#because I know you didn't mean anything by it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mariasont · 1 day ago

Note

That anon was living under a rock because your smut fics (all of your fics tbh!) I reread wayyy to many times, lol. But if you’re taking smut requests, I’d love to see more bimbo!reader and Hotch! I can’t get enough.

I’ll take anything!! But more specifically, their first time, all of that built up tension (that you write so perfectly!) finally breaks!

Anyways, I never send in requests but I saw a window of opportunity and had to take it, haha.

Third Date Rule - A.H

summary: the third date proves to be worth the wait when you and hotch experience your first time together. pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader warnings: 18+ MDNI, sexy time, fingering, oral fem receiving, p in v, they did not in fact wrap it before tapping it and it's not really discussed so yeah idk about that one, aftercare wc: 7.7k

This was so overdue.

Technically, it's only been three dates. Technically.

But if you count all the years you'd known him, the months spent daydreaming about this moment, the weeks of waiting while he played the world's longest game of restraint, then really, you should have had him naked ages ago.

And if Aaron (which still feels like a thrill to say — Aaron — because you're dating now and you can freely call him that) wasn't so stubborn and noble and insufferably gentlemanly, you would have.

But tonight was finally the night. The third date. The sacred, hallowed, much-debated, universally accepted gateway to getting into the sheets. And yes, okay, maybe you barely survived the wait without jumping his bones, but that's hardly relevant now. The point is, you did it.

And now you're in his lap, his tie wound tight around your fingers, his tongue deep in your mouth, and gods, if this night didn't end with him inside you, you might actually die.

Like, literally. Heart failure. Sudden death.

This was premeditated. At least, for you. You moisturized like your life depended on it, doused yourself in perfume that could be classified as a controlled substance, and selected a bra that made your tits look so insane, it might actually be illegal in some states.

And then you spent an embarrassing amount of time picking the perfect dress that says oh, I'm classy, but also please take me home and rip this off with your teeth.

You pull away, just enough to see him. To take in the slow bloom of pink trailing from his cheeks to the tips of his ears, the way his pupils are so wide they’ve all but erased the brown of his eyes. And his lips — swollen and red from kissing you — part like he was debating how bad it would be to drag you right back in. You wouldn’t mind.

“Aaron,” you sigh, fingers burying into his hair, marveling at how absurdly soft it is, how freely he lets you have this piece of him. “We should go to bed.”

For a second, he locks up. Not hesitation but calibration, a body processing desire so sharp it might break him. You feel it in the way his chest expands, in the quiet exhale through his nose.

"This wasn't my plan for the night," he murmurs, voice softer now, not strained, but steeped in something much gentler. Something careful. "I wasn't —," He shakes his head, like the whole concept doesn’t sit right in his mouth. "I don't want you to think this is just —,"

"Sex?"

You can see the way he wants to argue, like he wants to carve the word out of the air and replace it with something that means more.

"Yes."

You can’t stop the stupid, lovestruck smile pulling at your lips. Maybe it’s the wine from dinner finally working its magic. (It’s not.) Maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you, all serious and earnest, like you’re the only thing in existence, and if he blinks, you might vanish. (It definitely is.)

A laugh bubbles up, light and giddy, body not knowing what to do with all this adoration. You lean in, pressing a kiss to his jaw, just to see if he’ll let you. (He does.)

“Are you serious? If you just wanted sex, you wouldn’t have spent actual years pretending my very dedicated, very expertly executed attempts to seduce you weren’t happening.”

His brow arches, but you see it for what it is — a stall. “Expertly, huh?”

"Remember that heatwave last summer? When I just had to eat a popsicle at my desk every afternoon?"

His eyes darken like the memory is playing in high definition behind his eyes.

"I remember."

"Do you?" Your fingers slip beneath his color. “Because —” You tilt your head. “I always seemed to finish them standing in front of your office —"

You don't even get to finish your sentence.

One second, you’re speaking, the next, you’re airborne. Lifted clean off the couch, legs locking around his waist automatically, arms thrown around his shoulders like you planned this all along.

You didn’t, but you wish you had.

Not that it matters, because he’s already moving, already walking straight to the bedroom.

You bury your smile against his jaw, letting your breath tickle against the shell of his ear as another giggle slips out. It couldn’t be helped.

"I really hope you know," you whisper, “that I am, like, stupidly excited for this. Like, counting down the days excited.”

Aaron sets you down on the mattress gently, but his body doesn’t follow right away, hovering over you.

