made you feel sorry that she remembered without help.

“She took it as a sign you were coming home.” Half true. More like you convinced her it was. She asked you to buy them for that reason, to celebrate. “And now here we are.” You beamed as you say the words.

“That’s wonderful.” He looked up at you and smiled. You saw it in your peripheral as you opened a pack of oyster crackers. You knew he wanted to thank you for making time for her. He wanted to, but you insisted the thank yous were enough after he said it the fifth time in 24 hours. You flashed him a brief grin as a muted response, and he appreciated it.

“Alright,” You held the bowl carefully, mistakenly filling it to the brim. Due to the sheer joy of having him home, safe, and innocent (in the eyes of the law), you almost didn’t notice he had lost weight. The first time you saw his spine after getting out of the shower, you didn't even think it was possible for him. “Extra potatoes, per your request, mon amour.” You emphasize your terrible French accent which makes him chuckle.

“Merci, mon amour.” His flawless accent almost ruined the joke.

“Okay, show off, so happy you're home.” You sneered, and his smile was even wider. You grab your own bowl and sit by his side. His elbows somehow naturally find their way to the table, boxing in his soup like he was cornering prey. Spoon in hand, he dipped in the hefty bowl. Then he shoveled in some of those extra potato chunks with some tomato-y broth. Hungry, you thought, as he leaned over the bowl, steam gliding over his rough stubble. He took a second and third bite, despite his mouth being nearly stuffed.

You didn’t say anything at first. You didn’t want to imagine the food he had to eat or meals he might have skipped because of poor quality (or other reasons). As he chewed hastily, for a moment, it gave you hope he'd gain weight quickly.

But then he reached out for his water to drink like he needed to soothe something too spicy.

Or something too hot.

“Honey?”

Bite four, five, and six. He chewed.

“Spencer.”

“Hm?” Bite seven, eight —

You put a hand on his arm and Spencer’s head immediately turned to you. It made you pull back, not touch him. His face was red and his mouth hung open, similar to a dog sticking its tongue out to cool off. “Spencer. You can let it cool.”

He swallowed, not chewing enough, and it pained him. “I can’t. I want to finish before bed.” His tongue barely touched the roof of his mouth as he spoke.

“Are you that tired?”

“No.” His eyebrows furrowed at the question, looking just as confused as you. “We only have 30 minutes for dinn—” And somehow his face of realization was even more upsetting to witness. There's a silence, brief but heavy as his whole face fell and he covered his eyes with one hand. “I’m sorry.” He sniffles.

“It’s not your fault.”

"I'll… take my time." He leans on his elbow and looks down at his meal, staring, waiting for the steam to stop. It was seconds later that his eyes were lined with tears again.

You were afraid to ask the question. “How’s your mouth?”

“It hurts.” He bites his lip as tears trickle.

You drop your spoon and scoot your chair closer to his. You ask him to sit up straight and drink water. Once he’s done that, drinking as much (or as little) as he can tolerate, you gently press his face into your shoulder. Tears collect on your skin, but you keep him close and encourage him to let it out.

And he does. His chest caves with every sob he's locked away for two months. His arms wrap around your waist, the first time he's touched you since he’s been home, apart from the delightfully suffocating hug you trapped each other in when he was released. And for a moment, you’re hit with the reality that the Spencer you’re holding has changed. His survival instincts are still active, you're just now noticing it.

You still hold him as he heaves. You rub his back to let him know you’re still here, but you stare at the blank wall in front of you. Your head is spinning, running through therapists to call and books to read that could help you. To help Spencer. Because that’s what he needs.

Spencer pulls away for a minute to look over his soup.

“It’s still there.” You say, and wipe his tears with your thumbs. “No one’s taking it, I promise.”

“It’s going to get cold.”

“I’ll heat it up again, don’t worry.”

Spencer looks down at you as you hold his face. The dark circles around his reddened eyes were prominent, and you brushed the mess of curls off his forehead. Tiredness isn’t enough. He’s scared. From what he’s seen or become, you don’t know. But his stubble pokes your skin and you realize that you don’t know what to do. As you look at the man you love, you wonder how much you can do to help. You hope you can help.

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lua-magic · 7 months

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North Node in Various houses and your Soul Desires.

North Node in First House:

There is something unique about your personality and your body. You always love to dress differently like colour your hairs really bright or wear bright coloured clothes. You don’t fit in the crowd. It could also give some rare kind of disese, weight gain or you could suffer from frequent body disease.

North Node in Second House:

North is exalted here. You are lucky in terms of finances and family wealth. You love spicy foods. There is something unique about the way you speak, whatever, you speak becomes true but you also share love and hate relationship with your family. Your family has frequent fights and you often find yourself cursing and abusing them.

North Node in Third House:

North Node is exalted here. You are free spirited and extremely courageous and risk taker. You might be having frequent fights with your siblings or neighbour. You might develop anger issues, you playful and prankster as well.

North Node in Fourth House:

You have karmic relationship with your family and mother. There is something unique about the place you live. It could creepy, haunted or even unevenly big. You could develop mental issues like anxiety, depression and OCD.

Your mother could also suffer some kind of mental health issues. This combination could sometimes gets you huge mansion or create desire to live in big house.

North Node in Fifth house:

This combination could inflate your ego, sometimes makes you lustful angry and corrupt. Not good combination for your children as you could have lot of expectations from them. It could make you fame, name and position hungry.

