#Keep Your Wheels Straight...... god. god!!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nanaslutt · 7 months

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Ok but giving gojo road head and he feels so good he has to pull over in the nearest parking lot to properly enjoy it oh my god just imagine his head bent backwards and his mouth open eyes closed moaning I can’t I need to suck his cock honestly ❤️ and maybe like if ur feeling a tad bit silly he could be a head pusher in this one 😁😁😁teehee just maybe ONLY jf ur feeling silly nana mwah!

OH I LOVE THIS we’re getting straight into this oh em gee

contains: fem reader, oral(m!receiving), sensitive!gojo, sooooo much dirty talk, road head :p, manhandling, throat fucking, headpusher!gojo <3

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

Your hands were all over Gojo, trying to rip off his belt, unzip his pants, and get his cock out as quick as possible.

“Baby slow downn,” he laughed, “My cock ain’t goin anywhere,” He placed a big hand on top of your own while you tried to undo his belt.

“We’ll be home in 20 minutes, ‘s my girl that needy?” he smirked. You ignored his teasing, pushing his hand out of the way; making him giggle and submit, placing it back on the wheel with his other hand.

You had just finished going shopping together. Gojo needed a new designer suit for some fancy get together with the jujutsu higher ups soon, dragging you along with him.

You protested at first, not wanting to spend your day off suit shopping with gojo. You would much rather cuddle up with him on the couch, but you didn’t want to be alone, so you caved, letting him drag you along with him.

And god damn it if you weren’t glad you did. Tight fitting suit after suit being tried on, all tailored perfectly to his measurements, accentuating his big biceps and toned frame.

Watching him roll up his cuffs and fiddle with his jacket was making your mouth water. You were clenching your thighs as he smoothed his big hands down his chest, veiny hands coming up to tighten the tie on his neck.

“How do I look baby? Ya like this one?” He asked, completely unaware of how something so simple as him trying on suits made you want to devour him right this second.

He found out your true feelings later, bringing you back to the car as you finally undid his difficult zipper after struggling with it for a while, reaching your smaller hands into his pants to pull his semi-hard cock out.

“You got this worked up while I was playin dress up? So dirtyy~,” he teased, biting his lip and smirking while you stroked his length in your warm hands, getting him fully erect.

“Satoru,” you said sternly, leaning your body over the center console and placing your mouth inches from his cock, “shut. up.” The second your words were out his cock was filling up your mouth, quickly falling into a rhythm as you bobbed your head up and down on his cock, making his hips jolt up into your mouth when he drove over a bump, making you gag.

“Ahh- A-hh shittt baby,” Satoru groned, eyes fluttering as he tried to keep his focus on the road, occasionally dropping his gaze to watch the show you were putting on for him.

He dropped a heavy hand on your head, pushing down slightly, making you wince as it hit the back of your throat, “Thought you wanted my cock so bad huh? Cant take it?” he smirked, relishing in the feeling of you swallowing around him, trying to hold back your gags.

Your hand came up to place it on top of his challengingly, pushing his hand down against you. “Oh yeah?” he smirked. Gojo’s fingers curled into your hair as leverage as he started bobbing your mouth up and down on him like a cock sleeve.

“Such a thirsty girl- fuckkk- such a tight fucking throat.” He was trying his best to keep the acceleration of the car at one speed, his legs jerking and jolting every so often when he felt his tip hit the back of your throat, making his driving a little sketchy.

The vibrations from your moans combined with the tightness of your throat as you choked around him was going straight to his balls, “Gonna make me c-crash the fuckin car holy shiiiiit,” he whined, jaw dropping as moans repeatedly fell from his tongue.

Gojo couldn’t take this for much longer, he yanked you back from his dick, popping your mouth off of him with a wet sound as you coughed and sputtered in the air, hand immediately coming down to stroke him still.

“Gotta pull over, ‘s too fuckin much” he said out of breath, face red and heart beating out of his chest as he took the next exit the freeway provided.

His abs were clenching, back coming off from the back of his seat as you rubbed your thumb on the underside of his cock, right under his head, “Babyyyy, killin me, h-hold on just hold on please,” he wined, his big hand coming down to grip your wrist tight as he frantically searched for a semi secluded place to pull over.

Once he found a nice gravel patch off the side of the road covered decently with thick trees he turned the wheel a little too hard to the side, car rocking the both of you as you settled into the spot.

Gojo quickly put the car into park and flipping his hazards on before he brought you back down onto his cock, “All yours baby, take my fucking dick,” he groaned.

Your lips immediately came to suckle on his tip, before sliding down the length of his cock again. This time he just let his hand rest on your head, slightly pushing down on the downstroke.

His head was tipped back against the seat as loud groans and wines spilled from his slack jaw, “goddd baby that feels so good-“ he choked out, running his hands through your hair.

His abs clench when you swallow around him, moans being cut off with a gag when his dick reached too deep in your throat.

You pop your lips off his dick, rotating your wrist around him while while you jerk him off, “yeah? my throat feel good?” you moan, biting your lip while smiling up at him.

“Yes yes so fucking good pretty, so good” He smiled back at you. His big hand comes up to grip your neck, squeezing as he pulls you up to his mouth, “Don’t stop jerkin’ me off” He whispers before he crashes your lips together, moaning at the taste of himself on your tongue.

The kiss is so messy; whenever you twisted your twist around his wet tip his jaw would fall open, and his pretty blue eyes would roll back in his head.

“Fuuuuck, Im so close- fuck-“ He moaned into your mouth, gojo’s body jerking when you started pumping him more vigorously.

“Wanna cum d-down ur throat princess, cmon, why don’t you suck my dick again, huh?” His grip still hard on your neck as he gave it w squeeze to emphasize his need.

Gojo was trying his hardest to keep his composure, trying to stave off his orgasm long enough to at least feel your lips around him again, but your hand movements around his cock was making that task feel impossible.

You bit your lip and nodded, feeling his member start to pulse in your hand. He released your neck, letting you drop your head down to his cock again.

You started to kitten lick the tip softly, dipping your tongue into his leaky slit; but gojo was having none of that.

Without warning he shoved the entirety of his cock down your throat, bobbing your head up and down with his new grip on your hair, “Sorry baby, cant put up w-with your fuckin’ teasing when i’m this close” He smirked down at you, watching you struggle to take him.

You adjusted quickly, breathing through your nose so you wouldn’t choke, and focusing on sucking and rolling your tongue around him to get him to finish as fast as possible.

“Yesyesyes just like that fuck- right there-“ His grip tightened at his head fell back with a ‘thmp’ against the headrest when your tongue caressed a particularly sensitive spot on the underside of his dick.

You were paying special attention to the thick vein running along the underside of his cock, and it made him feel fucking dizzy. His head was spinning every time your mouth fully engulfed him.

You continued your ministrations, letting the massive man above you manhandle you; pulling and tugging at your hair for his own pleasure, and steadily bringing himself to his orgasm.

“I’m gonna cum babe, oh my godd” He let his chin fall back down, jaw slack and eyes heavy as he watched your mouth create a mess of spit all over his cock.

Spit strings connected from your chin to his abdomen and balls, the feeling of you moaning and gagging around him; it was all too much.

You felt his cock twitch before you tasted him; his heavy hand pushing you to the base of his dick as hot ropes of his cum shot down your throat.

You swallowed his cum up greedily, like it was the antidote for some poison to save your life. “Fu-uuuck yeahhh” he wined, biting his lip hard watching you try to keep up with his orgasm flooding your mouth, “Just-like-that- swallow it alllll,” he emphasized by thrusting his too sensitive dick into your mouth.

His whole body was buzzing, long legs shaking from the intensity of his orgasm, mind feeling like jello as the aftershocks ran through his body.

When the stimulation became too much for him; and right when your vision started to be covered in black dots from asphyxiation; he pulled you away from his dick.

Still holding your hair as your hand came down to rub at your throat, coughing and gasping for air in the process. “Show me.” he demanded.

Your foggy mind knew exactly what he meant; sticking out your tongue you showed him how you swallowed every last drop of his seed into your tummy, smiling when you put your tongue back in your mouth.

Gojo’s big hand came up to pat your cheek, releasing your hair and opting to grip your jaw in his hand, “Good fucking girl baby~” He cooed, smashing your faces together.

You felt his tongue dart inside your mouth, greedily licking around, trying to taste himself in your mouth.

He pulled away with a smirk, spit string connecting the two of you as he gave you a quick peck, “God i’m still fucking shaking haha” He laughed breathlessly, making you giggle.

Gojo stared into your eyes for a couple more seconds, biting his lip looking at the expanse of your face before his sighed, dropping his hold on your chin.

“Okaayyyy~” He sighed out, tucking himself back in his pants and buckling his seatbelt back up.

By this point you were positive you had drenched a spot through your panties, pants, and his car seat with how aroused you felt, so you felt ecstatic at his next words.

Putting on his blinker and pulling out into the street, his big hand came to rest on your thigh, patting it a couple times before speaking, “I’m gonna eat your pussy till your fucking crying when we get home as thanks for that.”

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ribbonprincess · 1 month

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🍯࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

note: road head (don't do that folks!) reader and Rafe refers to him as daddy,rafe is a head pusher.

You and Rafe are driving back home after a long afternoon of golfing,more like him as you were just admiring your boyfriend from the golf cart and sometimes giving him his club. He looked so hot with his white shirt and the few drops of sweat that you would occasionally see roll down the side of his face. So you do the only thing that seems right in your mind.

"Jesus,stop that- I'm driving,you're gonna make us crash!" Rafe's pushing your hand away from his crotch,making you whine as you put it back "please..wanna make you feel good rayray,I'll be quick! You just need to focus on the road,I'll be quick!"

Your boyfriend seems hesitant,looking at you before looking back at the road "okay...yeah,fine. Always need something in your mouth hm? Even while I'm driving." You're quick to undo his pants and pull the zipper down,pulling his dick out of his boxer and smiling widely before bending down to kitten lick at his tip. "thank you!" you mumble with your mouth full of him.

Rafe's eyes are stuck on the road as he tries to keep the steering wheel straight "jeez,what even got into you" one of his hands move to sit on top of your head,sighing shakily. "you just look so hot today,daddy- needed to have you." He nods to himself,pushing you down on his length "there you go...good girl" a small smirk creeps up on his face once he steals a quick glance down. Your eyes are glazed over,tears treating to spill over and ruin your mascara and he can see himself bulging into your cheek as you continue to work on him.

One of your hands cup his balls,massaging them softly making the man above you release a low growl "fuck, you're gonna get yourself in trouble princess. Behave" he says before pushing you completely down,your nose touching the small patch of nearly trimmed blonde hair "hm! Can't breathe rafey!" you whine immediately,coming back up for a quick breath.

"Hey,where are you going? back to work sweetie,cmon I'm close" you have no time to complain as he pushes you on him again,thrusting you into your mouth as best of his abilities "yeah...that's what I mean,nice and warm for me. Always taking me so well baby" your mascara Is now completely smudged all over your cheeks and under eye,making your lashes stick together uncomfortably. "help daddy out a bit baby" Rafe reminds you.

You're clenching your thighs together,moaning at the small friction you get "needy girl,sucking daddy's dick makes you horny?" he chuckles before giving you another small push "c'mon,I'll make you feel good later. Need you to focus on me"

Breathing through your nose you focus back on your work,pressing your tongue against one prominent vein that runs on the side of his dick before sucking on his tip,making him groan out loud. "fuck,yeah...'m so close sweetheart,so close" you look up at him,squeezing at his base with one hand while the other resume the work on his balls. Rafe grunts one more time before he's filling your mouth with sweet and sticky cum,making you close your eyes to enjoy the moment before pulling off him and smiling. "god...are you happy now?can't believe you just did that" He mumbles,tucking himself back in his pants with a low hiss from oversensitivity "yeah!I am,thank you rayray!" pressing your lips to his cheek you leave a sticky stain behind before settling into your seat like nothing ever happened "jeez,'m dating a freak."

#🎀princess #outer banks x reader #outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks smut #outer banks imagine #outer banks blurb #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron thoughts #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron brainrot #rafe cameron blurb

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baby-yongbok · 4 months

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A Ride & A Show

Uber Driver!Hyunjin x Fem!Reader

✧Genre - Smut ✧Warnings: Unprotected piv (Wrap it up ya'll) ✧ Masterlist ✧

Uber Driver Hyunjin that was just about to stop driving for the night but decided to accept your ride anyway, one more ride couldn’t hurt.

Uber Driver Hyunjin who can’t stop staring at you as you approach his car, when you open the door and lean in asking if you’ve got the right car his eyes couldn’t help but to wander from your pretty brown orbs to your full breast. He knows that you saw him staring and he can’t find it in himself to feel sorry about it.

Uber Driver Hyunjin who doesn’t even attempt to start small talk with you in fear that he’ll make a fool out of himself. He just offers you a water bottle and turns up the radio, glancing into the rear view mirror every now and then and catching your alluring gaze.

Uber Driver Hyunjin who takes in every bit of your outfit in the reflection of the mirror when he stops at a red light. You look up right when his gaze lingers on the hem of your skirt as it rides up your thigh. His breath catches in his throat when you uncross your legs, your eyes stay on his until the green light catches his attention.

Uber Driver Hyunjin who’s knuckles turn ghost white as he grips the steering wheel, glancing between the semi-busy road and the way that your fingers are inching up your thighs, slowly revealing yourself to him. He nearly hits the car in front of him when his eyes catch on the glistening of your bare cunt.

Uber Driver Hyunjin who thanks the Gods that his dash cam is on when you start whimpering in the backseat, he can barely believe his eyes or ears when you run your fingers over your slick folds. Strained moans and whimpers filling the small space around the two of you and going straight to his cock.

Uber Driver Hyunjin who turns the music down almost all the way to hear your pretty sounds, he couldn’t give less of a fuck about keeping an eye on traffic as he adjusts the rearview mirror to get the perfect view of you as you dip your fingers into your leaking pussy. Your moans grow louder and more confident once he stops at another light. This time he turns in his seat, he’s desperate to get a closer look at your drooling cunt as it makes a mess on his seats.

Uber Driver Hyunjin who curses under his breath as you kick your shoes off and prop your leg up on the seat, displaying yourself to him. You look so pretty that he can’t help but to moan at the sight.

Uber Driver Hyunjin who sighs and reluctantly unlocks the doors when you reach your destination, hoping that you wont get out. You don't.

Uber Driver Hyunjin who ends the ride and sits in silence, watching as you continue to fuck yourself. He palms his hard cock through his jeans, hissing and whispering praises as your legs shake against the leather of his backseat.

Uber Driver Hyunjin who nearly loses his mind when he hears you moan his name. He popped the button of his jeans at the sound of it and hurried to lower his zipper when you whimpered for him, asking - no, begging - him to touch you.

Uber driver Hyunjin who doesn’t waste a second before he’s reaching into the backseat, the tips of his fingers brushing over your soaked cunt cautiously. He knows that he shouldn’t touch you, he knows that this isn’t part of his job but when he brushes over your clit and your breath catches in your throat so beautifully, a desperate cry escaping you, he climbs into the backseat without a second thought.

Uber Driver Hyunjin who fucks you dumb on his fingers as soon as he gets his hands on you. Your nimble fingers try their best to stroke his cock at the same pace but the way that he’s brushing against your g-spot leaves you with your head kicked back as you moan into the air, your fucked out eyes still never leave his.

Uber Driver Hyunjin who couldn’t go another second not having your lips on his. He kisses you hungrily, sucking your tongue and swallowing your moans before kneeling as far as he can to taste your other lips. As soon as his tongue laps over your swollen cunt you’re both groaning into the hot air. He laps at you desperately, cleaning you up then spitting your mess back onto your sloppy folds and watching it run down before fucking it back into you.

Uber Driver Hyunjin who swears that he could cry once you sink down onto his cock. The stretch of him is enough to have you seeing stars and your tight warmth makes every nerve in his body burn. You wanted to ride him but you only get to move once before he’s grabbing you, fucking up into your cunt and using you like a fleshlight.

Uber Driver Hyunjin who couldn’t give less of a fuck about how his car rocks and how fogged up his windows are while he’s double parked outside of your building. The way that your walls flutter around him is enough to have him forgetting his own name. When you tell him that you’re cumming he fucks you faster - rougher - just to hear you scream his name for him.

Uber Driver Hyunjin who empties his balls deep inside of you only minutes after you come undone around his thick cock. He fucks his cum into you, hissing at the overstimulation but you feel too good to let go of. He needs more. He wants more.

Uber Driver Hyunjin who kisses you sloppily, tongue exploring every inch of your mouth and running over your jaw line as you both come down from your earth shattering high. Faint chuckles are exchanged in the process. That’s the first time he sees you smile and now he knows he’s locked in.

Uber Driver Hyunjin who helps clean you up, slipping your shoes back on and fixing your skirt before he tucks his cock away.

Uber Driver Hyunjin who you left a 5 star review for and get to see again this Saturday night.

Note: Please drive safely and don't try to seduce your uber drivers (😭)

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gardengirl222 · 1 month

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thinking about rafe, topper, and kelce, helping to teach you how to drive….

you were about to be gifted a pretty new car for your birthday but you still didn’t know how to drive so the boys said they’d help teach you! you stood in the shade picking at your nails as the boys planned an easy enough route for you to practice on without hitting anything or anyone.

“can we get going pleaseee, you guys can trust me- i read a car manual once, i know how things work….”

“fine, we should be alright i guess…” rafe mumbles as he opens the drivers side car door for you to hop in, he sticks out his hand for you to grab to help you climb into his truck. with rafe in the passenger seat next you, top and kelce in the back you put on the seat belt and place your hands onto the steering wheel to wait for instructions.

“i can’t believe you are lettin' her use your car man.” kelce shakes his head with wide eyes

“it’s better than lettin’er practice in one of yours, mine the safest one if anything were to happen.” rafe turns his head back to you “j’us don’t crash…kay?”

“mmhm…how do i start?”

rafe, with his tendency to stress easily, guiding you through the basics of starting the car and adjusting the mirrors. his hands grip on the steering wheel as he instructs you like a child to put your foot on the brake pedal.

"kay, slow and steady now babydoll" rafe says, his voice stern yet soft, letting go of the wheel so you could try keeping it straight. "we don't want to accelerate too quickly, jus' easeee onto the gas...not too much!" you press down on the pedal with your foot as the car moves forward a few inches then breaks suddenly causing everyone in the car to jolt forward.

“jesus!!…” topper breathes out, both him and kelce then grip onto the handles on the inside roof of the car.

"oh god, i'm sorry!" you wince

“s’alright s’fine just try- try again…” topper encourages as you place your foot back on the gas pedal again

slowly you start to get the hang of it, cruising slowly down the street at a decent pace, everyone seems to be relaxed as you are gaining confidence behind the wheel. then your phone starts to ring, you look down to were you set it down near the cup-holders which causes you to lose a little control of where you are going and makes the car swerve slightly and speed up.

“EYES ON THE ROAD!” they all shout boyishly, panicked and clearly stressed. rafe’s hand flies out in front of you to emphasize its importance.

“that might be kie, can i get it?”

“NO!!!” they all shout again

“jeez, ohkay!”

kelce mutters little prayers under his breath "please, let us survive this.” you let out a nervous yelp when up ahead you see a squirrel just chilling in the middle of the road.

“what do i do!”

“JUST SLOW DOWN!” “EYES ON THE ROAD!” the boys shout overlapping their panicked voices, you scream and squeeze your eyes shut and turn your head away.

“NO HEY! DON’T CLOSE YOUR EYES WHAT ARE YOU CRAZY!?” rafe shouts all rambly

“ohkay!” you hit the breaks just before the squirrel scampers off up a tree.

“ALRIGHT OUT.” rafe commands, pushing his hair back out of his face, then unbuckling you. “I’m driving the way back, switch.”

as rafe gets out of the passenger seat and rounds the hood of the car to get into the driver seat as you climb over the armrests to get to your new seat.

“jesus kid…you know what?...you wanna go somewhere in your new car? call me and i’ll take you wherever you wanna go….s’dangerous havin' you out on the roads like this.” rafe huffs as he starts the car again.

“we almost died!” topper lets scoff almost in disbelief at how things took a turn.

“I got slightly distracted! wasn’my fault.”

i luvvvv the kook trio

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steddie-there · 1 year

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Steve is bitchy. It's a known fact. He's a reformed mean girl and bitch is like a second language to him. Whether it's scathing commentary about Family Video customers almost before they're out the door,

"So apparently it's national hit on someone young enough to be your granddaughter day, who knew we had such a gross holiday?"

snarky conversations with the kids,

"Well, whaddya know, Dustin, would you look at this?" "What? "It's the coke you said wasn't in the fridge! Isn't it amazing how it just magically appeared?" "Oh, shut up, Steve." "I'm just so completely in awe!"

or calling out the people that still give Eddie nasty looks (and doesn't that make Eddie's heart grow three sizes and threaten to pop out of his chest and burrow into Steve's?),

"You know, Carol, if you keep making that face, it might stick like that. But look on the bright side, at least then the outside would be as hideous as the inside!"

Eddie adores all of it. Loves Steve's mile-wide mean streak. Loves how he can use it to tease the people he loves or decimate the latest idiot he's been forced to deal with.

But Eddie's favorite, the best, the most wonderful, absolutely fantastic moments of Steve's bitchiness? Those happen while he's driving. It doesn't matter what exactly has him riled up about another driver, Steve always has something sarcastic on the tip of his tongue to bitch about them with.

"Do you look as stupid as you drive? Dumbass."

"Jeeze, I never knew the white line was for driving on. What an amazing thing you've discovered!"

"Oh, apparently I missed the memo where 35 mph got changed to 55. Eddie, remind me to check the speed limit sign the next time we drive through here. God, what an impatient asshole."

No matter what it is, it always has Eddie stifling his laughter behind his hand. But this last time - they're at a four-way stop and the car turning across from them definitely went before it was their turn and Steve says, "Hmm, seems someone missed the lesson on taking turns in kindergarten," with that little bitchy tilt to his head - Eddie can't help the guffaw that bursts out of his mouth.

Steve looks at him from the corner of his eye. "What are you giggling about?"

"You. You just - you get so bitchy at the other drivers and, I swear to god, man, it's the funniest shit." He laughs again, says fervently, "Christ, I love you, Stevie."

And then he freezes. Realizes what he said. Takes a deep, horrified breath. It's too soon, they only just started dating, he can't say something like that, he's... He backtracks. "Uh... I mean, uh, I love when you - "

And then freezes again when Steve slides his hand off the steering wheel and onto his thigh, fingers curling around the inside. "So, you love me, huh?"

Eddie chances a glance over at Steve. Despite the teasing tone in his voice, there's something soft around his eyes and the edges of his smile. Something almost... hopeful.

Eddie swallows and decides fuck it. "Yeah, yeah I do," he tells Steve quietly.

Steve makes a quiet sound that goes straight to Eddie's heart. When he peeks over again, Steve is looking back and forth between Eddie and the road and his expression is so open and tender and happy that Eddie doesn't regret for a second what he said, even if it is too soon. "I love you, too, Eds," Steve says and Eddie feels his stomach swoop with butterflies. He puts his hand on Steve's, squeezes it, tangles their fingers together, grins bright at this man he loves so very much.

And if, after that, Steve goes out of his way to play up his bitchiness whenever Eddie is in the car and Eddie never stifles his laughter at it again, well, that's between the two of them, isn't it?

#steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #are steve's bitchy comments while driving entirely based on my own? yes #steve and i are both bitchy drivers #reformed mean girl steve #yes i am incapable of writing anything that doesn't devolve into fluff 😅#also i have been trying to write this since january 27th so i'm not even gonna try to edit it you get what you get #zan fic

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lambertdiary · 6 months

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NSFW!! if i can make my request could you write somthing about mike and reader being in a relationship and she takes care of abby when he's working and one day he comes back sad and upset cuz he's been fired and she comforts him?? and yk i feel like he might be a little sub when it comes to doing it

A/N: Hey!! This is my first time writing for this lovely character, so please let me know what you think of this! Also thank you so much for your request, please keep them coming

Word Count: 2.5k+

Warnings: NSFW, smut, brief hand job, blowjob, sub!mike x dom!reader, praise kink, unprotected sex, FNAF movie spoilers

MASTERLIST ✩ SEND ME A REQUEST

After A Bad Day

Mike was driving back home from the mall, his hands gripping the wheel a little tighter than usual. He had just been fired from his job, again. He needed that job if he wanted to keep custody of his sister, he needed to look good on paper since he didn’t think a judge would want Abby to live with his unemployed brother.

