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pucksandpower · 2 days

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MILF

Toto Wolff x wife!Reader

Summary: Toto knows his wife is a MILF … but this doesn’t mean he is okay with his son’s friends calling you that

Warnings: teenage boys doing teenage boy things

Based on this request

“Pass the schnitzel, darling,” you say to your husband as the three of you sit down for dinner. Your teenage son has just gotten home from school, and you can’t wait to hear about his day.

Toto smiles at you as he passes the platter of breaded veal. “How was school?” He asks.

Lukas shrugs as he takes a bite. “It was okay,” he mumbles through a mouthful of food.

You give him a look. “Don’t talk with your mouth full, sweetie,” you gently chide. Even though he’s almost an adult now, you still see your little boy in him.

Lukas swallows and straightens up. “Sorry, Mum.”

“So tell us about your day,” you prompt. “Learn anything new and interesting?”

Your son fidgets in his seat. “Well … some of the guys were talking about you today.”

You raise your eyebrows in surprise. “Me? What about me?”

Lukas glances uncomfortably at his father. “Just … stuff they saw online. Paparazzi photos from when we were on the yacht last month.”

Toto sets his fork down, his expression darkening. He’s no stranger to being in the public eye, but he’s always been protective of you and Lukas. “What exactly were they saying?” He asks in a carefully neutral tone.

“They, uh …” Lukas rubs the back of his neck. “They called Mom a MILF.”

“A what?” Toto sputters, while you have to suppress a laugh. You’re familiar with the crude term, given your substantially younger age compared to your husband.

“It’s not funny!” Toto says indignantly. “I won’t have people objectifying my wife like that.”

You reach over and pat his arm. “It’s okay, dear. I’m not bothered by it.” You turn back to Lukas with an amused smile. “I’m flattered those boys think your old mom’s still got it.”

“You’re not old!” Lukas protests loyally. “It’s just, you know, you’re a lot younger than Vati, and you’re really pretty, so the guys notice.”

Toto scowls, but you grin and blow your son a kiss. “Thanks, sweetie.” Your playful reaction seems to visibly relax him.

“This is unacceptable,” Toto shakes his head. “I should call the school. Get those little punks suspended for sexual harassment.”

“Oh Toto, don’t be silly,” you wave dismissively. “They’re just teenage boys. I’m sure they didn’t mean any harm.”

“It doesn’t matter!” He insists. “Your dignity and privacy should be respected, not exploited. People think because we’re in the spotlight that they can say whatever vulgar nonsense they want.”

You reach over again and lace your fingers through his, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “I know it bothers you, darling. But I married you knowing full well how public our lives would be. A little crude gossip comes with the territory.”

Toto opens his mouth to retort, then pauses, some of the indignation leaving his eyes. “I just don’t want anyone disrespecting you,” he says finally.

You smile softly. Even after all these years of marriage, your heart still flutters at his protectiveness. “I know. It’s one of the many things I love about you.”

Lukas makes a face. “Ugh, gross. Can you guys not be all mushy right now?”

You laugh and blow him another kiss. “Sorry Lukas. I can’t help it — your father’s the love of my life.”

Toto smiles back at you, the anger fading from his face. “And you’re mine, schatzi.”

Your son pretends to gag. “Seriously, stop. I’m trying to eat here.”

You chuckle and spear another bite of schnitzel. “Alright, we’ll behave. Now, tell me more about the rest of your day ...”

The conversation moves on to lighter topics as you finish up dinner. You listen attentively while Lukas fills you in on the drama with his friend group and his struggles in history class.

After clearing the dishes, the three of you move to the living room. You curl up next to Toto on the couch while Lukas sprawls out on the carpet to play video games.

You close your eyes contentedly and rest your head on your husband’s shoulder. Despite the lifestyle that being married to Toto provides you with, this right here is your happy place — your little family, spending a quiet evening at home.

Toto wraps an arm around you and presses a soft kiss to your temple. “Have I told you lately how lucky I am?” He murmurs.

You smile up at him. “Even after all these years, you still give me butterflies.”

“Good,” he says firmly. “I’ll tell you every day if I have to, until you’re sick of hearing it.”

Lukas groans loudly from the floor. “Could you guys be any more embarrassing?”

You and Toto both laugh. “What? I can’t tell my beautiful wife how much I love her?” He calls out in protest.

“Not when I’m right here!” Lukas complains. “Get a room or something.”

You grin mischievously. “That’s not a bad idea ...” you say, running a hand up your husband’s chest.

Toto’s eyes darken. “Minx,” he murmurs.

Lukas scrambles to his feet. “Okay, I’m out of here.” He gives you both a look of exaggerated disgust as he heads upstairs.

You and Toto chuckle as you listen to his bedroom door slam shut.

“Now, where were we?” Toto says in a low voice, pulling you closer. You bite your lip coyly as he presses his mouth to yours. No matter how many years go by, the chemistry between you is still electric.

You shift against him eagerly as the kiss deepens. His hands slide down to grip your hips, and you make a soft noise of pleasure. After nearly two decades of marriage, he knows exactly how to touch you.

“Tell me again,” you whisper when you finally break apart, slightly breathless.

Toto gazes into your eyes. “I love you,” he says sincerely. “I will always love you. Meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me.”

You kiss him again, tenderly this time. “I love you too, Toto. Forever.”

No matter what people say or how famous you become, your relationship has always been grounded in this — the unwavering love between you. The rest of the world falls away when you’re together.

You rest your head contentedly on his shoulder again, his arms wrapped around you. This right here, next to the man who still looks at you like you hung the moon, is home.

***

The next day after school, Lukas comes home with a few of his friends in tow. You’re just finishing up putting away the groceries when you hear the chatter of teenage voices approaching.

“Hey Mum, we’re gonna hang out downstairs,” Lukas calls out as the group of boys raids the kitchen fridge for snacks.

You smile and give them a little wave. “Hi boys. There’s more drinks in the pantry if you need it.”

The teenagers rumble acknowledgements through mouthfuls of food before thundering downstairs to your home theater room. You chuckle and shake your head. Teenage appetites are truly a phenomenon.

You’re straightening up the living room when you hear the front door open again, signaling Toto’s return from work.

“Hello, liebling,” he greets you warmly, sweeping you into an embrace.

You kiss him in welcome. “How was work today?”

“The usual madness,” he sighs. “But coming home to you makes it all worthwhile.”

You smile up at him adoringly. Even after all these years, your heart still flutters at his smooth compliments.

“Oh, Lukas has some friends over,” you mention. “They’re downstairs watching movies or playing video games.”

Toto frowns a little. “Those wouldn’t happen to be the same friends who were objectifying you?”

You pat his chest placatingly. “Now dear, we talked about this. Don’t make a fuss.”

“Hmph.” He still looks slightly disgruntled. “Well, I should at least go down and say hello.”

You follow him downstairs, where the group of teenage boys are sprawled out on the sofas engrossed in some action movie. Explosions boom from the surround sound system as CGI buildings crumble onscreen.

They look up when you and Toto enter. “Oh hey Mr. Wolff,” one of them says.

“Vati, you remember my friends right?” Lukas introduces. “Jason, Andrew, Ryan, and David.”

“Ah yes, nice to see you boys again,” Toto says smoothly.

Too smoothly.

You can sense the storm brewing beneath his polite façade.

Sure enough, as the teens’ attention returns to the movie, Toto clears his throat. “So I heard you boys were discussing my wife the other day.”

The room goes silent, save for the cinematic explosions still blaring through the speakers. The boys glance around uneasily.

“Um, we didn’t mean anything bad by it,” David finally offers timidly.

Toto raises an eyebrow. “Oh? So objectifying and sexualizing a married woman is not meant to be disrespectful?”

The teens squirm under his icy stare. You put a warning hand on your husband’s arm, but he continues.

“Let me tell you something about my wife,” he says, an edge creeping into his tone. “She is an elegant, successful, and highly intelligent woman. Not some piece of meat for you ogling schoolboys to drool over.”

The chastised boys all mumble apologies and stare fixedly at the floor.

Toto points a stern finger at them. “I trust there will be no further vulgar comments, or you won’t be welcome in this house again.”

“Yes sir,” they mutter. Lukas looks like he wants the leather couch to swallow him whole. You have to stifle a smile at your husband’s overprotective papa bear routine.

“Good. I’m glad we understand each other.” Toto straightens his suit jacket. “Now you boys enjoy your … movie.”

He turns and heads back upstairs, with you following after an apologetic smile to the shell-shocked teens.

Once you’re out of earshot, you swat his shoulder reproachfully. “Toto! Did you really need to traumatize the poor kids?”

“I didn’t traumatize them,” he huffs. “I just … explained a few things.” At your skeptical look, he amends “ … Firmly.”

You shake your head in exasperation. “You’re impossible. I thought I asked you not to make a fuss.”

He takes your hands earnestly. “I’m sorry, schatzi. I just can’t stand anyone disrespecting you. You deserve to be treated like a queen.”

You soften at the sincerity in his eyes. “Oh Toto. You’re too good to me.” You wrap your arms around him in a conciliatory hug.

He holds you close. “Nonsense. I’ll spend every day proving you’re the most important thing in the world to me.”

You snuggle against his chest, reminded yet again how lucky you are. Even when he overreacts, you know it comes from a place of devotion.

“Just promise me you’ll go easy on the boys,” you say wryly as you pull back. “I think you scared them straight for life.”

Toto smiles ruefully. “I suppose I did get a bit … intense. But the message won’t do any harm.”

You laugh and kiss his cheek. “My noble protector.”

He grins. “Proudly.”

Later, as the boys are getting ready to leave, Toto stops them at the front door.

“Before you go, I have one more thing to say,” he announces. The teens glance at each other nervously.

Toto looks each of them in the eye. “If I ever hear of you disrespecting my wife again, I won’t be so kind. You see, she’s actually a MIDF … Mother I Do Fuck.” He enunciates the words pointedly.

The teens’ eyes widen in horror, and Lukas turns bright red. “Vati!” He hisses in embarrassment.

Toto ignores him. “So I would appreciate it if you kept your crude comments to yourselves next time.” He gives them a tight smile. “Are we clear?”

The boys nod rapidly. “Yes sir. Crystal clear, Mr. Wolff,” one mumbles.

“Good.” Toto claps his hands together. “Then get home safely.”

After the front door shuts behind the fleeing teens, Lukas rounds on his father. “Oh my god, Vati! Why would you say that?”

He shrugs unapologetically. “I wanted to make sure they got the message loud and clear this time.”

Lukas just shakes his head in mortification before stomping upstairs.

You slide your arms around your unrepentant husband. “You just couldn’t resist, could you?”

“They left with a healthy dose of fear and respect,” Toto says smugly. “I think my work here is done.”

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evie-sturns · 3 days

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drunk - Chris Sturniolo

summary: you show up to you, and your boyfriend chris's home drunk after a girls night out. chris has to take care of you in your interesting... state.

contains: fluff, mentions of alcohol, vague mentions of throwing up, crying, swearing.

a/n: i wanted to do a little mature chris fic because i dont see enough of that, i hope you guys like this!!

--------------└─── °∘❉∘° ───┘---------------

tonight started as just me and 6 other friends at a club, before i left the house chris made it very clear i need to be home before midnight.

right now its 1:30 of the next morning, my friend grace is glued to my side as i cackle, watching her twerk on the dancefloor. i drag her to the bar, throwing back several more shots.

i'm not sure what time it is, or where the other 4 of my friends are but all i know is i should probably be getting home..

"graceee" i laugh, pulling out my phone and attempting to call an uber, all the text is jumbled. a girl walks by me, i grab her arm lightly and hand her my phone, "call me an uber please babe" i say to the girl, she smiles before handing my phone back shortly after,

"its coming in 10 minutes!!" she calls out over her shoulder as she walks away.

i drag grace out of the club as we laugh about nothing, the uber pulls up and we pile inside.

i stumble up the front porch of chris and i's house, swinging open the front door as it hits the wall with a bang, i let out a small laugh as my heels click against the wooden planks.

"chrissy!!" i yell out a stupid nickname, chris walks out from the bathroom, hes shirtless only wearing sweatpants, which sit dangerously low.

"where the fuck have you been!" chris says, his voice serious as he grips my wrist firmly.

"uh.. club? obviously," i say with an attitude.

"drop your tone, come with me." he says, pulling me down the corridor into his room.

"sit" chris says, dragging me over to the bed and gently placing me down on the end of his bed. he gets down on his knees and starts to undo the straps of my heels, pulling them off my feet. "ow christopher!! 'fuckin hurts." i whine, folding my arms

"do you know what time it is?" chris asks, "like 10pm? can you read a clock?" i reply with an eye roll, my tone slurred.

he stands up off his knees as he looks down at me on the bed, i look to the side, chris grabs my chin,

"look at me." he says, making me look up at him with the hand on my chin. he stares into my eyes,

i erupt into tears, "your mad at me and im really really sorry but i-.. i" i say as mascara starts to flow down my flushed cheeks.

chris shakes his head, closing his eyes "i'm not mad at you sweetheart." he says, picking me up off the bed and placing me on my feet,

"you wanna know what i think?" chris asks softly, i nod my head.

"i think you've had a bit too much to drink tonight, you think so too?" he says, putting my arms in the air and lifting my mini-dress up over my head,

he walks me over to his closet, pulling out a pair of my small pyjama shorts and one of his shirts, which pulls onto me.

"you look pale baby, do you feel sick?" chris says, speed-walking me into his bathroom to get off his carpet.

"yeah." i sniffle, he sits down next to the toilet on the cold marble tiles, he pulls me onto his lap where i stay on my knees.

all of the achohol i've had tonight exits my mouth into the toilet bowl, "there we are." chris says, stroking my hair as he holds it behind my head.

"good girl, your okay." he sighs, "at least all the shots are out now" he says, standing up and walking me over to the sink, leaning me over the sink and filling up his hands with water as a cup.

he pours it into my mouth with a small laugh, i swish it around before spitting it back into the sink.

"feeling a little better?" he asks, picking me up by my ass and taking me towards his bed.

"im sorry." i say, letting my head fall forward into his bare shoulder, "don't apologise, you throwing up all the drinks you've had is much better than keeping it in okay?"

i nod, he lays me down in bed before pulling the covers up over me. leaning over me as my eyelids grow heavy.

"chris.." i say quietly, my speech still slightly slurred, "yeah?" he replies "i'm sorry for being mean" i say, chris laughs,

"dont worry about it precious." he smiles, leaning down and pressing a kiss to my lips,

"chris!!! i've just been sick!" i say, pulling away.

#sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo imagine #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x you

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uglyducklingofthe2000s · 2 days

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It Was Just A Joke - LN

Request from @louicoy - I wanted to ask for something with Lando, like a troll, like the reader pretends to be pregnant and tells Lando in an anguished way as if she were afraid of his reaction, but he's super cute and is delighted with the idea, but then the reader says that It's trolling and he gets upset and it's just really cute!

Themes: suggestions of smut (no actual smut), grumpy Lando

No part 2 requests please

Y/n and Lando are no stranger to pranks, in fact they don't just prank each other but they troll followers online.

Today y/n is decided to be a bit of a troll and tease what she thought was obviously a joke. Especially since she's on her period so pregnancy is without a doubt, out of the question as a possibility.

"Do you think I'm getting fat?" Y/n asks while looking at her bloated tummy which is actually bloated because of her period. To hell with being a girl, what sort of unfair existence punishes you for not being pregnant?

"What?" Lando frowns head snapping up.

"Fat. Do you think I'm getting fat?" Y/n states turning to him slightly pouted.

"No. I think you're perfect."

"Of course you do...I should just ask your fans if they think I'm getting fat."

"They'll lie...Are you ok?" Lando questions since usually y/n is the last person to make a bitter comment about his fans, even if a lot of them do feel it's their business to comment on her body and diet.

"Lando, I have to tell you something and I need you to just remain calm and not freak out." Y/n states aware that she's got her phone set up recording them. She often records herself just for ootds or little mini vlogs that she likes to post on her accounts.

"Ok." Lando hums placing his own phone down while she sighs and swallows sitting down in front of him and smiling awkwardly as she links their hands.

There's a brief pause that she spends just quiet and paused before she clears her throat.

"I really need you to understand that I completely understand if you need time to just process this or if you're...unsupportive of it. I mean we're at a point in our relationship where I never expected this sort of thing to happen-"

"Baby, what on earth is going on? Can you please just tell me? You said not to freak out and now you're saying everything that makes me feel like freaking out." Lando states feeling on edge and clearly not assuming what a lot of guys would assume and fear. "You're not dying are you?"

"Oh god! No-I'm pregnant." Y/n splutters out actually feeling bad over the fact she's now lying. The extreme reaction of him thinking she might be dying was bad enough and now she's just lied to him.

"You're pregnant?" Lando frowns for a moment before bursting into a blindingly bright beaming grin, she almost leans back from just how happy he seems. "We're going to have a baby? Really?"

Oh shit.

He was supposed to be scared and nervous and unsure. Why is he so happy?

"Baby! That's amazing." Lando grins capturing her face between her hands and kissing her a couple times. "We can-"

"I'm so sorry..." Y/n states trying to laugh it off making his body's buzzing with excitement still suddenly.

"What?"

"I'm sorry. It was just a prank. I didn't-I didn't think you'd be this happy." Y/n mumbles then laughing. "Baby, since when are you so eager to be a dad?"

"So you're not pregnant?"

"No. God, the bloating and slightly pudgy belly is from my period. I thought you'd catch on and call me out on it..." Y/n states feeling very much guilty about it it. "I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd be so happy."

Maybe unsurprisingly, the next 2 days earn her the cold shoulder and she's all but ignored by the McLaren driver. She also ended up deleting the video since uploading that when Lando was so upset about it not being true felt very much in bad taste.

"Lando...please...I'm sorry." Y/n pouts as she walks into his sim/gaming room. "I really didn't mean to hurt you."

"I know." Lando mutters still unwilling to properly talk about it.

"Can you please come cuddle with me? I want to talk to you about something important...and have your full attention, not talk to the side of your face."

"How do I know it's not just another prank?"

"Lando...baby." Y/n mumbles earning a sigh as he finally caves in and moves with her, taking her held out hand still in a very glum matter before he allows her to lead them to the sofa. He's pushed down to sit side ways and finds her lying on top of him. "I think we need to have a serious talk."

"About what?"

Y/n almost wants to jab him with a pointed finger for purposely being ignorant to the obvious. Though him softly playing with some stray strands of her hair. Even when he's mad, he can't help but have those soft touches. He's also not been very affectionate and her forcing him to cuddle with her reminds him just how much he actually loves physically touching her in any way possible.

"If we...actually talk about kids and having them. Maybe we could discuss when is a good time to maybe try and actually have kids and maybe...if we're ready now."

"I'm ready now-but if you're not then I can wait." Lando rushes out maybe more ready for this conversation than he wanted to let on.

"Well right now would be a bit hard...I'm still on my period. So the success rate would be low. But maybe once it's over...I could actually stop taking my birth control since that's the main reason I'm not getting pregnant and we could definitely give it a good go." Y/n hums with a smile feeling Lando's fingers tracing her jaw. "I mean I'm not going to complain about more sex with my boyfriend."

"No. You never have before." Lando smirks then nodding. "You'll look good pregnant with my baby."

"Your baby."

"Our baby...So picky."

"Mmm...if it's as annoying as you, I'll probably call them your baby more than mine." Y/n jokes finally moving further up his body to be level with him and kiss him softly. "So...baby making begins in a few days."

"Yes. Aggressively frequent baby making." Lando confirms clearly feeling victorious.

"Can't believe I've just agreed to get myself pregnant all because I joked about being pregnant...you are going to get me fat."

"Yep, and I'm not sorry for it. If you let me, I'll be doing it more than once too." Lando smirks pulling her up to straddle him, sucking in a breath as he holds her waist to slightly grind her down on himself. "Maybe we should get some free practice in. Just for most effective technique."

"Lando...I'm still on my period..." Y/n grimaces never a fan of the thought of period sex.

"Mmm...fine. But you know I don't care."

"I know, you know this isn't the first offer you've made."

"I heard orgasms are meant to help with cramps." Lando states pulling the random piece of information he probably learned from some post online to hopefully work in his favour. "I'm just saying."

"In that case...maybe just this once." Y/n hums leaning down to kiss him.

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rowanswriting · 2 days

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ROOOOWWWWWWW

REQUESTS ARE OPEN YOU SAY???

Self indulgent because I’m that bitch.

Maybe shy/ditsy reader (cause I love her) who is like so innocent and quiet out in public and in private is the neediest horniest depraved little slut for her man (obvs can be gender neutral) with either Steve or Eddie, or steddie x reader whatever your heart desires.

I HOPE THIS ISNT A SHIT REQUEST ITS TWO AM AND IM TIRED

- hellfiremunsonn (Lillie) 🩷

Freak Like Me - E.M.

thank you so much for the request lovey! I hope this is everything you envisioned! @hellfiremunsonn ily! 🫶🏽

Word count- 1.3K

Warnings - pussy slapping, dirty talk, p in v sex, female masturbation (Eddie helps), Eddie teases you, if I miss something please tell me and I’ll be sure to add it here!

-feel free to reblog & interact it’s much appreciated thank you all for reading! I really hope you enjoy this! 18+ only!

“Where you going sugar?” Eddie’s husky voice says from behind you. One of his ringed hands coming up to grip on your shoulder. You feel your knees go weak, trying your best to remain standing as you look around at all his friends. They’re all watching you as you turn to look at Eddie. “Back to the van… if that’s okay, Sir.” You mumble out. A few of his friends chuckle as you hide your face, flushing from embarrassment. He nods, leaning forward and kissing your cheek softly before handing you the keys. “It’s all yours baby be there soon.” You listened as Eddie continued talking about some dnd campaign, the sound of his voice drowning out behind you.

He’d made a spectacle of you all night long, teasing you in front of everyone. He knew exactly what it did to you, you’d almost not agreed to come out tonight because you knew this would happen. Eddie loves teasing you, and his friends love it even more, watching you babble when he asks you a question because only a minute before he had said something incredibly dirty. The wide smirk on his face causes you to stutter as you squeeze your legs together, praying that no one will be able to see. They do. This time you decide not to stick around to hear the remarks they’d make.

You slowly open the door to his van, hopping up inside and slamming yourself back onto his seat. The uncomfortableness of your panties sticking to you is too much to handle, so you lift your hips, sliding them down your legs before throwing them in the back seat. All you can think of when you slip your fingers down to flip up your skirt is Eddie’s voice, the way he mocks you, laughs at you, the sweet nothings he’ll whisper to you once he has you all to himself. “Fuck.” You whimper out, your fingers lightly grazing against your clit.