North Node in sixth House:

North Node is exalted here. It gives you fighting spirit; you don’t leave your enemy and fight with them till you destroy them. This combination could give you lots of enemy and court cases as well as debt, but you don’t give up easily and love challenges.

North Node in seventh House:

Your relationships and partnerships are mostly karmic, you experience lot of heart breaks. You are extremely frank and upfront about your relationship and with your partner. This combination also gives you multiple partner and affairs.

You easily attract opposite sex and get attracted to them as well easily. You are romantic and have high sexual energy.

North Node in eight House:

You have good intuition and deep interest in occult and witchcrafts. There are chances either you put some kind or hex or spell on someone or suffer from evil eye.

You have high sex drive or desire, and good premonition ability.

There are chances you could easily attract spirits towards you and store lot of emotions inside which could sometimes block your mind and visions.

North Node in Ninth house:

You go on short travel lot, not a good combination for your father as his health or work could suffer.

You may be attracted towards two to three religions at the same time; you usually don’t get right or correct advice and has bitter relationship with your teachers.

You might leave your religion and embrace some other religion or become atheist. There are chances you marry outside your religion or country.

You’re spiritual but not religious.

North Node in Tenth House:

North Node is exalted here.

It makes your multitalented and multi tasker, but you have problem with finishing your tasks. You sometimes take more on your plate then you can handle.

You will have problem with your bosses and jobs. You love to try different projects and try different things.

North Node in Eleventh House:

North Node is exalted here:

It gives a lot of desires and gains as well. You should be careful with your friends and family as they might try to spoil your name and reputation and could be jealous of your success as well.

North Node in twelfth house:

It will give foreign travel, foreign land settlement, and gives you ability to astral travel. You have good intuition and sometimes, could sense or see the negative events in your life before it occurs. This combination either will make you lazy or give you disturbed sleep.

You have wild sexual fantasies and high desires to reach on top or for expansion.

You like to store things and don’t give them easily to others. You have problem with letting go your emotions easily.

You hold on things and people and has karmic relationships with your spouse and family.

You get Déjà and lucid dreams.

You are more spiritual then religious. You attract spirit and other worldly beings easily towards you. You have interest in conspiracy theories and occult.

Please support me on.

#spirituality #astrology #astro community #astro observations #astro notes #occult

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lazyjellyfish300 · 3 months

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Mom and Dad Are Fighting On Valentine's Day 💌

Miguel O'Hara x Fem wife reader

Synopsis: same universe as Mom and Dad Are Fighting On Christmas. You and Miguel are married with three kids: Gabi(his), Marcus(yours), and Anthony(you two had him together). He falls back into his workaholic patterns and you two have a big fight that nearly ruins your big Valentine's Day plans. Word count 5.2k

A/N: My last piece for my Valentine's Day special! I just love this man so much lol. Enjoy! Here's the first one I posted for V Day (this fic is completely unrelated to this one)

TW: MINORS DNI, SMUT AT THE END (P IN V, FINGERING, CREAMPIE, ORAL F RECEIVING BUT DOESN'T GO INTO TOO MUCH DETAIL, BREEDING,) FAMILY PLANNING, TALKS OF DEPRESSION, TALK OF ABUSE, ANGST, MARRIAGE TROUBLES, JEALOUSY, INSECURITY, MAYBE ALLUDES TO POSTPARTUM DEPRESSION, MENTION OF TRADITIONAL GENDER ROLES, OC SIBLINGS TO GABI, OC OF YOUR (READER'S) MOTHER. The OCS HAVE PRETTY MUCH LITTLE TO NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION, READER'S MOTHER HAS NONE WHATSOEVER. ANTHONY FAVORS MIGUEL MORE IN TERMS OF LOOKS, THIS IS MORE DISCUSSED IN THE CHRISTMAS FIC BEFORE THIS.

-----

It was February 1st and one of the first nights you and your husband actually went to bed at the same time in weeks.

"Let's make a baby this Valentine's Day..." Miguel whispered as his large hand snaked under your arm to cup your breast. Your eyes fluttered, your phone slipped onto the ground, the spicy fanfic you were reading temporarily forgotten. You rolled your hips forward at his touch and panted softly.

"What...?"

"Hmmm....? ¿Quieres un otro niño conmigo, mi amor? (You want another child with me, my love?) He started laying hungry kisses on your neck, his breathing becoming more heavy and hot against your ear, which made you bite your lip. "We can have someone watch the kids...I'll take the day after off so we can have all night and everything..."

"Honey... the baby would be born in November?"

"Mhmmm..." Miguel was too busy caressing your now erect nipples and moving a hand to your crotch to really focus on your conversation.

"They'd be a Scorpio."

Miguel pulls back with an amused look on his face

"Baby...be serious. That's what you're worried about?"

You shrug. "I mean..."

Miguel scoffed and grabbed your breasts again. "I don't care when they're born...just want another little one running around...has your cute nose and everything..." His lips graze upwards on your neck until they come to rest on your jaw. "¿Qué dices?" (What do you say) he murmurs against your skin.

Your mind rushes with all kinds of thoughts. Anthony was quickly approaching his third birthday. You and Miguel had discussed adding just one more O'Hara to the family multiple times. It seemed like good timing. You missed the tender joy and even the sleep deprivation that a little baby brought with them.