The incident that caused him his job was something he wasn’t proud of, but if he was being completely honest it wasn’t even his fault, he was just doing what he thought was right, but his boss did not like that explanation.

He got out of the car as he held his belongings, taking a deep breath as he opened the front door. There was only one thing worse than getting fired, and that was having to tell his girlfriend about it.

“Hey” She greeted him as soon as he walked through the door.

“Hi” He greeted her back, but walked straight to the kitchen counter to drop off the stuff he was holding. It had been a long day and he didn’t wanna have to face her after losing his job, not yet.

“How was your day?” “It was good” He simply said, his short response giving her a heads up that something was off “Yours?”

“Really good actually, I managed to bond with Abby a little better during dinner. I think I’m in one of her drawings but she won’t tell me”

“I can imagine”

She left the couch and tried to approach him without coming off too strong, if something was off then she didn’t want to overwhelm him, so she stopped when she was close enough “I made spaghetti if you’re hungry”

“Thanks. Where’s Abby?”

“She went to her room a while ago, I’m pretty sure she’s sleeping now”

“Did she eat her dinner?”

“I tried my best but you know her”

“Yeah” He turned around to face her, revealing his injured fists.

“What happened to you? Are you okay?” Y/N approached him completely, her hands going straight to his.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just gonna go take a shower” He freed himself from her grip as he started to make his way to his bathroom.

“Mike…” She stopped him, her glance asking for an explanation when he turned to meet her gaze.

“It was stupid, don’t worry about it”

“What happened?”

Mike stayed silent for a moment, struggling to spit the words out “I uh- I got fired”

“Oh my god Mike, I’m sorry” She could see the disappointment in his face. She knew it was hard for him and she wanted to help, but sometimes he would lock himself up and not let her in “What happened?”

“It was a misunderstanding”

“How?” He simply shook his head, his eyes falling to the ground “What did you do?”

“It doesn’t matter… Look, we can talk about it later, okay? I just need to get my mind off things and take a shower”

She nodded and slowly closed the distance between their bodies, her arms going around his neck “Why don’t you get the shower started while I check on Abby? And I can join you if you want” Her words lingered in the air for a moment as Mike gathered his thoughts. There was a lot going on in his mind. Getting fired, having to look for a new job, the possibility of losing custody of his sister, but it all faded slowly when he was with her “Still there?” She asked, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“So you’re not mad at me? You wanna join me in the shower?”

“Of course I’m not mad at you, and I think that you need to relax. You’re right, get your mind off things and we can talk about it later” She guided him to the couch, sitting next to him as one of her hands fell on his knee, tracing small circles on it “Does that sound good?”

“Y- yeah”

“Are you having a stressful day, baby?” He nodded softly, his tongue wetting his lips quickly “You know, I can help with that” Her hand started to rise up his leg, getting closer and closer to his crotch area.

He swallowed hard as he watched her hand, his trousers getting tighter by the second. She was taking her sweet time, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth as her amusement grew watching him get desperate for contact.

She fell to her knees in front of him, her hands spreading his legs to make enough space for her between them “Wanna get rid of these?” She asked, tugging at his bottoms and he just nodded.

He watched and he patiently waited. She imagined him enjoying the tension of anticipation as she hooked her fingers around the sides of his trousers and slowly, slowly, agonisingly slowly worked them down his legs until they pooled around his ankles. She decided to tease him a bit longer, so she admired his cock covered only by the thick black cotton of his boxers that was just a few centimetres away from her face. She dragged her palm over the lump and watched his eyes widen. He breathed a sigh at the contact, the pressure in his stomach releasing just the smallest bit at the relief. She didn’t break eye contact once, she loved to see the effect she had on him.

After just a moment, her hand slid under the waistband of his boxers, her cold hands against his hot skin caused a hiss to leave his mouth as she curled her fingers around his thickness. She laid her cheek on his thigh, watching each pass of her own hand over his cock.

“Do you want me to take you?” She asked him, expecting an obvious answer from him, but she repeated her question when she didn’t hear a single word fall from his mouth “Mhm, do you?”

“Yes, please” He replied in a desperate tone.

A smile appeared on her face. She sat up straight and positioned herself better between his legs, her mouth slowly approaching his cock as he completely got rid of his pants and boxers. She took the base and her fingers barely connected around his cock, a sight that made him moan on his own.

He was looking down at her with his eyes begging for more, his breath staining when he felt the spit she had collected in her mouth go down his cock. She pressed her soft lips against his head, opening her mouth a little wider when she started to slide down his prick.

A choked moan left his throat at the feeling. She stopped immediately and looked up at him “You have to be quiet, we don’t wanna wake Abby up, do we?” He shook his head, his mouth slightly open “Good boy”

She went back and took him again, hollowing her cheeks around him and her head bobbing painfully slowly. She repeated the motions a few more times but never fully pulled back, and he could feel her warm tongue at different spots and his cum glossing over her lips.

The entire time he was trying his best to stay quiet, he knew he had to, but he couldn’t help himself with how good she was making him feel. He let out a soft moan as her head continued to pump his base to meet with her lips, and as her pace began to quicken the more desperate he was getting for a release.

It was taking everything in him to keep it together right now, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment to try and calm his urges. He let out a long breath, he needed more but he knew he had to be patient, but a particularly good suck made him involuntarily buck his hips up a bit. His eyes shot open as her hand lightly smacked the side of his thigh, warning him.

“Sorry, sorry, I- I’m sorry”

She continued to take him, and he was repeating in his mind he had to be more careful, but it was hard with the sight of his cock disappearing between her lips and her spit coating in his cock.

He was thankful when she started to go faster and deeper, she was sucking and licking repeatedly, her tongue tracing the vein along his cock as the weight laid heavy in her mouth. The pressure in his stomach was tightening with each pass of her mouth, letting both of them know he was close. He almost begged her to keep going, but the words ‘Don’t stop’ got stuck in his throat and a soft whimper replaced them. She had done that before, taking away the pleasure just moments before his release, but she wasn’t planning on doing that today, not when he was already having a hard day.

One of fists was taking a handful of the couch and the other was placed over his thigh, his nails digging his skin every time he felt his tip brush the back of her throat. The feeling of her spit drooling down onto his balls was what pushed him over the edge, and there was nothing he could do about it but cum.

“Oh fuck, I’m cumming” He moaned as quiet as he could.

Her thumb circling his hand gave him the permission he was waiting for. It only took a couple more passes of her soft lips before he was shooting his release down her throat, his eyes screwing shut as he tried hard to keep every sound as low as possible.

She was working him through his orgasm, licking and swallowing every single drop of cum he was giving her. Once she took all of it, she pulled back, the smallest lick of her pink tongue rolling over his head to collect the last drop of release that was still there and a thin line of spit and cum was connecting his cock and her lips before breaking and falling over her chin.

Her gaze was glassy, her lips swollen and her hair a bit of a mess, but he swore that it was the most beautiful sight he had ever laid eyes on.

“Do you feel better, baby?” Her voice was as soft and innocent as ever, only adding to the filthy scene.

He swallowed hard before answering “Yes”

“Good. Are you gonna join me in the shower then?”

He watched her as she got up and made her way to the bathroom, his eyes following her. He wanted to get up and run to the bathroom, but he was still recovering from his orgasm.

“Mike” She whispered when she made it there, waiting for him to follow her “I’ll be waiting for you”

She entered completely and Mike heard the water running so he immediately got up, bursted into the bathroom and locked the door behind him. She smiled when she saw him, the bottom part of his outfit still gone.

Y/N let her sweats fall to the floor, her top joining shortly after. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath and she could almost hear him willing her to turn around to let him see more than just her naked back.

He decided to get rid of the rest of his clothes when she stepped into the shower. He joined her and he secretly admired her naked body.

She finally turned around, giving him a full view of her front, and her lips found his right away, he could taste the traces of his cum still on her lips. His hands travelled up and down her back as her hands landed on his hair. She lightly pulled his head back to give her more neck space, kissing and softly biting down his neck.

With the water muffling any sounds, he allowed himself to let out a moan slip past his lips “It’s my turn to come, yeah?” She whispered as her hand went down his body, finding his hardening cock.

He nodded frantically as his hips betrayed him again with a buck against her hand, but she let it slide this time. He rolled his head back to feel the water run down his face, taking a deep breath before grabbing her hips and lifting her up, holding her with her back against the wall.

They started kissing again, this time more desperate for each other, but especially Y/N who had been getting uncomfortably and painfully wet between her legs the moment she went down on him. Her front was pressed against his and she could feel his hard pressing against her tummy.

“Go on baby, I want you inside me” His response was a low grunt, so he positioned himself and slid his aching cock inside her, slowly moving in and out until she asked for more. He was going deeper with each thrust, and her eyes began welling up with tears at the complete ecstasy coursing through her veins. He went even deeper, hitting her special spot just right. Her walls began to tighten around every inch of him as his brows furrowed in pleasure.

“Faster” She whimpered and he happily obliged.

He quickly picked up a faster pace, her breathing becoming stained at the motions as her nails scratched down his back.

“Play with my clit baby, I know you can handle it” Her words made him moan but he did as she said. He positioned his left arm better to be able to hold her with it alone while his right hand found her clit between their bodies, the immediate feeling of pressure making her head fuzzy.

He motioned slightly faster, this time making small circles around it. The pressure had her crumbling against him almost instantly, as soon as he felt her legs begin to shake against him he started to thrust deeper into her.

By the way her eyes squeezed shut he knew she was close, and so was he, but he had to wait a little longer this time. Finally, that familiar feeling was coming closer and closer, the edge of her climax making her walls tighten around him and her mouth hanging open as moans of his pretty name fell repeatedly from her lips.

“You’re doing so good, baby” She breathed, the praise making him go deeper “Just a little more, I’m almost there”

Just a few seconds after that, the knot in the pit of her stomach became tighter and tighter, her soft moans flowing out of her mouth even more as the pressure sent her into complete bliss. Her entire body twitched against his, her head rolled back in pleasure.

His second orgasm followed shortly after, this time his cum staining her walls as his thrust became sloppy. He fucked himself through his overwhelming orgasm, prolonging hers.

When they were both done, he let her down gently, pinning her against the wall with one arm above her shoulder and his head pressed against the wall as he looked down at her body.

“Good job” She whispered into his ear.

#mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt fic #mike schmidt fanfic #mike schmidt imagine #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt smut #fnaf #fnaf movie #fnaf movie x reader #josh hutcherson

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asapeveryday · 10 days

Text

SHOCK FACTOR ★彡 PART 4

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Rival!Reader

Warnings: swearing

A/n: I hate this ngl 😣 didn’t turn out that great. I swear I’ll do better

Prev. Next.

“ITS TEN PM, why the fuck are you at my hotel right now?”

Elaine gives an unbothered look at your harsh tone, which shocks you because she’s usually more reactive.

“Seriously?” You scoff. She’d been standing stupidly outside of your door for god knows how long, spamming your phone with messages you didn’t see due to Paige taking it. “You don’t even have a key to my room…what did you think you’d accomplish?”

“It’s a Saturday night, I thought I’d take you out.” She rolls her eyes. “Plus I know your teammates are partying right now. Sorry I didn’t want you to be alone.”

“Well maybe I would’ve liked to be alone, since I didn’t answer the 40 texts and calls you gave me.” You say, opening the room up and stepping inside, letting her follow behind. If you were going to argue it wouldn’t be in the hallway for everyone to hear.

“Well you weren’t alone, were you?” Elaine quips with a rude tone that is foreign for you to hear from her.

“So what if I wasn’t?” You narrow your eyes. “I didn’t come to Connecticut just to see you.”

She’s immediately stung by this, and you feel bad for a split second until she retaliates. “Well you came to Storrs for me, right? Unless you were just trying to fuck Paige Bueckers and leave. You and your little fake arguments, you sure you’re not covering up for something?”

“You’re kidding.” You laugh at her, but it’s uncomfortable. “You think I’m faking my arguments to cover up some elaborate hookup? Shit, you’re crazy.”

“I’m not fucking crazy,” Elaine voice raises above yours, clearly hurt by the comment. “I don’t know why you’re all over the chick, and going out to dinner with her? It’s weird.”

“I don’t know why you care so much. That’s what’s weird.”

“I just think you should keep your distance from Paige.” She says, quieter. “The media has been all over you two, I don’t know if you’ve noticed but it’s overwhelming.”

“Obviously not if I don’t know this already.” You raise your eyebrow. “Guess it’s been overwhelming for you though.”

Elaine is quiet for a moment, arms crossed in an attempt to comfort herself. “I’m sorry.” She says. “I guess I’ve just been jealous. You came to see me after like a year, and I kinda felt like you were more focused on Paige then me.”

At the thought of this you immediately feel awful. You hadn’t seen Elaine for a long time, and when you have been with her you were admittedly distracted.

“I’m sorry Lainey.” You sigh out. “I haven’t been here long…It’s just been a lot. We have the rest of the week.” You hold out your arms and she gladly hugs you tight.

“I’m not gonna lie,” you mumble against her “I thought you were mad about Paige for a whole other reason.”

“What?”

“Never mind.” You shake your head, brushing off the thoughts of her jealousy being a little different from how she explained. “Let’s go out. I need a drink.”

You tried to go out and have fun, but your mind kept wandering to earlier. Paige’s hands on your face, her mouth hovering above yours, her eyes staring through you. The memory of her knuckles white and wrapped around the steering wheel as she drove you back home, a pent up expression on her face.

You weren’t sure if she was so annoyed because your moment with her was interrupted, or because Elaine was the one who interrupted it. Despite Paige dismissing your friend, and Elaine seemingly missing your company, you knew there was something going on between them. You just weren’t sure what, and the shots you’d done didn’t help collect your thoughts.

Elaine had been with you for a bit, but eventually went off on her own to get detrimentally more drunk then you planned on getting. You were sitting at a table alone and sipping when you got a notification.

paigebueckers is going live!

You switch to a burner account before joining the live and being greeted with Paige’s straight face reading comments while KK hung out in the background. You felt pathetic watching her live anonymously, but you needed to see her.

“Someone said ‘Ain’t it too late for ya’ll?’” Paige scoffs, turning to KK

“Girl, it’s a Saturday. Who you think we are?” KK quips back, enticing a chuckle from Paige that makes your stomach flutter.

They take turns answering questions; Paige gracefully dodging the less appropriate ones and KK occasionally reading something that makes everyone go crazy. They were so funny together you almost forgot how sad it was that you were in a bar watching their live.

KK looks at the chat for a longer moment before her eyebrows raise, mouth forming an amused smirk while glancing at Paige, who is turned away from the phone and looking at something off screen.

“Aye Paige, someone said ‘u still beefin’ with (name)?’”

Paige flashes a dangerous look to KK who unsurprisingly cowers a bit, but she turns towards the camera and rubs her face sheepishly while responding. “S’ not really beef. We jus don’t get along.”

“Oh?” KK responds, this obviously being news to her.

Blue eyes finally meet the camera, and you almost feel like she’s staring right at you when she says “and I’m tired of people comparing me to her. We are not on the same level.” Paige lets out an entitled huff. “It’s embarrassing. People think just cus we talked like twice we’re equal.”

KK nudges her quickly. “She don’t mean that ya’ll.” She says nervously.

“Nah, I do. I mean she’s not bad. She just don’t got nothing on me.” Paige shrugs. “She’s boring. No shock factor.”

“Aight ya’ll I think that’s it for tonight.” KK says curtly, eyeing Paige. The live ends in an instant, and you’re left feeling hurt, embarrassed, confused and angry. This didn’t feel like an attack on your skill as a basketball player. It was more personal, and Paige knows it.

Your mind is racing from the countless drinks, loud atmosphere and eventful live you’d just watched. You shoot Juju a text and ask her to go live with you, and she surprisingly responds in an instant. The viewers are scarily high right from the get go.

“Who came here from Paige’s live?”

“Ain’t no way she’s at a bar rn”

“Aye (name) how’s Connecticut?”

“lowk think her and Paige are hooking up”

“juju can you say hi pls”

“Hey guys.” You mutter, attempting to steady your voice. Juju raises an eyebrow at your state. “You sure you shud be on live right now?” She asks. “Who’re you even with?”

“Never mind that.” You shake your head, reading through the comments. “Hiii guys. Connecticut’s alright, Storrs is a shithole though.” You laugh.

“Missing California?” Juju asks.

Sighing, you reply “Very much so.”

“Sooo, let’s talk bout your new friend!” Juju smirks, most probably unaware of Paige’s newest comment about you.

“And who would that be?”

“Paige Bueckers, duh. Must be nice to see her in person outside of the court.” Juju says innocently, not paying attention to the increase of questions in the chat concerning Paige’s live.

“Nice isn’t quite the word I would use.” You grumble, and Juju immediately seems to regret bringing it up. She tries to save the situation by asking something else, but you interrupt her. “I think the word disappointing…or maybe shitty fits better.”

“Hah, you’re funny.” Juju attempts to seem amused, but is clearly trying to figure out how she can work in some damage control. She furiously types something out and you get a message from her a moment later

JUJU-KINS 😘

Girl get tf off of live RIGHT NOW and get yo self home and in bed. Ur so drunk.

Seen.

Ignoring the text, you continue to read questions out loud. Your body is practically on fire and you’re aware that you’re not thinking straight, but there are no intentions of stopping now. Paige certainly couldn’t have enough of talking big online, so why should you?

“‘Weren’t you just with Paige at a coffee shop yesterday?’” You read out loud. “Not intentionally.” You huff, eyebrows narrowing. “The girl can’t accept I’m tryna have a peaceful vacation. For whatever reason I keep seeing her everywhere, it’s not even funny, just fucking weird.”

“(Name) I think we should put the phone down.” Juju says quietly.

“Mm, it’s not even my problem she thinks ‘m boring anyways.” You grumble, words starting to slur. “Mayyybe I’m boring cus I don’t wanna fuckin’ talk to her n her shitty Italian restaurant.”

The chat begins to blow up at this, and it finally hits you how much damage you’ve just done. “M’kay bye.” You rush out, quickly ending the live and texting Juju back.

YOU

howw fucked am i scale of 1-10

JUJU-KINS 😘

We not even in numbers anymore atp.

Get yo ass up and go home pls. This is an issue for tmr now

Your head is starting to pound as you get up from your spot and push through people in search of Elaine, thankfully she finds you first, half stumbling-half intentionally bumping into you. She’s obviously wasted.

“Ready to go homeee?” She hiccups, accepting your hand as help to balance herself. “I’m gonna call an Uber.” You reply. “Can we wait outside?”

The two of you practically tumble out of the bar, the cold air slightly sobers you up, and clarifies your thoughts a bit. You feel yourself start to get irritated.

“Do you have to get so fuckin’ drunk every time we go out?” You huff out.

“Don’t start.” Elaine snaps. “You’re literallyyyy slurring your words.”

“At least I can walk,” you scoff. Your head is absolutely aching now, and you’re dying to be home. “You look so stupid tripping around.”

“Well you look stupid feining over Paige, goin live n shit talking her.” She retaliates.

“I’m not feining for shit.”

“You’re obsessed.” Elaine slurs. “N’ I’ll tell you what. She’s going to play your ass and you’re never gonna get over it, cus that’s what she does.”

“You know way more about her then you let on.” You narrow your eyes, unsurprised when she avoids your gaze. “How’d you even know I was out with her today anyways?”

She’s quiet, you can’t tell if she’s thinking or if she’s genuinely ignoring you.

“Elaine.” You say sharply. “How the fuck did you know I was out with Paige?”

“I have her location.” She mumbles.

“What?”

“She still shares her location me.”

“She still…” you pause, attempting to understand what she’s saying. “She shares her location with you?”

“I mean, I don’t think she knows she hasn’t turned it off.” Elaine says sheepishly. “I just happened to check n’ I saw you guys together.”

“This is so fuckin’ weird.” You scoff. “What happened to you guys barely knowing each other?”

“Yeah, well that’s what I told you.” She rolls her eyes.

“And what didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m surprised she didn’t tell you.” Elaine shrugs, eyes heavy.

“We used to fuck.”

The immediate regret on her face as the words leave her mouth makes you sick to your stomach, and a swirl of unintelligible emotions begin to manifest inside of you.

“And you didn’t tell me this because?”

“Didn’t think it was worth mentioning.”

“Why’d you try to get me to flirt with her that first day at the bar?”

She shakes laughs and her head. “Didn’t think you’d actually end up talking to her, didn’t think she’d be so interested in you either. You’re not really her type.”

Exasperated and unsure how to even articulate what you’re feeling, you simply bring your hands to your face. “Do you understand how fucking weird this is?”

“Don’t get so frustrated.” She scoffs. “You’ve talked to her for like three days, n’ you thought she was a dick before this week. Don’t tell me you’re into her now.”

“It’s not even about her at this point.” You sneer. “I don’t know who the fuck you are, and I don’t know why everyone here is fucking obsessed with lying.”

When she doesn’t respond you take the opportunity to get more in, facing her now and looking down in disappointment. “I didn’t even know you liked girls, and now you’re telling me you’ve been hooking up with someone I know? God, it makes sense now why you were so quick to start insulting her the minute she showed any interest in me.”

Elaine can’t even bring herself to look at you, and the fact that she’s so drunk she might not even be digesting what you’re saying is infuriating you.

“Then you guilt trip me about not paying enough attention to you? Was that really what was bothering you, or was it the fact that she was out with me?”

Taking a deep breath, you turn your back to her and check your phone to see when your uber was coming. You also see a text message.

PAIGE

Normally you’d have ignored any message from her after today, but your mind was still racing from adrenaline and you couldn’t help but respond.

YOU

what do u want

PAIGE

Are you still at that bar?

I feel like we shud talk

YOU

you gonna tell me why you lied to my face?

i’m with Elaine rn

PAIGE

Oh uh…

I can pick both u guys up and drop her off ? If u want.

YOU

i’m not riding in the car you prolly fucked her in

bye

PAIGE

Typing…

#Spotify #fanfiction #fanfic #paige bueckers #uconn wbb #rpf #paige bueckers x reader #uconn women’s basketball #paige buckets #paige x reader #rivals to lovers #rivalry #light angst

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copper-16 · 2 months

Text

She Feels Safe With You

Ingrid comes to a realization about her wife as a mother after a particularly hard day with a fussy, upset baby.

(a/n: this was requested by someone on ao3! It's honestly half coherent but life I am riding the struggle bus a tad bit ust wanted to write something soft and sweet about these three, hence this!)

Mapi never really considered herself a crier, not just as a general rule.

She did not cry when she got hurt, or when she was frustrated, or when she watched a sad movie.

She cried occasionally, sure, but it wasn’t a daily, or weekly, or even monthly occurrence.

The Spaniard had cried when Ingrid had walked down the aisle, when she had resigned from the national team. She had cried when she got the notification that Spain had won the World Cup, an event she was not present for.

When they found out they were pregnant, Mapi cried. Ingrid had been in too much disbelief to cry at first, not truly believing that it had worked, not after two failed transfers.

But the center back had cried instantly, fat, bumble bee like tears rolling down her cheeks as she thought about the fact that they were actually going to be having a baby.

It probably should have been a sign of what was to come, in the future.

Mapi cried at nearly every ultrasound, tears springing to her eyes whenever they simply wheeled the doppler, practically. Ingrid had begun to joke that her wife had turned into Pavlov’s dog, except it was listening to their baby's heartbeat at the appointments. It earns her a withering glance, as Mapi roughly shoved her tears away.

“Are you going to cry every time you hold her? What is going to happen when you hear her heartbeat when she is no longer inside of me?” Ingrid sassed, though Mapi does not dignify her with a response.

The Norwegian has a relatively easy pregnancy, thank god. She keeps waiting for the wild emotional highs and lows, or the cravings, but neither really come. She had her moments, sure, but in the large percentage of the time, she felt normal.

What had been more fun, honestly, was to watch her wife turn into a complete and utter pile of mush, emotionally.