You shuffle around a bit angling yourself so when Eddie opens the door he’ll have a perfect view of what belongs to him. To his friends, you’re shy and reserved, innocent even. Eddie knew the real truth about you and you were none of those things. Your eyes close as you get lost in the moment, you bite your lip hard enough that you’re sure it’ll bleed as you circle your fingers around your clit, the sensations running throughout your body as you moan quietly. “Please Eddie.” You cry out, sliding down against the passenger door.

“Well ain’t this a pretty picture.” Your eyes snap back open as a sick smile breaks out across your face. “Knew you wouldn’t keep me waiting long.” You say, giggling as Eddie climbs up into the drivers seat. He’s quick with the door, slamming it before turning to look back at you. Your fingers are still working over yourself, only going faster now that he’s watching. You go to stop but he grabs your wrist, guiding your hand down. “Oh please honey, don’t stop because of me. Let me see how desperate you are.”

You nod, your eyes half open from the pleasure as Eddie pushes two of your own fingers inside yourself. You groan at the feeling, it’s messy but you couldn’t love it more. The sounds of wet squelching and your moans fill up the van as Eddie’s eyes burn with lust. They’re latched onto where the both of you are moving together. “This is so good, but I really need you Ed’s please.” You beg. He shakes his head, holding your hand down, rocking your fingers in and out slowly. “I didn’t say you could stop babydoll.” He whispers as you buck your hips up, grabbing at his wrist with the hand that isn’t buried deep inside you.

Eddie leans back, sitting on his knees as he watches you. He pulls his hand away slowly and makes you do all the work as he palms himself lazily over his pants. “I wish they could see you now baby, absolutely pathetic and I haven’t even given you the real thing yet.” He says, your eyes threatening to roll back into your head as a loud moan rips its way from your throat. “Fuck. Please.” You whine, your heartbeat speeding up as the tight cord winding itself in your stomach threatens to break. A bead of sweat makes its way down the side of your face as you buck your hips up again, meeting the thrusts of your own fingers.

You sit up a little, your body trembling as you watch Eddie slowly unbuckle his belt. You trail your eyes up to his face where he’s biting his lip, his eyes staring into yours as you continue to pleasure yourself. He laughs a little when he sees tears on the corners of your eyes. “Aww darlin’ you’re so ready aren’t you? Go ahead, let me see you cum, give me a show baby.” It takes you no more than a small thrust of your fingers before you’re letting go. Your wetness spreads all over yourself and down onto Eddie’s seat as he watches. You can hear him talking you through it but the blood rushing behind your ears keeps you from hearing what he’s actually saying.

He gives you no time to recover, you hear something rush past you into the back of the van before Eddie’s on you like a wild animal. He slowly strokes himself a few times, rubbing the head of his cock right against your clit as you squirm underneath him crying and begging for him to fuck you already. He stops teasing only to reach down and slap your pussy, once, twice, three times. You yelp and just as you go to sit up to scold him he thrusts into you, practically knocking the wind out of your lungs. “Y’gonna scream for me sugar? Let all my friends hear how much of a slut you really are for me?”

“F-uckkk Eddie please!” You scream out, the slapping of Eddie’s skin against yours growing louder as he thrusts harder than before. He reaches under your ass to pull you up some, angling you just right so with every thrust his cock rubs up against your g-spot. “That’s it sugar, it’s okay I got you, let go. Cum on this dick and let everyone hear who makes you feel this good.” Your body trembles beneath him, your stomach flips at his dirty words as you look down and watch him sliding in and out of you. The drag of his cock, enough to make you feel like you’re on another planet entirely as you finally give up. Your eyes roll back as your mouth babbles on, Eddie grips onto your hips, his blunt nails digging into your skin as you feel his cock twitch inside of you. His deep moans blend with yours creating a delicious melody as he fills you up.

You hear him laugh as you both come down from your high, he slowly pulls out of you leaving you empty and sore as you open your eyes to look up at him. “What’s so funny?” You say, your voice rough from how loud you were being, he smiles at you before leaning down to kiss your forehead, moving some of the hair that’s stuck to it away. “Oh, s’nothin. Just thinking how funny it is that you’re a freak, and they have no idea.” You bite your lip before giggling, slapping his arm slightly as you sit up to fix your clothes. You don’t bother with finding your panties as you watch Eddie reach into the back of the van, grabbing his pants. “Well, next time maybe we’ll have to give them a real show, Eddie.” You whisper, running your tongue up the side of his ear, his cock throbs at your words, a low moan slipping from his lips.

tag list- @voyeurmunson @vecslut @littlexdeaths @xxbimbobunnyxx @josephquinnsfreckles

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #southern!eddie #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #stranger things smut #joseph quinn smut #eddie x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female character #eddie smut

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yesihaveaobsession · 2 days

Text

The Lean

Alastor x female reader

Summary: You ask Alastor to do THE LEAN on the doorframe that the book men do ;)

A/N- I GOT GIDDY WRITING THIS MYSELF :D

You always had your nose in a book, usually a romance novel featuring tall, dark, and handsome men. On this particular day, you wanted to conduct an "experiment," and you had the perfect candidate: The Radio Demon. You had asked around to find him because he was ALWAYS somewhere.

"Did you check the radio tower?" Charlie said.

"His shady bedroom?" Angel said.

Well, he just so happened to be walking down the narrow hallway of the hotel, humming a merry tune with his head up, eyes closed, and spinning his cane.

"Alastor! Just the man I wanted to see," you said. He stopped humming and halted in his tracks, turning to look at you.

"Is that so, my dear? And what can I offer you?" he smiled at you. You hoped he would agree to your experiment.

"Come here," you instructed him, and he obliged. "Do you think you could imitate the book men leaning against the doorframe for me?" you asked. He only raised a brow, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

"Why, my dear, whatever for?" he inquired.

"Just for an experiment," you said, one step closer to your goal. He is the perfect candidate: tall, dark, and, as some like Angel Dust would say, creepy, but you generally found him quite handsome. You weren't sure why or what brought you to this conclusion, but hey.

Although Alastor let out a hum, his interest was piqued. "Alright then, I shall indulge you. What is it that you wish to accomplish with this?"

"You know how in those romance novels, the book men always lean against the doorframe all casually, with one arm up like this?" you mimicked the pose, raising your arm and resting it above your head. His stance mirrored that of a book man leaning against the door frame as you had described. His dark eyes roamed you slowly, his lip curled in a taunting smirk. "Like this?"

Effortlessly adopting the pose you described, his tall frame seemed to fill the space with an air of charm and sophistication, sending a shiver of delight down your spine. Alastor's gaze softened as he looked down at you, his eyes hooded with a hint of affection. A warmth spread through your chest as you gazed into his mesmerizing eyes, completely lost in the moment.

You couldn't help but feel giddy and have a blush creep up on your cheeks. Alastor let out another hum as he observed your reaction, replying with a big toothy grin. "Was this the desired effect of this experiment, my dear?" he asked playfully, as his one arm rested above his head, his other hand on your cheek.

His fingers gently trailed along your jawline, noticing that your blush was deepening by the second, while his one arm still rested on the doorframe above his head. "Okay, okay," you said, getting giddy again as you looked into his eyes, which looked right back at yours. You couldn't bring yourself to not fall right into him and lean on the little space he left on the doorframe; it was almost like he was caging you in.

"You know, my dear, watching you blush is rather... endearing..." You shoved him playfully, and he soon pushed off the doorframe. Turning on his heel, he paused and looked back at you.

"Thanks for letting me be your test monkey," he said, making his merry way, leaving you standing there stunned.

#alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor x you #hazbin alastor #the radio demon #alastor imagine #alastor x reader #i have an obsession

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vivwritesfics · 1 day

Text

Max Verstappen Shirt

The fans and fellow wags don't like it when she wears the same out fit to a Grand Prix. She doesn't much care

There were quite a few things Max liked about dating an ordinary girl. 1) she had no idea who he was. 2) she had no idea who his friends were. 3) she didn't expect anything from him.

Max could get takeout for them while they watched a movie and she would be happy. He didn't have to take her out to fancy, overpriced restaurants. He didn't have to take her out shopping for a new outfit every time they left the apartment.

Now, Max would have done all if this I'd she asked. But she didn’t ask. She appreciated him the way he was.

It was a little while into their relationship before Max took her to her first Grand Prix. Her outfit was cute and extremely weather appropriate. A cute top and a cute pair of jeans. Max walked her through the paddock with his hand on the small of her back.

When Max won, he ran over to his team, jumping into their arms. And then he was taking his helmet off, replaced it with his hat and walked over to her, kissing her slowly. (It was captured on video, and circulated the Internet for weeks. Every time it came across her feed, she couldn't stop herself from sending it to Max).

At the next Grand Prix she dressed as well as she could. The jeans were the same, but the top was different. Her outfit was both complimented and criticised online.

Not that she saw the criticism. No, all she saw was the video of Max kissing her after his win. Of her wrapping her arms so tight around him as she peppered kisses all over his face beforing giving him maybe the most memorable kiss of his life.

She knew Max had money. She was aware of it every time she flew in his private jet. Every time she stayed in his Monaco apartment. Every time he drove her in his cars. She knew he had money, but she didn't want him buying her stuff.

No, that wasn't the reason she was with him. She wasn't there because he was an F1 driver, because he could buy her everything she ever wanted. She was there because he was a cute, slightly dorky guy that she wanted to spend every waking minute with.

She remembered the first time she wore the same thing twice to a Grand Prix. The outfit was so cute, but it didn't matter how cute it was.

So far, all of the other wags had been so lovely to her. They were kind, but she hadn't been around long enough to really be friends with any of them.

It was Daniels girlfriend that pulled her to one side before the race. The two had spent the most time together out of any of the wags she had met so far (aided by Maxs friendship with Daniel).

"Hey Love," she said, wearing a charming smile as she wrapped her arms around her. "I love the top. Have I seen it before?" Daniels girlfriend asked.

Y/N couldn't help but grin as she looked down at her top. "Thanks!" She grinned. "Found it really cheap, wore it to Monaco," she said.

Daniels girlfriend sucked in a breath. "Well, as a general rule, Wags don't wear the same outfit to two grand prix," she said, her hand on her shoulder. "Not unless they really have to."

The way she said it, she was clearly implying something. But she wasn't the only person thinking it. There were people online saying the same thing.

"Well, nice catching up," Daniels girlfriend said and walked away, leaving her alone.

She couldn't bring herself to look dejected as she walked back to the Red Bull garage. Unlike other Wags, she didn't have the funds for a new outfit every race. Max would have been only too happy to buy her a new outfit for every Grand Prix if she asked.

But she wouldn't ask.

"What's up?" Asked Max as she walked towards him with an unintentional pout on her lips.

She quickly replaced the pout with when she looked up at him. "Nothing," she said. "Just hold me."

Doubt and all kinds of negative feelings consumed her. But she was a fighter and she needed to do something about it.

There are incredible things you can find on Etsy, like This Shirt Right Here. She bought herself one. No, she bought herself five. The first time she turned up wearing one, it was iconic. The second time she went to a Grand Prix wearing one, it was still iconic.

If the wags and the fans had a problem with her wearing the same thing to each Grand Prix, they could suck her dick.

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ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused · 3 days

Note

You asked for Spencer Reid and Reader requests, particularly plus size, and I am so down bad for that man! Especially later seasons him.

Could I have one where he and the reader are intellectual peers but also enemies? Like she's on the team and just as wicked smart as him and into old literature and languages but they constantly butt heads? And the team knows they really just have feelings for each other, but they'll never admit it. Maybe the reader admits it to Penelope or someone one night drinking that he's hot but she never thought he'd actually sleep with her bc she's fat, but she'll take his attention any way she can get it. Maybe Spencer overhears and proceeds to show her just how hot he finds her arguing with him? 👀 Thank you in advance, girlie!

༉‧₊˚. 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 || 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

— pairing: spencer reid x plus size!reader

— summary: you and spencer hate each other, that much is obvious... right?

— warnings: very surprisingly crude language in this, self-doubt, implied insecurities, misunderstandings, e2l, they're in love and everyone else knows besides them, i made them dorks i don't apologize, mentions of wet dreams, mentions of male masturbation, dirty thoughts, kissing, stripping, vaginal fingering, spencer's dirty mouth, lots of reassurance 'cause i'm a sap, spencer reid #1 consent king, missionary, unprotected sex, sex god spencer?!?! (he does his research), pleasure dom!spencer, switch r & spencer, heavy praise, and a fluffy ending to tie this all up in a nice little bow!

— wc: 3136

⋆ a/n: okay i do admit that this is RIDICULOUSLY long, but i knew exactly what i was getting into writing this and honestly i had so much fun! i don't think i've ever created such characters that have so much chemistry with each other, so cheers to that! (unedited unfortunately :[)

masterlist | AO3

As soon as you hear Spencer’s voice, you make a point to groan obnoxiously loud.

“And just to think I would be able to go home without a headache today.”

You could feel the glare from said man burning a hole in the back of your head, so you swivel your chair around in order to face the music – in a pleasurable masochist kind of way. His annoyingly handsome face was twisted up in irritation – much to your glee – his eyebrows turned down, and his perfect, plush lips pulled into a deep frown.

You could tell you had interrupted him saying something that he deemed important, most likely a fact that you and him would go back and forth on, and you couldn’t be more pleased with yourself.

“Funny you mention that seeing as though your voice is the cause of mine.” He bit back, his eyes narrowed into slits. “Aw, you think of my voice?” You tease. “Only in my nightmares.” You wink at him. “You still think about me.”.

“You know what this reminds me of?” Luke piped up from his own desk, drawing the attention from your other intrigued co-workers in the bullpen. “Oh here we go.” Tara said in amusement at Luke’s rambling.

“Back when I was a kid there was this girl that I went to school with, and I would always tug on her hair or try to trip her,” His voice was almost reminiscent. “Everyone thought I hated her, when in reality I was just trying to get her attention.”

“Ah,” Matt said with a smile, “The classic ‘boy bullying the girl he likes,’ or in this case, it’s the girl this time.” Your cheeks began to heat and your eyes went wide, Spencer’s own face and the tips of his ears turning an admirable pink hue.

“Absolutely not -”

“What? No -”

Both Spencer and you stumbled over each other to try and defend yourself, but you didn’t have a chance because Emily’s voice cut through whatever was about to be said next, the woman making haste from her office and into the room with the round table.

“Alright you guys, enough. We’ve got a case.”

“To a job well done!” Penelope cheered as she held up her citrusy alcoholic beverage in the air, signaling she wanted to toast.

You smiled indulgently at the woman sitting next to you, clinking your glass with hers noisily and flickering your eyes over to where a disheveled Spencer Reid sat. You didn’t say anything to him though, because you’re a big ol’ softie and like to let the boy wonder rest before you have him back on his toes.

His eyes met yours the same time your glasses collided. You wish you could say that the vibrations from the clinking was the cause of the shiver that forced its way down your spine, but you knew better.

It was like the rest of the bar disappeared, the sound of the others joining in on your rejoicing fell on deaf ears. You could have sworn his dark brown puppy-dog eyes drank you in before he looked away and cleared his throat, taking a rather comically large gulp of his water.

Your eyelashes fluttered like a thousand butterflies wings as you rushed to drink your own beverage.

“Okay, what was that!?” You felt Penelope’s finger poke at your ribs before you actually heard her.

“Ow - fuck! What was what?” You yelped quietly, your hand reaching down to bat away her stabbing digits. “The - the -” She fought to portray her words before her face lit up when she found the correct ones, “The eyefucking!”

Your stomach erupted in butterflies, “Eyefucking? What eyefucking?” You asked with a scoff, hiding your blush behind the rim of your mug.

“Oh, please, don’t give me that.” It was Penelope’s turn to scoff at you. “Everybody knows that you and Spencer like each other.” She said it almost like it was a fact, leaning forward to take a smug sip of her drink through the miniature black straw.

Spencer knew listening in on Penelope and your conversation was inappropriate; but in his defense, you guys weren’t really quiet about what you were talking about.

“I -” He heard you begin, “It’s one-sided.” Was all you said before draining your beer. “So you admit it!” Penelope exclaimed with a gasp.

Spencer felt his eyes go wide at her words, but there was this desperate feeling that spread throughout his body; one that caused his fingers to twitch and the hair stand up on the back of his neck.

“When you put it like that it sounds childish!” You complained slightly, biting at the meat of your lip. “I… I’m just not his type you know? Like - you know better than anyone that guys don’t pay attention to girls like us, so you have to learn to improvise.” You were cringing at your own words, but the liquid in your cup was enough to loosen your tongue and lower your inhibitions.

“Was me choosing to constantly argue with him the smartest way to try and peak his interest? No, but I knew he liked a challenge and well… it definitely wasn’t the proudest conclusion I ever came to, but what was I supposed to do? It isn’t like Spencer would date me let alone actually want to sleep with me.”

Spencer wanted to argue with you about how wrong you were, to tell you about every thought he’d ever had about you.

He wanted to tell you about how much you frustrate him, how at first, he thought he hated you and it took him an embarrassingly long time to realize he hated how badly he wanted you; hated how many dirty dreams he had included you and that plush body of yours. He’d wondered how soft you were, how you smelled and tasted.

Did your moans and whines sound as enchanting as your laugh? Did your eyes twinkle the same way when you were about to cum?

Those thoughts kept him up at night and his hands in his pants, stroking himself to his unlimited imagination all revolved around you. Those were the days that he was more prone to pick fights with you, mostly because he was embarrassed, ashamed, and quite frankly plain ol’ horny.

Spencer thought you were just so sexy, especially when he had managed to light that fire under your ass that really got you going. He wasn’t a sadist or a masochist by any means, but he loved when you yelled at him. So, for you to think so lowly of yourself it almost drove him mad because you didn’t know.

But you were going to.

You were going to kill whoever was bothering you on your day off.

The knocking was unexpected, but so was who was responsible for the noise.

“Spencer?” You asked in surprise.

Usually you were prepared for your exchanges with the man, but if your pajamas were anything to go by, you were anything but. Spencer felt his mouth go dry at the sight of your tits sitting braless in a thin undershirt, your soft tummy slightly straining against the cotton material and a pair of shorts that look like they were practically strangling your thighs.

The only thing he could really say was… “Do you know how infuriating you are?”

Your eyebrows furrowed and you crossed your arms over your chest, and little did you know the action pressed the tops of your breasts over the hemline. “Excuse me?” You almost scoffed, “Please don’t tell me you came all the way here just to argue with me.”

“No I - fuck just let me finish.” This was not how he wanted this to go. You looked like you wanted to say something but your curiosity made you choose to stay silent.

“Do you know why you’re so infuriating?” He asked, taking a tentative but careful step towards you. “Because you haunt my every living thought. I see you when I’m awake, I see you when I’m asleep. I can’t… I can’t escape you! I can’t escape how I feel about you.”

Your eyes were wide and your brows were furrowed; it looked like you almost couldn’t breathe.

“But you want to know the worst part?” His hand lands on your cheek and his thumb gently caresses the skin there. “You have the audacity to think that I wouldn’t want you.”

“You want me?” You asked in disbelief. “But I… but I thought you hated me? I mean - I haven’t been all that nice to you.” You attempt to joke weakly, but your body is on fire; your stomach is tangled up in knots. You were trembling in excitement at his words but in disbelief too.

“Do you have any idea how much I love arguing with you?”

You laughed at his words, your lips slipping into a small smirk as you threw your arms around his neck in an act of boldness. “Oh yeah?” You hummed seductively. “You wanna show me how much?”

“Yeah,” He replied breathlessly. “I do.”

And just like that his mouth was on yours and a long leg shot out behind him to shut your front door. The slam made you yelp, but it quickly melted into a giggle against his lips when he reconnected them.

Spencer tugged you closer to him, and God the feeling of your body was so much better than anything his subconscious could have conjured up. You felt so soft and the front part of your torso pressed against his chest in a way that if he didn’t have you naked under him soon he was going to go crazy.

“Where’s your bedroom?” He didn’t want to pull away from you, but he wanted to do this right.

“I didn’t know you were a gentleman, Reid.” You teased with a dazed smile on your face. “There’s a lot of things that you don’t know about me.” You quirked a brow. “Oh really? How about you tell me?”

“Later,” He said with a lazy shake of his head, “Later.”

His hand reached down to cup your ass, your crotch rubbing on the large boner restrained by his pants. You moaned quietly at the feeling, and found yourself saying, “Down the hall and to the left.”

When you arrived, he couldn’t keep his hands off you; they grabbed at your back, ass, waist, hips. There was so much of you that he had no idea where to start. All he knew is that he wanted all of you right now.

“Can I take your shirt off, please?” His words almost came out as a whine and it welcomed a fresh wave of arousal in your panties. “Take off whatever you want, I’m yours.” A reassuring confession that Spencer had no idea he needed to hear.

His lithe, veiny hands tugged at your top first, dragging it over your head and throwing it somewhere random. Your pants and panties were next to go and you couldn’t help but shiver at Spencer's intense stare.

“I’m uh- feeling a little vulnerable here, could you lose a layer or two?”

The man blinked rapidly, his fingers shooting to undo the buttons on his cardigan. “Yes, yeah of course, sorry I -'' You grabbed the shaky digits. “Calm down, take it slow. I’m not going anywhere.” It was a light jab meant to ease his nerves. For a moment he looked unsure but you gave an encouraging smile.

After his clothes disappeared he held you by your waist, walking you backwards until your calves hit the bed. You quickly hurried to scale the mattress until your head hit the pillows.

“God,” Spencer gulped. “This is so much better than what I imagined.” You giggled slightly. “As much as I appreciate your flattery, I want you to fuck me. Now.” You said it with such simplicity that his eyes nearly bulged out of his sockets at your crudeness.

He swallowed his shock. “Whatever the lady wants.”

He hurried to crawl over your leaning body; you cup his cheek in an act of haste, dragging him down to lay on top of you. His own hands didn’t stop their determined trail, tracing the soft planes of your plush body until he reached your wet cunt.

You whine loudly at the feeling of Spencer’s fingers stroking your damp slit.

“So responsive.” He murmured with delighted smirk. You go to say something snarky but you’re quickly cut off when he begins to rub tight circles on your clit. “‘M sensitive.” You gasp against his lips, your back arching and pressing further into him.