You and Miguel had occasional quarrels over dividing housework here and there, but when it came to caring for the kids he was such a hands on father (when he wasn't going through one of his workaholic phases), that you didn't mind the extra labor a newborn demanded.

When people (rudely) asked you if you were done having kids, you couldn't give a firm no. One more child seemed like the perfect way to complete the family you and him built together. You were ready.

You look up at your husband, that irritatingly sexy smirk on his face as he gazes back down at you.

"Buy me dinner first?" You smirk back.

Miguel lets out a hearty chuckle, "I can handle that...I am a gentleman after all. Wouldn't want my pretty little wife thinking I have any ulterior motives..."

He leans down and you release more giggles as he blazes another trail of kisses between your breasts and down your stomach.

"You're impossible, O'Hara..."

----

The next morning, you two start your usual routine. You throw on your signature leggings and hoodie since you have three kids to wrangle, along with the morning carpool.

Miguel is rolling up his sleeves on his sweater as he leans over to plant a kiss on Gabi's and Marcus's heads as they scarf down their Fruit Loops cereal. He has to chase down little Anthony for a minute, and Anthony squeals as Miguel plants a goodbye kiss on his small chubby cheeks that are smeared with banana puree.

"Bye, baby..." Miguel gives your booty what he thought was a discreet love squeeze along with a peck on the lips, much to Gabi's chagrin.

"Gross!"

Miguel grins and opens the door to the garage.

"Mmm- don't forget! Gabi has her book report presentation at 2 pm today!" You call after him.

Shit... Miguel remembers. That's going to be a tough one to squeeze in his already stuffed schedule. "Okay, I'll see what I can do!"

You groan silently to yourself. You knew him well enough to know there was a 99% chance he wasn't coming based on that response alone. You plaster on a fake smile and try to shrug off your worry for the kids' sake. "Alright munchkins, the magic school express is leaving for school, pronto!"

----

After dropping off Gabi, Marcus and two of the neighbors' kids at school, you drop Anthony off at your mother's for some quality time while you catch up on housework. Or at least some of the housework because you end up showering and taking a 3 hour nap. The demands of the past week finally caught up to you. You groggily shut off the alarm on your phone. The clock said noon.

You text your husband, "Are you going to make it to Gabi's presentation?"

No answer.

But, that was typical. Miguel could get quite busy at HQ and not respond for hours. Still, you kept your hopes up that this time he'd make an honest effort to be there to support Gabi.

After lunch, you go back to your mother's and visit for a bit, then you and little Anthony head over to the school for Gabi's presentation promptly at 2 pm.

Gabi breaks out into a smile when she sees you and her baby brother enter the classroom. "Sissyyy!" Anthony babbles, waving his chunky arm.

Gabi runs to the back of the class and picks up little Anthony to give him a squeeze hello, he giggles furiously, kicking his dangling feet as she spins him around. You give both kids a warm smile then take Anthony in your lap as Gabi walks to the front of the classroom.

She hesitates for a moment and her eyes dart from you and Anthony to the door, as though she was expecting someone else to walk through. You get a sinking feeling in your gut when you realize she's looking for her papa. Her face falls a little bit when the door remains closed and the class goes silent, waiting for her to begin. You look at Gabi and give her an encouraging nod, not letting any of the disappointment you're feeling make itself known on your face.

Gabi takes a deep breath and starts to give her book report presentation. You hug Anthony a little closer to your chest as you both sit and watch, silently vowing to "accidentally" forget to cook Miguel dinner tonight.

Unfortunately, that night you didn't even get the opportunity to bitch him out because he came home some time around 3 am the next morning only to have to roll out of bed 3 hours later to beat the morning rush hour.

All of the excitement and positive momentum you thought you and Miguel were building after his suggestion to spend Valentine's Day together starts to chip away, day after day. He comes home in the wee hours of the night, missing dinner, homework, and bedtime. The kids seem to notice. Marcus snaps at you as you struggle to help him with his science homework. "Daddy knows how to do this stuff! I want him to help me, not you!"

You try to act like that comment didn't sting and answer in a calm but shaky voice. "Daddy's at work. I'm doing my best to help you and I need you to speak to me in a kinder tone, please."

Marcus grunts in frustration, stomping upstairs and slamming his door.

And, to make things worse, he begins picking more fights with Gabi than usual. Doors get slammed and toys get thrown as early as 8 am when a dispute arises over who gets to pick which cartoon is playing on the TV.

In the evenings, you have to scream at the top of your lungs and separate them after they start kicking each other under the table while little Anthony wails because he hates what's being served for dinner. The night ends with everyone in tears and all three kids eventually sleeping in your bed because they're too upset to stay in their rooms.

Miguel winds up on the couch or doesn't even come home at all, leaving you with an uneasy feeling in your stomach with a painful side of resentment.

On Valentine's Day, you wake up and look over. Gabi, Marcus, and Anthony are all in a pile lying against each other on Miguel's side of the bed. It's 5 am. You slide out of bed, taking care not to disrupt your sleeping babies.

You walk quietly downstairs, a storm brewing in your chest, a seething monologue you plan to unleash on your careless husband asleep on the couch again. You had his favorite bourbon, new cologne, his favorite snacks, and some new socks that you were going to set out for him to wake up to. He could forget about all of that now. He didn't even bother to get you anything, or even climb into bed with all of you at least when he got home.