She had never seen Mapi cry as much as she did in the lead up to Elena’s birth. Sometimes she would walk out of their bedroom to see Mapi sitting on the couch, tears running down her face as she looked straight ahead, not even really looking at anything in particular.

“What are you crying about?” Ingrid had asked, her head cocked to the side in confusion. The Spaniard looked back toward her, her brows furrowed in confusion as she shook her head.

“I’m not really…I’m not really sure?” Mapi asked, her words a question rather than a statement. She took Ingrid in for a second, the swell of her stomach, and couldn’t help the fresh wave of tears that overtook her once more.

“We’re having a daughter,” she breathed out, her words slightly gasping over the wavering of emotion in her voice. Ingrid made her way over to the couch, settling next to her wife as she curled into her.

Mapi moved to wrap her arms around Ingrid, as she usually did, but the dark haired woman stopped her, softly. Instead, she took her wife's hands gently in her own, pressing a kiss to each of her palms before she placed them over her belly.

Ingrid relished in the way that her wife let out the tiniest little sigh of relief, even as more tears dripped down her face.

“That’s your daughter in there,” Ingrid insisted, her voice soft. A tiny kick pressed against the center back’s hand, as if to punctuate the defender’s point. Mapi closed her eyes, even more tears leaking out of her eyes as she nodded.

The Spaniard was terrified that she wouldn’t be connected to Elena, because she wasn’t the one who carried her. She was terrified that she wouldn’t love her daughter, or be a good parent, that she wouldn’t do or say the right things.

It was easy for Ingrid to know that Mapi was going to be a good parent. Because the reality of the matter was that her wife cared, deeply, and that already made her a hell of a better parent than a lot of people out there.

But Mapi still struggled to see that, no matter how much she was reminded.

————

Mapi cried when Elena was born. She cried as she held her little baby, as she pressed the pad of her pointer finger to her little nose. Elena stayed firmly asleep when she was in Mapi’s arms, never once fussing until she was passed around.

It became a bit of a theme, their daughter sleeping on Mapi.

Ingrid didn’t notice it at first, not when she was a baby. She was so little after all, all she did was sleep, practically.

But still, Ingrid snapped a million photos of her daughter, and so she got a fair bit of Elena sleeping against Mapi. It was where her daughter always seemed happiest, and as much as the Spaniard panicked and turned to Ingrid when the baby was fussing, it was her who was the best at calming Elena.

It was only when Elena got a little bit older, that Ingrid finally pieced it together.

The baby was a little bit older, a little bit more alert. She was nearly a year old when she began to resist sleeping, not as easy to put down, waking up early, becoming fussy.

Ingrid had been at her wits end all morning. The baby wouldn’t stop crying, and her head hurt, and she was tired.

She wanted nothing more than to go into her bedroom, curl up with her wife, and sleep for more than two hours at a time. But she couldn’t do that, not with her baby here, not when Elena needed her.

When the doorbell rang, the Norwegian honestly wanted to scream. Elena looked as though she was just about to fall asleep, but the baby jerked awake as soon as the doorbell rang, her nap forgotten.

The crying was back, and Ingrid held the baby to her chest as she ripped the door open, lashing out at whatever was closest.

The culprit just happened to be Frido.

“Fridolina Rolfö I swear to GOD–” Ingrid started, only to be cut off before she could say something she truly regretted.

“Ingrid.”

The voice was soft, and probably shouldn’t have been audible over the crying of their daughter, but Ingrid would never not hear her wife. The defender turned around, finding Mapi standing behind her with a sympathetic look on her face.

The Spaniard had just gotten off the phone from a brand meeting, just a few minutes prior. But she had called Frido before the meeting started, telling the Swede that she needed to come steal Ingrid for a bit. Feed her, let her nap in peace, get away from the house for a bit.

The Norwegian looked back at her wife with confusion. She hadn’t made plans with Frido, and she knew that she couldn’t leave Elena like this.

But the Spaniard reached for the baby regardless, taking her from Ingrid. The dark haired woman looked over her wifes face. There was exhaustion present, lines written into her face, bags under her eyes.

But there was also understanding there. Some nerves, but understanding nonetheless.

“I called Frido to come take you back to her house for a bit, to have a little bit of a break. Eat a proper meal. Get some sleep without a crying baby around. Rest for a while, princesa. We will be here when you return,” Mapi promised, leaning forward to kiss Ingrid’s cheek. The Norwegian panicked, looking from Frido to her wife.

“But–” Ingrid started, knowing how nervous it made Mapi to be left alone with the baby.

Still, even all these months later, she worried that she was struggling to connect with her daughter. All of Ingrid’s movements seemed so natural, so perfected. And somehow still, hers felt awkward and stinted, never quite right, never as maternal or as easy as she wanted them to be.

She wanted to do better, though, for her daughter and her wife, who was clearly exhausted. Not that the center back wasn’t equally as tired, she just couldn’t very well do anything about it right this very second. But she could do something about Ingrid’s exhaustion.

“No, we will be fine, Ingrid. Take a few hours, amor, you are exhausted,” Mapi soothed, gently pressing the Norwegian out of the door with a soft hand, allowing Frido to lead her away.

It turned out, Ingrid needed it more than she thought humanly possible. When she got back to the Swede’s house, there was Sodd waiting for her on the table, and she practically collapsed into the bowl she ate so quickly.

She napped in Frido’s guest bedroom, sleeping for four straight hours.

When she awoke, she felt like a new woman. She emerged from the bedroom with a small, sheepish smile.

“I am SO sorry for snapping at you this morning,” Ingrid apologized, even as Frido held up her hand.

“Ingrid, you were exhausted and carrying a screaming baby, if I had been you I would have been roundhouse kicking someone,” Frido admitted, and the defender couldn’t help the tiny laugh that she released at the thought. As she came back to herself, she couldn’t help but straighten, a thought racing through her mind.

“Oh my god, Mapi is still home with the baby…can you take me back?” Ingrid asked in a slight panic, and her Swedish teammate quickly sprung into action to grab her car keys.

“She is still so worried that she is not doing a good job with Elena,” the Norwegian admitted as they drove, her heart punctuated with worry.

“Still?” Frido asked, well aware of the struggles that the center back had during the first few months of Elena’s life.

“Not as much now, but still. It does not come as naturally to her as she wants it to be, but she still does such a good job, somehow. I do not know how she doesn’t see it, really,” Ingrid revealed, and Frido let out a small, sad sigh.

“She is so hard on herself,” the Swede commented, and Ingrid could only cringe as she nodded, her agreement weighing on the car heavily.

Frido parked the car in the car park of their apartment building, coming up with Ingrid to check on Mapi and Elena. They were both expecting to still hear crying as they unlocked the door, but the house was…quiet.

Ingrid looked toward her teammate in confusion before they walked into the house, both of them searching for the Spaniard.

“Mapi?” Frido called out softly as she checked the kitchen, only to hear the Norwegian call out to her in the living room.

When the blonde walked into the room, she stopped next to Ingrid, surprise coating her expression.

Mapi was fast asleep on the couch, with Elena curled into her chest. Mapi was only in a sports bra, her shirt discarded on the floor. The baby was stripped down to her diaper, pressed into her Mami’s chest comfortably, completely asleep as well.

Frido looked from the Spaniard to the Norwegian, her eyebrow raised.

“I don’t know, looks pretty natural to me,” she shrugged, and Ingrid softened as she nodded, unable to tear her eyes away from the sight. She pulled her phone out, snapping a photo and placing it in an album on her phone that she was well acquainted with.

Ingrid left the two of them, seeing Frido out before she returned to the living room. She sat on the floor, simply staring up at the two of them as they slept. Elena was completely safe, engulfed by Mapi’s arms.

How Mapi could keep her daughter so safe and secure, and still question whether she was a good parent, Ingrid sometimes did not know. It seemed so blatantly obvious to the dark haired woman, that her wife was an amazing parent.

She only wished that the brunette could see it herself.

It was only another half hour before Elena began to fuss, and Ingrid quickly plucked the baby from her wife’s arms, going to feed and change her. The Spaniard was dead to the world, and Ingrid decided to simply let her sleep.

Lord knows the woman could use it, just as she had needed it.

But even after Elena was fed and changed, she continued to fuss. She cried softly, not very loudly or in a grumpy way, but as though she was not completely happy.

Ingrid tried everything. She bounced the baby, she walked her around, she made faces at her, she covered her in blankets, she laid her down.

Nothing seemed to appease her daughter. Not even when Ingrid stripped her own shirt off, wondering if maybe she just enjoyed the skin to skin contact.

But still Elena kicked her little legs, letting out a weak, tired cry. The defender held her baby out in front of her, her eyebrows furrowed.

“What do you need?” Ingrid asked aloud, though she wasn’t really expecting an answer. Still Elena let out a frustrated cry, wriggling slightly. The Norwegian paused for a moment, before turning around and heading for the living room to test a theory that was beginning to form.

And sure enough, as soon as the baby was laid on her Mami’s chest, she quieted instantly.

The brunette shifted in her sleep, wrapping her arms protectively around Elena, mumbling incoherently as she snuggled into her. Ingrid sat down on the couch next to her, cuddling into her wife as she slept, and helping to keep their daughter held securely as she slept.

Mapi awoke when Elena started fussing again, waking gently as she wrapped her arms around her daughter, her attention completely on Elena even as she woke up.

“Shh shh mi sol, esta bien, esta bien,” Mapi murmured, picking Elena up and going to sit up, at which point she registered Ingrid next to her.

“Oh, hello princesa,” the Spaniard murmured, settling their daughter in her arms before she leaned over to deposit a kiss on her wife’s cheek. She paused though, when she found Ingrid crying, her phone in hand.

“Ingrid? Is everything okay?” Mapi asked softly, her voice thick with sleep but still filled with concern. The Norwegian nodded easily, running her hand over Elena’s back as she set her phone down on the couch.

“You are the best Mami,” she replied simply, watching as a flicker of doubt overtook the Spaniard’s face before she nodded, trying her hardest to look encouraged. The Norwegian looked at her wife for a moment before she reached for their daughter.

“Here, give me Elena,” Ingrid said gently, taking the baby and going to put her down for an actual nap.

When Ingrid returned, she found the center back sitting on the couch, her knees pulled up to her chest.

“I realized something, when I came back from Frido’s,” the defender began as she sat back down, reaching for her phone once more. Mapi turned to look at her, quiet and more than a little curious.

“Ever since Elena was born, I’ve kept an album on my phone that is just pictures of her sleeping on you. And whenever I feel sad, or upset, or I just need a little pick me up, I always look at it. It’s my two favorite people in the world, after all,” Ingrid explained, and her words are so gentle that Mapi can’t help but smile shyly, even after all these years.

“She’s always loved sleeping on you, María. You are the best at calming her down, you are the first to get her to sleep. She feels safe sleeping on you, amor,” Ingrid argued softly, though Mapi looked immediately posed to disagree.

“Look,” Ingrid insisted, pressing her phone into the hands of her wife. The album is already pulled up, simply waiting for the Spaniard.

Hundreds of pictures.

Thousands of pictures, even.

All of Elena snuggled into her Mami, fast asleep. They started when she was a newborn, so tiny that Mapi had struggled to even hold her without feeling fear.

As the little girl grew, so did the Spaniard’s resolve to be there for her daughter. Her confidence grew as well, her worry subsided a little bit.

But more than anything, over the last year, her love for the little girl grew immensely. Tears slid down her cheeks as she scrolled through the album, through the actual, physical proof that just served to show how much she had come to care for their daughter.

The brunette still had no clue how she could hold so much love for someone so incredibly small, but she did.

The Spaniard stood suddenly, handing Ingrid’s phone back to her before she walked back into their apartment. It was the number one rule, not to move a sleeping baby, but Mapi did not care, not right now.

She picked Elena up from her crib, tucking her daughter into her arms tightly, praying that she could always protect her from the world as much as she could right now.

The baby stayed fast asleep, little hot puffs of air hitting her in the chest, where Elena was positioned. Mapi bowed her head downward, her tears dripping from her nose and onto her daughter's perfect little head as she pressed kiss after kiss to the crown of her head.

“Te amo mucho,” Mapi murmured, as she wondered if finally, finally, she was enough.

“She feels safe with you,” Ingrid commented from her spot leaning against the doorway of the nursery. The center back looked up for a moment, her eyes thick with tears. “She is always falling asleep with you, always soothed by you. She feels safe with you, amor. She feels safe with her Mami, and that is enough, you are enough,” Ingrid emphasized, and Mapi struggles to keep her composure as her lungs spasm, burning from the effort of keeping her cries quiet.

Elena opens her eyes carefully, blinking up at Mapi with sleep ridden eyes.

“Mami,” she rasps, reaching out for the Spaniard. Mapi cradles her daughter close to her, pressing her face into Elena’s skin as the little girl giggles lightly, reaching out to pull at a lock of brunette hair.

The Spaniard cannot bring herself to care as she pulls the little girl back, looking her firmly in the eyes. Elena smiles back at her, content and happy, safe and secure.

“Te amo tanto. No puedo vivir sin ti,” Mapi murmured to her daughter, as she felt a part of her heart settle.

Maybe it hadn’t always been the most natural thing to her, to hold a child or change a diaper or play with a baby.

But what she made up for in lack of skill in the beginning, she had made up for with an entirely overwhelming amount of love. Because no matter what she did not know, there was absolutely nothing that Mapi would not do for her little girl.

And maybe, at its core, that had always been enough.

Maybe all they needed for everything to make sense was a little love, and a very long nap.

#ingrid engen #mapi leon #ingrid x mapi x daughter #woso #barcelona femeni #fridolina rolfö

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ccrites · 2 months

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chokehold

listen, I've had this idea in my wips for a while (since the begnining of the year actually) and the fat reader worms have been wiggling in third gear with all the awesome stuff early ( @391780 ) has been putting out lately. So have 6.4k words of Soap being an absolute pussy eating freak but you know you love him

(also on ao3 if you prefer the formatting there, or if you want to drop a kudo)

The second the doors swing back closed behind you, you start feeling the scratchy feeling of doubt at the back of your throat.

It was predictable, really.

A small gym in a small town, heads turn when the hinges creak, not because they’re staring at you specifically, but because it’s a reflex.

Or at least, that’s what you tell yourself to keep the scratchy feeling from turning sour in your mouth. Or make you throw up from embarrassment.

Perhaps your New Year’s resolution should’ve been to start on a home gym type of situation. Buy yourself some girly weights, a mat, and some sort of stepping device, and do those easy exercises every slim, pretty, high-ponytailed YouTube instructor seemed to preconize people out of shape do. Like a hamster on a wheel inside their cage. A rat chasing its own tail, maybe.

No, you promised yourself no more fake promises. Perhaps the money spent on the gym membership (stupid fucking New Year’s promotion) would motivate you to use it, lest it’s just money down the drain.

You wore the stretchiest, thickest pair of black leggings you owned, hoping no one would see the terrible shape of your underwear through it. On the opposite spectrum of things, you knew the largest hoodie you owned would smother you and make you boil with sweat, so you chose the next best thing: the widest black t-shirt you owned. It was definitely not black enough, the dye faded into a dark gray from use over the years, but it was the only thing that camouflaged your body enough from the others’ sight. God forbid they imagine what your body actually looks like underneath.

The heads pretty quickly turned back around as you started walking towards the empty treadmills. It couldn’t have been more than a second, but the combined weight of at least a dozen pairs of scrutinizing eyes would’ve been enough to make you turn on your heels and back to your car, fuck the membership price.

At the very least, you could convince yourself that walking in place (no better than a hamster on its wheel but oh well) would be enough to get you started. Baby steps, and all.

It doesn’t take long for you to realize the treadmill fucking sucks. Why would anyone suggest looking at a parking lot while suffering instead of the pretty scenery of a park or forest (while also suffering, but still).

The timer you’d set for the warm-up (ten minutes, just like the pretty blonde coach suggested!) crawls by way too slowly for your taste. You’d be all but whooping with joy when it beeps if you weren’t so out of breath and conscious of a gaze on you.

You’d seen him as soon as you walked in.

Between figures of balding men trying to get rid of their beer gut with abs, two thin women whispering to themselves in a corner while trying to look inconspicuous, and a few other, completely average-looking men and women, there he stands, eyes meeting yours in the mirror as he deadlifts an impressive amount of black plates.

He immediately looks straight ahead, correcting his stance, as if there were anything to be corrected, in your unathletic opinion. The muscles in his arms bulge even through the thin, grey hoodie, and the ones in his legs coil tight as the weight is lifted off the ground in a slow, controlled motion. Not even a grunt escapes his lips, at least no one you could hear from where you stood, completely mesmerized.

There was always something almost unappealing about overly muscled men. Their wife’s not feedin’ ‘em enough, your granny would grumble when passing by the rows of magazines at the checkout of the supermarket.

Yet this man.

Yeah, he was muscled. But in a way, he looked… almost normal. Like he was built for strength, not necessarily vanity. Each bend of his legs, each twist of his arms…

You’d swoon if you hadn’t lowered your standards so low he’d trip on them. Accepted it a long time ago. Fats belong with fats, thins with thins, and if there’s a thin with a fat, either one’s getting fattened up, or the other’s getting dumped. It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy, and one you’d rather not be a part of.

You walk with shaky legs to the water dispenser, then get ready to grab the second to lightest weights to try some bicep curls.

You try to remember the positioning from the videos. Rotate in… or out? Should the wrists be like this? You go through ten repetitions on each side, before you think that you should’ve gone for the abs straight away. God knows there’s fat to burn there, and that the flab under your arms can wait.

You turn back from the rack and walk straight into a wall.

No, a chest.

Fuck.

“Sorry there, miss,” says a deep voice. You detect some sort of accent, unable to quite place it right away.

Your eyes run up, instinctively stopping for a second at chest level (holy heavens that’s a Chest with a capital C if you’ve ever seen one) before finally meeting that same pair of eyes you met a few minutes ago, through the mirror.

Double fuck.

“S-sorry, it’s me, wasn’t watching,” you stammer out, gesturing to the weights in a panicked way. “Just, y’know, switching exercises,” you sputter with a nervous laugh, like it was a completely normal thing to switch exercises after one rep.

He chuckles, and you really need to start planning your escape, because holy shit the way his pectorals rise and fall as his chest puffs up is getting a bit too much for your poor little humiliated self to handle, but he doesn’t let you as he speaks in a soft tone.

“I’m getting arms aren’t really your thing, eh?” he asks, not unkindly. Gosh, did it have to be a Scottish accent?

You can’t meet his eyes, they’re too blue, too piercing for your liking. “To be fair I don’t know what’s my thing yet, I’m just starting out, y’know?” you shift your weight on your legs, conscious of the size difference, and not in the way you wanted to be. Your neck is very warm all of a sudden.

He laughs again, like it’s the funniest thing in the world, and you almost want the floor to open up and swallow you whole, but the words that come out of his mouth are completely unexpected.

“Figured! A girl with thighs like yours, I’m sure you can deadlift more than me with just a lil’ training. I’m Johnny, by the way,” he adds in passing, as if offering his name is the least of his concerns. “You ever got someone to train you?”

You’re entirely unsure if you’re dreaming or not. Did this Scottish hunk of muscle really just offer to be your personal trainer?

“Never - uh… lifted anything, I guess. Just when moving, my couch and bed and all, but I had a friend help me.” You definitely feel like you’re oversharing and you’re struggling to ignore the weight of the gaze of the two thin women, burning through you as they whisper among themselves, when you realize you hadn't answered the second part. “Oh and, uh– no. I’ve never… trained. Been trained. It’s my first time in a gym since- a while. I don’t want to bother you.”

You finally look up at him, and you’re unable to read his expression. There’s a sort of curiosity, a fascination, that blends fast into a wide-eyed joy that’s so open, so sincere that it makes your head spin as he gently but firmly grabs your wrist and pulls you where his bar stands on the thick mat, ignoring your sputtering protests. “Not a bother at all, lass!” He lets go of you as he bends down and effortlessly racks the barbell, starting to remove plates as he continues. “We can start by measuring your max lift, then the one where you can easily do three reps, then we’ll hike it up till failure, so I can calculate your starting training weight!” he rambles on excitedly. You nervously shift on your feet, conscious of more curious gazes on you, but then he’s back in your bubble, pulling your attention towards him like a magnet.

His smile is like a blazing sun, and you don’t have the heart to tell him to prepare for disappointment.

He’s infinitely patient as he shows you how to place your feet, and the angle of your hips (oh, how you feel your knee weaken at the feel of his light tough through the leggings, nothing short of electrifying, despite being perfectly friendly), the hold on the bar. It’s all a blur till you find yourself bent over in front of him, looking in the mirror at your position and trying not to feel conscious of the way he’s placed behind you. Or let your mind wander in inappropriate places.

“Whenever yer ready, hen.”

You brace yourself, close your eyes for a brief second, wondering how the hell you’d landed on this planet, then breathe in, open your eyes-

The weight is in your hands. Not on the floor. You’re holding it.

You almost drop it when he cheers behind you, warm palms rubbing down from your shoulders to your elbows and back up. “Easy! I told you you’d be a natural! ‘S all in the legs and you’ve got awesome legs, bonnie! Let’s add twenty more.”

It’s a blur of racking and de-racking and lifting once and setting back, and redoing it again and again. You’re out of breath, sweating like a sinner in church, but you’re smiling along with him, finding yourself giving him double high fives, and doing small, excited jumps.

“Next one’s exactly my weight, if y’can lift that, I’ll be losing my bloody mind! D’you realize how well yer doin’ for a first-timer?” He says as he bends next to you, adjusting the bar for the next set of weights. With a wipe of his forearm over his forehead, he crouches slightly down, placing his head right above your shoulder and looking your reflection in the mirror straight in the eyes with a conspiratory grin. “Swear to God, if ye can lift it off the ground, I’m buying you the most expensive drink at the bar next door!” he says, grin blending into a blinding smile, too genuine for your own good.

He’s just friendly, just friendly, just friendly, you say to yourself like a mantra as you position yourself. He stands again to his full height behind you, hands ready under the bar, a safenet.

Deep breath in– hold it…

Slowly but surely, you lift the weight off the floor, your ears ringing from the effort. You see his lips move as he cheers you on, but the blood pumping in your eardrums makes it impossible to hear him. Suddenly, the weight is back on the ground and your feet are off the floor as you’re lifted in a tight embrace and spun around like you weigh nothing.

You yelp and flail but he’s holding you tight, face pressed smack-dab in the middle of your chest, between your tits, rumbling praises about your prowess while you’re trying to figure out whether this can be something that your brain is capable of summoning as a dream.

“Put me down, Johnny, oh my God, put me down!”

He thankfully complies but not before squeezing your ass tighter, and suddenly nothing feels real anymore.

“Jesus, I knew ye were perfect,” he says, pulling back reluctantly to rerack the bar and put back the weights. “I cannot wait to properly start training ye’ tomorrow, but for now, I have a promise ta’ keep, and, uh, let’s just say I wouldn’t mind using those strong thighs as earmuffs with this freezin’ weather. On the way back from the bar, what d’ya say?” he adds, wiggling his eyebrows with a crooked smile that lets you know he’s joking around. (Is he?)

You laugh with him and for a second, you forget what you were here for.

+++

The way to the bar is short. It was just a block away (Good for business, he jokes), but the conversation with Johnny made time really fly by.

He seems genuinely glad when you tell him you’d decided to head to the gym not just as a New Year’s resolution, but trying to simply become a better you. There’s no condescendence, no talking down, no (God forbid) pity, just an overall nice interaction the whole time. He tells you about being on leave as a soldier (Medical leave, he specifies, a fucked up knee can work in a gym, but it’s a different story out in the field), you tell him about your studies and how that led into a “big girl” job that left you no time for yourself.

“But I’ve always been a big girl,” you feel the need to justify. “Just… gotten bigger as I stopped finding time to move. The desk and the laptop are pretty stationary,” you joke, still trying to make sense of why a man like him (broad, and tall, and strong, and… gosh, just perfect-looking) would even deign to accept being seen with you.

(It’s not a date, you dumbass)

“I happen to like big girls,” is what you don’t expect him to say.

Wait, what?

His blue eyes glue you to your seat, and you respond dumbly. “What?”