His body falls to the side, laying next to your naked one with a cheek balanced on his fist. “I’m gonna make you cum on my fingers first,” Spencer whispers into your ear. His ring finger entered your warmth slowly and he felt himself choke on his words. You mewled, a hand shooting up to tangle in his long, curly hair, the other grabbed at his wrist.

“Then, I’m gonna make you cum on my cock.” After a few experimental twists of his wrist, his middle finger joins the first. Your breathing speeds up with every movement of his digits.

“Afterwards, ‘m gonna clean you up and take you out to eat.” Your brain could barely process what he was saying, but every word that left his mouth added to the swarming butterflies in your gut – which felt so juvenile seeing as though he was already knuckle deep inside you.

“And when we get home, I’m gonna eat this sweet pussy for dessert.”

Your eyelashes were fluttering rapidly, your hips moving frantically on his fingers in an attempt to try and get him deeper. Spencer must have sensed what you needed, because with a few firm swipes on your sensitive clit sent you spiraling over the edge.

“Spencer, Spencer, Spencer… I - I -” Your gummy walls squeezed his digits, and the only thing keeping you grounded was the heat coming from his body.

“Wow.” You laughed breathlessly. “Wow indeed.” He mimics with the same amount of amusement.

“Are you okay to keep going?” He asks.

“Are you kidding?” The look on his face was almost laughable, and you gave his naked chest an encouraging pat. “Hell yeah I’m good, how about you?”

“If I told you I could cum just from watching you, would you believe me?” You roll your eyes and snort. “We’ll find out later, loverboy. Get up here.”

He scrambles to get on top of you, but then stops. “Wait, wait,” He reaches behind your head and grabs a pillow. “Lift your hips up for me.” Your eyes go wide, because who in the fuck taught him that? Though you move a bit slowly through your surprise, he manages to get the soft thing under you, your lower back now elevated.

But all excitement dies out when he realizes there might be no protection, he looks like he could almost cry.

“It’s cool, Spence. I’m on the pill and I… I haven’t had sex with anyone in an embarrassingly long time.” You admit shyly, your eyes casting to the side nervously. “I’m clean too. I don’t really remember the last time I’ve had sex either.”

You guys make eye contact and erupt into a fit of giggles, “To relearning the art of sexual intercourse then.” Spencer scrunches his nose up at your wording, but you don’t give him any time to retort because you’ve already placed two hands on his face, tugging his head down to kiss your smile-split lips.

He takes the time to kiss you for a moment before reaching down to line his dick up to your entrance. You both shiver at the sensation. You guys disconnect your lips to watch him enter you, your foreheads pressed together and breaths mingled in anticipation.

You moaned in unison when he slowly but surely seethed himself in you fully, and your body tensed at the long awaited intrusion. “Gimme a sec.” You gulped. “Yeah, yeah, of course.” He panted.

You allowed yourself a moment to relax, brushing your fingers through his curls as a way to comfort Spencer as well. After taking a few more seconds to enjoy the raw, intimate moment between the two of you, you said, “Okay. Okay, I’m good.”

Spencer licked his lips and rolled his hips tentatively, and your breath hitched. A string of whimpers were soon to follow with every drag of his cock against your sensitive inner walls, the leftovers of your previous orgasm leaving your body feeling electric.

Your mouth drops open into an ‘o’ shape when his tip brushes your g-spot.

“Right - right there Spence…good boy - fuck - good fucking boy.”

The term of endearment was an accidental slip of the tongue, but it had frayed some nerve in his body, because the groan that left him was guttural and hungry.

“Say -” He huffs. “Say it again, please.” The pace of his thrusts speed up as he begs, and your nails drag down his back. “You’re my good boy, Spencie.” His eyes flutter shut at the praise and he doesn’t bother to be gentle anymore.

“Mphm! More - I need more.”

“Okay, okay.” He rushed to balance on his elbow so that his other arm could slip between the two of your bodies to rub at your clit. Your back arched, and Spencer all but throbbed inside of you, his balls tightening and threatening to cum right then and there; but ever the gentleman, he waited, his stomach sucked in tightly and his body jolting quivering.

“I - I’m gonna cum.”

It didn’t take much to pull you into a kiss. It was sloppy, and messy, and lewd and all of those other wonderful synonyms. Spit dribbled down your chins and with one last hard thrust that almost sent you up the bed, you gripped onto the older man for dear life.

Everything went white as you came; your hearing, your vision, every single cognitive thought you had pretty much flew out the window.

It was Spencer gently wiping the sweat off of your brow that brought you back down to reality, your lungs finally opening up and expanding for that much needed air.

“Hey,” He cooed. “There you are.”

“Hi,” You sighed with a ditzy smile on your face.

There was a moment of silence before you said, “How about we save the oral for breakfast?” Spencer laughed, but nonetheless nodded in agreement. “That sounds perfect.”

“So, what’s for dessert then?” He couldn’t help but ask. “Hm…” You pondered for a moment.

“How about ice cream?”

“I like ice cream.” But then he added, “But I like you more.”

“Ugh, you’re the worst.” You groaned, covering your eyes, but your grin gave you away. “I like you too, I guess.”

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @celtic-crossbow @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @alixwriter @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus @khxna

621 notes · View notes

moonstruckme · 3 days

Note

Can you maybe do something with one of the marauders being protective of reader (not poly just a marauder of your choice)

Thanks for requesting!

cw: slightly possessive behavior

roommate!James x fem!reader ♡ 883 words

“Who-oa.” James gawps as you walk past his room, and you turn your head to hide a little smile. “Where are you going so dolled up?”

Your smile slips, brow pinching. “Do I look dolled up?” You backtrack a couple of steps, stopping in front of James’ doorway. “Is it too much?”

“I don’t think so,” he says, regarding you from where he sits on his bed. He leans back on his hands. “You look nice. I only say ‘dolled up’ because you’ve got a tad more makeup on than usual, and you’re wearing that top that makes your eyes look pretty. I guess, ah, whether it’s too much might depend on where you’re going. Which is…?”

“Is the makeup that obvious?”

“No, but I see you every day. Where are you going?”

“Dinner.” You blow out a breath, starting back down the hall.

You hear James’ mattress squeak, and then he’s following you. Down the stairs and into the kitchen. “Dinner with whom, may I ask?”

“A friend of a friend. Have you seen my chapstick?”

“Is this a date?”

You pause for a second in your search before jump-starting again. “Using the word makes me nervous.”

“Sorry,” James laughs, the sound like sunlight refracting off water. It relaxes you slightly. “I thought you hated going on dates.”

“I’m trying to get over it.” You check behind the coffee maker, frowning. “Seriously, I don’t have another tube of chapstick. I thought I left it in here yesterday.”

“Did you maybe put it in your bag when we went for pizza last night?”

James’ eyes crease with his smile when your expression lightens. “You’re so right,” you say, starting back for the stairs. “Thanks.”

“No problem. So, have you met this guy before?”

“Nope.” In your haste you miss a step, but James’ hand is right there to steady you. You keep going. “It’s like an arranged marriage, except instead of meeting him at the altar I’m meeting him when he picks me up.”

“Charming. And when is he picking you up?”

“Any minute now.” Your voice is pitchy with false cheer, betraying the hummingbird-fast beating of your heart.

“Doesn’t it worry you that you’re entrusting your safety for the night to this man you’ve never met?”

Your hands are actually trembling as you grab the chapstick from the bag you’d used last night, sticking it in your pocket. “It does, yeah. Thanks for the reminder.”

You turn back around, but James catches you. His hands are warm on your upper arms and his gaze is kind. Steady.

“Sorry,” he says, “I’m not trying to freak you out. I just want to make sure you’ll be okay. Are you bringing your alarm?”

“It’s a public place, James. Ideally he’s not the type to try anything regardless, but surely he won’t in a restaurant.” He looks dissatisfied. “But yes, it’s in my pocket.”

“Attagirl.” James gives your arms a squeeze before releasing you, flopping down on your bed.

It’s not a second later that the doorbell rings and he’s popping right back up again, hot on your heels as you go down the stairs.

“What are you doing?” you hiss, batting him away as you go for the door. “Go be somewhere else!”

James holds up his hands in surrender and sits down on the couch, but his eyes are trained on the door as you open it up to greet the man outside.

“Hi,” you say, plastering on a smile.

“Hi.” He smiles back. He’s handsome, well-dressed, and carrying flowers. You’re instantly charmed. “Are you y/n? My friend gave me this address.”

“Yeah,” you laugh, and it comes out awkward and pitchy. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“And you are?” Suddenly James is behind you, leaning over your shoulder.

Your date blinks. He says his name like it’s a question.

“Sorry, this is just my roommate.” You laugh again, the nerves in it even more prominent now, and try to shoulder James back from the door.

Unfortunately, James is an immovable wall of solid muscle. He acts like he doesn’t notice. “Nice to meet you. And your last name?”

“James!” You turn to him, appalled. Tell your date, “Ignore him. I’m so sorry.”

“I just feel like it’d be good information to have,” James says with a shrug. You think he’s trying to look intimidating, but it’s really not a very practiced air on him. His big frame does something to make up for it though, biceps bulging where they’re crossed in front of his chest. To you, he still looks decidedly huggable, but your date appears as though he’s garnered a different impression.

“But anyway, you two have fun.” James smiles. You’d have to really know him to know he doesn’t mean it. “Enjoy dinner, and have her back by ten.”

You and your date both chuckle, though you can tell from your roommate’s expression that he’s not fully joking. He keeps up the affable grin anyway.

“Okay, dad,” you tease, squeezing out the door and starting down the front steps. Your date follows. “I’ll see you later.”

“See you at ten.” James steps into the doorframe, waving. “I’ll be here. Don’t forget that your safety alarm is in your pocket!”

Your face heats. When you get home, you’re going to kill him.

554 notes · View notes

rhaenella · 2 days

Text

LN4 | Challenge Accepted

pairing: lando norris x non-driver!reader

genre: one shot ✿

summary: it’s been five years since the last chinese gp, so when you and lando are set up to race each other on the shanghai circuit on mclaren’s state of the art simulator, anything is possible…

word count: 5.6k

masterlist

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

The sound of feet tapping restlessly against the floor, alternated by the squeaking of a swivel chair spinning round, echoed through the large hall at McLaren HQ. With a sigh, you refreshed your social media—again—but there were no new posts of any kind to keep you occupied. You’d already gone through all of them.

Your boyfriend and F1 driver, Lando Norris, was somewhere in the massive building, filming interviews, challenges and whatnot for the McLaren social media platforms. He had asked if you'd come with him today, mostly because you already saw so little of each other due to his busy schedule. Not that you saw much of each other right now, but at least there wasn’t an ocean between you like there usually was.

Besides, he’d promised he would wrap up as quickly as he could, and take you out for dinner. So. The wait was worth it. Even though you were bored out of your mind for the foreseeable future.

After walking up and down the hall’s boulevard four times over, admiring all of the beautiful, historical cars on display, you had checked out the trophy wall, which was just as impressive. But since you weren’t allowed access anywhere else inside the building, at least not without a chaperone, there wasn’t much else for you to do or see. That’s how you found yourself in your current situation, spinning around in a chair like an impatient five-year-old, the line of racing cars and the lake outside whooshing by.

“Y/N?”

The chair came to an abrupt stop. “Yea–yes?” you squinted at the blurry figure in front of you.

Maybe it hadn’t been such a great idea to spin around so many times that your vestibular system now made it feel like you were on a ship battling a terrible storm. Luckily, once your vision cleared, you recognised the person instantly. It was Lando’s performance engineer, Andrew Jarvis. You’d seen him around race tracks a few times—he was always very friendly and kind to you.

“Jarv! Hi, how are you?”

“I’m good, thanks. What about yourself?”

“Oh, good, good… Enjoying the scenery,” you sneered, waving a hand.

“Right,” he drawled, looking you up and down with an amused smile. “Bored?”

“Yes,” you groaned, sinking a little deeper into the chair. “So. Fucking. Bored.”

Jarv chuckled. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I’m afraid Lando is still tied up. I think he and Oscar are filming some kind of… song challenge? I don’t know,” he shrugged with another laugh. “It’s not exactly my area of expertise.”

Your lips quirked up. “Imagine if it was. You could start hiding strategy calls in songs and sing them over the board radio.”

He wavered. “That would be…”

“Genius?”

“Eh, well,” he faltered, his mouth twitching all the same.

“Right. Maybe not,” you laughed.

Although, privately you thought it would be a hilarious idea. With a tinge of brilliance, perhaps. But the pinnacle of motorsport would probably be a little too serious to see it your way.

“I’m obviously not an engineer, or a strategist, or a driver. So, I guess I’ll just stay here,” you sighed, patting the armrests of your new friend, the swivel chair. “And try to excel in exercising patience instead.”

Jarv nodded, his brows furrowing. “Maybe you don’t have to…”

You eyed him with a suspicious look. “What do you mean?”

He checked his watch and glanced around before looking back to you, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “I have an idea. Come with me.”

Jarv had already turned on his heel before you could object, expecting you to blindly follow him to wherever it was he intended to take you. Which you did… without too much thought. Let’s just say boredom got the best of you. Choosing between sitting another god knows how many hours in that chair, or doing something—anything—the choice wasn’t hard. So, you leaped from your seat, sprinting to catch up with him.

“Wait!”

He slowed down, and you fell into step beside him. “What’s your idea? Where are you taking me?”

“You’ll see.”

You neared the large double doors at the rear of the boulevard. Jarv pressed his right thumb on a small, glass box on the wall next to them, waiting for his fingerprint to be authorised. The system scanned his print, and the light tinged green. “Welcome, Mr. Jarvis,” a female voice said as the doors automatically opened in front of you.

“Nice.”

Jarv grinned, gesturing for you to precede him into the restricted wing of McLaren HQ. The part that the general public never got to see. You gazed around in amazement. You knew it was a large building, but it was more like a maze back here, and you quickly lost all sense of direction.

“I should probably text Lando, he’s gonna wonder where I’ve disappeared to.”

“Don’t worry, Lando is heading where we’re going, too.”

You relaxed a little at that, however your curiosity didn’t subside as you trailed after Jarv throughout the many long corridors. Where the hell were you going?

The behind the scenes looked arguably even more impressive than all the trophies and race-winning cars that were being flaunted in the entrance hall. You passed countless offices, labs, and workshops where employees were working on top-secret updates for the MCL38, or perhaps even next year’s car. And although Jarv kept up a good pace, you were still able to sneak a few glimpses here and there, thanks to all the glass walls. Most of the technology looked so futuristic, you felt like you had accidentally stepped onto the set of a sci-fi film.

Jarv made a sharp right turn down another hallway. This one only had one door at the end, and it wasn’t made out of glass like the rest of them, which prevented you from being able to see what was behind it.

You read the sign next to the door, which only added to the mystery.

Strictly No Admittance. Authorised Personnel Only.

“This is it,” Jarv said, retrieving a key to unlock the door, opening it wide.

Well, there was your authorisation.

You stepped into the mysterious, dimly lit room, your eyes gradually widening with awe.

The room was roughly twelve by twelve metres, and in the centre stood two professionally altered Formula 1 cars, both with their own 180-degree widescreens set up in a semicircle around them. The back wall was lined with large computer screens, a row of chairs stationed in front of them, which gave you the feeling you were looking at a small-scale pitwall.

Holy… beep.

Speaking of futuristic tech, this was way up there.

“Welcome to the McLaren simulation room.”

You whirled around to face Jarv, beaming. “This is incredible. I’ve never seen a sim like this before.”

It was true. Sure, Lando had his own simulator at home in Monaco. But it was nothing compared to this piece of craftsmanship.

Jarv hummed, smiling as he walked to the faux-pitwall. “So. You ready to try it out?”

You blinked. “Ready to–wait a minute… what?”

You stared at Jarv as he turned on the computers, pressing buttons here and there that made the right car hum to life. Next, the widescreen around the car powered up as well, causing a wave of light to brighten the otherwise dark room.

“Jarv?”

He opened a cabinet, retrieving a steering wheel before he walked to the simulator. “Come on, don’t tell me you don’t want to.”

“That’s not it,” you trailed off.

“Good,” he said, turning around, looking at you expectantly. “So get in, then.”

“But… what about Lando? You said he was on his way over here. Don’t they need the room?”

“They will be here to film something in,” Jarv checked his watch again. “In a little over an hour. Until then, the room is empty, and we can use it. I presume you’ve driven a simulator before?”

“Yeah, I have… but don’t I need some kind of special clearance to use one of these?” One of these super expensive, highly accurate simulators that are solely used to train drivers and prepare the real cars and their setups for race weekends. Whatever could go wrong?

“Y/N, don’t worry about it. I’m Lando’s performance engineer. I’m one of the few that gets to decide who uses the sim.”

You shifted your weight, still unsure. “I’m not gonna be any good at it.”

“That doesn’t matter. What matters is that you have fun, or would you rather return to the waiting area?”

“No.”

Jarv’s smile widened, and he gestured to the sim, inviting you to take a seat.

You hesitantly walked up to the car, twisting your rings, a nervous habit of yours. You’d tried the simulator at Lando’s before, and like you’d already pointed out to Jarv, you weren’t any good at it. Lando had tried to talk you through it, telling you where to break and lift, but it was painfully clear you weren’t cut out to be a driver.

And now you had to drive in McLaren’s state of the art simulator, under the watchful eye of Lando’s performance engineer. The pressure was real. You didn’t want to make a complete fool out of yourself.

After you’d managed to, somewhat awkwardly, settle yourself in the sim’s seat, Jarv locked the steering wheel into place. It was familiar to you as it looked exactly like the one on Lando’s car, just like everything else on this sim. Except that it didn’t have a front or back wing, or any tyres.

“Alright, before you start driving, it’s important to know the ins and outs of the track you’re racing at. Which in this case will be Shanghai, the location of next weekend’s race,” Jarv said, pressing a few buttons.

The layout of the track popped up on the screen in front of you, with a sea of information and data appearing on the sides.

“Don’t worry about the data. We’ll stick to the basics that are of importance to you as a driver. Ready?”

You nodded.

“Good. So, the Shanghai International Circuit has sixteen corners, two DRS-zones on the main straights; one in sector three, and the other on start-finish…”

***

“I don’t know, I feel like maybe I should pursue a musical career,” Lando joked as he and Oscar followed Marion, the head of McLaren’s PR team, down the building’s corridors.

They had just finished filming another challenge for YouTube. Or Instagram. Or both. Lando didn’t really care about the specifics. It was just another part of his job. Something he’d rather be done with soon, so he could go back to his girl.

Oscar snorted. “Yes, I’m sure you’ll be a Grammy-nominated artist in no time.”

Lando grinned, agreeing with a nod.

“Alright, lads. One more, and then you’re free to go,” Marion called over her shoulder.

It was absolute music to Lando’s ears.

“What is it that we have to do?” Oscar asked.

“You’ll be racing each other on the sim, just for a couple of laps, around the Shanghai circuit.”

“I thought we were gonna train on the sim in the morning,” Lando said.

Marion nodded. “You will. This is only a short challenge for a video ahead of the Chinese Grand Prix. Because we haven’t raced there in so long, we thought it’d be fun to film your initial reaction to the track driving the MCL38.”

He and Oscar shared a look. They were always down for a race. There was no question about it.

The click-clacking of Marion’s heels bounced around the hallway as the group made their way to the simulation room. When they arrived, Will, Lando’s race engineer, and a camera and sound crew were waiting for them by the door.

“Why are you all out here? You should be setting up the cameras,” Marion scolded, looking at the men expectantly, waiting for an explanation.

But the men ignored her, instead they all looked to Lando, grinning. He frowned, not at all understanding the meaning behind the knowing looks they were sending him. What was up with them?

“Someone beat us to the sim, I’m afraid,” Will explained, his eyes still on Lando.

Marion turned to Lando as well, equally confused. “What does that mean?”

Lando met her eye and shrugged. “Hell if I know.”

As if on cue, a high pitched scream came from the simulation room, followed by a distinct, “That’s more like it!”

Will and the crew chuckled, but Marion wasn’t having it. “What on earth is going on,” she bristled, pushing past them to enter the room.

Lando followed her, but he couldn’t have been less prepared for the scene they stumbled upon next.

Occupying one of the simulators was his girlfriend, and right next to you stood Jarv, who was closely monitoring your driving, giving you short and precise instructions. You were going down the straight at full throttle, following Jarv’s pointers as you breaked and hit the curb perfectly for a smooth exit.

What the hell?

He’d thought you were still waiting for him in the entrance hall on the other side of the building. Never in a million years had he expected to find you here, racing on McLaren’s simulator, looking like you actually knew what you were doing no less.

So that’s why all the guys had been smirking at him…

“What do we have here?”

You jumped at Lando’s voice, immediately causing the car to spin and crash during your momentary lapse of concentration.

“Fuck! I was on a flying lap…”

“And a bloody good one at that,” Jarv added, proud.

Lando’s eyebrows shot up. “You were what?” His eyes flicked from you to Jarv, to you, and then back to Jarv. “Mate?”

Before Jarv could utter a word, you turned to face your boyfriend with a wide smile. “Baby, guess what?! I’m not a complete loser at this!”

“I–I’m so proud of you… but,” Lando shook his head, still not understanding any of this. “Why are you two in here?”

You grabbed onto the halo and pulled yourself out of the car to face him. “Jarv came to see how I was doing, and since I had nothing better to do, he suggested I’d give this a try,” you explained, gesturing to the sim.

“Oh, I see,” Lando smiled.

Yet he struggled to swallow the bitter taste at seeing you spending time and having fun with Jarv. All the while he had been stuck ‘working’. Not that he blamed you for it. He was the one who left you all by yourself for so long. But still…

“Uhm, but now that you’re all here,” you said, a bit sheepish, your eyes scanning the gathering crowd. “I’ll uhm, I’ll leave you to it.”

“Very well,” Marion called, but she was quickly interrupted.

“No, no, no, no. Wait a second. I need to know something first,” Will spoke, stepping forward. “Jarv, we need your professional assessment, man. How did she do?”

Marion sighed, tapping her phone to check the time, which only made her look more impatient. Lando ignored her, his eyes sliding from you to his performance engineer, curious as well.

“Y/N did great. She struggled a little at first, but the more laps she did, the better she got,” Jarv beamed. He turned to face Lando. “You know, I reckon she’d even have a good chance at beating you.”

Lando studied him. “You’re joking.”

“No, I’m being serious, mate. I’d wager good money on it.”