You were preparing to hold his feet to the fire and ask where the hell he's been, if he's remembered he even has a family, and, if his sorry ass doesn't start coming home at a reasonable time or even issue a nearly two weeks overdue apology to Gabi for letting her down, that he can scrap your Valentine's Day plans, cancel the hotel, and you'll return all his gifts back to the store. Things haven't been this bad since Christmas when you nearly got divorced.

But, he's not there. The couch is bare. He spent another complete day and night at work. Didn't even come home so he could be there for you on fucking Valentine's Day. At this point, you just feel like crying. Frustration reached its boiling point and threatens to bubble over. You check your phone, the last text you sent to him was last night at 5 pm.

"Making dinner. Marcus is struggling with his science homework again and got upset with me. Will you please come home at a reasonable time tonight so you can talk to him about it? Are we still on for tomorrow and letting my mom watch the kids?"

The message was opened and read at 7:45 pm with no response. You walk outside onto your porch and call him, pacing back and forth restlessly as the phone rings.

----

Miguel walks through a portal back into his office at HQ, Felicia Hardy and Ben Reilly in tow. Felicia and Ben are bantering back and forth as Miguel notices an incoming call from you. Miguel's eyes are bloodshot, not having had a blink of sleep in nearly 18 hours

"Someone's in troubleee," Felicia teases. Miguel tries to brush off the comment as he nervously answers and utters a loud "FUCK!" when he realizes what today is.

Deep down, Miguel knew he had been getting worse lately. Diving head first into his work, so adamant on protecting the multiverse that he made himself blind to your needs and the needs of his children, seemingly a purposeful self-sabatoge. It was something you both unpacked early on in your relationship for you to eventually discover he had a form of depression.

A lot of it could be traced back to all those times where he was a boy who grew up way too fast as he shielded Gabriel from the obvious abuse his step dad inflicted on their family. He would take his responsibilities almost a little too seriously, always needing to be the solution to every problem, even if it meant setting himself on fire, and to the detriment of anyone close to him.

You two also battled over the age old argument the majority of married couples faced: the disproportionate division of visible and invisible labor. This was no doubt something that was ingrained in both of you growing up as a pattern that you two were fighting to try and break: the woman handles everything related to the home and kids, the permanent project manager of the family with little to no emotional assistance from the man. Meanwhile , the man works full time and makes such a healthy living that he can sustain her and multiple kids on it at once. The only domestic tasks he should be concerned with are the lawn and any random repairs around the house.

You were very supportive of his mental health of course, but it was times like these where you just needed him home, needed to feel like you didn't have to weather this storm on your own. A very distinct part of the vows you made to each other on your wedding day.

Sometimes you found yourself crying at night or when a love song came on, asking yourself if marriage was really this hard, or if love and the ideas of it that got planted in your head from an early age were just things of fiction. Something you clearly weren't meant to experience. Hell, none of the women on your side of the family did. Your grandma had a shitty marriage but stayed, your mom and dad divorced, and your aunt couldn't make any of her three marriages work.

You hear Miguel answer and you exhale with relief. "Did you get my text?..."

Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose and nodded, "Yeah...Happy Valentine's Day... Lo siento, mi alma..."

(I'm sorry, my soul)

You cross your arms, his greeting and weak apology completely going over your head. "So, where the hell have you been? What have you been up to? I've said maybe 10 words to you in the past nearly two weeks. I've been doing this all by myself..." Your voice thickens and you begin to cry at last, "If you're hurting again you need to tell me..."

Miguel starts to interrupt you but you bulldoze over him, not letting him put out the fire that was lit underneath you. "I need you home. The kids need you home. I am not celebrating Valentine's Day with you in a hotel room tonight if you do not come home at a reasonable time this afternoon to see the kids before we need to drop them off at my mom's."

At that point, Ben makes Felicia giggle loudly in the background. The tone is flirtatious and breathy. The sound is awfully incriminating as it comes through on the other line. Miguel shoots a frantic, pissed off look in their direction.

Your heart does a death drop from your chest to your stomach as you hear it. The deep seated insecurity that always hung in the very back of your mind that liked to make unwelcome appearances, usually at the worst of times in your marriage. An unpleasant symptom of having a husband who was exceedingly physically attractive to practically anyone who laid eyes on him.

The fear he would eventually tire of you and leave you high and dry for someone else. Someone prettier. Someone younger. Someone who wasn't bogged down by responsibilities. Someone who hadn't shown him the worst of who they could be. Someone whose personality was more contagious than yours. Someone more intelligent and successful. Someone who was everything you weren't.

"Who the hell is that...?" you ask through clenched teeth.

Miguel's hand comes up, covering nearly his entire face as he weakly tries to defend himself. "That was....Felicia..."

Felicia. Of fucking course. Here we go again...You hadn't worried about her since the last argument you two had over Christmas when Miguel foolishly decided to throw it in your face that she was more pleasant to be around as a mindless way to hurt you in that moment.

The tiniest seed of insecurity planted that would cause you to spiral with overthinking whenever her name was mentioned, even when you knew she really had a thing for Ben and Miguel put in work to reassure you of the fact that you were still the sole apple of his eye. Miguel had probably just reset whatever progress you two made since then ten steps backwards.