“I mean, why do you think I’d offer to train you?” he continues, placing his hand, big and warm over your thigh. It’s squished as you sit, wide and flattened in your seat, yet his hand covers a good amount, almost covering the whole width.

Your brain is short-circuiting but you have to answer something.

“Out of– uh… out of niceness?” you stammer out, feeling your insecurities climb back out of the hole they’d been sleeping in all this time, making you shrink even more, trying to cover yourself as if he didn’t see right through you with that piercing gaze. “To feel good seeing you be the reason I lose weight?”

He chuckles, squeezing your thigh as his head hangs down, almost as if to hide the smile that spreads on his lips.

“Strength training doesn’t work like that, bonnie.” He looks back up, and his eyes are blue, and wide, and so pretty, that you can’t find anything to argue back. “Ye’ think building glutes underneath that fat arse does anything but make it bigger?” He shifts, inching closer as he licks his lips and drops his voice lower. “Ye’ think growing your quads will make this,” he gives an even firmer squeeze, wiggling the fat back and forth, and you tense under his grip, but he’s got you pinned down, “any less wide and soft?”

He presses closer, and the booth has no escape room, you’re practically squeezed into the corner as he pushes his body against yours, bending to whisper lowly in the crook of your neck.

“I did not joke when I said I want yer pretty thighs wrapped tight around my head.”

You can’t be blamed when you don’t remember how you ended up in the back of a cab, Johnny barely taking the time to bark an address to the poor driver and throw fifty quid on the front seat before kissing you absolutely senseless, shamelessly groping your tits with a hand and wrapping the other around your thigh, squeezing you close.

You should probably think more about going home with basically a stranger, no matter how hot, but when he presses his entire palm against your cunt, cupping it over the quickly dampening pair of leggings that didn’t seem so thick anymore, you can’t think at all. He swallows your quiet moans, and hums contently against your lips, taking each gasp for air as an invitation to slither his tongue into your mouth. God, you’d forgotten what a good makeout session was like, and you can’t even find it in you to be embarrassed when you see the cabbie’s eyes in the rearview mirror, instantly looking away when you see him staring.

Johnny doesn’t seem to mind either, and when he notices you looking in the front again and again, he crowds you against the door behind the driver with a huff, half-climbing over you until his knee is pressed against your core, and the only thing in your field of vision is him.

“Johnny,” you try to say, but it’s getting hard to think, with the way you’re being squeezed in a corner, this hunk of a man of pure muscle pressing against you like a weighted blanket, kissing you like you were a drop of water in the desert and he was a parched man drinking you for his salvation. You feel his excitement pressed against your thigh, and it gives you enough lucidity to try again. “Johnny,” you gasp out again, “aren’t we going a little fast?”

He laughs instead, choosing to focus on the side of your mouth, pressing fervent little kisses down your neck before starting to suckle the delicate skin over where your clavicle is. “I can go as slow as you’d like, bun.” He takes the spot an inch next to the previous one into his mouth and sucks again, this time more forcefully, marking you, and oh God you’re going to have to conceal it before work tomorrow, unless you can find a turtleneck to wear–

The cab driver clears his throat, and you notice that the car is stopped in front of a small apartment complex. Johnny says a cordial thanks as he pulls you out of the car and throws another twenty on the backseat, before wrapping his arm around your shoulders and taking all of the thinking out of the equation as he walks you to the entry.

His flat is pretty well furnished, all things considered, but he doesn’t give you enough time to observe the deco as he presses you against the door and slides his hand under your leggings.

“Got me starin’ at that ass the second you walked in, best fuckin’ thing I’ve seen in months, d’ye realize that, bonnie?” he breathes out against your ear as his entire palm cups your sex, and you can only whine as you press your forehead into the crook of his neck. “And by how wet this pussy is, I think you liked starin’ at me, too.”

“You are–” you say, but he curls his middle finger in, spreading your lips and spreading the wetness to your clit, making you choke on your words, “-very nice to stare at.”

“Yeah?” you hear the grin in his voice.

“Mmhm,” you nod, as he keeps the back and forth of his finger, never dipping in too far, just keeping you hungry for more.

“Then how’d ye like to stare down at me as I taste this wet cunt of yours?” he purrs in your ear as he stops moving completely, letting the words process.

Brain.exe has stopped functioning.

Had you ever had a boyfriend willing to speak filth like that to you when you were down to do the deed, maybe you would’ve gotten enough practice to know what to answer something sensible and intelligible to that, but as it stands, all you can muster is a very dumb-sounding “Huh?” as you stare back at him.

And that, apparently, is the funniest thing in the world to him, because he dips his head down and laughs, almost like a boyish giggle. Not only does that not stop him from kneeling in front of you, but it also somehow gives him more confidence to keep talking like that.

“How about you look down into my eyes as I eat out your pretty little pussy and make you come around my tongue, how’s that sound?” His baby blues bear no trace of maliciousness, no trace of a joke, as his fingers hook around the waistband and trace it around your stomach. You have to make a very conscious effort not to suck it in immediately in preparation for the letdown, but he doesn’t pull them down yet, only moving his hand alongside the edge. Your silence as you try to process what is happening only seems to spur him on instead. “In fact, how about you close your eyes, I close mine, and you hold my head close as I devour you, would you let me do that, pretty girl?”

“I’m not-” you can’t think of any way to properly let him down, not when he looks up with such pleading eyes, so the words stumble out gracelessly. “I’m sweaty, you don’t wanna–”

But he interrupts as he pulls your leg closer by gripping your thigh and squishing it against his cheek “But I do.” He inhales deeply, and your own breath shakes at the sight of how blissed out he already looks. “God, I want it. Let me have this.”

A voice somewhere inside yells at you that this has to be some sort of weird fetish, and that he most certainly won’t be having the same aura of desperation around him tomorrow, when post-coital rationale shows up and he sees your body past the veil of lust, but for now, you think that getting some with Johnny cannot be that bad compared to any one of your past encounters. Might as well enjoy it when you still can.

You wrap your hand around the one he still has around your waistband, and see his face positively light up as you softly caress his cheek.

In the end, you’re the one that pleads.

“Johnny, please.”

Your pants are off you and your leg is over his shoulder before you realize what is happening.

The feel of his warm tongue against your slit makes any thought, any doubt, any fear positively vanish, and the content sigh that he lets out as he licks at you is the same sigh as finally removing a bra at the end of a long day, it’s the sigh of laying down carelessly onto a soft bed after standing up for hours, it’s the sigh of the first bite of the best meal a man has after starving for weeks.

It should be awkward the way his arm wraps around your thigh and sinks into the softness of your stomach, using it to pin you up as he uses his other hand to spread you out enough for him to work his jaw the same way he did when he was making out with you in the car… Yet it’s not. It’s natural, the way his hand squeezes you as he licks, and sucks, and kisses around your pussy, unhurried yet passionate, languidly but firmly, pressing his tongue in, licking around your lips, and maddeningly avoiding the place you wanted him to touch most.

“Johnny,” you moan as he grazes his teeth around your sensitive nub in response. You almost buck out of his hold, but he’s firmly keeping you in place. “Please, don’t tease.”

He hums in response and dives back in, eyes fluttering closed as he ignores your whines. Every time his tongue or lips graze your clit, he works his mouth the opposite way, holding your thigh harder and pressing his palm up as he counters your hip movements with a clever swipe of the tongue. It’s absolutely maddening. “Johnny, please!”

He chuckles as he pulls back, an obscene string of spit lengthening as he pulls back, only breaking when he runs his tongue against his reddened, swollen lips. “Thought ye’ wanted me ta’ go slow, bun.” His eyes sparkle with challenge, but you can also discern a veil of unhidden desperation, of waiting for you to give the go-ahead for him to let loose.

“I’m fine with faster–” you start, but the words dissolve into a barely restrained moan as he hikes your leg up more, getting you closer to him, and immediately singling onto your neglected clit.

His forehead rests onto your belly now, and if you had more than two functioning neurons you’d wonder how he is that he’s breathing, but his hums and moans let you know that he’s perfectly content burrowing his nose in your pussy, nudging at your clit with the tip of it as he licks you with all the dedication you’ve never been shown from a man of his caliber.

He builds it up, and soothes it down, knowing exactly when to put more pressure, or when to teasingly swirl his tongue around your entrance, or to lave broad strokes of his tongue, so much so that the knee that’s not hooked over his shoulder almost gives out on a particularly forceful suck of your clit.

“Easy there,” he groans almost petulantly, as if you’re interrupting him. “Can’t have you fallin’ over when I’m not done wit’ ye.”

“My legs are gonna give out,” you say honestly, trying to catch your breath and avoid having the perfect man at your feet steal it again. “You’re a bit too good at this.” He grins up at you, “Am I?” and you want to give you a playful swat, but instead decide on carding your fingers through his now disheveled mohawk. “Guess the mess on my face speaks for itself… Shall we take this to the bedroom?”

You throw a glance around the apartment, assessing your options. “Couch is closer.” His smile is blinding. “I like how ye’ think.”

It’s now the second time he surprises you by scooping your legs from under you and picking you up like he couldn’t wait any longer and that carrying you bridal-style was the only way he could think of moving you. You yelp out a protest but he swallows it with another hungry kiss, shamelessly smearing your own wetness over your cheek as he walks you both to the couch.

You sink into the cushions where he places you gently without so much as a grunt of effort, and oh God, there they are, the standards are rising.

You reach over to pull him closer as he straightens up, but he only gives you a peck on the lips in return, like he hadn’t been kissing you sloppily the entire time.

“Come back,” you whine, hoping you can get it done before he comes back to his senses, like they all do, but he just smiles and kneels between your feet, hands pressing your thighs apart. The squelch of your lips parting should be embarrassing were he not looking up at you like you were the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, eyes full of adoration, like a child staring up at the full moon on full display on a clear night’s skies. Maybe you are his moon, his goddess, judging by the lust-clouded look directed at you.

“I did say I was gonna make you come on my face,” he says lowly, the gravel in his voice making you squirm as he places a trail of kisses up your thigh. “And I intend to keep that promise.”

With that, he dives in again, using his forearms to pin your legs open on the couch and his fingers to tease around where his tongue can’t reach. You mewl when you feel his tongue at your entrance, circling it around it briefly before delving in as deep as he could, his right hand stroking your clit rhythmically. The fact that he’s so good at somehow playing all your buttons like a maestro directing an orchestra has you thinking that he must be some sort of womanizer, some freak who does this kind of thing every night, but then his lips wrap around your nub and he gives a firm, long suck, and any restriction that you could’ve conjured up simply vanishes. Your thighs want to close around his head, but you can’t move under the iron grip he has on you.

You fist his hair more forcefully than necessary, and he looks up, wet eyelashes framing his beautiful eyes as he hums in response.

“Please,” you moan, and he hums affirmatively again, closing his eyes to focus on licking and suckling harder. He heard you, he simply doesn’t seem to care. “Johnny.”

“What,” he asks, voice muffled and why is this so hot?

“I need… I need,” you whine, unable to string the words together, and desperately trying to buck your hips under him, for lack of strength to actually close your thighs how you want to.

That seems to get his attention, and he chuckles, before pulling back with a gentle kiss on your mound. “Guess you’ll have to keep tryin’, pet,” he sussurs, a condescending pat on your thighs before he dives in slower than before.

Oh, the absolute asshole. Now he wants you to work for it?

You think that doing the opposite, relaxing your thighs open and letting him go to town however he wanted would help, but he seems hell-bent on riling you up every once in a while, getting you closer and closer with each lave of his tongue over your poor, overstimulated clit, but never enough to actually push you over the edge.

After what seems like an eternity, and almost, almost starting to think that this was a mistake, halfway ready to let him do this thing before your hip starts to cramp up, you feel a finger nudge at your entrance.

“Fucking finally–” you start, ready to curse him out, but he’s faster than you can think in your blissed-out state, and he slides a second finger alongside the first one, immediately zeroing in on that spot that makes you go cross-eyed and buck under his hold.

“Thassit– there you go, pretty girl,” he murmurs against your clit, and oh, okay, maybe you were closer than you thought, because the rhythmic curl of his fingers doesn’t need to last long before you’re off like an arrow, back arching and thighs squeezing, coming harder than you ever thought was possible. If he were any less skilled at making you completely lose the ability to think, you’d maybe notice that you’d managed to close your thighs almost completely around his head, but he wasn’t, so you don’t, twitching helplessly in the aftershocks of the most wonderful orgasm a man had ever given you.

Limbs that somehow still belong to your body hang uselessly off the side of the couch, and you struggle to catch your breath. You blink lazily, noticing him smugly wipe his face with the back of his hand, his half lidded eyes not any less blissed-out than yours.

You didn’t believe a man like this ever existed, until now. It aches that this might not be something that would last, so you make grabby hands at him, unable to find the will to speak just yet.

He laughs softly and gently grabs your arms, kissing from your knuckles slowly up your arm, to the crook of your neck. The patience he has is almost inhuman, as he takes the time to let you regather your senses, matching the marks he made earlier on the other side of your neck. You cup your hand around his head in response, and he smiles at you.

“Ye’ with me, bun?”

“Mmhm.”

“That slow enough fer’ ye’?” He holds himself up, an inch fron your face, and you reach up to kiss him.

“I’m gonna kill you dead,” you mutter against his lips, and he chuckles.

“Let me at least fuck you properly, first,” he whispers, and you notice that he’s long since unbuttoned his pants. You barely get a view of the massive size of him over your belly as he holds himself in his hand, large palm not enough to cover the whole length of him as he strokes himself, angled in such way that his tip rubs against your clit on each downstroke. The word “Please,” is not even halfway out of your mouth when he sinks into you in one swift motion, the rest dissolving into a long, drawn-out moan.

“Fuck-” he grunts, “so tight, cannot believe it.”

He guides one of your legs to wrap around him, keeping it flush against his body with his elbow as his palm grips your ass tightly, the other holding him against the backrest, forearm near your head as he pulls you closer for a sloppy kiss as he starts rolling his hips. You moan into his mouth and he swallows them greedily, leveraging each trust of his hips with a pull with his hand, helping you move in tandem with him, readjusting when your thigh threatens to slip out of his hold. The slaps of his pelvis to yours should sound obscene, his hard muscles hitting against your soft, jiggly skin, but his groans into your mouth are like music to your ears, the fact that he’s vocal about it has you almost reaching your peak again in no time, but he seems to sense it, and slows down immediately.

You try to kiss him harder, but he makes a small noise of protest, muttering something that sounds vaguely like “no, let me, let me just–” and you want to ask what he wants to do, to help him, but he instead reaches down both hands to grab your hips and pull you off the backrest. You yelp as your ass suddenly hangs in the air, his cock speared inside you the only secure point as he pulls you halfway off the couch, but he directs you firmly, “Here, around me,” helping you wrap your legs tightly as he starts thrusting again, harder than before.

“Oh, God, oh God,” you flail around, but each thrust in pushes your back into the cushions, and he reaches behind his back to hold your feet in his hand as he presses his palm near your head for support, spewing more filth as he does.

“That’s it, hold me tight, squeeze my cock like ye’ almost squeezed mah heid off earlier, huh, bonnie? Show me what those thighs can do, fuck-”

Your whole body is jiggling with each thrust, and you don’t have it in you to even feel self-conscious with the way each time he fills you, the tip of his cock nudges against the spongey spot inside, making you mewl in tempo with his relentless rhythm.

“Johnny, Johnny,” you moan, and he bends over to kiss you again, swallowing his name like communion while you chant it like a prayer.

“Don’t give up now, bonnie, keep squeezin’, fuck, I can feel ye’, yer so close.”

You try to get some leverage with your upper body, trying to push yourself up the cushions, but his cock suddenly slips out of you as your thighs almost give out, and an apology is already halfway out your mouth when he kneels back down and burrows between your legs, tongue first with a rushed “Need ta’ taste us, fuck, both of us, together-”

One hand wraps around your hip and over your pelvis, reaching up to knead desperately at your stomach, to pull you closer or push you away, you can’t tell, the other pulling your lips apart to settle his entire lower face against your pussy firmly– before letting go as he starts humming.

Your thighs are free to squeeze around his ears, and he nods encouragingly as he keeps licking, and then you hear it: the sounds of wet stroking. You don’t see him fisting his cock, but you hear it, fast and desperate. As your hand tangles in his hair to pull him closer, and another hum– no, another moan vibrates through your core, it’s the last thing you hear before you’re absolutely gone, gasping out a curse as you tense up in his hold, trembling as you come.

It’s even more intense than the first one, and as you buck out of his hold, he stands up shakily, his hand moving faster and faster around his cock, the angry red of his tip at the same level as your face. You gesture for him to sit down, trying to signal to him that you want to reciprocate despite the post-orgasmic haze and exhaustion, but he shakes his head, and, seconds later, you feel warm wetness land on your belly and slowly trickle down as he moans your name when he comes.

You feel like you still have to give something back, and, when he slumps down next to you with a content sigh, you climb over to place a delicate kiss on the tip of his cock, letting out a huff of laughter when it twitches under your touch.

“Ye’ absolute menace,” he whispers fondly as he pulls you up and tips his body to the side to lie down, using his legs to push you up halfway over him, trapping you between his body and the cushions, yet protectively shielding you from falling over. You place another kiss on his stomach, and you see his abs tense under your touch as your warm breath moves his hairs as you hover for a second, before deciding to shift up and use his pectorals as a cushion. He hums softly as his arm wraps around under yours, reaching to pull the plaid off the back of the couch and settle it around you both. Ticklish, eh? That’s a piece of information best stored for later.

You’re still breathless, absolutely done for. God, best decision of your life, going to the gym. “Now what?” you can’t help but ask. It’s the same fear that always creeps up, the fear that he got to try out a fantasy, and now that he was done with it, he had no need to want to continue anything possibly serious. Not that eating a girl out on a first date, if you could even call it a date, was a sign of a one-night stand, you can’t help but feel awkward and insecure now that it’s all done, despite the comforting cuddle.

He chuckles in response, that same chuckle from earlier in the day, a What a silly question chuckle. Like he’d read into your thoughts and insecurities and found them absolutely laughable.

“Same time at the gym, tomorrow? I want you to squeeze my head off next time.”

“Next time, huh?”

He pulls your leg over his pelvis, trapping his still half-mast cock between his belly and the crook of your knee, hand firmly wrapped to shift you up, almost completely on top of him. When both of you are comfortable and you start feeling the tendrils of sleep pull you deeper, he gives a last, playful squeeze to your ass.

“Next time.”

#cc writes #soap #soap x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #fat reader #chubby reader #john soap mactavish x fat reader #pwp #call of duty #fanfiction #call of duty fanfiction #cod fanfic #cod #plus size reader #john soap mactavish #my man knows how to eat pussy and he ENJOYS it #ignore my attempt at writing his scottish accent i tried okay?

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teyums · 1 year

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a/n: cats are so funny because they genuinely think they’re doing something nice for you when they drop a mouse at your feet as an offering and it’s actually the opposite. i was watching my cat play with her little toy and it just brought the terrifying memory back to me bc WHY WOULD YOU THINK I WANT THIS? As soon as the idea came i wrote it, Neteyam just seems like the type LMAOO 😭

neteyam x human!reader

It takes Neteyam quite a while to understand the difference between Na’vi women and human women, especially the difference in what you do and don’t like. But you can’t blame him, you don’t look like his kind, you don’t smell like his kind, hell, you don’t even dress like them.

The Na’vi’s behavior very closely resembles that of a house cat on earth— you’ve noted after studying how Neteyam’s emotions portray themselves through his expressive tail, how his ears dip when he’s angry or perk up when he’s excited, or how he purrs when you finally agree to sitting in his lap instead of your chair while you finish up your work for the day. With the innate behavior of the two creatures mirroring each other almost completely, it’s no surprise that this also heavily factors into what they deem as ‘gifts’ for their favorite human.

Just as housecats will fetch their humans dead animals or rodents as an offering to them, the Na’vi way isn’t too far from that. You hated so much as looking at dead animals, let alone being near them, but when your childhood cat, Loki, used to bring field mice into the home and drop them at the foot of your bed, at least it was small enough for you to scoop into a grocery bag with pinched eyes and a hand over your nose while you fought back the tears of sheer terror.

Most of Neteyam’s catlike nature rendered adorable to you, and while you were more than willing to learn more about the ways of his people, this new custom he’d introduced you to had your heart dropping out of your ass like a brick and your soul exiting your body as if you could do without it. It’s when he shows up to the lab, a dead boar strung over his back with the biggest, toothiest smile you’ve ever seen spread on his lips until a bloodcurdling scream wipes it clean off his expression.

“Oh my God, ‘Teyam, get it away, get it away!” You shrill, so startled you almost tumble out of your desk chair, the hairs on your neck standing straight up as you divert your attention from the animal that’s almost the size of your body, a panicked hand splayed over your rumbling chest and the other extended out, palm towards him.

“What? You don’t like it? Should I have gone with a hexapede (deer) instead?” His brows gather in the center of his forehead when he steps closer and you immediately yelp and scoot back, the metal wheels of your chair screeching against the smooth tile with the effort of your retreat. He’s wholeheartedly confused, because any woman of his kind would find such a gesture as this one beyond thoughtful, and even romantic. Catching one of these things isn’t easy, and a clean kill with an arrow through the heart as to not rupture or damage the meat of the animal is even harder.

“I even skinned it for you!” He urges with a pout.

Your involuntary squeal interrupts his attempt to convince you as you fan your face with your hands, but it seems as if he’s still having trouble understanding.

“Perhaps I should have roasted it as well…” He ponders to himself with a hand pinching his chin, deep in contemplation while he keeps his catch over his shoulder and his eyes cast toward the wall, completely missing the way your trembling hands scramble over your desk for something to launch at him.

“GET IT OUT!”

He winces at the pitch of your shriek, astounded by how that loud of a sound could come out of such a tiny being. His brows raise before he quickly ducks to dodge the one-subject notebook that flaps past his head in a blur of fluttering paper, and he hurriedly obliges your wishes with a few steps back and a rushed ‘okay, okay!’.

Likes + Comments + Reblogs are much appreciated 💗

©teyums 2023

#avatar 2 #avatar way of water #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #neteyam x you #neteyam #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam fic #neteyam fluff #avatar twow #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x human reader

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iliaclwrites · 2 years

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everybody’s talkin’ up a storm (act like they don’t notice)

summary: The one where the boys don’t know that Eddie Munson is dating the pretty assistant librarian that always helps them out. Dustin has a crush on her. Mike thinks it’s fake. Erica just wants to get home to watch Thundercats.

“Uh, Eddie?” Lucas started, voice small. “Do you have someone over?”

Eddie blinked. “Uh. Just my girlfriend,” he said flippantly, tossing himself onto the sofa and taking a slow drag of his cigarette. “Keep it down for a while, would ya? She had a long night.”

There was silence.

“Your what?”

warnings: none! wholesome fluff here lmao. a lot of d&d references -- curse of strahd is a banger

“You kids okay?” you asked, setting down the collection of Tolkien books they’d recalled from the front desk. “Fresh out of the returns bin, I thought I’d better bring them over here before I reshelved.”

“Thanks,” Lucas breathed, grabbing the top one from the pile and hauling it open. He’d always liked you. You’d started as assistant librarian two years ago, and had always had a soft spot for them, wheeling them straight to the fantasy section when they’d stumbled in as wide-eyed kids on their first day.

“Now, what’s all this about?” you asked, leaning over to read Dustin’s notes. “Book report? I didn’t think Fellowship was on the syllabus.” You pressed one manicured nail to the paper. “You’ve spelled Lothlorien wrong, honey.”

“You’ve read The Lord of the Rings?” Dustin demanded, his hair flouncing as he peered up at you from his book cavern. “Really? What’s your favourite book? Favourite character?”

You laughed. “The Two Towers, and Faramir,” you said, and chewed on the edge of your thumb. “Pippin is a close second, though. Are you guys just in a book club?” Your eyes lit up as you took a seat next to them, leaning forward conspiratorially. “Can I join?”

“It’s not a book club,” Mike said, and chewed his mouth a moment, obviously debating admitting something. “We’re doing research for a Dungeons and Dragons campaign.”