Marion’s annoyance evaporated within an instant, her eyes lighting up. “Oh gosh, that is a perfect idea, Jarvis.”

“What is? Gambling?”

“No,” she huffed. “I mean, instead of Lando against Oscar, we can have these two lovebirds race each other on the sim instead!”

“What?” you and Lando cried in unison.

Everyone looked at you, and your cheeks tinged a soft pink. You weren’t used to all the attention, usually preferring to keep a lower profile. Well, as much as that was possible dating a Formula 1 driver.

“Guys, I’m flattered. Truly, I am. But I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes. I know you’re all here to do a job, and that job doesn’t include me…”

“That’s right,” Lando agreed. He shot you a brief smile before addressing Marion. “Besides, she doesn’t like to be the centre of attention, and I don’t want her to embarrass herself in front of the eyes of millions.”

Something stirred inside you. “What does that mean? You don’t think I can beat you?”

“Well, sweetheart…”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” you mumbled, your eyes narrowing.

Under other circumstances, you would have agreed with him. But this last hour and a half with Jarv had boosted your confidence. It had gone really well, exceeding both of your expectations on your sim racing capabilities by miles. And maybe, some part of you, just wanted to show him that.

Like Lando, you never shied away from competition. Not if you had a chance at winning. You weren’t a hundred percent sure if you did right now. But you couldn’t deny you weren’t more than a little curious to find out. And seeing as Lando had just called you out in front of everyone, the only logical thing to do was rise to the challenge.

“You know what? I’m in.”

With that, you climbed back into the snug seat, forcing the thought of having everyone’s eyes on you to the back of your mind.

Lando’s eyes widened. “What?”

“Wonderful,” Marion exclaimed. “Let’s roll, people.”

Lando watched as everybody around him immediately jumped into action, including the camera and sound guys who got ready to put it all on film. Jarv grinned and grabbed his tablet, giving a slight nod to Will, who nodded in return and went to start up the second simulator and retrieve a steering wheel for Lando.

“I’ll be assisting Y/N, and just like with a normal race, Will can be Lando’s engineer,” Jarv said.

“Yep,” Will said, holding up the steering wheel as he walked to the other sim. “We’re good to go.”

“We are too!” one of the crewmen announced.

Marion smiled, but it faded when she noticed Lando still standing by the door, not having moved an inch. “What are you waiting for? Get in the car,” she said.

She started pushing Lando in the direction of the other sim, but he stood his ground.

“Hold on. We can’t do this.”

“What? Why not?”

“Yeah, why not?”

Lando sighed. “You know why.”

Did they? Did he?

Lando loved to race, and he certainly loved you. So what was stopping him from combining the two?

He wasn’t scared of losing—he never has been, and never would. Not that there was any real chance that you, an inexperienced ‘driver’, could beat him today. There was simply no way.

He’d seen you try the sim at his house, and despite his best efforts, you were, for lack of a better term, absolute rubbish. But then again, Jarv had seemed so sure of himself. That man didn’t lie or exaggerate. He would give it to you straight if you underperformed or weren’t any good. Lando had always admired and respected that.

So, had Jarv been able to unearth some sort of racing talent that was buried deep inside of you? Something that Lando himself hadn’t managed to uncover…

Was that why he hesitated going up against you? His sense of pride?

Lando groaned internally. If anything, that should make him that much more adamant to race you.

He looked over to see you were already staring at him, ambition burning bright in your eyes. Ambition to beat him. At the thing he did best… It was alluring, and Lando felt his own competitiveness flare.

“No, we don’t. Honestly, what’s stopping you?”

“It’s only five laps. It’ll be a piece of cake for you, Norris.”

“Unless that’s the problem,” Jarv joked. “Maybe he needs to warm up and familiarise himself with the track first…”

“I think all of you are forgetting that I’m the only one here who actually raced in Shanghai,” Lando shot back, unconsciously taking a step towards the sim.

“And how did that work out for you, mate?” Oscar chimed in.

Lando glared at him and Oscar struggled to contain his laughter.

“Even better,” you exclaimed, reclaiming your boyfriend’s attention. “You have on track experience and I’ve had a little time to prepare with Jarv. That’s fair enough, right?”

“Y/N… are you sure you want to…”

He was so close to giving in. He knew it, you knew it, probably everyone did. Besides, you had one more trick up your sleeve. One that would surely make his competitive side overshadow any lingering doubts, and get him to race you in that other sim.

“When have you ever walked away from a race? Hm? Unless you’re scared you’ll lose…”

That struck the intended chord.

Oh, she didn’t, Lando thought.

You gave him your most innocent looking smile, but he knew damn well what you were doing. He shook himself. Fine. If you wanted to race him so badly, he would give it to you. And no way in hell would he still consider going easy on you.

Lando promptly made his way to the other car and slid into the seat with practised ease. He signalled Will, who handed him the steering wheel. He clicked it into place before glancing to his right, smiling dangerously. “Alright, you’re on, darling. Challenge accepted.”

At that, Jarv entered a bunch of commands on his tablet, which was connected to the simulator’s system, to set the race parameters. Two cars appeared on the screens, each from their own driver’s point of view, already in position to start racing at Shanghai’s International Circuit.

“As you can see, Lando will start on the right and Y/N will start on the left,” Jarv informed.

“Whoa, wait a minute,” Lando sputtered. “Why are you starting from pole and not me?”

“Because I clocked the fastest lap time.”

“You clocked the only lap time.”

You shrugged, smiling. “Take it up with race control, baby.”

“Don’t worry,” Will reassured, looking at his own tablet as he scrolled through the accumulated data from your runs. “Break late, and you can easily overtake her in the first corner.”

Lando nodded, adjusting his grip on the steering wheel as the digital green flag was waved.

Jarv leaned in to whisper in your ear: “No, he won’t. Just remember what I taught you.”

“Aye, aye,” you said, focusing on the lights.

The cameras were all set and rolling, and Marion looked around, relishing the unexpected turn of events. This would be an enormous hit online, for sure. Her eyes landed on Oscar who stood to the back, watching the couple with an amused glint in his eye. If only she could involve him as well somehow… that would make it even better.

“Oscar, why don’t you take on the role of commentator?” Marion suggested, her tone indicating that he didn’t have much of a choice.

Oscar startled. “Oh. Uhm. Yeah, sure.”

He moved to stand in between the two simulators, clearing his throat. “Right. Uhm. Welcome to the Shanghai International Circuit for the 2024 Chinese Grand Prix… It’s Sunday, April 21st—well, not really but let’s go with it—uhm, and we’ll soon start racing–”

“You’re a lousy commentator, Piastri,” Lando interrupted.

Oscar rolled his eyes. “How about you worry about yourself, Norris.”

Lando snickered, but he quickly sobered when the first light gleamed red. Then the second, the third, the fourth, the fifth, and…

“It’s lights out and away we go!”

You got away quick, but Lando was faster, years of experience siding with him.

“Lando dives into the first corner, ahead of Y/N. Can she cross back? No, no she cannot. Ah, bummer…” Oscar narrated. “She’s right behind him, though, going into turn 3. Lando nearly missing the apex there, but he recovers well. OH! Oh, never mind. Lando goes wide in turn 6! Yeah, he’s familiar with that one.”

“Shut up,” Lando snapped.

“I didn’t think so, mate,” Oscar grinned, settling into his new character nicely.

“Y/N is back on his heels as they go down sector two. DRS is not yet enabled, but she is only six tenths behind! Will Y/N be able to overtake Norris without DRS on the straight? She’s getting closer… they’re racing each other into turn 14, and… OH Y/N, massive lock-up! She manages to keep the car on track. Excellent save! But that’s gonna cost her some valuable time.”

You crossed start-finish, eyeing the time as you entered lap two.

Oscar’s voice boomed loud. “DRS enabled! But Y/N is too far–”

“Just 1.2 seconds behind, you can still do this,” Jarv encouraged. “Line-up on the left and take the first corner on the inside. Yeah, like that. Good.”

On the other side of the room, Will was giving Lando similar instructions. It had, after all, been a while since Lando had last raced this track. During his rookie year, no less. Therefore it was currently taking him quite a bit of effort to find the correct race line, especially with the many difficult corners and hairpins around the track.

“Steady on,” Will said. “Y/N is out of DRS. Let’s keep it that way.”

The couple sped down the track on their simulators, and even though most of your focus was spent on driving and listening to Jarv’s notes, you also marvelled at the accuracy and realism of the sim. From the sensations of the literal car you were seated in, down to the gravel Lando’s little off-track adventure had caused to spread in and around turn 6. Whatever the outcome of the race, this experience would certainly beat waiting around and lounging in that swivel chair.

“Great exit from Norris who is absolutely flying down the straight in sector three, followed by Y/N at 1.4 seconds. Still doing a phenomenal job so far!” Oscar continued, his eyes glued to the screen. “Approaching turn 14, can Y/N manage the hairpin this time? What?! Oh, no! It’s Lando that locks up this time… Oiiioii, mighty turn 14 proves to be too much for both of our star drivers.”

Jarv kept a close eye on the interval time, and thanks to Lando’s mistake, the gap had already shrunk to 1.1 seconds. “Okay, now use the extra power from the ERS to get closer,” he instructed.

You did as you were told, pressing the correct button on the steering wheel, which gave you an extra boost to get even closer to Lando.

“Y/N gaining on Norris! And she’s now back within DRS at 0.9 seconds. Whoa, what a truly remarkable performance by someone who has never driven a race car or a sim like this before! I’d vote for her as driver of the day…”

“No one asked your opinion,” Lando cut off, sounding a little strained.

“Whatever,” Oscar shrugged, unbothered. “Lando Grumpy-Ass Norris struggles to maintain the gap between him and his girlfriend, hitting the curb a little enthusiastically right there. Oh, Y/N faces the same issues! It’s all about keeping the focus now, ladies and gents. Will Y/N be able to close the gap? Will she be able to attack Norris?”

Marion stood behind the cameras, watching gleefully how you and Lando raced each other around the virtual Shanghai circuit. Oh, you were even better than she could have ever anticipated. Better than anyone in the room could have ever anticipated, really. The whole crew was watching the race with baited breath.

You were almost equally matched. With you, a real diamond in the rough, having received some training beforehand, and Lando, an experienced driver, essentially going in blind—it was a golden match.

Were you going to be able to do the unthinkable?

“We’re going into the penultimate lap, and even with Lando strategically using his batteries, Y/N has managed to close the gap to 0.7 with DRS. And there she is also clocking the fastest lap. Wow!”

“You can win a little bit of extra time in sector two,” Will analysed. “Turns 9 and 12 are crucial. You need a good exit.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Lando said. “I know what I’m doing.”

“Does he?” Oscar cut in. “We’ve got track limits for Norris in turn 9! He’s getting desperate now, with Y/N coming for him at 0.6 seconds. Is she going to—yes! She’s attempting to overtake Norris ahead of turn 11 but… fails… Oh, that was a bold move by Y/N! She lost a bit of time with that one, but she’s still within DRS range and knows she will be able to get close again for another attack.”

Your knuckles were turning white from how tight you were gripping the steering wheel. You couldn’t make a mistake, not now. You were so close… On the other sim, Lando was in a similar state. Although he was clenching his jaw in concentration instead. It was becoming more and more difficult to keep you behind him.

“Final lap,” Oscar announced. “And Norris crosses the white lines again! Turn 3 this time. Yep, there it is. Second track limits for Norris. He is feeling the heat, and not the good kind.”

Jarv’s mouth twitched. “It’s been five years since Lando raced here, let’s use it to our advantage,” he spoke to you in a hushed tone.

You nodded, your eyes never wavering from the screen in front of you.

Jarv checked the data, both yours and Lando’s, then leaned in. “Okay, here’s what you’ll do: instead of following the race line at–”

Will was closely observing you and Jarv from the other side of the room, but he couldn’t make out what Jarv was saying over the sounds of the simulators’ engines and Oscar still commentating to his heart’s content. He looked down at his driver, who was fully focused on the task before him.

“And then use the charged batteries after exiting turn 13. I know Lando’s defending tactics, this should work. He won’t see it coming,” Jarv finished.

You simply nodded again, trusting your engineer’s judgement. You would give it your all to try and execute his strategy as best you could.

“As we’re nearing the chequered flag, all bets are off. Lando is fighting for his position with everything he has, but Y/N is not ready to call it quits just yet!”

Your heart rate was off the charts, but you managed to stay calm, hitting the apexes, the metres between you and Lando’s car in front dwindling with each passing second.

“0.5 seconds, 0.4 seconds…”

“Flat out, Y/N. Let’s go,” Jarv said, his own heart rate ticking up.

“She’s chasing him, with DRS… There she comes. There she comes… round the inside! Y/N overtakes Norris!” Oscar roared. “Diving into the infamous turn 14… and… and she makes it! Hell yeah! What a mega move from Y/N! Now into the final corner. Can she stay ahead of Norris? Can she…? Yes!! Yes, she can!”

You passed the chequered flag, your mouth falling open in shock.

“Y/N wins the Chinese Grand Prix!”

“OH MY GOD!!”

Jarv's laugh pierced the room. “Get in! I told you!”

He managed to stop himself just in time before he started jumping up and down like an overly excited little boy. You shared his enthusiasm though, unable to control the slight tremor in your hands at seeing your name next to the word WINNER displayed boldly on the screen in front of you.

Holy fuck, you did it. You actually did it.

Lando sank low in his seat. “How the hell…”

Will patted him on the shoulder, consoling. “You did your best mate.”

“Clearly it wasn’t enough,” he grumbled.

Will glanced at their celebrating opponents, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Get your mind out of the gutter, mate, and look on the bright side.”

“Which is?”

“Your girlfriend just showed you the perfect overtake manoeuvre for Sunday.”

“Ha-ha, very funny…”

Although, you really did.

Lando turned to see Jarv help you out of the simulator, still grinning from ear to ear. You were reeling, the adrenaline of the fight and win coursing through your veins. Suddenly you understood what it must feel like to come out of a real F1 car, and to stand on the podium, basking in that feeling of winning a race.

As soon as you were out, Jarv high-fived you. “Solid race. That’s some potential, that is.”

Oscar came up next. “Awesome job, Y/N. Seriously. Great overtake at the end there. Perhaps you’ll be my future teammate,” he winked.

You giggled. “Thanks, guys!”

Even Will smiled at you, giving you a thumbs up as you walked over to Lando who was still seated in the other sim, sulking.

“Oh, come on,” you pouted, reaching out your hand, a peace offering. “That was fun, wasn’t it?”

“Sure thing, it was,” he muttered, but he accepted your hand anyway before jumping out of the car.

When he stood in front of you, he took a moment to look you up and down, a smile slowly creeping onto his face. His ego may have taken quite the blow today, but there was no denying he was also extremely proud of you. Jarv had been right after all, and Lando was happy he hadn’t taken the engineer up on his bet.

He shook his head as if he still couldn’t believe it. “Well, aren’t you full of surprises?”

You shrugged, smiling. “Need to keep things fresh and exciting, don’t I? Otherwise you’ll tire of me in no time.”

“Never,” Lando scoffed, wrapping his arm around your waist and giving your lips a soft peck. “However, as much as I’m proud of you… this footage will never see the light of day.”

You laughed, your eyes locking with Marion.

She sent you a wink. “We’ll see about that.”

***

a/n: thank you for reading <3 feedback is adored.

by the way, should i make a taglist for future f1 fics? is that something you’d be interested in? or perhaps for specific drivers? let me know!

also posted on ao3

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stillmonsterz · 2 days

Text

rosebud

pairing: jay x reader, sunghoon x reader genre: smut with plot summary: ever since your mother passed away, your stepfather has been there for you. but when your old crush finally makes a move on you, you find that you want to pursue something different. one night won't change a thing, right? contains: unprotected sex, dubcon, mentions of death, infidelity (?), "humor", piv, blowjobs word count: 8.6k (unproofread) taglist: @belowbun @moon7jay @ui11iane @bambangan A/N: I didn't intend to write this, but here we are. Hope you enjoy it!

You tasted the dish you had made once more before setting the spoon down and closing the lid on the pot. Perfect. Jay would love it. You both worked full-time jobs, but he did so much around the house that you liked to have dinner waiting for him. You were a better cook than him, anyways.

You washed your hands and decided to head to the couch while you waited for him to come home. It was your ritual: when your mom was alive, you, Jay, and her would all sit down and talk about your day before going your separate ways. Your mom had liked to eat dinner alone, so your time to congregate was just when everyone got home.

Your mother had passed away a few years ago, shortly after her and Jay, your stepfather, had gotten married. It was a car crash, a stupid drunk driver. Just the thought of that night made you curl into yourself. Jay had taken care of you after that. Even though you had been an adult for a while, able to support yourself with your job, he had never even mentioned you moving out. He had moved you and your mother to his lovely house in the suburbs, got you whatever you wanted for your room. To repay his kindness, you liked to do little things for him: cook, do the laundry, mop the floors. It was the least you could do.

The breakers in the doorknob clicked, and Jay walked into the foyer. You tried to rid your mind of the hard times, of the grief. When he saw you, his face brightened. “I smell something good,” he said, taking his shoes off and loosening his tie. He had a high-status, forward-facing job, so Jay wore suits everyday to work. You ironed them for him on the weekend, taking care to put them in protective plastic bags.

“I made cream pasta,” you said, relaxing onto the couch. “Your favourite.”

“Oh, thank you, sweetheart,” Jay said. “I need it. Was so busy I didn’t get lunch today.” He walked into the living room and gave you a quick peck on the cheek. “Just gonna go wash up, then we can chat, okay?”

“Okay,” you said happily, washing him dip into the downstairs guest bathroom.

When he came back out, he had loosened his tie so that it hung slackly around his neck. Jay walked over to the couch, tilted your head up, and gave you a long, gentle kiss. He broke the kiss to lower himself onto the couch, settling next to you.

Jay held your hand in his, stroking his thumb over your knuckles. “How was your day?”

You shrugged. “Nothing to report. This guy kept asking for the book ‘Against bad and Good’ by Fyodor Dostoevksy, and eventually I figured out that he meant beyond Good and Evil by Nietzsche.”

Jay laughed. “Was he drunk?”

“Just stupid, I think. How was your day?”

Jay squeezed your hand. “Good, good. I got a lot of work done in preparation for the trip. Had to coordinate with marketing for the proposal, which is always difficult, because marketing is staffed by-,”

“Neanderthals?”

He kissed your cheek. “I’ve taught you well.” You laughed, which earned you an affectionate smile from him.

“I remember when I heard you laugh for the first time after your mom passed,” Jay said, his other hand coming to rest on your shoulder. “It made me so relieved.”

“It did?”

“Mhm,” he said. “That’s how I knew you would be okay.”

You smiled at him, then, and he leaned in to give you another gentle kiss on the lips. He pulled away slowly, almost teasingly. You held his cheeks with both hands and brought him back towards you, tilting your head to deepen the kiss. Jay softly groaned into your mouth and wrapped his arms around your lower back, drawing you into him.

One of his hands strayed towards your chest, and he groped one of your clothed breasts.So it was one of those days. Jay tugged on your lip as he pulled away from the kiss, one hand still lingering on your chest.

“We might have to postpone dinner,” he said, running the side of his finger along your cheek.

“Why? You’re not hungry?”

“I am,” Jay said, “but for something else.” With that, he leaned in and kissed a sensitive spot under your ear, eliciting a gasp from you.

“Bedroom?” you asked.

Jay nodded and lifted you up, holding you bridal-style. As he carried you upstairs, you began unbuttoning his white collared shirt, kissing at the new expanse of skin awarded to you. “I need all the time I can get with you before my trip.”

“Where is it again? Singapore?” you asked before pressing wet kisses on his upper chest.

“Yeah,” Jay said. “Fuck, I’ll really miss you.”

“It’s only five days.”

“And I’ll miss you every single hour,” he said. He pushed the door to his bedroom open and brought you inside. All of your mom’s stuff had been moved to storage, leaving it an entirely Jay space: white walls, creamy bed-sheets, vintage record-player sitting on a side-table, lounge chair. It was still late afternoon, so golden sunlight shone past the cracks in the blinds and cast a shimmering glow throughout the space.

“I’ll miss you, too,” you said softly. Jay kissed your cheek before resting you on the king-sized bed. You pulled your clothes off quickly, not wanting to waste a second. Jay had the same idea, tossing his suit jacket and pants onto the lounge chair.

“Iron those for me later, will you?” He strided over to his nightstand to get a condom. While he did so, you began prepping yourself, sliding two fingers in and out of your warm pussy while you rubbed your clit.

“I will, Jay,” you said. When you saw him approach you, you stopped playing with yourself and leaned down on your elbows. Your mouth watered at the sight of his erect cock.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” Jay crawled on top of you and kissed you deeply. His hands ran along the sides of your bare skin, feeling their contours. You had done this with him so many times, but he always managed to make it feel as though he were exploring uncharted territories every time he kissed you. “Do you mind if we do missionary?”

“I’d like that,” you breathed out. You traced your hands along his arms, feeling the taut, tense muscle.

“Good,” Jay said. “I want to see your face.” He gave his cock a few tugs before he slid inside of you with a groan. The stretch was delicious, as usual, and your toes curled as he pushed himself in. Jay gave you both some time to adjust, his eyes closed tightly shut. He owned them and began to move, your creamy pussy welcoming his hard length.

Your hands grasped the back of his neck, stroking the soft hair. “I’ll really miss you,” you said, gasping in between words. Jay’s pace was slow and purposeful, his cock teasing the gummy wall of your G-spot. The bed creaked every time he thrusted into you.

“I’ll miss you more,” he said, driving his cock deeper and deeper into your pussy. “You have no clue just how badly I want you there with me.” Jay’s face was contorted in pleasure, and he dipped down low to suck on your neck.

“No marks,” you whined, trying to push his face away. “I’m seeing Sungyeon in a few days…”

“Just tell her it was your boyfriend,” Jay mumbled against your neck, nibbling the tender skin. He was always like this just before he went away, clingy and needy. “Or a hookup. I don’t care.”

“Oh,” you sighed. How could you argue with him when his cock felt so good? He canted his hips into yours at an even pace. He never rushed a thing. Even the way he gave you hickeys was careful and slow.

Jay pulled out of you, and you protested at the sudden emptiness. “Want to taste you before I go,” he said, pressing kisses from your neck to your breasts to your belly-button. Then he lavished attention on your inner thighs, sucking red marks onto them. His lips smacked against your soft skin, and he caressed your legs gently with his large hands. Sometimes Jay would put on his old rnb playlist when you two made love, but you liked this, too, when you could hear everything.