He frantically tries to save himself on the phone but you're already checking out as we speak. "But Ben's here too! Ben's here, too! Babe! We were on Earth-5129, we've been stuck on missions that take all day. Their Sinister Six has been causing all sorts of problems. I'm not alone with anyone, baby, I swear to God. I just got carried away with work-"

"Oh, oh you got carried away alright..." Your tears are hot and salty streaks on your cheeks. "The kids and I will be staying at my mom's. Have fun on your little mission."

"Baby don't hang up I swear to God-..."

You hang up and set your phone down on the ground, crouching down so your head is in your hands and you're squatting in a near fetal position, not moving much except your shoulders gently shaking, causing you to try and rock in a soothing motion as you sob uncontrollably.

You cry and cry. You cry for yourself. You cry at the fact that you feel like a single married mother. You cry because you're frustrated you're not good enough at math to help Marcus with his homework. You cry at the memory of Gabi's disappointed, sad face when she had to give her presentation without her favorite person there to watch. You cry about your body and how you haven't felt beautiful lately, that unkind, irrational thought that perhaps if you were prettier, then Miguel would pay more attention.

You cry about not having enough time in the day to do the things you want to do and how motherhood literally has no breaks to just let you breathe. You cry about Miguel and how this marriage at times feels harder than it should be, wondering what happened to the man you married and just wanting him back.

After several minutes, you just sit and stare at the slightly overcast morning, the cold slowly announcing its presence, your emotions and stress had rendered you insensitive to its chill for most of the time you were out there. You tug your fingers into the sleeves of your pajamas and waddle back inside, pausing at the main floor bathroom. You make sure there is no evidence of tears before you get your kids ready for another day, determined to at least make their Valentine's Day magical even if yours was already off to a shit start. Emotions can wait, motherhood doesn't stop.

----

Later that night, Gabi and Marcus are passed out in the guest bedroom at your mom's, sugar high worn off once again, and little Anthony is snoozing peacefully in your mom's lap. She quietly rocks him in the recliner in her living room, her nose buried in a book.

She hears Miguel enter quietly, and she looks up. Disapproval obvious in her expression as she bookmarks her spot.

You didn't tell her you and Miguel were fighting, but she knows her daughter well enough to know something was wrong, and he was the cause.

Miguel greets her in a hushed tone so as to not wake Anthony. "Thank you for watching the kids tonight..."

Your mom acknowledges with a curt nod of her head. Miguel sits down. Before he can speak, your mom interrupts. "She's at the hotel..." She pauses, letting Miguel absorb the information. "She wouldn't tell me the truth, but I know my daughter well enough to know she's hurt."

Miguel takes a deep breath, running his fingers through his hair. "Yeah... I messed up big time."

Your mom continues, "All the kids are asleep. If I were you, I'd go fix it..." She takes a deep breath of her own, Anthony stirs a little. "I love you like a son, Miguel. But, I'm gonna say this nicely: you work too much. One day, before you know it, these sweet kids are gonna be all grown up, and you and your wife won't even know what to talk about anymore because you never made your marriage a priority."

Miguel nods slowly, taking in her words.

"Don't become strangers in your marriage like I did." Your mom says, looking sincerely into Miguel's eyes. It clicks for Miguel at last, and he knows what he needs to do. He just prays that you'll even let him get close enough to let you hear him out.

Miguel gives your mom a warm smile of appreciation and a stroke to Anthony's hair before he ventures out into the February air, off to go win your heart back once again.

----

You're curled up in the king sized bed in the executive suite of one of the fanciest hotels nearby. You and Miguel stayed there the night before you eloped, and it was your first time staying there since. You would have cancelled the room altogether, but it was too late by the time Miguel messed up, so you figured you'd enjoy it, even if you had to do it alone, dammit. If you were going to cry, then at least you'd be doing it while wearing the hotel's fancy bathrobe on the top floor with chocolate covered strawberries and champagne.

You popped one in your mouth to try and distract from your tears that threatened to leak once again as you watched Letters to Juliet on the flat screen TV. You sniffed loudly, and there was a loud booming knock at the door.

You stayed right where you were, having a hunch it was your husband crawling back, biting another chocolate covered strawberry, this time chasing it with a longer sip of champagne.

The knocks get louder and you mutter a "shit" when you hear Miguel start calling your name, his fist relentless against the heavy oak door. You get up cautiously, creeping towards the knocking.

"Abre la puerta, cariño, por favor!!!" (Open the door, dear, please!) Miguel yells. "Stop doing this shit baby, I'M YOUR HUSBAND! TALK TO ME!"

The neighbors across the hall open up their door and start chastising him. Something about "keep it down people are trying to sleep", "this is the first night we've had away in MONTHS", "take your relationship problems outside", to which Miguel loudly hisses it's none of their goddamn business.

You open the door, yank your disheveled, tall ass husband into your room, and slam it in the face of the Karens. Problem solved. You huff and turn around, making your way back to your champagne throne, not saying a word.

Miguel makes a loud sigh, trying to settle from 100 back to 0. "Sweetheart, I'm sorry..." His brown locks are unkempt, a little bit of stubble peppers his chin. His crimson eyes are surrounded by little bloodshot lines. In his hands he has a slightly wilted bouquet of pink roses, one of the last bundles they had available at the grocery store, and in the other, a little pack of caramel Ghirdadellis being held by a tiny stuffed gray hippo.