You stared at them. “You’re in Hellfire?” you asked, and then pulled their notes over to you, nodding at the numbers you saw. “Ah. That makes sense then. Yikes. Five charisma, Lucas, really?”

Lucas yanked his notes back as Dustin’s mouth fell open a little bit more. If that were possible. “You play D&D?” he asked, voice going shrill.

“Dustin, honey, this is a library,” you said, pressing your index finger to your mouth.

“I’m sorry,” he said sarcastically, and lowered his voice to a stage whisper. “You play D&D? You know about Hellfire?”

You snorted, and twisted in the seat, looking very unlike the prim and proper librarian you had been moments ago. The way you were lounging sparked something in Lucas’ brain, something familiar, but he pushed it down. “Do I know about Hellfire,” you muttered, shaking your head. “My brother was the first DM.”

That caused an absolute uproar. Their pencils flew about the room, papers shoving, and you tried to no avail to calm them down. You could feel the gaze of Mrs. Leibniz, head librarian, burning into the back of your skull.

“Boys, boys,” you said, waving your hands. “Okay, Jesus Chr– yikes,” you corrected lamely. “One at a time, one at a time.”

“What did you play?” Mike asked.

“Do you still play?” That was Lucas.

“Do you want to come to Hellfire?” Dustin, sweetly, hopefully.

You smiled at them, twirling a pencil as you cast your mind back. “God, back in the day? I think my character in my Hellfire days, before I was a DM, was an Elven rogue,” you said, nodding as it came back to you. “Tinuviel, of the Woodland Realm. She was such a knockoff Eowyn it’s kind of a wonder Tolkien never sued. I do still play, a little, when my brother has the time to do a oneshot. I can’t come to Hellfire, it clashes with my shifts. Satisfied?”

The boys nodded, and you smiled at them firmly, glancing down at a sheet of paper. There was a beat of silence, and then –

“Wait, sorry, did you say you DM?” Mike said, twisting in his seat to look at you.

You shrugged. “We had a rotating DM base back then,” you said, scratching the back of your head. Again, the motion pinged something in Lucas’ skull, but he wasn’t sure what. “Once my brother left, I shared the year with Eddie Munson – you guys must know Eddie, right?”

They nodded. You leaned forward conspiratorially.

“I made him cry when he faced down Strahd.”

“No way,” Lucas said, rocking back in his chair. Your hand shot out, slamming it back onto four feet before he would tumble. “Shit, I mean, dang. Sorry. But you made him cry?”

You grinned, remembering it fondly. “Yeah,” you said, and Mike saw your librarian persona totally slip away in exchange for a totally feral smile. “He didn’t speak to me for a weak after he died. God. Good times.”

“You’re crazy,” Dustin said, pointing a pencil at you, “and you’re everything we need.”

You blinked. “Huh?”

“It’s simple,” he said, pointing at the paper. “You can help us outwit Eddie. Run circles around him. You’ve almost definitely played Rahasia before. He won’t know what hit him!”

You wrinkled your nose. “Dustin, honey, doesn’t that defeat the whole purpose of D&D?” you asked, and he shrugged. “You’re better off without me, kids. Just–” You stopped, looking up at them from under your eyelashes. “Does Eddie still do that thing when he DMs, where he, like,” you chewed your bottom lip, “starts singing?”

“I hate the singing,” Mike groaned, and Lucas nodded in agreement. “He writes all these songs! And then he sings them! Sometimes with guitar!”

“It’s great for worldbuilding,” Lucas said quickly, “but. It does go on for a bit.”

You bit back a smile. “Some things never change.”

Dustin shot you a quick grin. “We’re actually going to Hellfire after school today,” he said, “if you want to come with us? Break out that old Elf rogue.”

You shook your head. “I’m a Halfling now,” you said, quirking up a smile. “Rindi, of the Shire. Master thief. Besides, it’d clash with my shifts. And then where would I be? You don’t think you guys are my only kids, do you?”

With that, you stood up, leaning over to whisper, “If you’re playing Rahasia, make sure you’ve got a bone dagger on you,” before moving back to the reshelving trolley. “Good luck, boys! Tell Eddie I say hi!”

“Hey Eddie,” Dustin chirped as he headed into Hellfire. “We bumped into an old friend of yours at lunch.”

He quirked an eyebrow, munching on a sandwich from his backpack. “Uh-huh?” Eddie said, not really listening to him. “And?”

Dustin shrugged, and looked at Eddie slyly. “Tinuviel says hi.”

Eddie blinked, and swung his leg down from where he was sprawled across the chair. “You met my girl!” he crowed, throwing the sandwich down onto the table, sending bits of lettuce careening across the minifigures. “She’s a spitfire, that one.”

“She’s the assistant librarian,” Mike supplied helpfully, and Eddie shot him a weird look.

“I know,” he responded, furrowing his brows. “We’re literally on the same campus, like, all the time.”

Mike flushed. That much was obvious.

“Anyway, enough chitty-chatty,” Eddie said, and leant over the gameboard. “You last left Rahasia in the dark of the night, exhausted and weary from a skirmish…”

“Hi,” Dustin said to you, meekly. You peered over at him from the books you were checking back in, locked up in a cavernous stack of AP Calculus texts and editions of Hamlet. “This is. This is kind of a weird question. You don’t have to say yes.”

You shoved some of the books out of the way to look at him, and pressed your glasses up your nose. “Hey, everything okay?” you asked, gesturing for him to take a seat. “Take deep breaths, Dustin.”

He shook his hair out. “Well,” he said, taking his hat off and holding it in front of him like a Regency era gentleman. “It’s my birthday next Saturday–”

“Happy birthday,” you said automatically, and he shot you a nervous smile.

“I was wondering. Well, we were wondering. Mike, Lucas, and me,” he clarified, “if you’d like to come over and play a oneshot campaign with us? I’m DMing for my birthday, and it’s my first time, and I’m kind of nervous. It’d be really cool to have more people in the party.”

You winced. “Dustin, honey,” you said, and pulled another returned copy of Hamlet toward you. “That’s not really appropriate. I’m a teacher here.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re an assistant librarian,” he countered. “Plus, you know what you’re doing! It’ll be fun!”

You scratched the side of your nose, glancing down and away from him. “Sweetie, I’m sorry. It’s against policy, I can’t just show up. I could get into a lot of trouble.” You shot him a smile, unhappy with how crushed he seemed to be. “Look, look, tell you what,” you said, pressing your thumb to your mouth and chewing at the nail as you scrawled out your shift timings. “If you meet me in the library on the days you don’t have Hellfire, I’ll help you with your oneshot, okay?”

He brightened. “I get to hang out with you?”

You blinked stupidly. “Uh. Yeah, I guess,” you offered, and shoved the paper toward him. “I’m kind of rusty, but I’ll see what I can do. How many are in the party?”

“The usual Hellfire guys,” he said, “so four. Oh, and Lucas’ sister. So five,” Dustin said, and you nodded, wheels in your brain turning as you tried to think of a good campaign for them that’d be finished in time. “You’d really help me with this?”

You grinned, and nudged his elbow with your pen. “Once in Hellfire, always in Hellfire, kiddo,” you said, and he shoved his bookbag down on the table. “Hey!”

“You’re free now,” he said, pointing at the sheet, and started pulling reams of paper from his bag. “I was thinking, like, a desert campaign. You know. Caravans and camels, that sort of thing.”

You bit back a fond smile, and watched as he laid out the bare bones of his first ever Dungeon Master session.

“There you are,” said a voice, after nearly half an hour of you helping Dustin build the stats of his Lizardfolk NPC, and you grinned at the sight of Eddie Munson standing near the desk. “Dude, we thought you died. You’re gonna miss lunch. Heya, teech,” he added, winking at you.

You smiled up at him beatifically, and pushed Dustin’s papers back toward him. “Hey, honey,” you said to Eddie, and glanced back at your desk. “You’re gonna do great, Dustin. Don’t worry about it, okay? You’re a natural.”

“Can I come back?” Dustin said quickly, and Eddie glanced down at him in surprise. “Like. To work on the campaign. With you. Here. Or other places. So it’s perfect. You know.” He smiled again, and you sighed, rubbing your temples.

“Of course you can, Dustin,” you said, and looked up at Eddie above Dustin’s head. “He wants me to help build out his birthday campaign.”

Eddie grinned, and clapped his hands on Dustin’s shoulders. “And you’re enlisting my girl Tinuviel?” he asked, and Dustin smiled nervously up at him. “There have never been safer hands, my friend. This will be a campaign to remember.”

With one hand on Dustin’s head, Eddie wheeled him out of the room, before turning around surreptitiously to blow a kiss at you. You jumped up from the desk slightly to catch it, nuzzling it softly, before biting down viciously at the fake kiss. Eddie gasped in horror, and shielded his eyes, parting his hands slightly to shoot you a wink before he vanished out the door.

It was a few days of this, of Dustin appearing in the library at lunch with an apple for you in one hand and a binder in the other, as the deadline of his birthday loomed. You helped him take detailed note of his characters – who did what voices, where did people stay, what was a catchphrase you could use to slip into character. He was sweet. You understood why Eddie was so fond of him.

“You’re gonna do great,” you told Dustin on the Friday, as he was packing his things up. “Seriously. I wasn’t this prepared for my first campaign. Just remember to keep your character sheets–”

“Right where I can find them,” Dustin agreed, zipping up his backpack. “Thank you. I’m really sorry you can’t come.”

You shrugged. “Policy is policy,” you said, and ruffled his hair. “Knock ‘em dead, champ.”

“What do you mean we can’t use the room?” Dustin demanded, staring up at the custodian. “I booked it today! I need it!”

The custodian shrugged, grimacing as he turned back to the door. “Pipe’s faulty in there,” he said, scratching under his chin. “We need to seal the area. Should be fine in the morning.” He paused. “You got stuff in there? We can get it out before it gets too wet.”

Dustin groaned. “Party’s off,” he said, crossing his arms across his chest. “Unless you want to play an underwater level.”

Mike sighed. The rest of Hellfire were gathered around the door, looking at it despondently. After a long moment of silence, Eddie turned to them, looking more serious than he ever had before.

“Okay,” he said. “We can use my trailer–” They chorused a cheer, but he held up a hand. “Best behaviour, okay? We spent all week cleaning that thing up, and I can actually see my reflection in the countertops now, so if any of you fuck my hard work up I’ll rip your tiny little balls off.” He paused, and looked at Erica. “Or, uh. Lady balls.”

“Freak,” said Erica.

They piled into Eddie’s van, Dustin calling shotgun, as they careened down the road to Eddie’s trailer park. The windows were open to the trailer, and laundry was hung on the line, Eddie snatching a shirt from it as they walked in. Lucas stared at the pairs of bras dangling from the line. Hold the fucking phone.

“Yeesh, yeesh, keep it down,” Eddie said, settling the kids down at his trestle table. “God, I never should’ve let you guys drink all that Coke. Sugar is bad for you, you know?”

“You’re smoking,” Erica said bluntly, and Eddie nodded sagely.

“That’s because I’m grown,” he told her. “I can do what I like.”

Inside the trailer, Lucas froze. There was a pair of shoes by the door, heeled, small. He blinked. He knew those shoes from somewhere. “Uh, Eddie?” he started, voice small. “Do you have someone over?”

Eddie blinked. “Uh. Just my girlfriend,” he said flippantly, tossing himself onto the sofa and taking a slow drag of his cigarette. “Keep it down for a while, would ya? She had a long night.”

There was silence.

“Your what?” Mike practically yelled, Dustin and Lucas joining. “Since when have you had a girlfriend? Why have you never brought her to Hellfire? What the hell–”

“What the hell is going on?”

Their heads snapped up to see you, standing blearily in Eddie’s doorway and rubbing at one eye with the cuff of Eddie’s shirt, hanging loose over your frame. Dustin screamed. You flinched, before pulling your hand from your face to stare at the group. “Uh.”

There was a long pause.

“You’re not wearing pants,” Erica said, helpfully, and you vanished back into the room with a squeak, before reappearing in a pair of shorts.

“Eddie,” you hissed, and your boyfriend looked at you askance. “Why in the goddamn – cover your ears,” you barked at the kids, “everloving fuck are the kids in the house?”

“That’s not the important question,” Dustin hissed. “What are you doing in Eddie’s trailer?”

Eddie froze, his head darting between the two of you like a lost puppy. “Dude,” Eddie said, looking at Dustin in confusion. “She lives here.”

“She’s your girlfriend?!” Mike demanded, staring at you in shock. You blinked the sleep blearily from your eyes, and head over to the counter, pouring instant coffee into a mug while shooting daggers at Eddie – he was mouthing, sorry sorry sorry. “The assistant librarian?”

“Uh. Yeah?” Eddie said, his eyes jumping from each of the kids’ expressions. “You guys didn’t know?”

“No, we did not know!” Dustin snapped, and you swallowed a tentative sip of coffee, coming out from the kitchen to stand by Eddie. “You never mentioned having a girlfriend!”

“I’m pretty sure I did,” Eddie said, turning around to look at you. You were unimpressed. “I’m literally always saying, I gotta go see my girl, or hey that’s my girl.”

“Oh,” Lucas said dumbly. “I thought that was about your guitar.”

You snorted so hard you felt the coffee shoot up your nose. Dustin looked crushed.

“My gui– You guys seriously think that looking like this, I hadn’t snatched up the prettiest girl in Hawkins High in my time?” Eddie demanded, tugging you by the beltloop of your shorts to come closer to him. “Guys. Come on. I was beating them off with a stick.”

Your hand settled in Eddie’s hair, sleep still making you hazy. “You asked me out fifteen times, Munson,” you muttered, and he swatted at your scratching fingers. “One time you even wrote me a song.”

“Shut up,” Eddie hissed.

“But– we never see you guys together,” Dustin said, voice going slightly shrill at the end. He was alternating between staring at you, and then at Eddie, and then at you, over and over that you thought he’d get motion sickness.

“I’m a librarian,” you said, not unkindly, coming to perch on the arm of the sofa as Eddie’s hand settling lazily across your thighs. “I can’t exactly come sit at the lunch table, Dustin.”

“That checks out,” Lucas muttered to Mike, who was still taking in the scene. “Like. Damn. Uh. Congrats, I guess?”

“Thank you,” Eddie said, sending you a genuinely happy smile before squeezing your thigh. “Sorry for the wakeup, Tinuviel. Hellfire flooded.”

You hissed sympathetically. “Yikes.”

“I’m sorry, this is great and all,” Erica said, and put her hands on her hips. “But are we ever gonna play this campaign? Because there’s an episode of Thundercats tonight, and I never miss Thundercats.”

You bite back a laugh, and disentangle yourself from Eddie. “You guys set up. I’ll –” You glanced back at the kitchen thoughtfully. “Dustin, sweetie, do you like cake?”

“Um.” Dustin blinked a few times. “Yeah?”

“Then happy birthday. I’ll bake you one.” You smiled sweetly as you headed into the kitchen portion of the trailer, sipping your coffee thoughtfully as you heard the boys start to interrogate Eddie about the relationship. “Oh, and Dustin?”

His head snapped up, sheepishly pulling away from where he was furtively whispering with your boyfriend. “Yes?”

You winked. “Save me a seat. Tinuviel’s coming out of the woodwork.”

(You and Eddie had met in middleschool, with his hair buzzed short and yours long enough to reach the small of your back. There was a copy of the Lord of the Rings that was two weeks overdue, after a lot of begging and pleading with Mrs Leibniz (Miss Franks, back then), she had finally released the culprit’s name to you.

You shoved Eddie in the playground and demanded he return the book, standing on top of the sandpit in a blaze of righteous fury.

Eddie asked you to be his girlfriend there and then.

It took three years, ten campaigns, and one drunken proposal after prom night for you to finally say yes.)

#eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female character #eddie munson x female original character #stranger things #guys something i wrong with me

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saiidahyunie · 4 months

Text

pole position

f1 racer!park jihyo x fem!reader || smut

synopsis: what better way to celebrate your racer girlfriend’s first f1 win with a special victory gift from you.

wc: 9.3k

warnings: smut!!! ; almost caught fucking in the van (and elevator) >.< ; edging ; thigh riding ; pussy slapping ; cursing ; mentions of food ; jihyo just being a top ; anything else i should add for a heads up?

a/n: happy birthday to the best leader and one of the most ambitious women i have ever seen in my life. (lowk double triple quadrouple tag teaming w sana momo tzuyu and mina in bias wrecking me)

it seemed like a neverending rush of adrenaline overloading your senses.

luckily, the racing team had accommodated you with noise canceling headphones to save your eardrums from the chaotic noises occurring in the paddock behind you. the low whir of these twenty million spaceship rockets built for the ground to defy physics, along with the many people clamoring over the noises of drills and terms you’ve only heard about for about eight months.

yet, your eyes were glued to the tv screen, watching the broadcast of the race as it neared its thrilling conclusion.

you’ve read the narrative before; park jihyo, your girlfriend, was on the verge of clinching her first ever world championship title for jyp racing in the last race of the regular season. all she needed was to accumulate a few more points and she would have it—or better yet, just win the whole damn race entirely.

on the screen, her car was behind two others in front of her, twisting past another chicane before the track rolled out into a small straight in the second sector of the street circuit. this was the second to last lap, and you could hear the crowd roar in excitement from the grandstands across from you.

in a swift move, jihyo manages to find a gap between the two cars, slotting herself right in to take first position in the long straight. the wheel to wheel contact between other two racers now in her rear view mirror now making up for lost time while jihyo was now running away with the race.

“holy shit!” you hear one of the racing team owners yell out after witnessing the flashy move jihyo did to overtake the two racers in front of her.

“she’s gonna do it oh my god, she’s gonna fucking do it!” nayeon says to you, furiously tapping your shoulder while jeongyeon ran towards the screen to see what had happened.

“what a ballsy move, the racing coaches are losing their shit over it!” jeongyeon yells out as the sound of her car zooms past the grandstand and paddock at light speed.

the other two racers, momo and sana, along with the fourth just trailing behind in tzuyu, were now fighting for second and third. you walk back to the tv screen overhanging the spot where the car was at before the start of the race, seeing that jihyo was following along her own driving line with so much precision—she had the fastest time in qualifying the day before, so there was no surprise that she’d be in first place at the end of all of this.

the pit crew members start to run out to the main track, cheering on for jihyo as she zooms past the starting grid, checkered flag waving from the steward while the whole venue erupted in excitement for their new f1 racing champion.

a victory lap later and you see jihyo with the other three trailing racers make it back to the grid, getting out of her car being mauled by the pit crew members and camera workers. she takes her helmet off, along with the brace that keeps her attached to her seat, waving her hair that was glistening in the lights, making her more ethereal to look at than she already was in that racing uniform.

momo and sana walk up to her, exchanging kind regards and joking amongst each other of how well they each did up until the last quarter miles on the track.

“y/n!”

you turn your head to see tzuyu, jihyo's racing teammate approach you. she’s been a really close friend with you, nayeon, and jeongyeon before she started racing in f1. you and her actually were on the same racing team back in your days with f2, before stepping away from the racing scene entirely to prioritize on other things that needed cultivating.

“that was some nice driving in your second year of competing tzu.” you say, hugging her tightly as nayeon and jeongyeon jumped at you two in the tender moment.

tzuyu raises her helmet in the air, smiling at the crowd as well as the surrounding people near you two before being swept away by her racing team pit crew, “i’ll see you guys at the after party!”

“ahh i’m so excited!” nayeon exclaims, walking past momo and sana’s cars towards jihyo's, who was still getting a well of congratulations from fellow drivers. a guard whispering in her ear that makes her head turn to you three approaching her. a smile is spread across her face as you begin to start running toward your girlfriend.

she sets her helmet in the cockpit of her car, running at the same pace like yours before she jumps into your arms, spinning her around for a second while getting high on the scent of her hair filling your nose. jihyo meets your eye, the small height difference due to her being lifted off the ground by you before leaning in for a well deserved kiss to commemorate her victory.

“congrats babe, you’re officially an f1 champion.” you mumble against her lips, smiling into the kiss more, not giving any mind to the flashing cameras catching you two.

setting her down for another hug, she’s laughing, tears in her eyes, just clearly enjoying the moment that still hasn’t hit her yet.

“oh my god- oh my god.” jihyo chokes out, running her hand through her hair as the noise of the cheers completely drowns everything out.

once everything had calmed down and everyone on the grid had migrated to the podium part that was off the track, you stood to the side along with nayeon and jeongyeon—along with the pit crew members as you watched jihyo raise the trophy to mark the illustrious ending to a fantastic racing season. she’s handed a bottle of champagne that she pops open, spraying it in the crowd below and along with momo and sana, who both finished second and third respectively.

a perfect night indeed, all it needed was the after party activities.

“what am i supposed to do against the fact that jihyo’s car is just a couple seconds faster than mine?” tzuyu asks, walking alongside you with your hands snaked around jihyo’s waist. she was out of her racing attire, wearing a sleek cropped leather racing jacket that showed off her midriff so well and apparently to you–the jacket was part of a new collaboration that she was a part of but didn’t say what it was about.

“it’s not the car, it’s the driver’s intuition to read the track and find the best line for yourself possible.” jihyo says, dropping a hint of knowledge to tzuyu who closes her eyes, accepting the information without putting up an argument.

“y/n would’ve been your rival if she got the call up to one of the other racing teams.”

you eye jihyo who looks down with her eyes closed, a small dimple peeking through that gives you an urge to kiss her cheek impulsively, gripping her side while doing so. it had been a while since you and jihyo had quality time to spend together. now that the season is pretty much over, nothing could hold you back to being with her–no early morning team meetings, no racing sim sessions, just you and jihyo together.

“if i did that, i wouldn’t have met jihyo in the first place.” you say to tzuyu, jihyo tapping your shoulder, blushing at the notion of you being a possible racer going against her, but luckily that wasn’t the case since you were already a long way out from getting a shot for a racing team.

“we could be rivals to lovers if you wanted to! you should’ve! you would’ve made some solid competition.” jihyo says to you, tapping your shoulder again, making you pull her waist closer to you that gets her flustered.

jihyo was reeled in by the way you were adamant with how you showed your affection towards her. those quick glances before entering the cockpit before the race, and even both of your guys’ lockscreens shared a picture of you kissing her helmet as a sign for good luck—knowing that you were already proud of her for what she’s accomplished so far.

intimate moments were always special with jihyo, but since she was now a big time racer and you had her slip under your race lights, she had little to no time for you since this was a make or break season for her racing career–luckily enough, she saw it through in the end.

“i think if i were to race for a team, it would have to be with jihyo, not against.” you chuckle at the end as the five of you reach a designated car that was assigned to take you guys for a post race meal that left your stomachs rumbling.

“y/n and i call the backseats!” jihyo yells out, hand snaking to your hips before she grabs your hand to enter in the fourth row of the van. everyone else followed suit to take the seats in front of you two once inside.

if there was anything about jihyo that you were aware of, it was that the moment you incited anything sexual with her, it would always lead to disaster.

clearly, you had a thing for disasters.

the last time you and jihyo had time to yourselves was after the monaco grand prix. you and her had an argument before the race that lit a fire under jihyo because of how sexually frustrated you became—this caused jihyo to finish on the podium which was a much needed placement in second just behind momo. if she finished third or below, it would’ve put her out of championship contention until the next couple races before las vegas.

after the race, jihyo completely ignored her teams celebratory dinner because she needed to set you straight for getting her horny in a do or die situation. needless to say the morning after, she was well relieved knowing that she fucked you good like there was no tomorrow.

since then, you two haven’t hooked up since—that was three months ago.

the van strolls down the street, the bright lights of the casinos and hotels illuminating through the windows, passing small rays of light to each row evenly.

jihyo catches you through the side of her eye, leaning over for a quick peck to your cheek that makes you giddy, her smiling lips against your face as she pulls you closer, pulling your face away before she could get her lips on them again.

“you’re so concentrated on me now, are you sure you didn’t think about me while you were on the track?” you ask playfully.

jihyo shakes her head, hands still hooking to your waist, forehead against your cap as she laughs again.

“hey, i don’t want to see you guys do anything funny back there.” jeongyeon warns, the light from her phone screen flashed towards you two, causing you to put your hands up to block it.

“we’re not jeong,” jihyo laughs out, grinning at the pair of eyes staring at her in the darkness. “i just missed my girlfriend, that's all.”