After he had kissed every square inch of your thighs, Jay gently parted your vulva lips. He pecked your clit, too, which made you giggle. The laughs choked in your throat as he began to lave his tongue over your sensitive pearl, ever so softly. He alternated between flicking his tongue and making a swirling motion. Jay’s hands clutched your waist, holding you in place. Your hands threaded into his dark, well-kept hair, and you let out a moan.

Jay brought you to the brink before he pulled away, swallowing in air. “You taste so sweet,” he said. “So sweet.”

“All yours,” you said.

Jay lifted his head back up so that he was face to face with you. “Come taste how sweet you are, baby.” You kissed him, and he stuck his tongue into your mouth so you could better taste your arousal. Your tongues played hide and seek with each other- when Jay would retract his, you would suck it back into your mouth, and vice versa.

You felt his cock bump the tip of your entrance, and he plunged himself into you once more. You wrapped your legs around him, driving him deeper inside of you. You loved it when his chest pressed against your, when every single part of you felt connected. Jay rocked his hips against yours slowly, lovingly, and you basked in the glow.

After a while, Jay rolled off of you. He planted a kiss on your forehead and held you close, wrapping both arms around you. “Did you want me to finish you off?” Jay shook his head and kissed your neck as he nuzzled into you from behind.

“Wasn’t the point,” he murmured. “Did you want to finish?”

“Wasn’t the point for me either,” you said softly.

You fell asleep like that, tightly ensconced in Jay’s embrace.

–

You hadn’t exactly meant to start fucking your stepdad. It had started even before your mother had passed. Jay would come inside your room to talk, and you welcomed his company. He was funny, witty, and a good listener. Before you went to work in the mornings, if your mother wasn’t around, he would give you kisses on the cheek as a goodbye. Then the kisses turned into pecks on the lips, which turned into long, slow kisses that left your head spinning.

The first time he fucked you was when your showerhead had started to act strange. You had wrapped a towel around yourself and called his name. As he pushed past you to examine the problem, your towel had come loose, exposing everything to him. Jay had taken you on the counter mere minutes later, leaving the shower running and shoving a pair of panties in your mouth to muffle the sound.

For some reason, you had thought that your mother’s death would have killed any chemistry between the two of you. On the contrary; Jay had taken you into the funeral home’s bathroom and fucked you in there. You figured it was a coping mechanism, or something.

In hindsight, nothing about your dynamic had really changed after your mother’s passing. You still talked regularly, you still had frequent sex (frequent enough that Jay begged you to go on birth control), and you still loved to cook for him.

–

You woke up a few hours later. Jay was already staring at you, a soft smile on his face. “Good morning, sleeping beauty,” he said jokingly.

“What time is it really?”

Jay glanced at the clock on his nightstand. “6:38.”

“Ah, I’ll have to rewarm the pasta…”

“It’s no rush,” Jay said, stroking your shoulder. “Not that hungry anymore.”

You smiled and kissed his nose playfully. “You’re full?”

“For now,” Jay said. “I might need more later.”

“Don’t you dare leave any more marks,” you said. “Sungyeon won’t leave me alone if you do.”

“Are you sure you’re worried about Sungyeon, or her scrawny brother?”

You snorted. “Sunghoon? I’m not worried about him.”

“You told me you had a little crush on him,” Jay replied.

“It’s just a crush. It’s nothing. He probably wouldn’t even know what to do with a woman.” It was a partial lie. You had seen women who definitely weren’t Sungyeon’s friends slip into the Park household. Many of them were repeat visitors, so you figured that Sunghoon probably was good. But what Jay didn’t know wouldn’t kill him.

“Probably not,” Jay said with a sniff. “Kids like that only want one thing, and they’re not good at it.”

“Not like you,” you said.

Jay grinned and kissed your lips. “Exactly. I take care of you, don’t I?”

“So well, Jay.” You started to draw little patterns on his chest. “So, so well.”

Jay rolled you on top of him, hands traveling down to our lower back. “You need me to take care of you again?”

“Please.”

You didn’t get to eat dinner until 10 o’clock.

–

You had Saturday off, but Jay still had work to finish up at the office before he left for his business trip on Monday. You agreed to go grocery shopping together after work so you could have Sunday all to yourselves. Sungyeon was also free, so you decided to go around to her place. She lived a few houses away from your place; you had met her while you were on a jog. Neither of you were the most sociable people, so it was great to have a friend who was so calm and who lived so close.

It helped that she had a cute older brother. He was only a few years older, and he had recently moved back home due to the poor economy. Their parents made good money, but he had wanted to be independent from his parents when he turned 18. You knew all this because Sungyeon told you, not because Sunghoon had ever spoken with you about anything even remotely personal. He treated you like a houseguest. You didn’t mind because you had Jay, but in the brief moments when you considered getting into a more traditional relationship, Sunghoon was always the first person to come to mind.

You walked over to Sungyeon’s house, a two-storied building not at all dissimilar to your own. You clambered up the steps and rang the doorbell.

“Door’s open,” she called, so you let yourself in and locked the door behind you. “I’m in the kitchen!”

You had come over to spend the morning and afternoon watching Marvel movies, and Sungyeon had promised to make snacks. Indeed, when you walked into the kitchen, you smelled something sweet yet burnt. Sungyeon was dropping a pan of partially burnt Rice Krispie squares onto the stovetop.

“How’d you fuck up Rice Krispies?” you asked, grabbing a knife from their drawer.

“Shut up,” Sungyeon whined. “I was trying to be domestic. For you. Because I care.”

“Should have cared about setting an oven timer,” you retorted, cutting a chunk out of the Rice Krispies.

Sungyeon frowned. “Don’t eat that. It’s still hot.”

“Won’t even bother me,” you said. You used the knife to place the gooey treat onto a paper towel and raised it to your lips. One bite and your mouth was on fire. “Ow!”

“Dumbass,” Sungyeon grumbled. You fanned your mouth frantically and she meandered while she got you a glass of water, relishing in your despair.

As you tearfully gulped down the water, Sunghoon walked into the kitchen. He was wearing a baggy gray T-shirt over black sweatpants, and he looked exhausted. He was a serial gamer, so chances were he stayed up playing League or Overwatch with his friends Heeseung or Jake. He looked at you, then Sungyeon. “What’s that smell?”

“I made Rice Krispie squares,” Sungyeon muttered. “But they’re bu-,”

Sunghoon was already cutting a piece out of the pan and shoving it into his mouth. He coughed. “Fuck, it’s hot.” He kept eating it despite the apparent pain, wandering back upstairs.

“Two freaks,” Sungyeon said, rubbing your back.

Once you caught your breath, you said, “Maybe we should also get some cereal.”

Sungyeon breathed out a defeated sigh. “Probably the best idea.” You got the bowls and spoons, and she got the cereal and milk. Once you had prepared your bowls, you set out to the living room. Sungyeon accidentally knocked into you, spilling milk over your front.

“What’s up with you today?” you said with a smile, putting your cereal down.

“Mercury retrograde,” she said. “You can go put your hoodie in the wash. I’ll bring it to you on Monday. Get something out of my closet if you want.”

“Gracias,” you said, heading up the stairs. Their laundry room was located conveniently on the second floor, so all you had to do was take a hoodie from Sungyeon’s room and change in the laundry room. When you took off your tank top, you examined it carefully to make sure that you didn’t get any milk on that as well. The last thing you needed was to smell warm milk as you watched your movie. As you looked down at your chest, you noticed that Sunghoon had left his hamper of dirty clothes here. You knew it was his because you had seen him wear every shirt in the pile at least fifty times since you had known him.

“Wow,” you heard a voice say. You turned and saw Sunghoon, standing behind you with his arms crossed. “You hide them well.” His eyes, you realized, were trained directly on your chest, and a faint smile graced his lips.

“I don’t hide them at all,” you said. “You just haven’t been looking.” No way were you going to pass up an opportunity to flirt with Sunghoon. Given your status as his sister’s friend and his casual sex habit, you doubted anything would come of it anyways. You were certain that Jay probably had wandering eyes, too.

“Maybe you’re right,” Sunghoon said. He stepped a little closer and tapped your neck. “Who gave you this?”

You tilted your head. “Why do you care?”

Sunghoon rested his hand on your shoulder, his thumb pulling at the strap of your tank top. “I need to know who my competition is.”

“Didn’t realize there was a competition.”

Sunghoon lifted his hand away, shoving it into his sweatpants pocket. “Then you haven’t been looking.”

You shrugged your hoodie on over your tank top. “I was looking for years, actually. You missed your opportunity.”

Sunghoon scrunched his nose, and you didn’t think he knew how cute he looked. “You didn’t act like you were interested.”

Leaning against the washing machine, you looked him up and down. “Then you don’t know shit about women.”

He leaned in, his smirk growing. “I know a lot about women. You gonna let me show you, or are you gonna dub me?”

You paused, weighing your options. Finally, you walked past him, turning around at the last minute to say, “I’m going to go watch Marvel movies with your sister.”

“Can I join you?”

“Nice try.”

Sunghoon shrugged and started walking to his room. “You miss 100% of the shots you don’t try.”

You shook your head and went down to remake your bowl of cereal. So now you knew that Sunghoon really was interested in you, after years of ignoring you. You wouldn’t let it phase you, though. You had Jay. Sungyeon didn’t even know that you weren’t a virgin, let alone that you were fucking your ex-stepdad. You didn’t know if you could ever tell anyone about your arrangement.

–

When Jay picked you up from Sungyeon’s place, you didn’t dare mention what happened with Sunghoon to you. Normally, you mentioned anything that happened with a man, and Jay would lament about the many women at the office who wanted him. But you couldn’t talk about Sunghoon, not when he had made your heart race like that.

“I was thinking,” Jay began, driving with one hand, the other resting on your thigh, “we could go to this new store. They have these novelty fruits, like blue carrots. Does that sound good to you?”

“Sounds great, Jay,” you said, a little absent-mindedly.

Jay caught the hint of distance in your tone. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

You sighed, hating how it felt to lie to Jay. “It’s silly but…I really will miss you when you go away. This time it’s different, you know?”

Jay squeezed your thigh. “I know what you mean. I’ll be back before you know it, hm? I’ll bring you back some souvenirs, too.”

You leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek, which made him briefly smile at you before returning his attention to the road. “Okay, Jay.”

“Hey,” Jay said. “I have an idea. Let’s go to a restaurant. Right now. Let me take you someplace.”

Looking down at your outfit - shorts and Sungyeon’s hoodie - you frowned. “I can’t go out like this.”

“Please. You look beautiful no matter what you wear,” he said, squeezing your thigh again. “We don’t have to go anywhere fancy, just a place with good food. Someplace we haven’t tried.”

That was how you ended up at a sweet, 50’s inspired diner. You and Jay sat on opposite sides of the booth and pored over the menu together. When the waiter came over, he jabbed his pen at you and Jay. “So, what can I get you and your…”

“Stepdaughter,” Jay said with a terse smile. When you two went out, it was almost inevitable that someone would ask about your relationship. You had developed an unofficial way of answering the question: when you wanted to return to a place, you would say that Jay was your stepdad. When you wanted to try a place out just once, he would call you his girlfriend. It always made your heart flutter when he addressed you as his girlfriend, even though it seemed far too juvenile a term for your relationship.

The waiter smiled and took your orders. As you ate, you couldn’t help the thoughts of Sunghoon from returning. Sunghoon slouching around in his rumpled, baggy clothes, so different from the suits and starched button-ups Jay liked to wear. So boyish and immature in contrast to Jay’s maturity and poise. So bold.

Your food came, and you picked at it. You hated that you were even considering it, what life could be like if you were dating someone your own age, someone who wasn’t so hopelessly entangled in your past. Someone your mom hadn’t fucked.

Jay called your name softly. “Come sit next to me,” he said, scooting over and dragging his food over to the side. You pushed your plate over and trudged to his side of the table. Jay wrapped his arm around you and wiped a crumb from your cheek.

“Are you sure it’s just the trip?” he asked quietly.

You hesitated, then decided to tell a half-truth. “I wish we could be normal sometimes,” you admitted.

Jay took in a sharp intake of breath, looking down at his lap. Then he gave you a small smile. “Me too,” he said quietly. “Sometimes I wish I was 15 years younger, or you were 15 years older. But what we have is something special, something really magical. I wouldn’t give that up for anything, would you?”

“No,” you said. “I wouldn’t.” Not even Sunghoon.

Jay ran his thumb on your lips. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I really am. Being with an old man like me can’t be easy…”

“You’re not old at all,” you protested. “Not to me, not at all.”

Jay laughed quietly and leaned in to give you a gentle kiss. His mouth tasted like the milkshake he had been drinking, and you ran your tongue along his lips to lap up all of the flavour. His fingers gently caressed your neck in a soothing motion as you continued to kiss. It felt so right, so sweet.

Someone cleared their throat. “Excuse me,” the waiter said timidly. “Just wanted to know if you guys were doing all right over here?” HIs eyes were confused, darting between you and Jay rapidly.

Jay pulled away from you and nodded. “Yeah, great, thanks.” The waiter sped away, nearly tripping over his shoes. Jay frowned. “What’s up with him?”

“You told him you were my stepdad this time,” you said.

Jay smacked his forehead. “Damn, that’s right. Shame. The food here is really good.”

In spite of yourself, you laughed.

–

On Monday morning, you watched as Jay drove away. You had given him the best send-off you could think of: marathon sex from Saturday night to Sunday night, and a final, romantic round on the kitchen counter before he left. You sighed and headed indoors to get changed for work.

Just as you were putting your pants on, you heard a knock on the door. You zipped up your pants and buttoned up your shirt as you walked to the door. You glanced at the monitor, and you saw Sunghoon shuffling outside the door, holding something.

You opened the door and Sunghoon waved. “I have your hoodie,” Sunghoon said. “Sungyeon’s busy tonight, but she wanted to get it to you as soon as possible.”

“Did she,” you said, accepting the hoodie, “or did you want an excuse to come here?”

Sunghoon laughed. “You caught me. Can you blame me?”

“Very easily,” you said. “I have to go to work in ten minutes, so you’d better make this quick.”

“That’s enough time,” Sunghoon said. “Just wanted to talk. Can I come in?”

You shrugged and gestured for him to come inside. Sunghoon sniffed the air as he moved further inside your house. He had been over a few times just to drop Sungyeon off or steal a snack before heading back to his place. Sungyeon liked coming over because she thought your stepdad was hot. It was so hard to pretend like you didn’t agree with her. “Did you…”

“Did…I what?”

Sunghoon lingered by your kitchen’s counter. “It smells like sex in here. Most people aren’t linking at 8 in the morning. So…you have a man?”

“Something like that,” you mumbled, embarrassed at having been caught. You had never really noticed the smell, but now that you were aware of it your face burnt. “He…slept over.”

“Nothing serious?” Sunghoon unzipped his hoodie slightly, feigning being overheated.

“We’re not…exclusive,” you said slowly. “But we’ve never talked about finding other people, if that makes any sense? It’s weird. I don’t know.”

“A situationship,” Sunghoon said, snapping his fingers.

“I guess.”

“Anyone I know?”

You winced. “Don’t know.”

“How cryptic. Anyways, I’m not looking for anything serious,” Sunghoon said. “Don’t get me wrong. Just...well, I’ll be blunt. You’re hot.”

You had been by the kitchen table, packing your purse up as you talked, but now your hand froze. Sunghoon continued talking. “I came to you last night,” he said, voice growing lower. “You wanna know what I thought about?”

You glanced at your phone’s screen to check the time. “What, Sunghoon?”

“I thought about how good your tits would look covered in my cum,” he said, “or how’d they look soapy from the shower. I imagined fucking you in the shower, pressing your tits against the glass while I fuck you from behind.”

Your eyes widened. The words were going straight to your pussy, and you hated your body for betraying you. “Sunghoon…”

“It’s so hard acting like I don’t want you,” Sunghoon continued. “Sungyeon doesn’t want me fucking one of her friends, so I’ve had to just pretend like you aren’t one of the sexiest women I’ve seen. I’m so sick of it. I know you want me too.”

“Sunghoon, I have to go.”

Sunghoon sighed and started to walk off. “Fine,” he mumbled.

“But,” you said carefully. He turned around, a hopeful look on his face. You counted the days in your head. You were busy at work today, Tuesday, and Wednesday, but… “Come over on Thursday at eleven.” Jay would be coming home on Friday, so there was no way he would catch you two.

Sunghoon grinned, revealing his darling little fangs. “Seriously?”

“‘Seriously’,” you mocked. “‘Oh, boy, I’m getting pussy!’”

“I’m not even listening to you,” Sunghoon said. “I’m already thinking about all the things I’m going to do to you. If you don’t mind being late for work, I could show you.”

“Tempting offer, but I really do have to go,” you said.

“So hardworking,” Sunghoon said sarcastically. “All right, I’ll see you on Thursday.”

That night, you were pent up, so you decided to play with yourself. When Jay wasn’t around, normally you would focus your thoughts on him, on some fantasy, something you wanted to try with him. But your thoughts kept shifting towards Sunghoon, his slight build, his charming smile, his frustrating indifference, how his hands would feel all over your body. You thought about what he said, about him pressing you against the shower, cold glass pressing against your tits.

When you came, you whimpered his name.

–

You ended up heading to Sungyeon’s on Wednesday after all. Your extra shift had gotten picked up at the last minute, so you decided to spend the evening with her. Generally, when Jay went on trips, you would stay by her. You hated to be alone in your big, empty house.

Sunghoon was nowhere to be seen, thankfully. The things you had said to him yesterday didn’t feel real or concrete. Just a fantasy the two of you had came up with, talking out loud. You snuggled closer to Sungyeon as you two sat on the couch, watching a Spiderman movie. Sungyeon had pulled a large blanket over the two of you.

“What are you guys watching?” Sunghoon asked. You looked up and squinted at him. He was wearing plain clothes as usual, his hair tousled.

“Look at the screen, dumbass,” Sungyeon snapped.

“That’s just Jake Gyllenhaal,” he sniffed. Sunghoon sat down beside you casually. You glanced at Sungyeon, but she was staring at the screen, eating her second, newly improved batch of Rice Krispie treats. You tried to focus on the screen, but Sunghoon’s body was radiating so much heat.

“You’re hogging the blanket,” Sunghoon whispered to you. “I’m freezing.”

“Don’t try anything,” you said in a low, conspiratorial voice. “I already promised you that we’d hang on Thursday.”

“I’m innocent,” Sunghoon said. “Now blanket.”

You reluctantly covered him with the blanket, and after that he was still. Until, of course, he rested his hand on your thigh. Just that touch alone felt delicious. Too delicious. You wondered if Jay was doing something similar on his trip, letting other women touch him. The thought made your stomach churn.

As if by magic, your phone started to vibrate.

“Who’s that?” Sungyeon asked.

“My stepdad,” you said. Jay liked to call you to check up on you. You answered the call there, ignoring the burning sensation of Sunghoon’s hand slowly rubbing your thigh, moving higher and higher. “Hello?”

“Hi, sweetheart,” he said, his voice sleepy and husky. Sexy. “How are you?”

“Good,” you said. “How are you?”

“I could be better. I’m missing you,” Jay said. “What are you wearing right now?”

Your face burned, and you prayed that Sunghoon or Sungyeon didn’t hear it. “I’m at Sungyeon’s,” you said neutrally. “We’re watching Spiderman.”

“I don’t care,” he said. “Go to the bathroom or someplace private.”

You swallowed and stood up. “I have to take this,” you said to Sungyeon. “It’s important.”

Sungyeon nodded and popped another bite of Rice Krispies into her mouth. You didn’t get a look at Sunghoon before you hurried away to the guest bathroom upstairs. Locking the door, you learned against the door. “Oh, my God. You can’t just do that. They almost heard.”

“I’m sorry,” he said in that same low tone. It made your stomach roil in pleasure. “Just had to hear your voice. Now tell me what you’re wearing.”

“Just a hoodie and shorts,” you said.

“And underneath your hoodie?”

“My tank top and…my bra.”

“Which bra? One I got you?”

“Yeah, the pink set you got me for my last birthday,” you said, reminiscing on that particular memory. He had practically fainted the first time he had seen you in it. “I’m wearing the matching panties too.”

Jay’s breath hitched, and you heard a squelching sound. “Fuck. Would you mind sending me a picture? Please?”

He had never asked you for nudes before, so he really must have been hard up. “Of course,” you said, resting the phone down momentarily as you flicked the light on. “I’m taking my hoodie off right now,” you whispered into the phone. “Now, I’m taking my shorts off…my tank top…you really wanna see?”

“Yes, please,” Jay said pleadingly.

Once you had fully stripped down, you flashed a quick picture of yourself on your knees, phone held high. He always liked you when you were in your most natural state, so you figured he would want a casual picture. You sent it to him, anticipating his reaction as you put the phone to your ear again.

“Jesus fuck,” was his quiet response. “So perfect. No one else gets to see you like that, right?”

“Of course not,” you said quickly. “Just you, always just you.”

“Wish I could tear that off of you right now,” Jay said. “I’d rip that thong off with my teeth, eat your needy little pussy for an hour straight.”

“I wish you would,” you said, longing creeping into your voice. “I wish you were here. I haven’t touched myself once since you left.”

“You haven’t?”

Of course you had. “No,” you whispered. “My fingers aren’t as good as yours are…or your dick.”

“Good fucking girl,” Jay said, his voice beginning to crack. “Good. I’ll make you cum over and over again when I get back. I’ll make you cum on my tongue, on my fingers, on my cock, until you can’t think. You’d like that, right?”

“I would,” you said. Your head was starting to grow cloudy, and you dipped your fingers into your panties to deal with the growing need there. Your clit was hot and you were already dripping with arousal.

“Are you touching yourself right now?”

“I am.”

“So, so good,” Jay said. “Can’t wait to reward you when I get home, give you everything a good girl deserves. Gonna fuck you in every room in the house, until you’re begging for me to stop.”

“I’d never want you to stop,” you said, circling your fingers on your clit and fighting back your moans. You could be loud, and the Park siblings were both downstairs.

“Of course you wouldn’t,” he said, and it sounded like he was straining just as much as you were. “Your body will be exhausted but you love my cock so much that you’d just let me keep fucking you. I won’t be able to stop myself. Just a few days without your needy little pussy and I’m already experiencing withdrawal. I won’t even make it past the door, I’ll push you down into the hallway and fuck you on the floor.”