"You're not making this easy for me."

You ignore him because you’re much more distracted by how insanely soft his sheets are. That was your first thought when your back hits the mattress, hair fanning across the pillows.

For a fleeting second, you wonder if he’ll catch the scent of your perfume tomorrow. If he’ll notice the ghost of you when he lays down alone.

Your second was that this is so not the time nor place to get emotional.

But this is his space. His bed. His room.

It’s tidy, but somehow not sterile, everything having its place, but not afraid to be used. A book sits on the nightstand, a book mark sticking out mid-thought. A photo frame faces the bed, though from this angle you struggle to see what’s inside.

There’s his suit jacket from yesterday, draped over the back of a chair, a little rumpled.

And maybe it's silly, but you feel weirdly honored to be here.

You should probably be processing this moment, what it means to be here, with him, like this. Instead, you take a second to admire the view.

The lamp softens the sharp lines of his face, making him look almost gentle — which is funny, considering how you hoped to be thoroughly destroyed by him.

Something expands inside you, stretching against the walls of your chest, something too big, something that terrifies you.

So you do what you do best. You deflect.

“I can’t believe I’m about to sleep with my boss.”

He doesn’t even try to hide his exasperation, his forehead dropping into the crook of your neck. “Sweetheart—,”

"What?" You giggle, letting your fingers slide through his hair, letting your nails rake lightly over his scalp. "It's true."

His sigh is nothing short of pained, but then he kisses your cheek anyway, then your jaw, then the corner of your mouth. You were starting to feel like each was a thinly veiled attempt to tame you.

"Please don't phrase it like that."

"Yes, Mr. Hotchner."

Every self-satisfied thought evaporates the moment he kisses you – really kisses you.

It’s not just a meeting of lips but a focused intensity, tongue sweeping inside your mouth and suddenly nothing before this mattered, because clearly, clearly, every kiss you’ve ever had was just practice for this one.

Your body responds before your mind can catch up, spine arching and he doesn’t stop you, just kisses you with a hunger that makes teasing obsolete, that makes breathing secondary to the way he’s taking from you, giving to you, all at once.

His lips wander, dragging across your jaw like he’s leaving invisible ink behind, pressing something permanent into your skin.

You hope you’ll wake up tomorrow and still feel him there.

Your hands move to the nape of his neck, drawn by craving, by the need circling inside you like a ribbon of fire.

It stretches outward, licking at your skin, threading through your veins. His hands hold you still, spanning over your rib. His breath fans over your pulse, and you swear he can feel how fast it’s racing.

You should be gloating right now. This is, after all, exactly what you wanted, what you worked for. A biting remark sits on the top of your tongue, but then his mouth moves, and he finds it.

That wicked, traitorous little dip beneath your jaw that turns your entire brain into pink, glittering static. He pauses, listening, feeling, before sealing his mouth over it again, tongue dragging over the sensitive skin like he’s testing a theory that he already knows the answer to.

Your fingers clench in his hair, a startled sound choking in your throat before you can stop it. And then, the bastard laughs. Not sweet, not kind, but low and sharp and smug because he knows exactly what he’s done.

You had the upper hand. Past tense.

"There it is," he murmurs, pressing another kiss there, his tongue flattening over it just to make you squirm. "You want to know how I figured this out?"

You hum, or try to. But it’s pathetic because you’re barely conscious, every cell fried to uselessness by his mouth.

He mimics you, just to be an ass about it, mocking the dazed little sound like he hasn’t just reduced you to it. "You always reached for it when I looked at you too long."

Your mouth opens. Closes.

"Or," he continues, "when I stood too close to you at the coffee machine. You'd fidget, tuck your hair behind your ear like you weren't thinking about it." His exhale burns against your pulse. "Cute."

You gasp, a little offended, mostly turned on. "Oh, wow. Profiling me? At work? That's, like, wildly unethical."

"Didn't need to," he murmurs. "You were practically begging me to figure you out."

His mouth is perfect in the way lightning is perfect – striking, searing, and completely out of your control. It’s perfect enough that you can pretend not to hear him.

He sucks, slow and hard enough to tear a sound from your lips before you even know it’s there, something that feels like vulnerability in its purest form. Something you would never willingly give him.

His laugh is quiet, wrecking, as he pulls back, lips slick with your skin. "That good?"

His mouth makes quick work, over your collarbone, down, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses, down, branding every inch of skin he can reach.