“you two have been extra touchy since we got in the car, i’m sure something’s going on.”

“why don’t you just focus on giving directions to the driver for dinner?” you blurt out, tossing your cap towards the front of the car, accidentally hitting nayeon in the back of the head.

“ow! what the hell was that for?!” nayeon yells out, clutching the back of her head in pain.

“sorry, it’s dark in here.” jihyo adds, the whole car laughing out before calming down just seconds later.

you lean back on the seat, eyes on jihyo again. feasting on the eye candy next to you with the racer jacket in all of its glory. her top just stopped a little bit before her abs that were clearly present, the small belly button piercing gleaming in the darkness from the light reflected off of it. you were staring, but jihyo knew that she was attractive.

jihyo scoots next to you, snaking your arm around her hip, nestling herself on your chest and closing her eyes after, descending into the seat more.

“you know,” you whisper to her ear, “i gave the recommendation to put you on the medium soft tires at around lap 30.”

jihyo looks up at you, astounded with what you said, “i was wondering why my car was feeling a little bit lighter after that pit stop.”

you hum against her temple, planting another kiss, “you wanted to keep the hard tires? just make it harder for yourself?”

she chuckles softly, fingers sliding on your neck as every touch that was grazed on your skin felt like electricity to you.

“maybe you wanted something softer…” tension suddenly giving way through your hooded eyes.

jihyo picks up on this and she knows.

“are you talking about soft tires or?”

“i’m talking about this.” you answer her with a whisper, leading her hand under your shirt, only for jihyo to realize that you weren’t wearing a bra under at all that makes her gasp in surprise.

“someone’s a little bold today.” jihyo mutters against your ear, sending chills down your spine as she fondles with your left boob for a bit, pinching the bud of your nipple as the neediness crept through your body like wildfire.

“aren’t you gonna show me how to handle this?” you ask, kissing her temple again before nibbling on her earlobe, jihyo stifling a moan by biting her lip to keep quiet. “i know you want the same thing to happen like in monaco, and you’re gonna give it to me.” you order in her ear.

jihyo was a ticking time bomb when it came to moments like these. the only thing that was on your mind now was how long could she hold out until you two reach the hotel room?

jihyo slides her hand down from your waist to the button of your pants, undoing it with ease with her fingers that makes you giggle a bit, impressed with her sleight of hand.

“don’t tell me you’re not wearing panties under here too?” she whispers in your ear, answering her own question when the pads of her fingertips feeling the lacy piece of garments below, realizing that this wasn’t a usual pair that you wore.

“a little something for you, but you’re gonna have to wait till we get to the suite.” you mumble victoriously—a big mistake as jihyo slides her two fingers over your pulsing core, causing your breath to hitch from the contact, closing your legs a bit to prolong the sensation a little bit more before jihyo stops at your clit.

“let’s not get caught now shall we?”

you were breathless, in the back of a van, with people in front of you, and your girlfriend teasing you at the tips of her fingers—all of this was your doing in the first place.

“jih–fuck you’re—”

“you know how fast our cars were going, imagine if you were against the crash fence and the wind sweeps under?”

this woman, will be the death of you.

“don’t get me tempted now, you still have something for me to show later right?” jihyo mutters against your neck before sliding down to your soaked panties, seamlessly pulling it to the side before slipping a finger in your pussy that makes you gasp out loudly.

“everything okay back there?”

you place your hand over your mouth to keep yourself quiet from moaning, jihyo lets out an ‘uhh’ before answering, “y/n just dropped something here, i’m picking it up.” a clear lie as she continues her long middle finger inside you, hips gyrating to add more spice to the movement that’s keeping your lips parted.

“so pretty for me…” jihyo licks your neck, making your shiver in the seat, “when you’re like this.”

fuck, this was going a lot more better than you expected.

the soft heavy, breaths fill the cushioned interior of the van as it drives in the late night. jihyo was unrelenting by stimulating you, rubbing your cilt in addition to her finger pumping inside. your pulsing is starting to quicken at your core, thighs slightly shaking knowing that your high was nearing, but you used everything you had to not let that happen.

jihyo realizes this, and she too wants this to be saved for later. so she slips her hand out from your panties, perfect timing as the van reaches its destination—a shabu place that was recommended by nayeon. mouths needed to be fed, but yours and jihyo’s were craving for a different meal in mind.

as the van pulls up to the parking lot, jihyo jumps at you in the seat, lips crashing against hers. you cup her cheeks, jihyo’s hands get tangled in your hair, both of you are matching the same energy and destitution. tongues swiping each other like a sword fight, gripping her leather jacket as your other hand snakes to her neck.

she’s fast, she’s needy and my god you need her to be like this with you more often.

you two hear the van stop in parking gear, and jihyo pulls away, looking towards the front to see that everyone in the rows ahead were starting to get their stuff and head outside. the both of you sit up, hands scrambling to have everything look presentable to the best extent before stepping out.

jihyo exits the van, letting out a sigh while meeting with nayeon, jeongyeon, and tzuyu outside.

“what happened with y/n?” tzuyu asks at the sight of you stepping out, cheeks clearly stained with a blush of pink, hair tosuled with your hat at an angle, and the worst part of all, your pants were unbuttoned for the whole world to see.

“oh, she just got a little car sick, that's all.” jihyo replies swiftly, making you lean over to sell the act. “i don’t think we’ll be able to eat with you guys tonight.”

the small group groans out, unhappy with the shock announcement as you faked a clear cough, grasping at your stomach with one eye closed.

“sorry guys,” you huff out. “i think being in the back row was a terrible idea for us.”

terrible. you’re clearly mistaken, it was the best fucking idea to nearly get caught by your closest friends in a moving car getting edged to oblivion.

“alright, we’ll see you back at the airport y/n, make sure you get some rest.” nayeon says, patting your shoulder in comfort while faked being woozy, nearly losing your balance. jihyo catches you, letting out a small laugh once she set up upright.

“so silly of you to be on your phone the entire ride baby.” jihyo coos out, rubbing your face, enjoying the pampering that she’s giving you with both of her hands tapping your cheeks.

“can we go now?” you say, tugging at jihyo’s racer jacket with the most babyish face you could ever pull out of your ass—all for the lie you think, but jihyo plays along just well.

“okay okay, we’ll see you guys soon okay?!” jihyo asks the trio of girls in front of you guys, waving as the both of you walk back to the van.

“get better y/nnnnn!” tzuyu yells out before you wave back at them with both eyes closed, jihyo escorting you to the seat before mashing her face with yours again.

“such,” jihyo mumbles against your cheek, “a naughty girl for me.” pulling away with an audible smooch.

“you wanted your gift? i think you’ll like what i have for you.”

“i can hardly wait.”

jihyo’s assault on your body picks up right where it left off on the swift ride back to the hotel. luckily, your chauffeur was walled off in the front of the car with a soundproof window that was rolled all the way up—this meant the moans you’ve been holding back earlier could now be let out to its fullest content to jihyo’s ears with ease.

she starts by pinning you on the chair, hands snaking up under your shirt to clasp at your breasts. her hands weren’t the biggest, but they fit on your chest oh so perfectly as she massages them, earning another moan through your lips against hers.

“fuck ji–ah!”

“shhh, save it for the room baby.”

oh she’s getting you race ready. i mean, that’s the name of her game after all.

your lips clash again, hands splayed on her back, stripping the unreleased racer jacket off of her to reveal a simple black tank top underneath—a tight fitted one that made jihyo’s boobs a lot more bigger than they originally were. this catches your eye, causing to pull away, biting her lip and tugging at it as your hands slide up against the skimpy fabric keeping her boobs hostage.

“my my world champ, you had these under your uniform and jacket the whole time?”

“i know you love my boobs baby, they’re always there for you to grab a feel.”

indulging was something that you were always good at, jihyo just waved the green flag for you to slide your hands up even further, thumbs bruising over her clothed nipple as you heard her breath hitch at the slightest touch at them.

despite laying on the seat, you found it paramount to return the same sort of pleasure in your position to jihyo as much as you could, leaning up to plant your lips at her neck, slightly nibbling at it while your hands kept themselves occupied by massaging her tits.

“ngh, y/n baby…” jihyo says, her head dips even deeper next to yours, continuing to mark her up, making up for lost time like her qualifying races to get the highest placement before race day.

“let me work you up too, relax.” you groan against her neck, causing her to whimper at the feeling of your lips sliding down her neck to the outfaced bone of her clavicle. while that was happening, you lift your leg up, shifting it over to her ass, your thigh pressing against her core through her jean shorts, making her moan against your ear that might’ve made you cum right then and there from the sound.

jihyo then stops you from sucking away from her neck to the point that she might have to have a better cover when her race coach kangin asks about it the next time she sees him, tapping your shoulder to lay your head back, crashing her lips with yours again, pecking left and right until the van does sudden stops and turns.

the both of you start to sit up, jihyo having the higher position, looking at the window to only realize that they’ve made it back to the hotel that you and her were staying at. she gets off of your body, grabbing her racing jacket and zipping it up to cover the action that was happening below her neck as damage control.

you fix your appearance as well, fixing your shirt and hat to make it look more presentable once the van comes to a complete stop and the both of you calm down from the second round of ‘whatever the hell this game of playing: who’s gonna break first from kissing, sucking, and getting the other person horny first’ stepping out of the van and into the lobby with hands twined with each others.

you’ve watched jihyo zoom past the track during the qualifying race the day prior to get first place against the nineteen best drivers in the world, but this woman who's leading you by the hand through the hotel lobby might have just set a new record full stop with how fast the two of you walked from the van to the elevator in record time.

if you were to look back at this night and one were to ask what happened on the way to the room? you’d say that it’s the vaguest gray area in your memory that you’ve probably had ever really. you and jihyo share a laugh at you almost slipping in your chunky converse shoes in contrast to jihyo’s boots, her hand on your waist while yours was hovering just above her butt. the elevator greeted you with no visitors–a perfect setting for the prelude of tonight’s prime time events that you’ve waited for so long.

“so no more races for the time being right?” you ask jihyo, her back turned to yours tapping on the panel to the floor of your room.

“for now, but i do want to have a joyride session on that track outside the city.” jihyo answers, scratching her head now facing you, before you pull her in for a hug, jihyo shifts herself again so that she’s now facing the elevator door.

the metal box continues to ascend up slowly to the level–the highest level of the hotel to be exact, all part of your plan to keep jihyo’s motor running.

jihyo exhales out, a hint of tiredness peeking as she rubs your hand with her thumb, humming along with the soft jazzy music that was coming out of the small speaker on the top right of the elevator wall. you lean your head to her right side, blowing air to the side of her face that makes her chuckle at the intimate action.

“you know,” you whisper, “i overhead that you were almost told to give the position back to momo after backing out on her challenge on turn 11.”

“but i didn’t.” jihyo replies, “the officials looked over that contact play thoroughly and i just kept my ground. sana caught up to us though and eventually i fell behind after oversteering one corner.”

“and you still won.” you say, pressing a kiss to her neck.

jihyo sighs out after closing her eyes, and she might just fall asleep with you right then and there.

“since you didn’t give up the position, i’ll give you something else.” you mumble against her ear, hands snaking up to hold her tits under her jacket.

“oh? and what that might be that you plan on giving me?”

you couldn’t help but chuckle at her oblivious question, playing along to your act in this whole script that was devised in your head, a perfect ending–consider this to be the ninth symphony of beethoven’s repertoire.

jihyo was five lights away glowing red and you pushed the crushing blow–the green light that jihyo has been waiting for all night.

“i’ll give you my lips.”

jihyo smiles with her teeth out to the world behind you, turning you around, lips on yours again for what seems to be the infinite time tonight, but this lip lock was more serious. pure lust had taken over jihyo like the adrenaline that rushed in her veins while racing earlier.

your back makes contact with the wall behind you, her leg slots itself in between yours, pressing against your core as a get back for the same thing you did to her in the van, earning a moan into her lips that just simply upped the ante within jihyo.

she pulls away eyes hooded, breaths matching together and they’re fucking heavy. the pace was overwhelming to jihyo’s resurgence in sexual frustration—to be fair, you were the one to start things in the first place so this shouldn’t come as a shock to you.

in a millisecond of being off guard, jihyo forces herself on you, pinning your wrists to the wall, whining at the sudden grip your girlfriend was giving you, her mouth slashing at the new territory claimed with her tongue leading the charge.

retreating with a ‘pop’ of the lips, followed by another quick peck with a slight tug at the end before making her way down to your neck for another bombardment of marks awaiting your flesh.

“j-jihyo, y-y-you—fuck!”

a clear ‘mmph’ could be heard as jihyo sucks away at your neck, smiling against it as she develops a steady rhythm. a bite here followed by a suck, and another bite followed by a second suck to soothe it.

“you gave me the green light, so don’t back down now.” jihyo mutters against your neck, the scent of your expensive perfume filling her nose and taste buds.

letting out a laugh with a moan mixed into your vocal chords, jihyo continued her work for what seemed like ages, only for her to stop to kiss you again as the elevator dings loudly, indicating that you two have reached the level that your hotel room was at. jihyo steps away from you, leaning back a bit to admire the damage that she had inflicted upon your face and neck—for now.

she then takes your hand, leading to where your room was a few steps away from the lounging area that was across from the set of elevators. you catch a couple glimpses of your reflections and you smile at your devious but perfectly executed plan.

your hat was the only thing covering your disheveled hair, lips were puffy swollen, and the marks. the marks. ‘jesus christ’ was the thought exactly at the sight of your neck being spread evenly out with red and the appearance definitely made you feel the way that it should.

a quick swift of the keycard over the lock and you usher jihyo inside the room that you two were staying at. housekeeping did their handiwork cleaning up the room; the king size bed neatly made with all of the assorted bags left untouched on the right side where the tv was hanging.

jihyo slides off her racer jacket, setting it on the chair while you went to the bathroom to freshen yourself up a bit while jihyo relaxed on the edge of the bed, discarding her boots by kicking them off under the desk. she then leans back, her head looking up to the ceiling above, her eyes closed in complete relaxation after a full day of logistical racing from the moment she got up from the bed this morning.

surely that team dinner would be postponed until probably tomorrow given how tired jihyo was, right?

(that tiredness would suddenly wash away when you stepped out the bathroom.)

she sees you leaning against the wall, nothing except the lacy panties that jihyo felt back in the van earlier on the way to the shabu place. your back was arching away from the wall with your ass still pressed against it, forming a figure in the low light emulating from the lamp behind.

this image of you in front of jihyo had her salivating, lips parted with a small creeping beneath it as you made your way to the bed’s edge. her hands wrapping around your exposed waist, with your hands nestling themselves at her neck. jihyo was still speechless, eyes widened to the max while you prompted her hands to roam freely as they pleased–now with the proper privacy, there was nothing holding her back from ravishing you.

“somebody’s a little preoccupied.”

jihyo looks up at you, her pupils dilated at the sight of you towering over her for a moment.

“fuck you’re so pretty.” jihyo responds, leaving a chaste kiss to your midsection, arms pulling you closer to her so that she can indulge more in your body.

there’s something about the way her hands move, finding the right spots across your abs and back for you to let out a hitched breath or a sound of approval from your lips, lightly nipping away at the skin that was left unmarked from earlier on the way back that wasn’t your neck or face. her reactions were stupid fast when it came to racing, but now she was taking her time. scouting the valleys and curves on your body, just below your breasts.

“who said that you could stop?” you giggled, initiating a squeeze from jihyo the second after, feeling your perky mounds to her own volition.

“can’t believe you’re so perfect for me like this.” jihyo husks out, eliciting a soft moan to leave your mouth, dipping your head to give a kiss on the top of her head. you then tap her shoulders twice, stopping her movements. stepping away to get something from the mini fridge that was hidden away next to the main dresser, a bottle of rare champagne that would probably be worth half of jihyo’s salary, so you bought it under her name for this special occasion.

“aw for me?” jihyo pouts, “if this was your celebratory gift i think we should just call it a night then.”

“obviously not,” you say, “what do you take me as?”

“i don’t know, maybe you’re just a stranger who’s staying in my room with me.”

“we’re celebrating your first world championship, just with my own little twist to it.” you respond, cracking the bottle open and handing her a glass that was filled to the brim for her to drink.

“uh y/n, you know i can’t finish this right?”

“oh i know,” you say, “i just have other uses for that.” jihyo then takes a quick swig of the rare-aged champagne, sighing out after downing nearly half the glass in one gulp, giving it back for you to finish the rest before placing it down on the table.

jihyo doesn’t pick up on this until the very last second, the sight of you straddling her with the bottle of champagne, her hands finding themselves holding you at the hips. you lean down for another lip lock with jihyo again, her fingers clutching down your pelvis trying to get something started. the heat is rushing down all over your body, a growing sensation from below building up, it took everything in your body to not feed into jihyo’s desire.

you pull away to see jihyo’s dilated pupils, yours was doing the same. the heavy breaths were not helping as the tension rose in the space between you two once again. you give her another kiss before leaning back, raising the bottle a little bit over your chest, spilling the expensive alcohol over your body. jihyo doesn’t react to this either, she was too attracted to your image at the moment–the marks on the neck and chest, the way you were above jihyo with a gaze that made you ten-thousand times hotter than she initially thought. it was an overload, but you finally gave her the edging push that broke down her self control.

“taste me baby, i need to be cleaned up anyway…”

jihyo doesn’t hesitate for a single second, diving right in immediately after you said that, dragging her tongue across your chest, before kissing in between the middle part where your cleavage was. bathing in sweet champagne wasn’t an idea you were forward with, but clearly jihyo was loving the whole act you were putting on for her.

“fuck jihyo–ah!” you moaned out while jihyo gave out satisfying lick after satisfying lick, leaving no spot open. she then changes the ante, taking your erected nipple and closing her mouth over it.

she continues this for a couple more minutes, a trail of pecks across your body as jihyo continues to mark her territory.

“is this ‘mmph–” jihyo mumbles in between kisses, “my prize?”

“i’m all yours for tonight hyo, ruin me.”

jihyo scans your body once more, deciding what to do first with you before instinctively forcing your hips down to her thigh. your core making contact with the skin that makes you yelp in surprise. this also didn’t help that jihyo lifted her leg up a bit, shifting your hips in a back and forth motion that makes you groan–longing for more, biting your lip as jihyo revels at the heavenly sounds that she’s hearing.

“you like grinding your pussy on my thigh like that baby?”

“jihyo you’re such a–”

she shuts you up with a kiss, making you release a low whimper as you grind against her toned leg with your clothed cunt.

“keep moving and don’t stop.”

fuck.

your eyes catch jihyo licking her first two fingers, placing it upright against her leg where your pussy was making contact, sliding along your folds through the fabric—hips buckling at the angle that she made her fingers curve a bit, teasing you till the very end.

“you really want me inside that badly huh?” jihyo asks, the neediness clouding your head at the sound of her low voice. “so fucking wet for me after your little stunt in the van?”

yeah, you’re so fucked tonight.

jihyo raises her middle finger above the others as the throbbing doubles in an instant. your head leans back as jihyo kisses your clavicle—your senses now overloading as you rode her finger which were now ripping away at you, her other hand moving your hips, shaky breaths petering out while jihyo circles your clit.

she watches you with a feasting intent, the lust oozing through as you fuck yourself on her thigh, unclasping her bra with just one hand while keeping her eyes on you. she then positions her thumb where your clit was landing, now pressing against it when you’re dragging your hips on her

“fuck fuck fuck–”

“yeah, i know you couldn’t resist fucking my fingers.”

“god, jihyo you– shit”

“mhm,” jihyo hums out, “you’re so close baby.”

you curse out, basically shouting to nearby hotel guests staying on the floor. the words wobbling out of your mouth as jihyo worked your lower body. the desperation was there—all jihyo just needed to was force it out of you, in this case she did. you squirmed under her touch, gasping at the sensation with your stomach churning away in pleasure.

jihyo withdraws her hand away from the problem that’s bothering you between your legs, making you whine, the sound almost like a confused kid that got their toy taken away after being in trouble. snickering at your act, you slap her shoulders lightly, playfully complaining as jihyo kisses you again to calm down.

“you’re so-”

“i’m giving you what you want, no? jihyo goes for another kiss.

she isn’t wrong.

“i thought you said that you were going to be my special present for tonight?”

you nod.

“that’s what i thought, now relax for me babe.”

god. you are so done for.

the pillows behind jihyo are met with your back against them, switching the places between you two as she crawls up your body, her knees between your legs as she leaned down for another kiss, hair getting tangled through your fingers, jihyo continuing her assault on your face and body with her lips.

“i’m gonna treat you good okay?”

you whimper in agreement, nodding your head as jihyo lowers her gaze, a smirk plowing through as she runs her hand on your face, cheeks flooded hot pink, placing her lips on your neck again before trailing down your body very slowly.

jihyo is satisfied with how you are under her touch, but she always, always wants more for herself. her lips find themselves on your breasts again like earlier, returning the attention to your nipples while massaging your soft mounds. she knows that you’re gonna give into her desires—there’s no point in putting up a fight against her (you did the same thing to her back in monaco, but now the roles were reversed.)

mindlessly putting a hand to the back of her head, jihyo notes this, canvassing your body with her lips in every corner that she could possibly touch. she’d seen you model for underwear brands and daily outfits of the day on your instagram page, but when it came to the bed, jihyo memorized every soft spot there was to discover–she knew how to push your buttons and it showed.

“you know what i want.” you’re practically begging for jihyo at this point.

she happily hums out, ready to fufill the obligation. leaving your boobs down to your waist, trailing lower and lower. you try to look away, eyes shut from the sensing danger—the need to be everso fulfilled immediately. there’s a pause for a few seconds as jihyo hooks her hands to the tops of your thighs, staring at the underwear that you were weaning.

and you just had to look up.

you see her eyes filled with so much lust between your pulsing core, placing a kiss on your inner thigh, shuddering at the contact of her lips, inching closer to the middle, but she stops again with a smirk and you are left breathless.

“i didn’t know you were wearing the unreleased pair today.”

“you still have to post your announcement tomorrow, so i had to remind you somehow.”

jihyo looks away, keeping her eyes on you, rather impressed at the effort you made, especially in a scenario like this.

“i have an idea for the picture already, but i’m gonna need this back.”

her fingers found the elastic waistband of the lacy calvin klein underwear that was keeping your pussy hostage from jihyo’s lips, pulling it down slightly, but it was what she did next that made everything in your body race.

she pulls it down a little bit past your upper thigh, grabbing it with her teeth and pulling it away, her hands sliding down your legs as well in one smooth motion. the satisfaction clearly seen in her eyes once the panties were tossed off to somewhere in the room that won’t be found until sometime in the morning.

this totally won’t come back to haunt you later, right?

you didn’t have to say anything, jihyo makes her way up your inner thighs again, the trail of kisses approaching the sensitive spot as she takes in the aroma of your sex, getting drunk in the sensation of it before placing a kiss to your wetness.

“shit.” you mumble, your teeth catching your lip. whatever worries you had about earlier today or the flight you’re taking back home tomorrow, none of that mattered as jihyo’s instinct to please herself by having you destroyed was all that mattered. jihyo grunts against your heat, the vibrations from your cunt bucking your hips from the contact as her tongue lashes mercilessly inside you.

“fucking hell jihyo you really–fuck!”

the encouragement only pushes jihyo to get more out of you. pressing your legs to her head to lock her down in place, hands on your hips in a better position. “god, please. please.” you’re begging to let go under jihyo’s will, but it won’t be that easy to meet her needs.

“so good jihyo, g-god you’re so g-good nnh”

jihyo detaches her lips from your swollen clit, sliding her finger over your folds, fingertips getting soaked with your seeping liquid. your hips are off the bed, eyes rolling back from the overstimulating feeling of getting edged for the second time. it was all head racking, your voice filled with needy gasps that jihyo finds thrilling—for you to be all dumb for your girlfriend and it really is something to behold about if you’re jihyo.

“fuck me please. i need you, just don’t be a bit-”

jihyo slaps your pussy in retaliation to your needy attitude; the first and only warning you’re getting from her.

“i’m gonna go along as i please, you don’t have a say on whether or not i get to fuck you dumb, i do.”

she doesn’t hesitate after she says that, slapping your pussy again to make you yell at the sharp pain coming from your hips.