You bit down on your lip hard, speeding up your movements. You were going to cum in record time, but you didn’t care.

Jay kept going. “Going to mount you’re a bitch, fuck you from behind. It’s been so long since we did doggy, I can’t stop thinking about it. I love seeing your pretty face, but I love watching the way your ass jiggles when I grab your hips and just pound away.”

“Close already,” you said quietly.

“Me too.”

“Want you to fuck me like a bitch,” you said. “Want you to use me, Jay. Want you to treat me like your plaything.”

“Fuck,” Jay said. “Fuck, I’m going to. Just wait for me… Ah, fuck, cum now, sweetheart. Fucking cum!”

Your orgasm hit you so deeply that you had to clench your eyes shut and grit your teeth together. Your phone tumbled out of your grasp, and you could hear Jay grunting and panting your name. You hastily picked it up, checking for cracks.

“Did you drop your phone?”

“Yeah,” you said with a slight giggle. “God, that was good.”

Jay sighed. “Sorry to bother you,” he said contritely. The shift in tone made you giggle again.

“That’s all right,” you said. “I missed your voice.”

“I called you yesterday, silly.”

“Miss you all the time.”

Jay laughed as well, the sound filling you with warmth. “I missed you too.”

You didn’t say I love you to each other, never did, so instead you said, “Take care.”

“You too. Enjoy your movies.”

You hung up on him and stared down at yourself. Panties dressed with your own juices, clothes off, body coated in your own sweat. You were in shambles. You bustled about the bathroom, cleaning up quietly. Once you looked presentable, you opened the door.

Sunghoon nearly tumbled into the bathroom, but he righted himself quickly. “Stepdad my ass,” he barked. “‘I-I-I’m cumming! Uwah!’”

“Keep your voice down! And I don’t sound like that,” you snapped. “Why were you listening in on me?”

“You left in such a rush, I came up here to make sure that you were okay,” Sunghoon replied. “I guess you were really okay. Your legs are shaking and everything.”

You looked down at your legs, which were indeed quivering. “It’s none of your business,” you said.

“It is,” Sunghoon said, blocking your path. “You said it wasn’t serious, but here you are having phone sex with him.”

“It’s not serious.”

Sunghoon laughed sarcastically. “So unserious that you say that you miss him when he’s gone, right?”

“Oh, so you don’t tell your boys that you miss them?”

Sunghoon looked offended. “No.”

“Then you are an unfeeling man. Now move. I’m missing the movie.”

“I’ll spoil it for you. Spiderman fucking dies.”

“No, he doesn’t.” You sighed and pocketed your phone. “Look, we’re still on for Thursday, right?”

Sunghoon screwed his lips up to the side. “Yeah, we are.”

“So don’t worry about who else I’m fucking,” you said. “And I won’t worry about who you’re fucking. Okay?”

“Fine,” he said, moving aside, “but you’re a real shameless little slut, you know that?”

“Oh, don’t call me that,” you said, heading downstairs. “It’ll turn me on.”

“That’s why I called you that,” Sunghoon said, smacking your ass as you walked.

Thankfully, Sunghoon left you and Sungyeon alone, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were doing something horribly wrong.

–

Thursday evening rolled around, and you were at your wit’s end. You didn’t know what other guys liked, not really. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t had experience with other guys, but the bulk of your early adult life had been with Jay. Someone you had lived with, who had seen you at your rock bottom, who didn’t care if you wore pearls and diamonds or greasy sweatpants. You had no clue how to impress someone.

You went to the bathroom and followed a makeup guide on Youtube, pursing your lips. It was a pretty cute look. When Jay got back, you’d do it again when you went on a date and he could introduce you two as your girlfriend.

Dolled up in your best lingerie set - a silky robe over a lacy, barely-there bra with a matching pair of delicate panties and thigh highs - you lounged on your bed. You rarely ever used it for sleeping or even sex, because Jay’s room was bigger, so there was a certain novelty in lying around in it at night.

The doorbell rang. You glanced at the clock on your phone: only 10:45? Sunghoon was early. He must have wanted you worse than you thought. The thought made you smile.

You pranced down the stairs, flicked the foyer light on, and opened the door. Instead of Sunghoon’s lithe frame, Jay stood in front of you, holding a bouquet of gorgeous red roses. His eyes bugged out of his head as he took you in. “Sweetheart,” he said slowly, “you look phenomenal. Hah, did you know I was coming home early? I wanted to surprise you.”

You took the bouquet of roses from him, desperately trying to fight the growing anxiety within you. You had never gotten Sunghoon’s number, so there was no way to contact him. You could ask Sungyeon, but it was so late that she’d question why you wanted it. “I didn’t know,” you murmured. “I was trying out the look I was going to do tomorrow.”

“I took a red eye here,” Jay said. You placed the bouquet on a nearby coffee table. Jay’s eyes lingered on your chest on their slow journey up and down your body. “God, you’re a work of art.” Jay took his suit jacket off and tossed it to the side.

“You know, Jay,” you began slowly. “I’m actually feeling a bit, uh, tired.”

“Really?” Jay loosened his tie. “You don’t look tired to me.”

“Well, I am, and…”

His lips pressed onto yours and you felt your defenses crumbling. Damn him. “When I said I’d fuck you in the doorway,” Jay said, “I meant it.” With that, Jay used his body weight to force you onto the floor as nicely as he could. Even through his dress pants, you could feel his hard length, and despite your growing horror, it made you feel wet. Maybe, Sunghoon would get cold feet. Maybe he was lying about wanting to fuck you. You comforted yourself with this thought.

Soon, Jay was bucking his hips into your warm, desperate pussy. Your panties had been pushed to the side, your bra was askew, and your thigh highs had been ripped. Your arms held yourself upright as he took you from behind, just the way he said. Worst of all, Jay had left the door swinging open. You were facing outside, and the foyer light was still on. Anyone could see you as he fucked you.

“Missed you,” he groaned. “Missed this pussy. I can tell it missed me, too.” His hands were wrapped loosely around your neck, applying comfortable pressure.

You couldn’t even tell him that you missed him in good faith. You let out a pathetic little moan, your eyes trained on the darkness. To your terror, you saw a dark figure shifting, a phone light illuminating its way. It was coming towards your house.

You didn’t know if Jay saw him, because he didn’t stop. His dick reached inside of you so nicely, but the fear clogged your throat.

The figure stepped into the light, revealing Sunghoon. His mouth was agape, and he stared at you, then at Jay, then back at you, then at your tits. It was humiliating beyond words.

“What the fuck?” Sunghoon asked. “The guy who’s been cucking me is Mr. Park? Your fucking stepdad?”

Jay, mysteriously, didn’t stop fucking you. He merely slowed down, and his grip on your throat moved to your midsection. “And you’re the skinny punk who has a crush on her, right?”

“She has a crush on me,” Sunghoon retorted. “She invited me here to fuck.”

Jay finally stopped, pulling out of you. You groaned, unable to face him. “Is that true?”

You nodded. “Yeah,” you said weakly. “Sorry, Jay. I’m really sorry.”

“We’ll talk about that later,” Jay said. “Are you going to tell anyone?”

“Me?” Sunghoon pointed at himself in this overly ostentatious way that pissed you off. “Am I going to tell anyone that you’re fucking your dead wife’s daughter? Maybe. Why shouldn’t I?”

Jay swallowed audibly. “I’ll let you get what you wanted.”

“Jay!” At your outburst, Jay lightly pinched your side.

“You wanted it,” he said, his voice an irate growl. “You wanted to be a slut and fuck another man, so now you’re getting exactly what you wanted.”

Sunghoon still looked aghast, but from your angle you could see a bulge forming under his sweatpants. “You’ll really let me have her?”

“I will,” Jay said. “You just can’t cum inside her.”

Sunghoon’s Adam’s apple bobbed in anticipation. “Can I use her mouth?”

“Sure you can,” Jay said. “I don’t use it often, so maybe she’ll be a little rusty.”

You hated that they were talking about you like you weren’t around, but you’d be lying if you said that it wasn’t a little thrilling. You watched as Sunghoon shut the door behind him and tugged his sweatpants down.

“How long have you two been fucking?” he asked, lowering his boxers. He wasn’t as girthy as Jay, but he seemed like he was the same length, if not a little longer.

“Don’t ask questions,” Jay said, and you could feel his cockhead bullying its way into your pussy.

“Fine,” Sunghoom mumbled. Your arms were still braced for doggy, so all Sunghoon had to do was thrust his cock into your mouth, guiding it in with his hand. He groaned as soon as the wetness of your mouth wrapped around his dick.

“She’s good, right?” Jay was now returning to his original pace, slamming into you steadily. He felt so good, intruding inside of your walls. “She’s always…known how to use that big mouth of hers…”

“I see why you started fucking her,” Sunghoon said, fucking your mouth slowly. He could hardly talk, his voice airy already. “She feels good.” It had been so long since you had had a cock in your mouth, and you liked the feeling of having both of your holes filled. You briefly pulled away from his cock to spit on the tile. After wrapping your lips around your teeth, Sunghoon pushed his cock back into your mouth impatiently.

“She’s an angel to me,” Jay said with a wry chuckle, and it made you happy that he wasn’t so mad at you that he couldn’t say anything nice. A hand groped at your breasts, Sunghoon’s pale hands fondling your body.

“I’m jealous,” Sunghoon said. “Wanted to fuck her for years.”

“You can be a little rougher with her,” Jay said, and as he spoke you could feel his pace increasing. He put his hands around your waist and started dragging you on his cock harshly. “Like this.”

Sunghoon took Jay’s advice and grasped both of your cheeks, taking control of your head. He shunted into your mouth like it was a pussy, and what was a mildly uncomfortable experience became his cock choking you. Your mouth filled with spit, and it ran down your neck. You gagged against Sunghoon, not only because of the face-fucking but because of the cock fucking you from the other side.

“Can I fuck her…once you’re done with her?” Sunghoon asked, breathing clearly laboured.

“Sure, buddy,” Jay said. Buddy?

Sunghoon grunted and ravaged your mouth with his cock, the taste overpowering your senses. Your pussy was being worn out by Jay’s dick, and the stimulation was driving you insane.

“Gonna cum inside you,” Jay said. “You aren’t even close to cumming, are you?”

Instead of answering, you moaned against Sunghoon’s cock again. Your arms were growing weak from holding yourself up while the two men used you.

Jay’s cock throbbed inside of you, signaling his imminent release. With a final grunt, he came inside of you, filling your pussy with his cum. “Fuck,” Jay said, and you could hear him rising to his feet. “That was good. Your turn, Seungmin.”

“Sunghoon.”

“Right.”

Sunghoon finally let go of your head and pulled his cock out of your mouth. You gasped for air, and saliva dripped onto the floor. Your arms shook from the exertion.

“Hold her arms,” Jay said, pointing at you. “She’s not gonna be able to hold herself up.”

“What, you think I’ve never fucked before?” Sunghoon snapped, taking the opportunity to run his hands over your body. Unlike Jay’s touch, which always brought a sense of familiarity, Sunghoon was explorative, greedy.

“I don’t know what you’ve done,” Jay said, “but you’re just a little boy to me. I want to make sure you’re fucking my girl right.”

“What, are you going to coach me?” Sunghoon held your wrists behind you in one large hand, his other hand working his cock a few times.

“I’m starting to think I’ll have to,” Jay replied.

“Don’t you dare,” Sunghoon said. His cock probed the inside of your walls, and you gasped. It was all just skin and nerve endings, but you could feel the difference immediately. Sunghoon pulled you back so that you were flush against his chest, using his hips to fuck into you cautiously.

“Turn her around,” Jay said. “I want to see her.”

“Cuck,” Sunghoon muttered, but he obliged, shifting you so that Jay saw you. Jay was leaning against the wall adjacent to the door. He had tugged his boxers back on and his hair was completely matted with sweat. His eyes were cold, colder than you had ever seen them, and your lips trembled.

“You can enjoy it,” Jay said quietly. “I’ve always known you were a bit of a whore.”

“I’m not,” you protested. “I’m not a whore…” Sunghoon plunged his cock into you, brushing against your G-spot, and you let out a cry.

Jay’s gaze remained cold, almost analytical. “If she moans like a whore, fucks like a whore…”

The worst part was you were enjoying it. You liked the way that Sunghoon fucked you. He fucked like a rabbit, energetic and youthful. He grunted and groaned like he was merely trying to chase his own pleasure. Up until today, Jay had always tried to ensure that you enjoyed sex, but they were both treating you like a sexy toy.

You matched Sunghoon’s movements, grinding down onto him when he thrusted into you. They had called you a whore, and you weren’t going to turn down that label. You moaned over and over again.

“Is she always so loud?” Sunghoon asked.

“Normally, she is,” Jay said, and a ghost of affection appeared on his face again.

Sunghoon bucked his hips into you a few more times, but you could feel his cock twitching already. “Shit, where can I cum?”

“You’re cumming already?” Jay asked with a slight chuckle.

Sunghoon didn’t respond, instead yanking his cock out of you with another groan. He pushed you so that you were on your knees once more, stood up, and rained his cum onto your lower back. Then he let go of you and crouched back into the floor, breathing in slowly. Once he caught his breath, he looked at Jay. “Your stepdaughter blueballed me for days,” Sunghoon hissed. “I’m surprised I didn’t cum in her immediately.

You were so overwhelmed that you couldn’t be assed to listen to Sunghoon complain anymore. Instead, you slumped onto the floor completely, cheek resting on the tile once more.

“Poor thing is all tired out,” you heard Jay say sympathetically. After that, you entered a haze of half-wakeness and half-slumber. You didn’t know how much time had passed when you felt someone’s cockhead touching your pussy.

What fascinated you was that you didn’t know whose it was.

#enha smut #enhypen smut #kpop smut #kpop fanfiction #jay x reader #enhypen hard hours #sunghoon x reader #jay smut #park jongseong smut #jongseong smut #park sunghoon smut #sunghoon smut #I wrote this with one hand.

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deathbecomesthem · 2 days

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linecook!Eddie Munson x server!reader | 1K

*not proofread, just thrown together and offered into the Tumblr void.

You’ve come to look forward to the slow days. Even with less bills lining your pocket, you still walk out of the diner with a smile on your face. The slow days are when you get to talk to Eddie. He sits with you at the counter and rolls silverware with you - one roll of his for every three of yours. Your hands move automatically, no need to watch the flashing of knives, forks, and spoons. Eddie’s eyes stay on the napkin as he works. And you watch him.

“...that racoon really had it out for me. I had no idea they could hold a grudge like that.” Eddie’s telling a story, he tells a lot of stories. You missed the first part of it, hypnotized by the way his lips form words. He didn’t shave this morning, you can see short bristles above his lip and know exactly how it would feel to run your finger along them.

“I’m sorry,” you put your hand up, halting his speech, “rewind. I zoned out. Start over.”

Eddie laughs, and you take note of the way his smile cuts into his cheeks. You could curl up in those lines, take a nap in his dimples. “I can’t believe you’d disrespect Frank the Racoon like that. Be careful, or you’ll end up on his shit list too.”

“Well, tell me. What did you do to Frank? It must have been bad if he’s got a vendetta against you.” Eddie looks up at you, and you dart your eyes to the silverware tray between the two of you as if you had not been staring at him for the last several minutes.

“I didn’t do anything. Not on purpose. Frank is unreasonable, he always has been.” Eddie sighs, and resumes his slow and purposeful work. He picks up a knife, sets it on the napkin in front of him, and then a fork, and then a spoon. You risk a look up at him and find his eyes cast down on the set in front of him. “Frank’s been hanging around outside my place for a while now. I couldn’t sleep on night about 6 months ago and found him eating the cat food I leave on the porch-”

“You leave cat food on your porch? Do you have a cat?” You break in, desperate to know if he has a feline pal. He’s never talked about one.

“What? No, I don’t have a cat, per se. There are cats that hang around my place, and I feed them. Kermit, Jonesy, Mint, and Jelly - but we’re talking about Frank right now.” Eddie looks up and points a spoon at your face to emphasize his point. You tilt your head in acceptance, and he continues, “Anyway, so I’ve been feeding the cats salmon flavored Whiskas for years now. I’ve never heard any complaints, and Frank was obviously enjoying it too. About 4 weeks ago, the Kroger on Harris stopped carrying it.”

At this point, you’re really listening with interest. You want to know how this story can end with a racoon plotting Eddie’s demise. You reach into the tray to grab a fork, and Eddie’s hand goes for one at the same time. A rare brush of fingers has you pulling your hand away from his as if you’ve been burned.

“Sorry,” an automatic apology stumbles from your lips. A stupid thing to be sorry over, because Eddie doesn’t even seem to register that small touch, “please go on.”

“Well, I had to start buying the chicken flavored Whiskas. It took me a couple of days to realize the food wasn’t going as fast as it normally does. One morning, on my way to the van, I saw him. Frank was sitting just in the shadows with his little hands held together. I wasn’t watching where I was walking, looking at the way his eyes kind of flickered at me. It was kind of creepy, he looked downright menacing. Just as I made it to the van door, my foot kind of skidded.”

Eddie’s stopped rolling silverware completely. He’s talking with his hands, motioning to show the way his foot slipped. His eyes are wide, as if disbelieving his own story.

“Ok, your foot slipped. What’s that got to do with good ole Frank?” you ask, diverting Eddie’s attention back to you.

“That son of a bitch shit right outside of my van door. And I know what you’re thinking, ‘Eddie, you can’t prove it was the racoon’,” Eddie’s fully mimicking your voice in a rather unflattering way, offering an argument you did, in fact, start churning in your mind, “but that little fucker laughed. Well, it was a squeaky sound that I assume is a raccoon laugh.” Eddie waves his hand as if to shoo the idea of it away, “I know it was him. And I know it was because he doesn’t like the chicken Whiskas.”

“You know? Hmm. Ok, sure. I accept your version of events. Have you tried apologizing?”

“Oh, I apologized. I even started driving to the other side of town to get the salmon Whiskas after 6 straight days of raccoon shit waiting for me outside the van’s door. I even started parking it in a new spot, but there it was - more shit.”

“Oh, I’d like to meet Frank, he seems tenacious,” you say absently, not thinking about what meeting Eddie’s raccoon friend would entail, “and the cats. I love cats, but my landlord won’t allow them.”

“Well, you should come over and meet them. All of them. Don’t worry, I flea treat the cats once a month, and I had them all fixed.”

Eddie’s invitation is something that’s never been done before. He has invited you to do something with him outside of work. You open your mouth to respond, you have no idea what will come out, when the bell at the front door jingles.

It’s the first customer you’ve seen in 2 hours, and Eddie’s gone back to the kitchen before you have a chance to realize the invitation was never accepted. It just hangs there, over the silverware tray.

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #linecook!eddie munson

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uglyducklingofthe2000s · 2 days

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Wanting What You Can't Have - Charles Leclerc

Dark fic - if you don't like this or the warnings/themes make you uncomfortable. I can't stress this enough, DO NOT READ THIS

Similar to I'll Never Date A Fuckboy for Lando, this is pretty damn dark imo to readers proceed with caution

Request from @erikasurfer - Hey girl I love your dark fics! Do you think you could do a dark Charles one and it involves kidnapping, like reader is Charles bestfriend and Arthur’s girlfriend but he’s mad,y in love with her but she’s all for Arthur ? Ignore if you want just an idea lovely 🥰

Themes/warnings: Kidnapping, manipulation, forced break up, public involvement, coerced into cheating, baby trapping, cockwarming, smut (rope is used, briefly)

Honestly everyone, even Arthur a little, was shocked when it came to light that y/n and Arthur had formed a romantic connection. The whole thing was...odd.

Y/n had befriended Charles a few years ago through mutual friends and everyone had sort of noticed a certain smile that Charles had reserved for her. Well everyone but Arthur and y/n noticed apparently.

When the relationship went public with a hard launch on Instagram, there was a lot of love and support. Very few were upset and the more they were together and posting all about each other, it became obvious that they're so perfectly together.

Though y/n still loves Charles...as a best friend.

"Charlie!" Y/n grins jogging to him as they arrive at his yacht. "How have you been? All the way on the other side of the world so much."

"Good. I have missed you." Charles smiles as they hug then he sees Arthur following and moving for a hug as y/n shifts back. "-Both of you."

"I told you I'm his favourite." Y/n smirks looking at her boyfriend who rolls his eyes at her.

Enduring seeing Arthur and y/n together is just not enjoyable.

Charles can paint a smile on his face and a pretend to be happy for them but instead he's never been more disgusted by a couple. But it's his best friend and his brother, he has to be supportive. They're happy.

Even if she should be happy with him and not his brother.

At some point Arthur has to leave, though not without a very big display of affection with y/n who looks like he hung the moon and stars in the sky with how much she seems to admire him.

"I love you." Y/n smiles earning a grin from the youngest Leclerc.

"I love you too. I won't be gone for long and I'll come see you first thing when I'm back."

"Ok." Y/n nods then sighing as Arthur leaves and her gaze remains on his shrinking figure before she feels the presence of yet another Leclerc. "You've got the best brother, you know."

"I know. He's not quite as good as you." Charles jokes, though he does mean it and she laughs nudging him.

"Don't be mean." Y/n giggles before she looks at him. "Anyway, now we have some bestie time. Just you and me."

"Yeah, what should we do first?" Charles asks making her hum in thought.

"Ice cream?"

Charles grins nodding and gesturing for them to leave and head to their favourite ice cream place.

"Oooh...actually can we go to your place for a movie night? I miss our sleepovers." Y/n pouts though the two have only had 2 sleepovers. One of which was a result of her being too lazy to walk any further from a club and Charles' apartment was the first one she could get herself to. The second time she'd got a tooth taken out and Charles offered to be the person who took her home and kept an eye on her to make sure she didn't chew her tongue off.

"You can always come for a sleepover." Charles smiles earning a grin before they get to his car, her holding the ice creams while he drives around.

Y/n is so innocent and gullible that when they get to his place and the thought dawns on him of the potential opportunity. He decides it's a now or never chance.

Arthur is over in Italy for some stuff for Ferrari for the better part of a week.

Charles ends up getting y/n pretty drunk, thankfully with little to no encouragement needed because she doesn't have the concern of alcohols negative effects on her life because she's not a race drive who ever has to be concerned about it.

"Do you really love Arthur?" Charles asks, taking the opportunity of asking while she's too drunk to remember.