You take the stuffed animal from Miguel with a neutral expression on your face. "He can stay," you wiggle the hippo in your hand. "But you can't. "

Miguel groans. "Baby, NOTHING happened. I swear on our children."

You raise an eyebrow at the bold statement. "On our children?"

Miguel sits on the edge of the bed, pulling at the hem of your bathrobe. "If I'm lying, let God Himself strike me down where I stand."

"You're sitting," you murmur, unable to resist. Miguel gives an exhausted gasp of laughter.

"You know what I mean..." He says, trying to steer the conversation back on target. "I would NEVER do that to you in a million years. I was an ass, I know. I've been taking too much time at work and I neglected you. I neglected the kids..." He sighs and leans into your chest. You silently wrap your hands around his head, pressing him into you.

Miguel closes his eyes, taking a deep smell of your scent. All of his stress seemingly being tugged out of his head with every moment he stays squished against your heart. He tries to explain, "Ben and Felicia were laughing, that's what you heard on the phone..."

You take a steady intake of breath. "Miguel..."

"Te lo prometo...." (I promise you) He says earnestly, looking up into your eyes from where he's still sitting on the edge of the bed. "Te lo prometo" (I promise you) he repeats for emphasis this time, his voice reducing to a whisper, crimson eyes wide as though his pupils could pull you in and make you see the truth.

"You don't need to explain yourself..." You say, bringing your hands to cup his face. His eyes fluttered closed and he leans into them. When he reopens them, a thin layer of tears is evident.

When Miguel cries, you can't help but cry also. You press your tongue against the back of your teeth, and go back to playing with his hair instead to hold them at bay. "How'd we get like this, baby?..."

That sentence utterly breaks his heart because he's all too aware of his role he's played in being a strain on your marriage by now. This was unlike you two. He's unable to speak but a million thoughts sprint through his head. Life happened. We stopped making each other the priority. Yes, the kids' needs would ultimately trump everything else while they were still very young, but when was it going to be your time again? Instead of going back to the way things were, you'd have to get to know each other again.

Meeting yourselves again as the new people you evolved into, reunited over those tender words you promised each other on wrinkled paper you stole from a printer in a cramped city office building nearly 5 years ago. Your lovely face bore a jittery smile underneath your department store veil, Miguel's expression tender as though he could power a city from the affection on his face alone.

Now, on this late Valentine's Day night , he beckons you to sit next to him, which you do. He lays you backwards, following you and propping himself on his elbow. The shift causes one tear to escape, creeping into your hair. You sniffle, and Miguel looks at you with concern. "Life got in the way again...it's not your fault. It's mine..." He admits shamefully.

You stare at the ceiling, more tears trickling into your hair before you look at Miguel. "Why'd you marry me?"

Miguel gives you a soft smile and answers in a hushed tone. "I decided one day that I didn't want to be without you." He pauses and his smile disappears momentarily, then creeps back up again. "Do you still wanna be without me right now?"

You shake your head. "No...I was mad. But that doesn't mean I really want you to go. I've just missed you, baby... *sigh*.....can we end the night together?"

Miguel's expression liquefies, "Course we can...and tomorrow too, right?" He scoops you even closer. We'll take our time, maybe get breakfast at that diner you love? Take you shopping?...I got a lot to make up for," he chuckles.

You hum, bringing your fingertips against his broad back. "Yes please." You let yourself drown in his hug for several moments, then you say, "We really need to stop fighting and making up on all the major holidays. Hallmark is going to catch wind of it and make a film adaptation, just watch."

Miguel beams, a light snicker from his chest vibrates against your body. "Haha...you're right, baby. Can't keep letting them get away with it..." His hand moves to grip your ass. "I'll wait til St. Patrick's Day to act up instead..."

"Babe. No."

"I'm kidding!"

"No, just, no," you shake your head, trying to wiggle out of his grasp but he holds you firmly down, both hands moving under your robe.

"You're right, my apologies, Mrs...." he croons.

"O'Hara. That's Mrs. O'Hara to you." You prod the tip of his nose.

"Mmm..."

Miguel kisses the sides of your neck, his lips still contain the tiniest bit of chill from the outside. You sigh into it, your sweet sounds of surrender tickling his ears, evolving into a wave of warmth that covers every inch of him, making him tremble for what's happening next.

"Mrs.... O'Hara..." At the sound of his name, he slides two fingers into your pussy. Your lips fall open at the intrusion, a whine bouncing off the walls.

"Shh...." Miguel soothes, his fingers start moving in a circular pattern.

"Fffuck...," your back arches, encouraging him to go deeper. You've reached the point where you're completely vulnerable. Falling apart to your husband's sweet thick fingers.

Miguel kisses the top of your breasts, still coaxing the walls of your pussy. "There she is..."

"I love you so much..." you whine, almost desperate.

His eyes are completely intoxicated by the utter desire leaking out of your body and into his hand. "I love you, sweetheart..." his voice barely above a whisper, as though any noise that escaped him threatened to rip you out of the haze of pleasure you both were currently drowning in.

You lift your chin, capturing his lips in yours. Soft and wet, they move seamlessly as they had nearly thousands of times before. A familiar song and dance you two engaged in, yet seemed to take you to a place that felt brand new each time you did.

"Make love to me..." your murmur buzzes softly against his lips, leaving his breath hanging hot and heavy.