“you’re gonna be a good girl for me. before, during, and after i ruin you.”

two fingers slipped inside of you, knowing that you were already primed and ready from jihyo’s bombardment of lips and nipping of your skin regardless if she gave you the heads up or not.

“yes! please, i need more–” you rasp out at the curling fingers of jihyo in your pussy, followed by her lips nibbling away at your clit. she speeds up the motions, building up a consistent rhythm to follow–her own driving line in tearing you up.

there’s no delay for however long jihyo pleased you for her own pleasure. in, out. in and out. she continues to dive right in with her attention to detail, mouth and fingers working in complete cohesion like her pit crew, higher and higher the tempo increases until–

“wait- sh- i’m gonna– i’m gonna– ah i’m gonna—”

your hips drag to the shape of jihyo’s fingers, jumping and twitching—fighting down the moan in her throat until it all comes down the highest apex that jihyo could create.

“yes yes yes– oh my go-ah! i’m cumming!” you could barely manage, and jihyo believes this to be true, eyes widening at the juices flowing down to her mouth, pulling away as she rubs your pussy furiously. “fuck i’m cumming – jihyo i’m cumming—”

“such a good girl y/n; keep cumming for me.”

the climax was well worth the time dragged out, your body still stuttering and sensitive to the touch even after jihyo’s fingers were pulled out from you. your eyes return back to their normal state, as your mouth was still parted open, looking at jihyo examining the slick from you all webbed up on her fingers, laying beside you with a kiss to your cheek and her hand to your mouth.

“suck it off for me baby.”

you don’t say anything but open your mouth, receiving your own taste from jihyo’s fingers as she watches you lick up every spot that was soaked with your cum, giving her a seductive look in her eyes that makes her own cunt throb at the sight of you.

“shit y/n.” jihyo mutters, withdrawing her fingers from your mouth before kissing you sloppily, breaths between you two were still heavy and filled with a sense of hunger that had been there before, but now the desire was raised up to eleven.

“flip over baby, let me see you from behind.” she purrs out, giving you space by getting on her knees while you roll over. your legs were already smoothened like water–belly down, ass up. the desperation for more was there– your body completely reduced to jelly as jihyo felt out your waist, kneading your ass.

there’s a pause for a brief moment, jihyo runs her hand through her hair, taking in the sight of your back all there in its basking glory, biting her lip before leaning down to plant a trail of kisses down your spine, each kiss making you pant more loudly than the last.

“this view never gets old for me you know?” she murmurs, and all you could produce with your mouth was a muffled whine into the pillow. jihyo’s skin makes contact with yours, arching your back slightly as jihyo presses down on the small of your back.

“please baby,” is all you can plead through the covers–the only offering you have to give is your body molded into the mattress.

jihyo would draw out more of your begging, but she knew that she wanted to have more fun with you, slipping inside you again with a single finger to start, letting out a wail while shoving your face into the sheets more to keep it down, but jihyo wasn’t having any bullshit of playing it safe.

dragging her finger out, her other hand reaches for you hair, making you look up–eyes shut with a gasp of air with your legs coming up as well in response to the rough handling of you.

“i thought i told you to be a good girl for me y/n, you don’t get to have the patience for me tonight.”

a sob leaves your lips, with your back arching even more up as jihyo tosses your head back to the mattress looking out to the side—slipping two curled fingers inside, resisting the urge to grab jihyo’s arm to pick up the pace.

“yes yes. oh my gah-” the whines are barely understandable, throwing your hips back to meet jihyo’s hand down the middle. your walls getting more and more slicker with each thrust inching deeper and deeper.

jihyo palms her free hand down on your back, setting you in place. a piton in the rock as a stepping point as your cunt is being stretched by three fingers. “you’re so good when you’re like this.”

you’re saying nonsense, jihyo’s smiling at the image of you getting completely blown out under her ingrained into her head. it’s sloppy, the strokes are getting too much to bear–the sheets are crinkled to the point where it shouldn’t even be on the bed anymore.

“fuck jihyo, please so close– ‘unna cum again–”

jihyo leans forward to your ear, not letting up on the pressure of her three fingers inside of you—shifting your head to meet hers on the left side so that she can hear your huffing moans more clearly. “yeah? i love when you sound like this–all fucked out for me that you’re begging for more?”

don’t stop. please it’s so fucking amazing.

“jih–hngh! please, fuck - its so - ngh, god i ca-”

your lidded eyes meet hers that were burning with lust, throwing your hips back continuously for a couple more seconds, whimpering through your open lips–fervently shaking at jihyo’s fingers giving one more curl at your g-spot, pushing you to the edge.

“mmmph fuck god-”

and just like that, your walls clamp down around jihyo’s fingers–closing your legs from her underhand grip to prolong the feeling. she slides her hands out of your worked cunt, hips shaking even with your ass up in the air before crumbling down to the mattress beneath you.

jihyo gives you some space again, dismounting from your lower thighs, as it took almost the remaining strength you had left to lay upright, the sensation from two orgasms back to back (this was still the beginning of the ‘night’ so there was a lot more in store soon.) the afterglow looked heavenly on you as jihyo laid right next to you, pressing her lips against your jaw while you hummed out despite your disheveled state.

“so pretty…” she whispers to you, meeting your eyes for another sloppy kiss and massages your scalp while your breathing returns to normal. you lean up jihyo’s chest as you close your eyes for a few moments, enjoying the embrace that you’ve missed so much from her until tonight.

“fuck,” you sigh out, still trembling and already fucking sore, but jihyo knew that there was still work to be done with you, and she knew that you were aiming for a fair trade of pleasure.

“you ready to go for another one?” jihyo asks you, rubbing your boob with her finger, grazing your nipple again, lightly pinching it. you stayed still for a second before jihyo would be caught off guard with the surge of control that flowed through your body.

in a split second you flip jihyo over, hovering over her body while you dive back for another kiss, biting her lip again before lowering yourself to her pulse point at the neck, earning a moan of approval from her,

“why don’t you explain to me about the future plans of jyp’s racing team while i eat you out?” you ask in between kisses as you make your way down, keeping your eyes with jihyo’s while sliding off her jorts and panties, raising her legs up in the air–a complete dynamic switch from her being on top of you to sinking into the mattress.

jihyo is left flustered at your request, knowing that her special present for winning the race would have her running laps for the entire night.

a PA system is overheard announcing a departing flight from las vegas to somewhere out in the east coast that was probably a connecting flight, but it wasn’t yours.

“so, i think everything went well with the after party two days ago.” your eyes lock onto nayeon who was sipping away a thai tea drink, scrolling away on her phone while you look at your laptop that showed the picture of jihyo getting drenched in champagne at the podium ceremony.

“i think the hangover is still lingering.” you hear tzuyu say, patting her shoulder out of genuine comfort for your close racing friend. now that the offseason was underway, it was a definite break for the drivers to get the downtime that they so thoroughly deserved after a long season, and before you know it, it’ll come back around again.

“i thought jeongyeon was gonna be with us.” you say to nayeon, looking up from her phone to meet your gaze with those round glasses of her’s that just fit her vibe so well.

“it actually turns out that she met someone at the club last night, so she’s gonna stay with her for another day or two.”

“does her someone have a name?”

“mina, i think.”

interesting news of development from your close circle of friends. speaking of developments–

tzuyu scrolls away on instagram, noticing a picture from jihyo’s profile that made her gasp out in public, a few surrounding people from the seating area behind you three taking notice of her being startled.

“what happened tzuyu?”

“jihyo’s the new ambassador for calvin klein?!”

you act shocked, but you already knew the news and to be fair, you did remind her that night about announcing it.

“really!? let me see.” nayeon asks, tzuyu handing the phone to her for nayeon to have a look, her mouth forming an o in surprise to how she announced it.

once you saw the picture, you didn’t think anything of it–until you got a second glance at what it actually was.

the picture was set in the hotel room, a familiar hotel room. the curtains were parted as the morning after that certain night was a cloudy morning–a perfect backdrop for a spontaneous photoshoot. jihyo stands at the window with her back facing the camera arms raised with the view behind her. she was wearing nothing but the same fucking lacy panties that jihyo drew down your legs with just her teeth. her bare back clearly toned showing in the picture and with a large CK on the corner of the photo.

“how come we didn't see you back at the hotel room y/n?” nayeon asks you, looking at the photo again with tzuyu’s phone in your hand still.

“well...” you try to answer, still thinking about that night–the sounds of grunts and moans filing your head, the sight of jihyo's face completly wrecked at the sight of fucking you before snapping out of it.

“you still haven’t told us what you were doing that night when we were supposed to eat out.”

"i thought i told you guys that ji-"

tzuyu gasps again, but this time in a more quiet manner.

“what is it?” nayeon gasps again at tzuyu’s small scare.

“look what i noticed in the bottom corner of the picture.”

tzuyu points at bottom corner, a small circular mirror on the table. the reflection from that said mirror shows a person wearing a red and black racer jacket with a smile creeping through at the very top of the mirror. their neck riddled with marks all over and the jacket not zipped up, exposing a little bit of their breasts in between.

“i know that smile from anywhere, and that jacket really looks familiar.”

“she’s not even wearing anything under that jacket either!”

the two girls look at you, a beaming smile on both of their faces with the tsunami of questions that they were going to sweep you in.

easy to say that jihyo’s underwear model announcement on her instagram page after winning the formula one championship was nothing more than a simple photo finish.

#jihyo day!!!!!!#saiiidahyunee #twice x reader #kpop x reader #kpop smut #twice smut #twice jihyo #park jihyo #jihyo smut #jihyo x reader #streaming zone until i pass out studying

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m-ayo-o · 4 months

Text

~ satoru gojo's girlfriend gets a nice surprise ~ nsfw cw : sex, creampie, public touching, cum eating >//< drunk 'driving' !

Satoru turns up at your place in his self-driving car asking if you wanna go for a spin, only for him to pull you onto his lap when he's set the car on auto.

"Wait!! Oh my god-" you give him a frantic look when he lets go of the steering wheel, but he just swings his seat back and gives you an easy smile.

You're straight up straddling him now, and he's not even looking at the road as you travel at speed down the highway.

"Sa-Satoru-" you cast your head over your shoulder to look at the road, where it's pretty clear and open.

"Honey," he pulls your attention back and starts grinding himself between your legs, "why else would I get a driverless car?"

"I-- I, for... convenience? You could use your phone and-"

"No, I got it for fucking."

Of course, with your numerous parties and events to go to, you usually end up giving him a hand job during the journey anyway. Your pretty playboy has plenty of flashy cars, their plush seats often left covered in yours and his cum from where he shoves his long fingers inside you on the passenger seat.

But now he gets the full thing. He couldn't help himself. He bought one as soon as they were available, got everything set up and went to pick up his sweetheart.

And here you are, sitting pretty on his rising boner, trying to deny him? Oh no. He won't allow it.

"Satoru, is, is it dangerous??"

He's getting impatient now and he can't be bothered to explain the inner workings of this vehicle to you before he fulfills his fantasy of making you cum on his dick at 80mph.

"Baby," he reaches for your blouse and tugs you down suddenly, making you let out a sweet yelp and grab onto his chest, "just come here already, won't you let me have my fun?"

He kisses away your uncertain look and soon your body is heating up just how he wants. He drags your panties down and slips his cock out, plunging it under your skirt and rubbing himself up and down your slit. He smirks at the delicious moan that leaves your lips as he pumps his tip through your entrance, sliding his long inches inside you.

"Ride me," he orders, pushing you up again, and you squeal when he rips your shirt open with your tits spilling out, hands flying to your chest to cover yourself.

"Tinted windows, sugar, let me see."

He pulls your hands down and starts moving his hips, until you obey him and start bouncing up and down his length.

His smooth tip buries into your cervix and his eyes roll back as he emits a dirty groan.

"Baby, fuck yeah~"

But he's not satisfied till he's got you shaking on his cock, lips quivering with his name as the car speeds down the road.

Your eyes start darting around, finding the passengers in the passing cars who are completely oblivious to what you're doing.

But he can't stand you looking away from him.

So he fucks his hips into you harshly, making you whimper and duck down so you don't hit your head.

"Eyes on me, pretty."

He commands and your attention is his for the rest of the journey. You kiss his jaw and mark his gorgeous neck, tonguing his prominent adams apple and stripping his crisp, white shirt away to find his muscular chest.

Your hands are in his hair and his dick is hitting you so good, until you realise the car is slowing down and telling you that you're arriving at your destination. A friend's house.

"Fuck- here already-" he moans and brings his hands to your ass where he spreads your cheeks and guides you over his cock.

He speeds up, knowing he needs to cum soon or you're going to be sat on your friend's driveway with the car bouncing, not leaving much to anybody's imagination. Not that he'd care.

"Baby, baby can you- can you cum for me one more time?" He breathes out your name and almost begs you, and you're close anyway, from his abdomen rubbing your clit. So you guide his fingers between you and he circles your clit quickly, keeping up his intense pace as he fucks you into a deep, head spinning orgasm.

"Th-that's it- fuck-" now he's the one shaking under you, his balls twitching and his shaft surging with hot, milky cum, "you wan' it?"

"uh huhhhuhhhh-"

He can't control himself now, seeing your mouth hang wide with another sensual moan and feeling your pussy suck him in.

"C-cumming- shiiiittt--"

You milk him slow until your body grinds to a halt, just as the car stops and the engine turns itself off.

You're panting and kissing for a moment, until you start redressing each other. He pulls your panties up and tells you to keep his cum inside.

He puts his shades on and undoes another button, proudly showing off the marks as he walks into the party with your ass in his hand.

"Don't let it spill, baby."

He tells you as you climb out of the car, looking a little dishevelled. You straighten up your hair and fix your makeup but you fear it may be in vain, as you feel his cum trickling down your legs and his hair is a complete mess with red and pink hickeys all over his neck.

He later dives under your skirt from behind, with your back facing a wall, toying with the slick mess in your pussy while you try to maintain a casual conversation over champagne.

He can't stand the way your voice starts to break and dip so he drags you to the bathroom and eats your pussy, finally cleaning up the mess he made and putting you back together again.

You leave the party in the early hours- and you know it's definitely still illegal- but you're both tipsy, getting in the car and letting it drive you home while you fuck one more time, drunk, horny and messy.

satoru | m.list

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #female reader #18+ content #satoru x reader #satoru smut #satoru gojo #satoru imagine #gojo satoru #gojou satoru x reader

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python333 · 9 months

Text

need a ride? — python333

— — — —

synopsis ur walking home from school and theres a weirdo following you, luckily the 141 are there and they help u out!! :3

relationships platonic!taskforce 141 & gn!reader.

characters cap. price, soap (for like 2 seconds, so sorry soap enjoyers), ghost, gaz.

word count 2.4k

warnings a creepy old man following [reader], [reader] intended to be in high school, 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of y/n [your name].

note i have like 5 drafts and all of them are requests from people so im so sorry i havent been working on those!! i pinky prom once i get the motivation to write them--which probably sounds weird since i wrote this but trust me when i had to force myself to write this lmao--i will be posting them :3 i hope u all enjoy this fic, its all fluff and emotional hurt/comfort + protective-ish 141!!

You really wish you had listened to that first warning light.

For a whole two days, your car had been in an auto repair shop, because you decided to ignore four whole warnings signs that something was seriously wrong with your car. Suspension and alignment issues, they’d told you yesterday, The wheels need to be realigned, the damaged suspension components need to be replaced, and the whole thing would take a day or two.

Fast forward to now, it’s 3:30 in the afternoon and you’ve been walking from school to your house for about ten minutes. The sun is close to being fully set—one of the worst parts of winter—and there’s been a guy following you for about five minutes now.

He showed up once you’d exited the school premises and since then had been very determined to follow you home. You obviously did not want this to happen. But it didn’t matter if you walked faster, because he would only match your pace. If you tried to run, you assume, he’d just run after you, and seeing as he had far longer legs than you—you were pretty fucked if you decided to run.

You would try to call an Uber, but your phone had been dead since fifth period. And you would try and catch a bus or something, but there were no bus stops near where you live, and even if there were, you weren’t carrying any cash or any cards on you.

So, again, you’re pretty fucked.

You look back at the man again, and turn your head right back around to look ahead of yourself once you see him looking right back at you, closer than you remember him being. Is he walking faster? Do I have to walk faster?

You let out a shaky breath and keep walking, speeding up your walk just a bit and widening your strides, trying to think of what you should do. You didn’t want to just lead him to your house, that was just stupid. But you couldn’t just not go home—where else would you go?

You continue to walk, speeding up a bit when you start to hear the man behind you speed up, and you try to control your panicked breathing. What are you supposed to do? You mentally curse yourself out for not carrying any self defense on your person, and continue your walking.

Then suddenly, as if they were sent by God himself, you see four men come into view—one with a mohawk, one wearing some sort of skull mask-balaclava, one with sunglasses on even when the sun is almost set, and one with a boonie hat on—all walking together, all engaged in a casual conversation.

You wonder for a moment if you should try and get closer to them to see if the guy would leave you alone. You hear the guy behind you speed up as you think and you take a deep breath before walking significantly faster to get closer to the men ahead of you.

Am I really gonna trust a group that has a guy wearing a fucking skull mask in it? You hear the man behind you speed up as well and you speed up in retaliation, trying to think more about what to do, Do I just walk near them or do I straight up pretend I know them?

You think that the second option would be more likely to ward the weirdo following you away, but how would you even go about it? Do you just walk near them, or actually talk to them and join in on their conversation?

You look behind you again and see the man significantly closer to you.

Deciding to take the risk, you rush up to them, swallowing down your panic when you hear the man behind you’s footsteps speed up to try and match your own speed.

“Hey, guys!” All four of the guys turn around to look at you, their expressions all varying looks of confusion as you continue to talk, “Crazy seeing you guys here, it— it’s been so long.”

You try to get as close to them as possible while not touching them and end up standing right by who you assume is the oldest. You try to subtly gesture to the man who was just following you, and the man you’re standing next to seems even more confused for a moment.

“Uh, I don—” One of his friends cuts him off with a swat to the arm and when he turns his head to look at them in confusion, they nod over at the man whose just now catching up with you, and his mouth shapes into an ‘o’ before he looks back at you with a bit more understanding in his eyes.

“Right, yeah, it has been really long,” He corrects himself, the other two of his friends catching on and stepping closer to you, almost creating a shield around you. He looks you over for a moment, before asking, “You just get out of school?”

“Yeah, yeah, I did,” You nod, grateful that they caught on, hoping your gratitude is somewhat apparent, “About ten minutes ago.”

“Nobody picked you up this time?” The older man asks, tilting his head to the side a bit. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the man who’d been following you getting closer, but you force yourself to ignore him.

“Yeah, no, everyone was kind of busy, so I have to walk home,” You respond, shoving your hands into the pocket of your hoodie to hide their shakiness as the other man stopped to stare at you two’s conversation.

“Aw, well that sucks,” The other man frowns, before offering, “I was just heading back to my car, I could drive you back to your house? It’s on the way to the hotel we’re staying at, anyway.”

You hesitate, trying to see if the man who’d been following you was still there, and much to your disappointment, he was. It was like he was just waiting for you to make a decision.

Not knowing if you had any other choice, you nod affirmatively, “Yeah, sure. If that’s okay.”

The older man gives you a small smile and pats your shoulder, “Of course it’s okay. I don’t want you just walking out here by yourself.”

You almost sobbed in relief when you heard the creep that was following you scoff and finally walk back to wherever he came from after hearing that you accepted their offer of a ride. The older man takes his hand off of your shoulder and looks over, noticing the man has left as well, then looks back at you with a more concerned expression on his face.

“Sorry, I almost gave you away at the beginning there,” He sincerely apologizes.

“It’s fine, he probably didn’t even notice,” You put on a small smile and take a deep breath before adding on, “Thank you for that. I didn’t think he was ever gonna go away.”

“Yeah, no problem,” The older man smiles at you, and tacks on, “I was serious about the ride, by the way. If you’re comfortable with that, of course.”

You pause for a moment at that and think about if you trust them enough to have him drive you to your house and know your address and everything.

“It’s my car, by the way,” The guy with the sunglasses butts in, “I’m the one paying for it. No clue why he said it was his.”

“Because it was easier than saying it was yours,” The other guy sighs.

“Actually—” The one with a mohawk interrupts, before immediately being cut off by the other two with a simple ‘shut up’. He rolls his eyes, and does indeed shut up.

The one with a skull mask must notice your slight confusion, because he comments, “We’re renting a car for this week. Gaz is paying for it.”

“Don’t call me Gaz in public,” Gaz grumbles, “That’s weird. Just call me Kyle.”

“That sounds weirder,” The one with the skull mask argues, before the one with the almost-bucket hat sighs exasperatedly, the sound enough to make the two others shut up.

“Uh…” All their attention is back on you as you talk, making you resist the urge to shrink back in on yourself, “I mean, if you guys are totally okay with it, then I’d be… okay with getting a ride home.”

“Great!” Gaz smiles at you before dropping the smile and turning to the one with the skull mask, “You’re getting an Uber or something. I’m not driving you after that.”

“Wh—” The one in the skull mask, despite you only being able to see his eyes, looks baffled, “I didn’t do anything, fuckin’ kick out Soap or something!”

“Me? Why me?” The one with the mohawk—Soap, you assume—squawks, watching as Gaz actually thinks about it before nodding.

“Good point. Soap, call an Uber so…” Gaz pauses before turning to you, “What’s your name, love?”

You give him your name and he nods before turning back to Soap, “So that [y/n] can take your spot in the car.”

“I—” Soap begins to argue, before sighing and rolling his eyes, reaching into his back pocket for his phone, “Fine. Whatever. Fuck all of ye.”

“Sorrows, sorrows, prayers,” Gaz says dryly before turning back to you, “The car’s just another block up.”

“Got it,” You nod, “So I should just follow you guys then, or…?”

“Yeah,” Gaz confirms, “Stay a little closer in case that guy decides to come back, or if anyone else tries to follow you, alright, love?”

You nod again and take another step closer to the man with the skull mask and follow everyone else as they continue walking down to their car. They’re silent for the rest of the walk back, the man in the skull mask and the one with the almost-dad-going-fishing-hat keeping an eye out for any creeps while Gaz leads the way to the car.

Once you’ve all reached the car, Gaz unlocks it and the man in the skull mask and the one in the almost-bass-pro-shops-hat immediately get into the back seats, letting you have shotgun. You mentally thank them for it and wordlessly get into the passenger’s seat, happy that it’s not too dirty in the car, closing the car door once you’re in.

You buckle yourself in immediately and look right out the front window whilst Gaz gets in. This definitely won’t end up in me being kidnapped, You tell yourself, Totally not. This is the best idea I’ve ever had. Getting in a car with someone who goes by Gaz, someone who wears a mask from Spirit Halloween, and someone’s dad who somehow ended up here. Fucking perfect idea. I should do this more often.

Gaz gets in and buckles himself in, putting the car key into the ignition and twisting it, starting up the engine. You continue to stare out the window wordlessly as Gaz pulls out of the parking lot he’d been in and gets onto the road.

“Could you give me the directions to get to your place?” He asks you once he’s stopped at a red light right outside of the parking lot. Silently, you nod.

“Yeah, just, uh, keep going straight then take a left on Monroe,” You instruct him quietly. He nods and presses on the gas once the light turns green, continuing straight like you’d said.

“You alright?” The bearded man in the back pipes up, making you twist your head back to look at him.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” You assure him, half-lying, “Just a little tired and creeped out.”

“Reasonable,” He hums, before adding on, “I’m John, by the way, and this is Simon.”

Simon, the dude wearing the Spirit Halloween mask, perks up at the sound of his name, but otherwise doesn’t say anything.

“Good to know,” You respond, wondering if you should say anything else before awkwardly turning back in your seat to continue staring out the window, watching as Gaz takes a left.

“Take the next right, then just continue straight and then take a right on Balboa,” You tell him. He nods and takes the next right just as you told him to.

It’s probably safe to assume they aren’t kidnapping you, You think, your breathing finally back to normal now that you know you’re probably not in any danger.

“So what’s with the name ‘Gaz’?” You ask Gaz without thinking, tired of the silence in the car. Based on the way Gaz groans and John huffs out a laugh, you assume it’s somewhat of a long story.