"I love him so much, he's...so perfect-and I have you to thank, you-you are the second best. I have to give the best title to your brother. But we both owe you." Y/n smiles lazily, poking a finger at him before she sighs and leans back, sinking into the sofa. "I could get your a girlfriend if you'd let me."

"I'm not interested in anyone you want to set me up with, y/n." Charles states shaking his head earning a pout.

"Why?"

"Because I don't want to be set up with anyone."

"Mmm...I don't know if I believe you." Y/n laughs while picking up her drink to drink more.

After a few more drinks, Charles ends up picking y/n's semi conscious body up and carrying her to his room. She's meant to be sleeping in his guest room but she won't care really.

Now it wasn't necessarily the plan. He really didn't intend to have sex with y/n. But when she semi-drunkenly climbed on top of him. Grinding down on him and kissing him in the darkly lit room.

"Y/n." Charles groans feeling fairly grateful that him and Arthur sound identical when they speak because really he knows she doesn't realise it's him.

"I need you, baby. I need you now." Y/n whines grinding down on him desperately.

And who is Charles to deprive her of what she needs?

"I'll take care of you." He states rolling them overly and while he'd like to waste time with foreplay, he can't risk any time.

The feeling of sliding into her feels like he's transcended into another realm and the moan that falls from her lips only makes him feel like this has to be a dream. But no dream ever feels this glorious.

Her scrambling for grip and pulling him closer, her moany breaths directly in his ear making her lose all control. He's like a man possessed and the moment she orgasms, sucking him in deeper like she's just begging for his cum, he can't hold it.

In fact he doesn't think he's ever came and felt like he's completely emptied himself into a woman like this before. He's certain he has to spend the rest of his life in this woman if he can and if it can't be a constant than it has to be as often as possible.

He rolls them so she's on top and he's still planting deep inside her, slowly softening but not wanting to lose the warmth of her surrounding him.

She places one last kiss on his lips before nuzzling into his neck, then she falls asleep. Growing heavier on top of him as she does so.

Y/n smiles waking up feeling the body underneath her, skin almost stuck together between their bodies and the unfamiliar feeling of waking up to something already semi-hard (seemingly growing hard by the second) seated firmly in her pussy making her hum as she eases from the depth of sleep. T

"Good mor-Charles?!" Y/n squeals, sitting up and hissing at the feeling of his dick poking very much deeper in her tummy from the angle. Even worse there's a wet stickiness which makes her stomach lurch.

After a moment of being frozen in that position she finally screams scrambling off of him and throwing the blanket onto him as she tries to grab for something to cover herself.

"What-What did you do?" Y/n hiccups making Charles sit up carefully looking almost unrecognisable with his cool persona, completely unbothered about what's happening.

"You climbed on me, y/n." Charles states simply while she shakes her head.

"No-I-I was drunk-and you should've stopped me! I love your brother-Arthur loves me. How could you?" Y/n hiccups as tears begin to appear. "I thought you were Arthur."

"You knew he wasn't here."

"I-"

"You just did what you wanted all along. I've seen the way you've looked at me."

"No." Y/n frowns not wanting to hear the lies. "No-I have to go."

Y/n tries to turn but almost in unnatural speed, Charles appears at the door. Slamming it as soon as she tries to get out.

"You're not going anywhere." Charles states with an expression dark enough to send chills down her back. "You're staying here until you will do what I say."

Y/n's lip quivers, eyes trying to blink back tears.

"You're not going to let me go?" Y/n whispers making his expression soften as he moves forward and cups her face with one hand, wavering slightly when she flinches under his touch.

"We're best friends and I know that you love me more than you ever tricked yourself into loving Arthur. He'll understand."

He won't. But he won't have a choice but to accept it. Quite similar to y/n.

"You're crazy-I will never love you." Y/n glares pushing him back.

"You'll change your mind." Charles shrugs as she steps back till her back hits the wall and she slides down.

Y/n wouldn't eat and even tried to avoid sleep, but eventually after 38 hours the lack of sustenance and sleep deprivation caught up to her.

When she wakes up Charles appears with some food that she glares at as if both him and the food are her enemy.

"Not eating isn't hurting anyone but you." Charles comments with a sigh as he sits down on the bed. "You know, that door hasn't been locked. You've made no attempt to leave. If you really loved Arthur and hated me, you'd have left by now-or at least tried."

Y/n swallows thickly, her whole body feeling so heavy with the dread of the fact he's right.

"You know I think you realised how much more you enjoy me than Arthur...We were always meant to get together. I think you were just scared I'd say no so you settled for Arthur." Charles states, not feeling right saying such things about his brother but he'd say whatever he needs to in order to force y/n to love him. "Actually I should call Arthur. Tell him that you cheated on him-"

"No!" Y/n gasps as Charles gets his phone out.

"No? Well he has to find out some way."

"I'll tell him."

"Can I trust you?" Charles questions making her swallow lip trembling as she nods. "Look at me."

Y/n tears her gaze up to look at him.

"I'll tell him the truth."

"And that is?"

"That I cheated on him with you when he left...and that I'm sorry."

Charles knows that trusting her is a risk but she looks sincere and y/n has physical tells when she lies. Which means even if she feels like she's lying while she talks to Arthur, he can't see them and Charles isn't even certain anyone else knows her tells.

He actually gives her her own phone making her realise that he's been replying to texts and messages all pretending to be her. But really she knew that had happened.

"Hey, baby. I was beginning to wonder if you were avoiding me." Arthur laughs as she puts him on speaker and out of genuine emotion, she sniffles. "Baby? What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry." Y/n chokes out taking in a jagged breath. "I cheated on you with Charles...and I'm sorry...I just...I don't know what else to say."

"You cheated on me with my brother. When? Why?"

Y/n looks at Charles who shows no remorse as he smiles at her.

"Because...it's always been him. I thought I could settle for you, but...I love Charles." Y/n states, the words bitter on her tongue. "I'm sorry."

The call cuts from Arthur's side, proving he hung up. Or possibly threw his phone and damaged it.

Y/n places her phone down throwing it away from herself before she curls up.

"I hope you're happy." Y/n spits making him smirk.

"I think we both know I am." Charles shrugs earning a grumble before she lies down but he sits beside her. "We have a long and happy future together. Just accept it and you'll realise how happy you can be."

He leans down kissing the side of her face.

Travelling with Charles out to the next race was an easy way to avoid the potential of running into Arthur now he's back. Not that y/n believes Charles would've allowed her out of his apartment. But even that held a risk of Arthur going there.

The whole paddock and online F1 community was in shock. Seeing y/n appear in the paddock with her supposed boyfriend's older brother.

They'd also noticed how sad and withdrawn she appears. But aside from not quite being able to make her face force a smile, she plays the part of his girlfriend well with Charles. Kisses, accepting of every touch and actually beginning to find herself being quite affectionate.

Out of public sight in the hotel is a different game entirely.

Charles knowing she's off birth control means that she's at his mercy of pregnancy. She's also learned he's not quite a vanilla as his favourite ice cream flavour would suggest, which is how she finds herself tied in ropes to the hotel bed frame as he thrusts in and out of her.

"Ah mon amour, you always feel so good." Charles groans brutalising her cervix and playing with her clit that is so overused that one touch feels like she's about to orgasm.

She hates to admit that of the brothers, who she shouldn't compare but can't help it, Charles is certainly more well endowed and seems to know how to make every touch feel like a blaze of pleasure rushing through her every nerve-ending. But he especially seems to enjoy using her clit like a button to set her off explosively.

Pumping another load into her and pushing himself beyond her capacity does make her wince a little. He's also bigger than Arthur was and whenever she's filled with his cum, only midway through his own orgasm, he's got a hand pressed to her tummy only intensifying the pleasure coursing through her.

By the time he pulls out she feels like he's pushed his cum deep enough that there's no chance that some of it isn't just in there forever.

"I should just leave you here like this. So I can come back whenever I am free and just so it all again." Charles comments running his finger over the ropes keeping her legs up and spread. He pushes his fingers down poking the cum back into her that's leaked out before placing it up onto her tongue for her to suck off the residue. "You're so perfect."

Y/n doesn't say anything as she looks at him, just swallowing the salty residue before he shifts forward to kiss her pausing before it does so.

"I love you."

"I love you too." Y/n whispers before he kisses her, something she returns the action of.

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takami-takami · 2 days

Text

Keigo Takami — Nsfw Alphabet

6k. Hawks x Reader. Minors dni.

- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Oh, Keigo is sickly sweet.

All that post-orgasmic fuzziness is getting funneled directly back towards you: the object of his affections. Every chemical that bursts and pops in his brain when he comes inside you is getting channeled right back into plentiful doting, post-sex.

Keigo's aftercare… It's riddled with indulgent pampering. You know how some dogs bring you their favorite toy to make you happy? Yeah. It's kinda like that. If you had feathers, he'd preen them between his fingertips.

Keigo's the kind of dom who's primary form of aftercare is giving aftercare. He needs to see his hands soothe and treat you like royalty in order to be normal. At his core, Keigo is quite the sensory, visual creature. When he sees your eyes slit shut like a purring cat beneath his touch, that's when he finally allows himself to breathe.

The hero who is so desperate to help and wants to see people smile more than anything, to the point that it disintegrates him, finally being given a healthy outlet for all those urges to protect and provide and keep you safe? Yet it's still a kind of "work" that satisfies his workaholic nature without feeling like work at all? And it simultaneously serves as the purest, most soothing indulgence he's ever had the pleasure to sink his teeth into?

Oh my god. It makes him normal.

Physical touch is a big one. He's a bit handsy and gets in your personal space, but you don't mind one bit, so it bodes well for the both of you. If you let him pull you into the bath with him after, he likes to wash and run his palms along your body even though you're perfectly capable of doing something like that yourself. His little "let me, babe" is an instruction and a beg all at once. Expect him to get a bit playful with the bubbles, though.

Part of why Keigo loves baths with you is because of the part where you turn him over, gently preening and pinching the bristles of each feather until his brain melts to goo once more.

You're going straight to bed after. No buts. You deserve some well-earned rest after you did so good for him. Keigo made sure to start buying the softest blankets and pillows he could find after you started getting intimate together. Don't ask him why.

Keigo doesn't shy away from verbal affirmations, either: "Oh, baby, you did so good for me", "you're perfect", "I'm so proud of you." He never did like holding back his true feelings on things, and speaking to you is no different. He is going to let it spill and that's that.

For aftercare that he needs personally, be sure to reflect how much his aftercare helps you and be honest about what you need! Whether they're verbal or not, he's quite skilled at understanding cues. It's good for him to be shown the fruits of his actions for a change, even if he doesn't think he needs it.

It's good for him as much as you.

- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Keigo never stopped to think about his favorite part of his body. If you asked him, he'd likely cock his head to one side like a doberman puppy given a command they can't exactly interpret on the spot.

He supposes everyone expects him to answer with the word "wings"— even though those closest to his inner circle would balk at such a notion, knowing how complicated that whole situation is. Yes, and no.

The answer comes easily, after he meets you. Keigo likes the way you look into his eyes. In that way, he learns to love them.

He abhors his hands, but he worships yours. Every bump and ridge, the sharp roundness of each knuckle, the length of each finger. The way you hold him, the way you touch him. He'd shudder in recounting this, if you were to ask him what parts of you he likes best.

He also adores chests. That skin-to-skin contact is soothing; and although he can hear your heartbeat through his feathers already, pressing his ear directly against the source grounds him deeply. It makes him feel ablaze and at peace all at once, the bareness of your skin.

- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

This boy cums a lot. Like… Genetically. He's blessed. Whatever god is out there gave him the right equipment for his breeding kink in a stroke (ha) of good luck.

Keigo cums sticky, excessive, fat ropes— his backshots are insane, his facials outrageous, his creampies coating the sides of his cock white and spilling out of you before he even can pull out because there's just not enough room for all his cum inside you.

Keigo is a gentleman, so he will ask your input respectfully beforehand without letting his desires slip through the cracks when he pants the question, "where do you want me?"

But you both know the truth.

You're perfectly aware there is nowhere else his poor, sad, pathetically needy dick would rather burst and throb than stuffed deep inside you. Balls deep, as flush as your bodies can practically go, subtly grinding against your ass rather than thrusting because he would rather die than pull out even a fraction while he's in the midst of an orgasm this good.

The orgasms he experiences when he's inside you are the closest Keigo will get to religion.

How else is his cock supposed to get milked? Not inside of you? Fuck out of here.

- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He, uh… Likes to be humiliated and talked down to. And stepped on... A lot. More than a lot. It makes his brain go fuzzy with the lack of control. Don't ask him where that kink comes from. Really, don't worry about it!

Keigo is also the type of guy to swear he's not into feet (he's into feet). No, really, he just thinks your boots suit you and he swallows a lot around them because he's just so fascinated with the, uh… The style. Yeah. You can prop your feet up on him like a footrest, if you want. It's intimate, or something— whatever, just do it.

Can he kiss them? Can he unlace your boots? Do you want a foot massage tonight, babe? It's no inconvenience, really, don't worry about it, he insists… Please? Fuck, please, would you let him touch you, your skin is so soft, he promises he's been so good please god just let him feel your soles against his hot, throbbing cock— I mean his hands. When he massages them. As a favor to you.

Fuck, his dick is hard now. That's your fault. This is all your fault for wearing sleek leather and not ordering him to rut against it like a fucking dog. Leather boots as a "fashion choice" his ass, you're torturing him. You have to be doing this on purpose. That's your fault, not his, but he's sorry anyway if that means you'll punish him by stepping on his dick so gently with your—

- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Virgin loser.

But no, seriously, Keigo has had neither the time nor the cognitive space to stop and consider his own sexuality, let alone experiment with it. It's not like he would have trusted anyone enough to do so with, anyway. Fat fucking chance.

As far as whether he knows what he's doing, he starts off tentative and curious, absorbing the information of your body and voice like a damn sponge. When he tests the waters, so to speak, he starts slowly and observes any miniscule quirk of your muscles, every hitched breath in response to the stimuli he offers.

Keigo is a quick learner and a perfectionist. Don't expect him to take the backseat for long.

- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary.

Undoubtedly, missionary. He's romantic, like that.

What more could a man want? Your ankles hooked across the small of his back, his right hand entwined with yours while his left kneads every inch of your body, focusing on petting your sex whenever he wants to hear your voice whine for him.

Keigo gets the perfect view like this. He can absorb all you have and breathe it into his lungs and swallow it while he gulps down your image like a sacreligious idol. Like an angel. Like worship.

The connection of it all maddens him. He adores the way he can press your thighs up and into a mating press if he so pleases, deep enough to stuff your guts full of him and make you sob gooey tears with how good it feels. It allows him unbridled access to your thighs, your chest, your hands, your mouth (which he plays with unashamedly like his favorite toy. Fingers, tongue, lips.)

God help him, Keigo loves missionary.

- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

As serious as Keigo wants to take the love you share, for every intimate night you make love and absolutely nothing else, there's another day he makes you laugh so hard your chest aches like a bruise in bed.

Keigo can be a brat. A little shit, a pain in the ass. This is no secret. Still, every joke and nibble and tackle and moan is utterly saturated. It's sticky. It's lovesick.

He likes to banter in battle, and that switch doesn't turn off when the conflict is between the sheets. There are nights he simply allows himself to be your pillow princess, laid back and spoiled in the fluff of your bed like it's made of heated cashmere; and there are other nights you grant Keigo the holy sacrament of servicing you while you simply lounge and watch him do what he does best.

Those nights, not many words are exchanged. There's no need to say them.

You get each other.

Even so, you cannot count the amount of times you've choked "shut the fuck up" through laughter over the years, when sex looks more like tussling than worship. It's stress relief as much as it is bonding, play as much as it is intimacy. Still, Keigo keeps a good balance of humor and seriousness.

Can't have all work and no play, can he? He never was a dull boy.

- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Keigo has trimmed hair that is still blonde, but slightly darker than the hair on his head. It's well-kept.

He keeps his chest bare, unfortunately, to look photogenic for his modeling gigs and such. But after many nights spent begging and pleading on your knees, Keigo sort of considers keeping the happy trail. After the night you traced your tongue down the trail toward his cock, promising he'll get this kind of treatment if he keeps it, Keigo never shaves it again.

Oh, Keigo's happy trail… It crawls up his navel and stops just short of his belly button; dark and noticeable, but a little sparse, kind of like the scruff on his chin. It makes him look more rugged while simultaneously making him appear prettier somehow, because Keigo is nothing if not unfairly contradictory and magnificent in everything. Asshole.

You suppose anything would look good with those abs as a backdrop, though.

- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect?

Keigo never knew intimacy before he met you. It sounds like hyperbole, the word never; but whether people believe him or not, it doesn't erase the decades of longing for no one and nothing in particular, a parasocial ghost that both plagued him and kept him trudging forward.

Keigo builds community for others, working to connect their hearts… Why wasn't he invited, again? Oh well, that doesn't matter to him. That's not why he does the work he does. His own happiness is never why Keigo does fucking anything.

It's for the greater good. And Keigo is worse than everyone else, isn't he? It makes sense why he wouldn't be invited. He never stopped to question that.

You don't touch him like he's dirty, though. The first time your palm slid up his throat, he stiffened and trembled like a twig that might have snapped beneath your boot; but when you hush him this softly, he's a stray kitten in your maws, plucked and wrapped for the first time in fleece and warmth and love. For as feral as the world made him, Keigo is at his core quite a domestic thing. You put him back in place when you make love to him.

In turn, Keigo offers himself to you. It's not much, but it's yours if you'll have it, he says. The louder he gets when you fuck him, the more you realize he's opening up his lungs like buds awake from frost.

You know from experience what that's like. He opens you up, too.

- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Keigo had to go through a bit of a journey to arrive where he's at.

Namely, over the course of his sad little life, he underwent three categorical phases. Do not mind the tiered nature of the following sections. This shift was, in actuality, torturously gradual; like having one's body dragged forward by its ankles, finally accepting you have no say in where it's headed after a few desperate claws at denial.

Jerking off was a chore, a half-assed attempt at wringing the frustration of a long day out of his body and letting it wash down the drain on Sunday nights— every other time of the week was booked to the nines with hero work. Ten minutes for yanking it, tops. If Keigo timed his sessions with a stopwatch, he'd fall just short of the millisecond every time. Score. Efficiency. Plop down in bed and go straight to sleep after so you don't have to think about how lonely that whole experience just made you feel.

Enter, scene: you. After meeting you, masturbation just wasn't the same. It frustrated him that he even had to use the same word to describe it, because as far as Keigo was concerned, this was not the same activity in the slightest. Those were the golden years, when jerking off felt less like "rubbing one out" and more like "this is how it feels to drown in liquid gold. This is how it feels to have your cause of death be every neuron in your brain spontaneously combusting in a fit of pleasure. This is how it feels to be in love." The first time he allowed himself to touch his cock to the thought of you, Keigo swore he saw god; and when he finished an hour later, the back of his hand was chewed to whimpering bits. Yeah, those were the golden years.

And here we are, back to square one. After you finally get together, Keigo is back to square one. What do you mean he has to use his own hand when he's on missions away from you? What do you mean he can't cum inside you? This sucks. This blows. It's not the same, and for all his patience and respectability, the lack of passion when he touches himself kills Keigo with sexual frustration. The only thing it accomplishes is planting a pathetic whimper of "fuck, I miss them" in his head while he pants post-orgasm in a shitty motel bed alone at two in the damn morning. You do get a really cute text message after every time; something chaste like "missing you tonight <3." It's so obvious. You simply have to laugh.

- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Breeding, obviously.

Dumbification, both ways. Thinking is overrated! And honestly, he deserves a bit of a break from all the whirring that goes on in his overheated, overworked, cognitive machine of a brain. Something about the responsibility for guiding his partner through it when he's the one who doms is special to him, too.

Oral fixation, because he's the cutest little biter. He chews. Keigo also gets lost with his mouth latched onto your chest, flicking his eyes upward periodically when he has the mental faculties to think for half a second (which is not all that often, when his mouth is full, his lips are pursed, and his tongue is lapping its fill.) He also adores giving head!

Subspace, too— Keigo is a fiend for subspace, either guiding you through it or getting lost in it, himself.

Huge fan of edging and overstim. Keigo is not a physical sadist at all, he never wants to make you cry out of pain; but tears of frustration are not just "on the table," they're a goddamn feature. He is such a pain in the ass. You can't blame him for being insufferable, for stopping just short of your orgasm when you want to cum and forcing more out of you when you think it's too much. He's just having so much fun!

Keigo is the kind of guy to edge you when you say you're close and click his teeth dramatically before he goes, "ahhh, shucks, baby. What was that? Did you ask for something? I didn't hear you that time. Ask nicer."

He tilts his chin to the side and taps his ear with two stiff fingers when he leans in, invading your space as he mockingly orders: "Say it louder for me."

And after you throw your little fit about how mean he's being, how he’s such a bully, Keigo finally feels emboldened to move onto the next phase. He makes you feel good until you're sobbing, expertly dragging climax after climax out of your body until you're so overstimulated you can barely speak and are lacking more than a few electrolytes. In which case, Keigo will make a point to laugh at your complaints. He'll say, "aww, I thought you liked coming? Aren't I being nice? Don't pout, I'm just giving you what you asked for!"

This is not so much a kink, but he likes the title daddy because of the trust, affection, and protective responsibility being 'daddy' implies. Assuming responsibility during sex feels like home to him; because for the first time in his life, he has a healthy outlet for those urges and instincts that have caused him so much trouble. He admits in canon to being desperate to be of use and help, after all— oh, and along that same vein, he loves to service top.

Keigo thinks the title "sir" is really cute too! But mostly, he treasures the nicknames and pet names you come up with for him. His names of "Keigo Takami" or "Hawks" have never felt stable for him growing up. So nicknames are nice, for a change.

And he has a mommy kink because of his mommy issues. You'll actually have to be very gentle about this because he absolutely does not recognize where it comes from at all.

- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

In bed. Anywhere in his home, really— surfaces, the floor, cabinets somehow— but he especially prefers to take you in bed. It's not a nest thing, trust me (it totally is).

The way Keigo's quirk works isn't an actual animal quirk, so he's not literally a bird and his bed is not literally a nest. But he does possess a number of birdlike oddities, and this is one of them!

He also just feels safe, secure, and at ease in his home (not the one from the commission, his actual home). Given his whole thing about his little roosting place in canon, it makes sense that the bedroom holds special significance to Keigo in particular.

Keigo bought you some blankets. He really, really hopes you like them.

- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Service. Pleasure and sensation is fantastic for him, he thrives in it, but eroticism is cognitive for him as well (or, ya know, lack of cognitive during dumbification). Don't get him wrong, a simple "woah!" and a popped half-chub from seeing you shirtless is still something that definitely happens, but he can be a complex man, too. He promises.

Most of all, Keigo is an observant sponge. He likes to watch, to study, to learn, to analyze, to perfect— like a cat confined in an enclosure given toys and apt time to chase and solve as a form of enrichment.

Sex is special and a bonding activity, but as much as he's a sucker for the plain old basics— the romantic part of it all— it's no surprise that Keigo gains a great deal of satisfaction from gently mapping the parts of your psyche that make you tick. And obviously, as Keigo is one for outcomes, just mapping you out isn't enough for him.

He should be able to play with the fruits of his labor, too, no? The satisfying pop of your last brain cell has something of a Pavlovian effect for him. That's when the real fun of it begins.

- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Any heavy impact play. This is an absolute no from him. He doesn't want to do it with tools like flogs, whips, etc; but it's especially worse when it's his own hands. He can't exactly pinpoint why, though (poor birdie has a thing about his hands being dirty). For that matter, he dodges anything that would bring you more physical pain than, say, a firm tap. Keigo does enough of that at his job, he doesn't want to hurt his baby, too.

A couple love taps on the cheek or thigh are the most you'll get, but the way he does it is more than enough to get your brain fuzzy. He's a biter and scratches a bit, though! So if you're into pain, this is where you'll find common ground.

Never call him filthy or dirty, or ever imply he is either of those things, even as a joke or to tease him.

He's not a fan of choking, but specifically when he's the one doing it. Again, it reminds him of his job. He's okay being choked himself, though, since he believes he's perfectly capable of handling himself (and he's used to putting his life on the line, anyways).

- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Most are familiar with the "Keigo-drowns-between-your-thighs-and-dies-happy" headcanon at this point, but the classics are classics for a reason.

He prefers giving over receiving. It's not even close, honestly. Your orgasms against his tongue satisfy him more than his own— not that he won't be touching himself while he goes down on you. Because he absolutely will.

Rough day? He'll eat it from the back to cheer himself up.

Good day? He tops it off with you on top of his face, of course.

Mediocre day? Fuck it, he's on his knees and his mouth is on you before his keys hit the table, anyways.

One of your fondest memories you recount to him endlessly (to his embarrassed chagrin) is a night you two were roleplaying in bed. The slippery fucker thought he was slick, tied to the bedpost as he attempted to— in character and in scene— subtly propose you sit on his face as a "punishment" in that pathetic little oh no, whatever will I do type of voice.

His face flushed scarlet when you burst into laughter over him, breaking character and nearly busting a lung in the process.

Oral? As punishment? For Keigo? Did he actually think you were going to buy that? Oh my god. You never let him live it down.

- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Depends on his mood and yours. Oftentimes, you find yourselves synced and on similar wavelengths; but other times, as all couples inevitably see, there's a bit of a mismatch between sharp and smooth desires. On those nights, Keigo takes the liberty of defaulting to softness.

He easily slows his pace when you tell him you want it syrupy and molten, regardless of how pent up he is. But more interestingly, Keigo is able to see when your "give it to me rough" doesn't reach your eyes.

When you ask for rough sex with your hands clutching his tee shirt and a shaky look in your eye, that's when Keigo rolls up his sleeve and kisses you softly. If you pitch a fit, he'll shush it away. Both wrists are kissed, and both thighs are placed reverently on his shoulders.

"Why are you doing that," you ask.

"Because I like you a whole lot, dummy," he answers, pecking a kiss on your tummy. "Let me show you how much?"

- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

When it comes down to it, Keigo is a hero. His career comes first, so quickies are a delightful inevitability in this line of work. Given his particular gift for espionage and the equipment he carries to boot (feathers, baby), the chances of anyone catching him in the act are slim enough to slide under the door to the broom closet he's fucking your brains out in.

But make no mistake, just because Keigo can break you down quickly doesn't mean he prefers it. He'd much rather take you in his bed achingly, ironically slow for a man so beloved for his speed. He'd rather be meticulous with you, but he can't always get what he wants exactly when he wants it. Self control is unfortunately a thing he has to consider, he'd sigh.

He's still going down on you during quickies, though. No way in hell he'd deny himself that.

- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Keigo is quite careful with you. He cradles you in his maws like fresh fruit fit to burst— sinking his canines just enough to pierce your skin and sample your juices, but never using enough pressure to cause you any tangible damage. He wouldn't want to hurt his baby, even if part of him does want to deconstruct you a little; just not in a destructive sense. His preferred method of breaking down is to coax out your moans the way a gardener coaxes the sprout of his very own harvest.

That being said, once Keigo becomes comfortable enough with you to let the guard dog in his heart rest in your lap, he is open to a surprising amount, sexually speaking. Whatever it is, he's clever enough to find a way to make it sexy— and if a certain kink or position doesn't work out as planned, he's grounded enough to remain confident you can both get a laugh out of it together, at least.

You just get each other like that, you and him; and fuck, if that isn't the hottest thing in the world to him.

He feels safe enough with you to treat your bed like a playground and a temple all at once. Keigo stops and considers his new life one night as he takes the BDSM test with you, sitting cross-legged on the floor with a mouth still spilling crumbs from that night's takeout. His chest hurts from laughing, his heart is fuller than his stomach; and for the first time in his life, another person feels like home to him.

- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Multiple. Many. Numerous.

This is Keigo's forte, his wheelhouse, his territory. You're out of your mind if you think you can outlast this man, but it's cute of you to try.

Your attempts to keep your sorry little mind held together by willpower and duct tape for just a little while longer are absolutely adorable to him. He'll use that against you, too.

- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Keigo doesn't own any toys— well, he didn't, before he met you. A few painful months after he realized it was actually you that made his heart beat, he buys a fleshlight to kind of, sort of, maybe pretend it's you.

Disrespectful, yeah. He knows. But it's better than the alternative. He can't afford to get you mixed up into his life; and if fucking a chunk of silicone every couple of nights to unscramble the plague of you from his head and make it normal (it makes it worse) is the sacrifice Keigo has to make, then call him Japan's number one martyr, because he's going to wring his money's worth out of the damn thing (and his cock).

Once Keigo gets over that thinly-veiled form of self-sabotage, he buys a couple of toys to use on you, instead.

- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Life's unfair, sweetheart.

That's what Keigo tells you, smile wide and gloved hands clasped behind his back as he encircles your bed.

He adores his handiwork, tied up, gagged, and stuffed in every orifice. He's not a sadist, he swears! He just wants to… Overwhelm you a little. It's fun! And it's not Keigo's fault, really, that he likes to play with his food.

Honestly, he's doing you a favor by teasing you to bits! You like it, don't you? All pouts and "please"s, but the moment he takes away that stimulation you nearly throw a fit (how adorable. Keigo adores his little brat.)

The only comfort granted to you is the sound of his voice, all buttery rich and familiar; but even that notion carries a caveat. The words he decides to spill aren't exactly fair. Condescending bits of praise he knows will get you to whimper for him just right, questions he knows you can't answer properly in this state…

Point is, Keigo will use every resource available to be unfair to you because he's the worst combination of perfectionist and pain in the fucking ass. If he doesn't edge you up to the damn millisecond before an orgasm, Keigo won't consider it a job well done; and a job insufficiently done is not a job done at all. He'll have to give it another go until he does it right.

… And another, and another, for good measure.

- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Keigo is loud.

He's embarrassingly, heart-wrenchingly loud. The oh-god-did-I-leave-the-window-open kind of loud, especially when he subs. He's such a fucking baby about it; like he's crying for attention, for you. Poor thing. Whimpering, moaning, sniffling for attention like a puppy with its tail between its legs peeking from between a dog crate's bars.

Keigo never was one to hold himself back or keep his mouth shut— he's not the shy type, exactly— and you look like the type of person to be into that kind of shit, anyway, he'd attest later with an infuriating smile.

Is he wrong? He rarely is. Bastard.

But regardless, Keigo tends to run his mouth. His voice is his most precious weapon to use against you when he's on top, too— sharper than any feather he's ever grown, that's for damn sure. His dirty talk reveals his silver tongue and charisma more than anything.

Keigo is a switch, but he enjoys the luxury of changing your mood quite quickly with his voice alone. He doesn't have to try hard at all to get you into subspace or domspace, really. All it takes is a "make me" to get you to be mean to him, a "please" to get you to pamper him, a "watch it" to get you to shrink, a "poor baby" to get you to melt.

He's not the only one that's well-trained, it seems.

- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

His wings puff up a little when he cums. Like a Ghibli character, yeah.

When he's babbling while he gets a good lay, dick wet and balls deep into a real good fuck, Keigo's wings shudder from the shoulderblades to the wingtips. They flap a few times for good measure, uncontrolled with arousal. It's not like he couldn't suppress the instinct to do so. It's just that he knows it drives you wild to see him as authentic and raw as he wishes he could be.

It's a little unconscious, but moving his wings during sex also entices your hands to play with them a little. You always did like to fidget, and what better way to peacock in front of his precious partner than to flap their favorite fidget toy within arm's reach?

It's mutually beneficial, thank you very much. You get a little something to grip on to while he blows your back out, and Keigo gets to blow his load while you tug at an erogenous zone arguably more sensitive than his cock.

It's a win-win.

- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

The wishful thinking answer is that he is big but not like, ouch big, about 6 inches or so. HOWEVER, realistically, this is not the case. There is evidence to consider.

His pants are very baggy. This raises questions. Nobody wears pants that baggy at the crotch all the fucking time unless they are packing. He also carries a certain energy with him. BDE or whatever. So this bumps him up to about 6.5-7 inches as an estimate. But honestly, it's difficult to say! Because Keigo is also not particularly tall or anything.

It curves a bit upward when he's rock hard and it slaps against his stomach when he's on his back. Mostly smooth save for a few prominent veins. Nothing crazy, but enough to be visually appealing or trace if you want to. His dick is ever so slightly darker than the rest of him and a bit flushed, especially at the tip. The head is proportional/average and swells darker when he's hard or edged.

Huge breeder balls. They're sensitive, too. And he gives insane cumshots. Like, he cums a lot. A lot. His backshots are out of this world. Fat, sticky ropes. A gift for his breeding kink, truly.

He has a very, very pretty dick. Like the kind you'd look at and go "wow, congrats man" and give him a firm handshake. The kind of dick you stick a little blue award ribbon that says "best in show" on and pop a confetti popper.

- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Not very high at all, interestingly. It's pretty par for the course, for a man his age; if not a bit dampered at times by his constant business and overworked nature.

When Keigo gets into it, he gets into it, sure, but his drive isn't really on the higher side. It's more of an "on" and "off" switch that he has a pretty solid handle on. His cool head up top tends to trump the hot one between his legs.

Well. You kind of throw a monkey wrench in that whole system, but that's okay. No, really, it's cool. He still is able to begrudgingly do the same old routine, this time through gritted teeth and with a head nearly thunked against the wall in agonized frustration.

When you send him racy pics before his afternoon patrol, it technically is possible for him to will his boner down and think of something else. And that is what he ultimately decides to do— just with a little footnote tucked away for later.

He'll get you back. He always does.

- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Eepy. Falls asleep on top of you, cradled like a teddy bear. Zzzzz.

#✒ writing #smut #🌶 spice #hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader #mha smut #bnha smut #minors dni

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simpjaes · 3 days

Note

Have you ever written about thigh riding..I was watching clips of Jay playing his quitar and it made me think because his thighs looked a little too good-

thigh riding jay wc: 532

using Jay like you would a pillow after a too-lonely weekend should probably be embarrassing, but the way he encourages you by guiding your hips with his hand makes you feel like maybe he's into it. "does that feel good?" he half-chuckles up against your ear, one arm wrapped around your waist to hold you close to him, and the other gripping your hip to move you back and forth.

you nod only slightly against him, focusing on the feeling that shoots through you each time the inseam of your own shorts pulls tight against your clit.

it's an uncomfortable mess. his pants plus your shorts creating a barrier of friction and electricity between what's both causing and retrieving the pleasure from this. you can feel how wet your panties are, and you've even soaked through your shorts too.

the sound of clothing rubbing somehow only makes this more arousing, probably because you got too desperate for him a mere few minutes ago, hopping up on his lap and straddling his thigh. what started as a surprised smile, mostly because he loves when his girlfriend clings to him with those loving hugs, turned into a knowing smile. it took him a solid three seconds for his brow to raise in curiosity upon realizing exactly what you were doing. and he's into it, loving that even without his dick out, you still get pleasure from him. the image of what the two of you must look like in third person right now only turns him on more. such a desperate girl, not even able to wait? you know you could have more, you know all you'd have to do is pull it out and sit on it. but somehow, this is hotter. for him, it's the fact that you're shameless in how much you want him sometimes, taking what you can get despite knowing you can have so much more. he couldn't ask for anyone better. especially with the way you arch your back when he grabs your ass through this, and the way you moan and groan right up against that little birth mark on his neck. he knew it was one of your favorite spots to kiss, and you know it's his favorite spot for you to moan against. and he just lets you. relishing in the way he can feel how soaked your shorts are, looking down to see the wet spot slowly seep into his own pants. to the point he's hard too, and each little bump of his cock with your knee as you grind only sends him further into the headspace you're in. and both of you would get off that way too. immediately after your orgasm, you'd feel him pull you from straddling his thigh to straddling his hips. there, he'd continue to guide you, out of breath, making out, clinging to each other. up until jay makes an even bigger mess in his own pants, and the two of you are left catching your breath and blinking at each other with ringing ears. "so, what was that for?" jay would eventually ask with a half smirk. "i dunno, your thighs just looked really good today."

#enhypen smut #park jongseong smut #jongseong smut #jay smut #park jay smut #hardthots

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sunafc · 2 days

Text

That’s what you get for ditching me — ft. Toji Fushiguro

cw: wc 1.8k, NSFW, mdni, 18+, fem reader, fwb, toji calls the reader ‘kid’ and ‘little one’ as a pet name but the reader is very much an adult ! !, toji is obsessed with reader, mutual masturbation, a bit of spit kink, if there are typos ignore them 🙂‍↕️

To say Toji liked you was an understatement. After your first night together he wanted nothing more than to be inside you again, to taste you again, to feel your skin on his again. After a few more nights with you he got you a toothbrush to keep at his house, so you wouldn’t have to leave after the sex. One time you forgot your makeup remover and the next time he had gotten one just for you along with a box of cotton pads. Then, he dropped all his other hookups. So he didn’t just like you, he was pretty much obsessed. Toji doesn’t understand how it all happened, you entered his life and now everything is about you. Happened so quickly he didn’t even notice.

All of the things above brought him to this moment, sulking on a saturday evening alone at his house because you’re on a date with some random ass guy whose name Toji couldn’t care less to remember. He’s not jealous, he says to himself. He has no reason to be. You two are just friends and you assured him that, even if you started seeing the guy, you still wouldn’t be exclusive. So no, he’s not jealous. Toji just hopes that as you look in the guy’s ugly eyes you think of how many times you’ve complimented his green ones.

The familiar ding from your text notifications stops his overthinking and when he sees your text Toji can’t help but smirk to himself.

you: this date was shit

toji: yeah? that’s what you get for ditching me

Yeah okay, maybe he is a little jealous. Petty, too. Sometimes he makes you wonder if he really is the older one in your ‘‘relationship’’.

you: toji :(

toji: what do you want kid

you: are u home?

toji: what now you wanna come over?

you: please?

toji: ...

toji: the door’s open

toji: brat

He wishes he could show these texts to your date. A smug smile creeps on his face as he mumbles to himself how he won. He pours himself a glass of whiskey while waiting for you.

‘Can I come in?’ You ask as you open the door.

‘I’m in the kitchen,’ Toji says loud enough for you to hear from the doorway.

You make your way to him. He’s sitting on a stool at the kitchen counter, drink in hand.

You drop your purse on the floor, ‘Hey.’

‘Hey, kid,’ he eyes you, ‘All dolled up, let me see you,’ he motions you to turn around for him and you indulge him before sitting on the stool next to him.

You look amazing in your short dress, thigh highs and heels. You don’t need him to tell you so as his eyes do the talk for him. He offers you a glass which you gladly accept.

‘It was so bad, he was so bad,’ you take a sip from your glass.

Toji’s face contorts in a grimace as he imagines you with another guy. His hand moves to stroke your thigh, he needs you to know he’s there.

You complain about your date for a while as Toji smiles to himself knowing that at the end of the day he’s the one you’re going back to. He’s glad the guy was a dick and shit in bed, he doesn’t care how selfish that is of him.

‘These heels are killing me, too.’ You whine.

‘Come here,’ he slides his hand from your thigh to your ankle so he can loosen up the strap of your shoe and slip it off. He does the same with your other shoe and when he’s done his hand goes back to rest on your thigh.

You lean in to leave a quick peck to the scar at the corner of his lips, ‘Thanks, Toji.’

He fears his heart is going to burst everytime you do that, ‘You drive me insane,’ he mutters under his breath.

You giggle and give him another peck, right on his lips this time.

He grabs the stool you’re sitting on and pulls it closer to his until there’s no more space between them, his face so close to yours, ‘How about a real kiss now?’

You gulp, suddenly feeling your cheeks getting warmer. He’s leaning in slowly, your lips part on their own and he smirks against them before closing the gap completely. He grips your thigh as you bite his bottom lip, his other hand grabs your jaw and as he forces your mouth open, he slips his tongue in. Toji loves your lips. He thinks they were made just to be kissed, by him specifically. It didn’t matter if you were wearing liptstick, lip gloss or chapstick, he would kiss you anyway. You pull on his hair to move his face away from yours, in need of air. You’re both panting but Toji doesn’t seem to be bothered by it and soon his lips are on yours again. He’s addicted, he feels like he could live off of your kisses. You, on the other hand, you really do need air.

You pull his head again, ‘Wait,’ you puff, ‘Give me a moment, Toji.’

You're breathless, your lipstick is all smudged. Toji thinks you look stunning like this. He stands from his stool, picks you up and sits you on the counter. His hands travel with faint touches on your thighs, then under your dress. Your skin burns under his touch. He kisses your neck, leaving marks behind them. His hands grab your ass as he sucks on your skin at the base of your neck. A whimper escapes your lips and Toji smiles smugly against you. He gently slides the straps of your dress off of your shoulders, sending shivers down your body. He’s doing everything so painfully slow, you’re getting impatient. You’re starting to squirm under his every touch. He holds your face with one hand and kisses you. With the other hand he unfastens your bra and then moves to massaging your boobs, fingers playing with one nipple then the other. You’re gripping his tshirt, pulling him closer. He breaks the kiss and lowers himself to leave more kisses to your chest, this time. He licks one of your nipple then sucks on your boob. More whimpers leave your lips as you feel his tongue on your skin, warm and wet. His fingers ghost over your skin failing to ever really touch you. You can feel yourself getting wetter and wetter. He’s playing with you and you know it. You move to unbuckle his belt.

‘Eager, little one?’ He teases you. His hand under your dress, grazing your inner tight, so close to where you’d like it to be but not quiet there yet.

You unzip his pants, ‘Quit playing,’ you let them fall to the ground and you palm his erection through his boxers, ‘Need more.’

‘Ask nicely,’ his thumb brushes over your clit and your body follows his hands in search for more.

‘Please, Toji,’ you say.

‘Mhm,’ he kisses your jaw, ‘Please what?’

You slip your hand in his boxer and curl your finger around his cock, making him groan in return, ‘Please touch me.’

He lifts your dress up and then slips it off of you completely. His hand moves in your underwear and his fingers glide between your folds. He slips a finger inside your cunt and, at the same time his thumb starts massaging your clit, he slips another digit in.

‘Were you this wet for him, too?’ He asks continuing to play with your body, making you moan nonstop.

You shake your head.

His fingers keep curling inside you, ‘Did he touch you like this?’, he hits the right spot again and again, a loud cry comes out of your lips, ‘Did he touch you how you like to be touched?’

You shake your head frantically trying to remain concentrated on stroking his dick but really, the only thing on your mind, is how his long fingers fill you up. How he really knows what you like and how you like it.

He holds your jaw, ‘Answer me with words, Y/n.’

‘N–No,’ you’re panting and there’s drool coming out of your mouth.

‘I know your body better than anyone,’ Toji whispers in your hear.

You grind on his fingers, ‘Even better than me.’

That strikes something inside of him and in a second his lips clash with yours, kissing you feverishly as he toys with your clit and his digits keep moving in and out of you in a rush. He bites your bottom lip and you can feel his hand all over your body as with the other one he curls his finger to reach that specific spot inside of you. Your body shakes in pleasure. You’re making all kinds of sounds and Toji is eating every single one of them as he moves his lips on yours.

‘Aw, doll,’ Toji says, ‘Already coming?’

‘S—shut up,’ you mutter under your breath.

Your hand on his cock gets slower as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to your climate. Toji doesn’t mind the way you’re starting to neglet him, right now he’s only interested in making you feel good, to remind you he’s the best fuck you’ll ever have no matter how many other guy you sleep with. He licks the saliva that’s sliding down your chin and leaves more wet kisses along your jaw and neck. You’re catching your breath, mouth agape. Toji loves when you’re breathless and disheveled because of him. He wishes he could take a picture of you right now, the lipstick that was on your lips is barely visible now, your hair is a mess, your cunt filled by his fingers, one hand gripping his tshirt and the other around his dick. You look perfect like this. He slips his thumb in your mouth, keeping it open, he presses down on your tongue and spits inside. It wasn’t the first time he did that but it still took you by surprise. Your fingers on his cock stop altogether and you look at him confused, you swallowed it nonetheless.

‘Don’t make that face, kid,’ he grazes your cheek with his thumb still damp from your mouth, ‘I know your dying wish is to be baptized in my spit.’

Your eyes widen and your cunt clamps thight on his fingers, a broken cry comes out of you as you finally reach your high.

Toji brings his fingers to his mouth and licks the cum off of them, ‘You’re so filthy,’ he smirks, ‘Cumming from that.’

You avoid his gaze feeling ashamed and Toji smiles.

‘Don’t get shy on me now,’ he rubs his tip against your clit, ‘We’re not done yet.’

notes: the ‘i know your dying with is to be baptized in my spit’ is actually lyrics from the song ‘funeral gray’ by waterparks ! !

#jjk #jjk x reader #jjk smut #toji #toji smut #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro smut #minors dni #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen

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