He stops at the neckline of your dress, and suddenly, you can't think about anything except how it's still on.

You want to strip it off, want to offer yourself up as a willing sacrifice, but you’re well aware that if you try, if you even reach, he’ll stop you. Or worse, he'll make you wait. He'll slow you down, draw it out just to watch you squirm because patience is his weapon of choice, because he lives for making you suffer.

His teeth graze the swell of your breast, just enough to sting, and whatever fragile grip you had on yourself disintegrates on impact. Your hands fumble blindly for his face, fingers shaking, needing to see his eyes.

"Please, Aaron.” It’s an exhale, a prayer. “Need you."

You see the ripple of tension along his throat. And for one tiny, blinding second you think this is when he finally snaps, abandons his tolerance and just takes you.

"You don't know how long I've wanted you like this," he rumbles. "I'm going to take my time."

You whine, frustration bleeding from your fingertips where they clutch his shoulders, fingers digging in like you can physically push him into moving faster.

He does not move faster.

His hands slide up to the straps of your dress, as he drags it down with all the urgency of a leisurely Sunday stroll.

Your mind is halfway through an exceptionally justified complaint about how slow he is moving when he folds the dress.

Folds it.

Sets it aside. Doesn't toss it.

And that may be the hottest thing he's ever done.

Because you know he knows. He’s always known. Known that your things aren’t just things — that your dresses, your heels, your overpriced lip glosses aren’t frivolous, aren’t some shallow indulgence, but tiny, curated pieces of you.

He has listened to you decide between two pairs of shoes that are, for all intent and purposes, identical. He knows jasmine is mysterious and vanilla is flirty, knows that you’ll debate your right to own the same three shades of pink.

And instead of dismissing it, instead of rolling his eyes (though he does that too), he folds your dress. As if it matters.

You stare at him, somewhere between melting and spontaneous combustion, and he simply raises a brow. “Something wrong?”

"No." You shake your head for emphasis, voice a little too weak to get the point across. "Just thinking I might have to marry you."

His hands settle at your waist, fingers tracing over the pink lace like he’s trying to process it, like if he touches it enough times, it’ll confirm that this is actually happening and not some cruel illusion. His thumb brushes the scalloped edge, breathing shallow. You were pretty sure he’s currently having a full-scale existential meltdown over lingerie.

"Agreed," he murmurs, distracted, hooded eyes still glued to your chest. "I think the courthouse opens at eight."

Your giggle stutters, hiccups right out of you, because his hands are suddenly everywhere, roaming with no clear plan, just a man in crisis over how much of you he wants to touch first. His palms skate over your stomach, down your thighs, up over your breasts.

"So, this is all I had to do to convince you to do what I want?"

His mouth follows, retracting the path of his hands, rewriting, reworking, perfecting – because apparently, the first time wasn’t good enough, wasn’t thorough enough.

"You think this is what did it for me?" His voice is hushed. "You could've walked into my office six months ago and told me to get on one knee.” A kiss, open-mouthed, starving, just below your navel. “I would've done it."

Six months ago. You don't know if you believed that.

Except now you're spiraling, backtracking, rewinding, piecing together little details like some lovesick conspiracy theorist with red string and a bulletin board. Every interaction, every loaded glance, every time he let you get away with high-level flirtation without so much as a blink. You thought you were testing him, but what if he was never fighting at all?

And before you can even recover from that, before you can file an official grievance about why no one told you sooner, his hands squeeze at your thighs, his mouth so close to exactly where you need him, and his voice —

"You're so beautiful."

His nose presses into the damp center of your panties, and your hands fly to his hair so fast it’s practically reflex, breath stalling in your chest like your body forgot how to function for a second.

This is everything. What you've wanted, dreamed of, written in the margins of notebooks (hypothetically, of course).

It should be perfect, but suddenly, it isn't.

Uncertainty slips between the cracks, heat turning into something less solid. You don’t have time to find it, to name it, because he’s already there, already sensing it, already fixing it before you even know what’s wrong.

"Hey." His voice hooks into you, gently reeling you back from wherever your brain was about to go. "We don't have to do anything you're not ready for."

"No, I—," The words come out far too fast and desperate, and you can't decipher why it's so hard to say. "I do want to. Obviously." The nervous laugh that follows is definitely not your usual flirty confidence. "Have you met yourself? Because if you haven't, I would love to introduce you. Tall, devastatingly handsome — you'd love him."

His move curves, but his eyes stay patient and focused, giving you a second to breathe.