“It’s kind of a long story?” Bingo. “But in short, I just don’t talk too much, and someone decided to make a big deal out of that.”

“I never made it a big deal!” John insists, all while Simon looks at him like he knows he’s lying, “It’s just a nickname!”

You listen in on their bickering, grateful to finally have some noise in the car, and huff out a small, amused laugh at their antics.

Soon enough, Gaz is turning right on Balboa, and he drives right into your neighborhood.

“It’s the house right up there,” You point to it, and he looks at the house you pointed at and speeds up a bit to reach it faster.

Once he’s at the house he thinks you pointed at, he asks, “This one, right?” and pulls into the driveway when you nod in confirmation.

He parks the car in your driveway and turns off the engine, immediately unlocking the car and turning to you.

“Well, I hope you have a good rest of your day,” He says politely, offering you a smile.

“Thank you, you too,” You smile back, feeling a little bad for being so eager to get out of the car. Then again, you really just want to get inside of your house where it’s safe, so you quickly unbuckle your seatbelt and open the car door.

You carefully get out and close it behind you, fishing your keys out from your back pocket, walking up to the front door of your house and unlocking it, only hearing Gaz’s car pulling out of your driveway after you’ve successfully opened your front door.

You yawn as you walk in, and close the door behind you, toeing off your shoes and leaving them by the front door.

You think, in the back of your head, about how weird it is that you didn’t get kidnapped despite that being the perfect opportunity for them to do so—but you don’t think about it too hard. You’re just grateful to have gotten home safe.

966 notes · View notes

neonovember · 11 months

Note

hiiii

could you write carmy x reader where she’s a high school friend and carmy always had a crush on her (but he thought she had a crush on mikey) ???? like maybe richie brings her up, and that she’s still in town and SINGLE and carmy gets red like a tomato and ??? richie makes her visit the beef and candy almost has a heart attack?? idk give me some in love carmen !!

pretty pleaseee and thank u

so I got this request and I immediately thought of swim by chase atlantic, and specifically the line that goes;

“I’ve been drowning for a minute, your body keeps pulling me in”

And holy shit if that isn’t Carmen in his denial-in-love with a long time friend era, I don't know what is. Carmen tries too hard to forget you, but you've marked permanently, you've ruined him for anyone else so can you blame him for waiting for you all this time?

Seriously though this request was so good! I got a bit carried away and turned into a 2 part series that may or may not have drabbles added to the universe…I really hope this isn't just a load of word vomit you don't want to read lmao. I just love their dynamic so much, and also FRIDAY DINNERS AT THE BEEF IS CANON OKAY.

Golden Boy

part one of 2

warnings: miscommunication (i know i'm sorry), friends to lovers, carmen and the reader have horrible communication skills and don't know how to call, angst, anxiety

a/n: part two will be up hopefully tomorrow so look out! it may or may not include a smut scene 😈

p.s, listen to swim whilst reading this you'll thank me later

You sat hunched in the tight enclosure of the classroom desk chairs, the once loud conversations fluttering across the huddled groups of classmates and friends that stood against tables and chairs now coming to a standstill.

The air of anxious trepidation falls across the atmosphere of the damp classroom, the windows that had been opened to let the air in felt thin as you and the rest of the students you had known for half a decade waited for that familiar ring of the bell.

The bell that would solidify your last day in this classroom, in these run down halls, in the school you had first stumbled into anxious and oblivious at thirteen.

Your heart ached at the nostalgia of it, and you can't bear to cast your gaze to your friends who had begun to sniffle, like they were holding back tears, the grandfather clock your geography teacher insisted on keeping ticked on as it always did, and whilst you had spent years burning holes through the glass, willing for it to go faster, your one dying wish is for the seconds to tick by in minutes.

You weren’t ready, it ran straight through you, all this time leading up, from when you had first learnt your desire to pursue architecture till the moment you finished that last sentence on your final exams, you felt you would be filled with joy at the sound of your true departure into adulthood and college.

And yet, you felt like a kid again, learning how to ride a bicycle without the training wheels, trying to reach the fifth monkey bar, falling headfirst into the dirt ground of the field when you had thought you were more flexible then you truly were.

You didn’t want to leave, you didn't want to leave this place, this place of memories and friends and people you knew and loved. And it was as if God was listening, cause the resounding echo of the school bell rang through the halls and it was as if he said ‘fuck you anyway’.

You gather the haphazard books and papers laying across your desk, you had purposefully delayed packing in order to waste as much time in this memory as possible, before adulthood would take it away and make it something of the past. You hear your friends calling your name, and you tell them to go ahead as you make your way to your teachers desk.

“Hey Mr Jefferson” You say to your teacher has begun to bid goodbye to the leaving students

Your teacher looks up at you with a tight smile, sadness washes over the wrinkles and creases of her features, her auburn hair falling in short waves at her shoulder and her olive lipstick wearing down. You have to swallow to stop the tears from dropping. Your Geography teacher, whilst not teaching Art, had been the catapult to realizing your fascination with Architecture and design. She had even helped tell your parents, who had been set on the idea of you going into Law or Medicine or anything other than creative arts.

“You’ll do amazing, I believe it because I see how hard you try. Don’t look back at this place, leave with the door wide open and come back only when you want to design me a house” Your Teacher replies with a grin, and before you can reply shes shuffling through her drawers, before pulling out a sketchbook that has been aged and stained with use over the years.

“What’s this?” You ask, twisting the book in your hand, it was good quality, despite being old, it felt like an heirloom.

“It’s one of my sketchbooks I had during college, maybe some of my late night sketches fuelled by coffee and donuts might inspire you”

“I couldn't possible-”

“Yes you could, hell whatever you create will probably be 10 x greater than whatever is in there” Your teacher cuts you off with a chuckle, and you hug the notebook tight against your chest before hugging her goodbye.

You step into the familiar walls of your high school hallways, crowds of seniors running to find their friends and hug them for possibly the last time, test papers and report cards left trampled on the ground, it's chaos, but you love it and the sight almost pulls tears down your waterline.

You walk towards your locker, before you recognize the familiar wisps of blond curls catch your eyesight. Carmen. You considered him one of your closest friends, bonding together over a love of game** and your equal hatred of your Period 4 Calculus teacher.

Carmen didn't have much when I came to be friends, and after he met you, it didn't really get to him anymore, he had you now, and you were more than enough. Over the years you had gotten close to every part of Carmen's life, Mickey, Richie, Sugar, they were all people you regarded as family.

But there was something unsaid between the both of you, it was like there was something beyond friendship, but the embers had just gathered and had left unignited.

He’s gathering his things from his locker, shoving them into a bag in that messy way he is, and he slams the locker with a jolt.

You're standing stationary in the middle of the hallway, classmates and other seniors running by you in confusion, your friends calling your name annoyed, but it's all muffled, it all doesn't matter because it's Carm and god your heart aches so bad.

You see Carmen and he sees you, stopping a few meters away from you, and a moment of recognition washes over him as he gazes with those cerulean blues. There's grief in the way you look at each other, tears streaming down your cheek as you try to smile at him, realising this might be the last time you see him, forever, off to an Art school in New York, leaving him behind. You feel like your heart is being ripped from your chest and he shakes his head, his eyebrows scrunching up as he steps closer so that he’s only a whisper from you.

He brings his hand up, brushing a strand and tucking in behind your ear, eyes strained as he wipes your tears away painfully. He moves closer, so that his breath is against your neck and whispers

“Thought you told me you'd punch me in the stomach if I cried on the last day” Carmen whispers into your eyes with a grin that breaks through the tears that cause his eyes to swirl in colour's of waves.

His words make you laugh and cry at the same time, and you shake your head as you reach for his arm, and playfully hit your stomach with it. Carmen rests it against your waist, looking up to you in a pained expression, his eyes shift to the notebook grasped tight in your hands

“New sketchbook? That..doesn't look new” Carmen says, turning his head to examine the old book more closely.

“One of Mrs Jefferson’s, her sketches are..their fucking amazing” You sigh, running your hand across the folded spine of the sketch book.

“Thought teachers weren't meant to have favourites” Carmen shoots out, a playful grin on his lips

“Hmm, well they aren't supposed to tell you exactly” You banter with a giggle, you flick through the pages of the book, half drawn sketches in grey lead and ballpoint, Carmen tracing his fingers gently across the ingrained lines and shades.

“God you're something, you know that?” Carmen says, all of a sudden, and when you look up you realise he’s been staring at you the entire time.

“Bear..” You breathe out.

“I don't know how I'm going to-, I, it's all so much” You exhale, waving your arms around this place that has held so many memories, so much of your past kept in the creaks and cracks of plastered walls and lockers

“You're the only person in this goddamn place that's going to make something out of themselves, I bet my entire life on it Bug. You're going to do amazing, in that big city, you’re going to show em’' Carmen replies, grasping you against his touch tight. You look up at him, trying to memorise every dip and curve of his features, the curl of his hair that shone honey in the sun, those eyes that were always searching, and the small cut on his forehead where he fell off his skateboard that one summer evening.

“Don’t say goodbye”

“Okay” Your tongue feels like deadweight in your mouth. what if i never see you again?

“You say goodbye and it's the end. Just..don’t” I can't breathe carmy.

You can’t stop yourself from wrapping your arms around him, pressing your nose into his shirt to smell the scent of patchouli and cigarettes he always carried, you want to tell him to come with you, to pack an overnight bag and run with you forever, but the words don’t taste right when you try to speak and you see yourself letting him go, and turning away with a shaky step.

Turn back Carmen whispers, so softly that only the gods above and the wind around him can hear it

You feel an urge to turn back, it speaks to you from within, and before you can stop yourself, your neck cranes, turning your body to get one last look at your golden boy before time would take him forever.

Time would age him into a memory forever.

Carmen feels this tension leave his shoulders at the same time his heart shatters, you will find each other again, even if it was in another universe, where you're sitting across from each other at the kitchen table, going over groceries together with the afternoon light casting its glow across you. He will find you, he will find you and he won’t let go this time.

“Honestly Ma, it’s fine, I’ll get the movers to come in a little early”. You groan into the phone pressed to your ear, papers and unresolved bills are left scattered across your dining room table and you have this itch that's begun to turn chronic somewhere you can’t reach.

You take a moment to look around your apartment, now barren of furniture, and filled instead with boxes of badly organised stuff you've accumulated over the years. This place, albeit small, had been your home ever since you stepped out of the yellow cabbed taxi on your first day in New York, and whilst it wasn't pretty, you felt a pang of guilt leaving it all behind. These walls had seen you through it all, the late night study cram’s, the breakdowns, the accomplishments, the one night stands. You'd miss her, but maybe you were just a nostalgic person.

You’ve made a life in New York, but you felt misplaced, like pieces of yourselves were scattered across the states. Chicago kept a part of you, and it was only when you had gotten the chance to move back home, did it click. You missed your city. And you had cut your lease and emptied out the last of your savings without a second thought.

Now all that was left was tying up loose ends and making the trip down. It was funny, in a way. You had run to New York to pursue architecture, and it brought you back to the very same place you had left, there was a certain trepidation when you thought of Chicago, it held so much of your past, in its city streets and evergreen trees, and you don’t know if you were quite ready to face those memories again.

It still smelled the same. You itch your nose, sniffling against the blooming scent of cocoa and caramel from the Chicago roads, all this time, and all that you can tell is how it still smelt like maple leaves and chocolate. It was comforting, and it felt like the warm embrace of a childhood friend that had stayed sitting on the corner of your suburban street corner all this time.

“Thank you Mae, really, I got the call last minute in New York to come back here and if it weren't for you, I’d be moving back into my old bedroom at my parents” You reply, gratitude filling every word. It was true, your friend had swooped in the second you called, fixing you up with a lease and an apartment with her realtor links. She came in a clutch, and she had made you promise to never leave her again in exchange.

“Oh shush doll, of course. This is probably payment for all the times I’ve crashed at yours anyway” Mae winks, the bracelets on her wrist clinking against each other. She didn't look like a typical realtor, more like a bohemian solo-traveller with her filly skirts and auburn red hair.

“I’m not going to let a degree transform my entire wardrobe, my clothes are antiques, their heirlooms, they tell a story”

She had told you once, one late night on the rooftop of your New York apartment, sipping cheap wine and passing a blunt between you both. You wish you had known yourself as much as she did then.

She had visited you a couple times in New York, coming up for work and spending the time at yours instead of spending thousands on an Airbnb, but it had been a while since you've seen her, and all of a sudden you remember how much you missed her laugh.

“I’ve got some time to spend before it’s all hand on deck” You reply, placing the last of your boxes onto the empty wooden floor of the living room.

“Oh yeah? Can’t believe you’re gonna design a whole building on Michigan Av’, your a fucking inspiration Bug” Mae sighs in adoration, and you giggle, the feeling of embarrassment filling you at the mention of your reason back home.

You never got used to the praise and adoration you received over the years, despite your many accolades and awards, you still felt like that hopelessly broke architect student giving up lunch to pay rent. You didn’t remember when things started to change. When did things start to change?

“You know, if you’ve got time, you should check out the Farmers Market near River North” Mae replies, whilst flicking through her phone

“The one on Division Street?” You reply, you had a faint memory of the long strip of stalls filled with fresh produce, food and the rest of the little trinkets that were sold since you were born on the pleated table cloth of sheltered booths.

“That’s the one, this guy named Samson? Makes the best fucking bearclaw in the entire United States. Tell him you're a friend of mine and he'll hook you up…you know since you can't afford it” Mae replies playfully, and you roll your eyes with a laugh.

“Yeah yeah, you hook up with him or something?” You poke back, Mae had the tendency to know everyone in Chicago, from the mailman to the old woman you’d see feeding the bids on a park bench.

“Yeah, actually I did. Not like you could relate, how long has it been, hm?” Mae replies, stepping forward to whisper down at your pants.

“I’m so sorry she hasn't been taking care of you. What are you, mummify her?” Mae looks up from her crouched position with a raised eyebrow.

“Ugh, you know I've been too busy to think about that. She’s gonna have to be patient” You reply, you don’t want to think about how long it has actually been, since you've had any type of release. But the tension has begun to weigh on your shoulders as time went on and you fear it might become something you can’t ignore.

You begin to move some boxes into your bedroom, thanks to your planning your large furniture such as your bed and coach, had been moved into the apartment before the rest of the things had got here, so at least you wouldn't be sleeping on a mattress on the floor. Changing into a pair of dark jeans and a short sleeve top, you loop an embroidered handbag onto your shoulder.

“So, you coming?” You call to Mae, who’s begun to fill your fridge with the groceries she's swung by with.

“Sure would Bug, but got a call to come in. I’ll come by again later this evening though?” Mae replies, with a grunt as she lifts the 2 litre bottle of milk onto one of the drive shelves.

“Yes please, I’m dying for a glass of wine”

“And a blunt” Mae replies, snickering at the way you roll your eyes at her.

Mae offers to drop you off, but you wave her off, telling her you wanted to see a little more of your hometown. You needed some fresh air that wasn't the coffee and smoke scent of the New York streets.

The walk to the Farmers market was a short one, but you felt like you were wading through a current. By the way the memories of your past began to resurface as you passed the streets and shops. Every corner holds a part of you, and you have to rush by your old school to stop the pang of pain that surprises you. You weren't an emotional person, but god it was almost as if you were hanging by a thread the second you touched down on Chicago.

What was causing this? You felt like you were holding your breath as you stepped through the fallen autumn leaves marking the sidewalk, the gentle sun on your back, what were you waiting for?

You tear yourself from your thoughts momentarily when you catch the looming buildings that had been built on ions ago, the infrastructure of Chicago still enamoured you, in a way that couldn't be beaten by even New York’s impossible skyscrapers.

There was a charm to it, each of the buildings felt like you were stepping into a different decade, they had been the stepping stones to a lot of the infrastructure and architecture that spread into other cities. You felt like you were at the start of it all every time your eyes trailed across the facade and arcades of the century old stone buildings.

Without realising, you had finally made it to the Farmers Market, the constant stream of people coming in and out with boxes of produce or hauling wooden antiques with very audible grunts. You can’t stop the smile stretching your face as you step through the embroidered banner at the front of the street.

Despite the many different stalls and food around you, you don't feel overstimulated. This was your home, you felt like you belonged, like a name scratched into wet cement, remaining ingrained for years no matter the seasons that came.

You go over the haphazard list of things you wanted to look for in your mind, but you're caught off guard by a stall that seemed to be huddled by patrons. You step towards it, and as people move aside you see the blooming flowers and carefully wrapped banquets in woven wooden baskets to the side of the stall. A short woman with light brown curls is standing at the front, taking down orders with a grin, whilst a rather tall man behind her makes quick work to wrap delicate orders into soft brown parchment paper tied with string.

And all of a sudden the need to buy pink tulips becomes your first priority. The woman at the front looks familiar, but you can't quite put your finger on where you've seen her, but as you walk up to the front her face morphs into familiar as she looks up at you in surprise.

“As I live and breathe” She says your name with a screech and it's her voice that pulls her name to your mouth. Adeline, a close friend from senior year who’d taught you how to crochet and pick a lock.

“Bug? How've you been? What brings you back to town?” Ade replies after telling the man behind her your order without you even saying a thing.

“Tulips, pink ones right?” Ade grins, and you have to let out a chuckle at how you haven't changed even a little.

“Got invited to join in designing a new building on Michigan Avenue, so I'll be back for a while-”

“Michigan Avenue? Holy shit Bug! You’re making moves, knew you always were special” Adeline replies with a gushing smile and you rush to reply with the same adoration

“Are you kidding, look at this line” You motion to the increasing line of people forming at Adeline's stall.

“People love their flowers” Adeline replies with a shrug before you shake your head vehemently

“No, they love your flowers, and for good reason, look at these” You gush, pressing your face into the bundle of tulips that had been handed to you.

“They only look that good because Henry's so good at wrapping them” Adeline replies with a laugh, her eyes flicking to the brown haired man dressed in corduroy behind her. A look passes between them that tells you there was more than love between them.

“Henry huh?” You reply with a grin, and the man is quick to introduce himself, and you don’t ignore the cold press of an encrusted band on his ring finger as he shakes your hand with a soft smile.

And it's as if Adeline reads your mind and she slips her left hand in yours, looking up at you with a teary grin.

“Yes, yes I know, I should've called, and I’m so sorry-”

You press yourself against her, leaning over the stall to wrap your arms around her. You whisper words of congratulation, shutting down any words that hinted at you being mad at her.

It wasn't her fault, it should be you she's mad at, you hadn’t really made that much of an effort to keep in contact with your friends back at home, and the reality of it weighed on you heavy now, you had missed so many milestones of your loved ones, all to chase your own dreams in New York.

You felt like you were constantly playing catch up, and you couldn't lie when a strange feeling crept up at the thought of your friends moving on with life. You were so incredibly happy for Adeline, and you were even more elated when she had told you of the Wedding in April that you had to come to.

But that didn't stop that same strange feeling of being behind everyone else, you had spent so long climbing the ladder to wear what you wear now, relationships and love weren't even a thought, you filled your nights with studying and drawing and the occasional fling, but nothing more. And now doubts had begun to creep in, had you missed out?

Watching everyone around you get married and have kids whilst you were still drawing buildings in that same sketchbook your teacher had given you 8 years ago. You’re not looking as you walk past the many stalls of the Farmers market, and it is your thoughts again that causes you to accidentally stumble into the hard muscle of a man back. You feel yourself falling, before arm's reach out, grabbing you quickly to stop you from ending flat on your face.

You breath out a sigh of relief, shaking a head at your clumsiness

“God, ‘m so sorry, I’ve just been in my head, I wasn’t looking where i was going-”

“Holy fuck” Your quick to spit an apologetic thanks, you haven't even looked up to see who you've dubbed into, and when the sound of surprise meets your ease you look up, only to be remain stone faced with your mouth left open.

“Richie?” You say, the shock of it is still in the air. You hadn't expected to see him in Chicago, or maybe you did and it was sooner than you thought.

“When did you get back? Holy shit, thought we wouldn't see you again” Richie replies with a smile

“Yeah uh, came down for some work for a little while. How, uh How are things” You reply with a squeak, you can’t bear to say what you're thinking and Richie nods, a look of acknowledgement in his face. Mickey’s death had shaken you, it had changed you in its own way, and you still grief him, it still hurts when Richie's face kinda falls and melts at the reminder of his best friend's death.

“After, uh, after Mickey, he had left the restaurant, you know, the Beef?” You nod in agreement, the hazy memory of the sandwich shop on the corner of Chicago's, busiest streets, you stomach rumbles at the thought of one of those sandwiches you'd down in less than a minute during your high school years.

“Yeah well, get this, he left it to Carmen. And honestly, I was hesitant at first, real hesitant, I love him, but god, he's a self centred ass coming in like he knew everything, spewing the bullshit CDC shit he learnt up in the big apple? He changed things, and you know how I feel about change, but he made it better, I can;t lie, and you better not tell him this, but the Beef actually..” Richie’s familiar rambles are muffled to your ears, the only thing you can hear is Carmen.

Everything zones out as you scrunch your eyebrows, wincing almost, at the pain and it shocks you, it shocks you how the very name of him still brings back those memories. You still hurt the same way you did the day you left him.

You must have looked out of it, as Richie shakes your shoulder, anchoring you back to the present, and you have to swallow back the bite of pain that bleeds through your chest.

“Did you hear what I said? The Beef’s holding a little family dinner tomorrow, shutting down the shop early, inviting only friends and family, it’ll be like a little reunion for you! You have to come” Richie replies, and you nod trying to seem present.

Carmen took over the Beef? He was in New York? What?

Your mind is scattered with the uproar of questions you have, the thought of Carmen, the memory of him is like a fresh wound. It un tethered and opens up a thread of thoughts and emotions you had thought you bottled up and threw deep into the ocean.

“You, you still talk to him right? Ya’ll were pretty close growing up, like fucking thieves attached to the hip if i can remember” Richie chuckles, fondly remembering the two of you.

You cough back, smiling up at him as you trying to reply coherently

“Yeah, uh sometimes you know” You lie

No. You haven't spoken to him since you left, and it feels like your tongue falls dead when you try to say his name again. You hadn't called and he hadn't picked up. Carmen told you not to say goodbye, but the truth was it had been the end of you even before you had both realised.

You had spent years pretending like Carmen not calling you, not making an effort to see you after everything didn’t burn, but the reality of it had marked you in a way that felt eternal.

“So you're coming, yeah? You and Carmen can finally catch up” Richie replies with a smile, and look of something passes through his eyes before it leaves, and you have to smile back with a nod, like you and Carmen were still close, like you don't feel that he might turn you away or scream at you the second he saw you, like you weren't both irrevocably in love with each other.

Bear. You missed him, you are shocked by how much you do, you thought bottling up your memories and emotions about him and stuffing them so far back into your mind you forgot would actually change anything. There had always been this lingering thought, at the recesses of your mind, the last thing you imagined before you fell asleep, the feeling that filled you the second you came back to Chicago, it was all Carmen, it was all your golden boy.

And now you would have to see him, in less than a day you would be in the same room as Carmen Berzatto, you don't want to say it, you don't want to speak it into acknowledgement but deep down, you wanted to see him again.

Beyond it all, you both were bonded in friendship, sharing something you didn't even have with Adeline or Mae, and you had felt like a part of yourself was missing each day that went passed without hearing from him. Had he forgotten you? Had it been as hard for him to go on with life? He had been in New York for christ sake, he didn't even think to visit you, that thought alone made you want to run back home and never come out.

You couldn't bare the possibility of exposing yourself to such heartache, to the chance of being rejected by the very person who you forever longed for. You were always searching for him, looking through crowds to see the familiar curl of his brown hair, or the scent he carried, ears always leaning in, trying to see if it would catch his syrupy baritone voice.

The two of you were forever connected, like the roots of trees spanning miles under the Earth. The kind of companionship that transcended time and space, and god did you want to feel the sharp edge of his jaw between your hands.

You couldn't stop it now, Richie had opened something you kept locked and sunk for a reason, and now it felt like you would break if you didn't see Carmen. Even if it would break you, even if it was the one thing in this world that would destroy you,

You had to see your golden boy.

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