Miguel answers by making his kisses a little harder. Lingering for a second longer, his tongue weaving a little deeper, leaving yours burning for more contact. A steady stream that turned into a faucet. Every bit of you yearns for him. This man you loved so much. And he yearns for the same in return. He'd happily give into you any time.

He praises you as you take his cock. Your eyes closing momentarily to accommodate his size. He traces your lips, letting the bottom one drag down just a little, leaving an opening for his thumb. You suck it greedily, the callouses of his thumb massaging against the ridges of your tongue. You moan as you taste his skin, earning a low grunt from him in return.

"Mi luz(My light).....so, so gorgeous..."

The corners of your lips curve into a smirk as you continue, but you release it when Miguel begins thrusting harder.

"Shit...." Your head presses back against the pillows and Miguel leans closer to you, his soft breaths fanning you, his fingers combing over your hairline as he holds you in place.

"Swear your pussy drives me insane no matter how many times we've fucked..." Miguel groans in a low voice.

You wind your thighs tighter around him, your body on the verge of overstimulation. "Cum in me ... remember? Wanna give you another baby..."

Miguel lets out a moan louder in volume than any of the previous ones. "¿En serio, amor?" (Seriously, love?)

"Please....."

Your bodies intertwined in a knot of passion as he fills you completely with his cum. You hold him tight, intimate moments like these that only the two people occupying the bed would remember. The raw, dirty memory of the night you hopefully conceived your last child with him.

He stays buried inside you, not ready to separate just yet. Letting the afterglow of the passion wash over you both for several more moments.

Soon after, you're enjoying the steam of the shower as you and Miguel take turns washing another, the smacks of your lips together echoing off the tile leading to a wet slap as your hand comes up to steady yourself against the wall as Miguel dives between your thighs once again.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Mrs. O'Hara..."

----

🥰🥺

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bradshawssugarbaby · 1 month

Text

Got My Mind Set On You - Jake Seresin x Reader

A/N: I know I said fluff, but somehow I got to spicy stuff instead. Oops.

pairing: Jake Seresin x reader

content/warnings: suggested smut.

word count: 1.7k

Jake Seresin leaned casually against the rustic exposed wooden beam of the dimly lit bar, his gaze fixed on you as you shared a moment of laughter with your friends across the room. With the air of someone who knew they were being watched, he flicked another dart effortlessly towards the board, the satisfying thud of it hitting the bullseye punctuating the room. He took a slow sip of his beer, the corner of his lips curling into a self-assured smirk as his friends marveled at his accuracy.

Javy couldn't help but prod at Jake's seemingly supernatural dart-throwing abilities. "How do you do it, man? You never even look at the board."

Jake chuckled, tapping the side of his temple with his index finger. "Photographic memory, my friend. I've got every angle mapped out up here," he said with a grin, never once breaking his gaze from you.

Bradley, ever the skeptic, scoffed from the sidelines. "Oh, please. Anyone can get lucky tossing darts at a board."

A challenge hung heavy in the air as Jake raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. "Care to put that theory to the test, Bradshaw?"

Bradley, never one to back down, accepted with a lazy smirk. "Fine. But don't blame me if your girl decides she wants a more skilled pilot."

"Bring it on," Jake replied, his confidence unwavering.

With practiced ease, Bradley sent his first dart flying, hitting the bullseye just as he predicted. Jake's expression remained cool, but there was a flicker of admiration in his eyes as Bradley repeated the feat with his second shot. Bullseye again.

Jake's smirk faltered slightly, but he quickly recovered, raising his pint glass towards the dartboard. "You can't do it a third time."

Bradley's competitive spirit flared as he confidently launched his final dart, only to miss the mark by a fraction of an inch. He turned to Jake, a hint of defiance in his eyes as he admitted defeat.

Jake couldn't resist a playful jab. "Not quite perfect, Bradley."

But any teasing was forgotten as you appeared beside him, your touch warm on his shoulder. "Hey there, sugar," Jake greeted you with a smile. "See me get a perfect streak?" Jake purposefully drawled out the word ‘perfect’, resulting in a dramatic eyeroll from Bradley.

Jake's smile softened as he wrapped an arm around you, his gaze never straying far from yours. You grinned as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, nodding your head as you spoke. “Sure did, honey. You did great!”, you gushed.

“I am great, darlin’, you know that.”

Bradley groaned and rolled his eyes before downing the rest of his beer. With an exaggerated sigh, he shook his head, holding his empty glass up to you and the others before speaking.

“Anyone down for another round? I’ll buy.”

You chuckled at Bradley's offer, exchanging knowing glances with Jake before nodding in agreement. "I could go for another," you said with a grin, feeling Jake's arm tighten slightly around your waist.

“Sure, thanks man,” Jake started, handing Bradley his empty glass, “After, why don’t we rematch? We can switch to the pool table, if you guys would rather, that way you might actually have a chance at beating me.”

Bradley scoffed and shook his head. “Fine, you’re on.”

Javy, always up for a good time, eagerly agreed. "I'm in. Let's see if lightning strikes twice for old Bradshaw here."

Bradley shot Javy a mock glare before laughing, his competitive streak undeterred. "We'll see about that," he retorted, already heading towards the bar to order everyone’s drinks.

As Bradley disappeared into the crowd, you leaned into Jake's side, relishing in the warmth of his presence. The soft buzz of conversation and clinking glasses enveloped you, creating a comforting backdrop to the evening.

"You know, I think Bradley's just jealous," you whispered teasingly, tilting your head up to meet Jake's gaze.

Jake chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he looked down at you. "Can you blame him?" he replied, his voice low and playful. "After all, he's got to compete with the best."

You rolled your eyes affectionately, swatting his chest playfully. "Smooth talker," you teased, but couldn't hide the smile that tugged at your lips.

“Besides all that, I’ve got the best girl, so really, poor Bradley didn’t stand a chance, did he?” Jake whispered as he leaned into your ear, his green eyes fixed on yours as he planted a soft kiss on your lips.

“The best girl, huh?” You mused, raising an eyebrow, “That’s a new one for me.”

“Mhmm,” Jake hummed as he gave you a playful tap on the nose with his index finger. “You better get used to it, honey.”

As you all rounded the pool table, gathering into your teams, Bradley furrowed his brow as he gestured to you and Jake as Jake kept you close to him for his team.

“Oh no you don’t loverboy.” Bradley chided, shaking his head, “She’s on my team. Together you two’ll just end up getting handsy on the pool table and make us all lose our lunch.”

“He’s got a point there, don’t he?” Jake shrugged as he conceded, letting go of his protective, loving grip on your waist.

You watched as Bradley lined up to take his shot. Observing his form carefully, you tried to make mental notes so you could match his game - you weren’t the greatest at pool, Jake usually used teaching you as an excuse to put his hands all over you, not that you complained. It just resulted in some incredibly short lessons in pool, and some playful sessions in the bed of his Ford F-150.

Bradley leaned in close to your ear, whispering softly as he came up with a game strategy. “How well can you accidentally distract Jake?”

“Oh, easy,” you responded with confidence, nodding your head slightly as your gaze fixated on Jake, who was lining his pool cue up for his turn.

“Perfect, do your thing.”

You sipped your cocktail and fiddled with the straw, your lips encircling the tip in a way that you knew Jake would interpret as suggestive. Sure enough, as soon as Jake looked up at you, sea-green eyes locked in a gaze at your mouth as it played with the end of your straw, he missed his shot, causing the cue ball to bounce off the edge of the table, not striking anything in its path. Jake straightened his posture, raising an eyebrow at you as you set your glass down to take your own shot. Bradley smirked from behind his beer bottle, admiring your technique for riling Jake up better than any amount of trash talk ever could.

During Jake’s next turn, you shoved your glass into Bradley’s open hand, before fiddling and unbuttoning the top two buttons of your plaid shirt, exposing just enough cleavage to have Jake’s mind wandering. Once again, as soon as Jake caught a glimpse of you, he missed his shot, shaking his head and grumbling to himself as Javy joked about him being off his game.

“I’m not off my game. Everyone has one off game.”

“Just admit it, Jake, you’re not as good at pool as they are. Bradley’s got you beat.”

Jake scoffed and rolled his eyes again, before leaning over to take his next shot, trying to follow up after you sink one of the balls into the pocket, eliciting a high-five and a cheer from Bradley. As the game progressed, Jake caught on to your little game. His cheeks blushed when you whispered what you wanted him to do to you later that evening, he had to clear his throat to cover the involuntary moan that threatened to escape his mouth when your hand caressed his bicep, and he had to position himself carefully behind the pool table while he tried to focus his mind on anything other than the mental image you put in his head when you described what kind of underwear you were wearing under your skirt.

After losing another round, Jake felt a simmering frustration bubbling beneath his skin, an insistent urge gnawing at him with every passing moment. He clenched his jaw, struggling to rein in the primal desires coursing through him. All he could think about was laying you down on the smooth surface of the pool table, indulging in the raw passion that pulsed between you. But he knew he couldn't act on those impulses, not here, not now.

Instead, he tossed the pool cue down with an uncharacteristic huff, the weight of his competitive nature hanging heavy in the air. His typically composed demeanor faltered, a rare glimpse of vulnerability flickering in his eyes as he turned away. You exchanged a knowing glance with Bradley, silently acknowledging the tension that hung between you all, before following Jake's retreating figure outside.

The night air enveloped you like a thick blanket as you stepped out of the dimly lit bar, the humidity clinging to your skin like a second layer. Concern etched across your features, you approached Jake cautiously, your footsteps echoing in the quiet night.

"Jake?" you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, as you closed the distance between you.

"Mhmm?" His response was gruff, his body tense as he leaned against the side of his truck, the muscles in his arms flexing beneath the fabric of his shirt.

"Are you alright?" you asked softly, furrowing your brow with worry. "I wasn’t trying to be a dick—Bradley and I just thought it’d be funny if I, you know, distracted you a little."

Jake chuckled, a hint of amusement glinting in his eyes as he turned to face you. "I'm not mad."

"You aren’t?" Relief flooded through you, easing the tension in your shoulders.

"Of course not," he reassured you, his gaze softening as he reached out to pull you into his embrace. "I mean, you got me good, I’ll give you that."

"I did?" A smile tugged at the corners of your lips, grateful for his understanding.

"Sure did, Sugar." Jake's smirk was equal parts wicked and enticing, sending a shiver down your spine.

"But now it’s my turn to get you back." His words hung in the air like a promise, igniting a fire in your veins as you met his gaze with a playful challenge of your own.

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