"It's just..." Another pause, another frustrated sigh. "I haven't been with anyone in a while."

"That's okay, we can take it slow." He moves so that he's hovering above you again, brushing a strand of hair out of your face, his smile just amused enough to leave you flustered. "How long?"

"May."

"May?"

"Yeah, like, May. Three years ago."

Aaron just stares at you, processing. You can see the gears turning, the little mental loading wheel spinning, his expression caught between stunned and deeply interested.

His fingers creep up, sliding under your ribs, just close enough to the heavy swell of your tits to remind you exactly where you are. What he was doing to you before you so rudely derailed this into actual conversation.

"Really?"

You pinch his arm. "Hey! That is not an absurd amount of time."

"No. I know. I didn’t say that," he says quickly. "I'm just... surprised."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

His lips part and he immediately shakes his head, exhaling like he's physically trying to dispel what just ran through your mind, knowing exactly where your thoughts were.

"I just mean — I don't know how every man you meet doesn't immediately worship the ground you walk on."

"Oh, well, they do." You smile. "But I was only ever planning on letting one of them take me to bed."

You reach for his dress shirt buttons, tugging insistently, but your hands refuse to cooperate, not properly communicating with your brain.

It's his fault, you decide.

He looks too good, and it was extremely hard to focus on anything but that.

You have no idea how you survived dinner. Or the car ride home. Or even the eternity it took to get past the door, because that was definitely a struggle considering your mouth was all over his, tasting the whiskey he’d barely touched, before he could even get the key in the lock.

You spent all night picturing this, the way his hands would feel in you, the way his mouth would taste, the way his suit would look crumpled on the floor.

Which, in hindsight, probably meant you were a pretty terrible dinner guest. Nodding, smiling, pretending to listen, all while barely holding back the need to ride him in public.

Aaron laughs, clearly entertained by your struggle, and then, because he’s nothing if not arrogant, he starts undoing the buttons one-handed, to be a show-off.

It’s rude, really. Because now all you can do is watch, helpless as he peels himself open to reveal golden skin, dark hair dusting over firm pecs, trailing lower, disappearing beneath his belt.

Your manicured fingers glide over the broad expanse of his shoulders, pushing his shirt away like uncovering some lost Renaissance painting that scholars would kill to get their hands on — something that should be in a temperature-controlled glass case, not just here, sprawled above you like he belongs to you. Which, he does, because he’s just letting you do this, letting you look. And you look. He is art. No, better than art. Art is stationary, lifeless, some brushstroke interpretation of what beauty should be. But this, him, he is warmth and breath and muscle.

Museums wish they had something this valuable. They’d burn down in despair if they knew he existed just for you.

"May," he muses, letting the word roll off his tongue, turning it over in his mind. "That's an oddly specific answer."

You make a vague sound of agreement, mostly just to acknowledge that yes, technically, he did say words, but you’re too busy to actually care. Too busy with spreading your hands over the planes of his chest, with grabbing at his belt.

"You were hired in May three years ago."

Your hands freeze.

"That's... um weird." A slow blink. "Weird that you know that. Weirder that you noticed."

You work his belt loose, tugging it free. It’s meant to be a distraction, a well-placed touch to shift his focus from his revelation.

But then your plan backfires spectacularly because he’s hard, thick, unreasonably big and suddenly your fingers feel useless.

Aaron makes a sound — half a hiss, half a laugh — and his hands snap to your wrist, catching you before you can explore further, like he knew you were going to do that. "It’s okay, honey."

"I—I don't—," You blink up at him, floundering, desperately trying to sound casual. "That's, uh, I don't know what that's supposed to mean."

Aaron’s smirk deepens, his grip on you slackening just enough to trick you into thinking he’s going to be nice.

But then his other hand moves, slipping between your bodies, sliding beneath the heat trapped between your thighs, finding the neediest part of you, and pressing.

Your whole body jerks, a startled gasp catching in your throat as sensation flares — hot, sharp, mercilessly good.

His fingers start to move, rubbing tight circles against you. Your hands cling, one locked onto his bare shoulders, the other pressing against his dick, desperate to make him feel even a fraction of what he's doing to you.

It earns you a groan, low and gritty, hips twitching against your palm, his breath is hot against your lips, his mouth hovering just barely out of reach.

"I won't tease," he promises, but the way he bites at your bottom lip feels like a lie. His tongue is quick to follow, flicking over the welt he’s just left, soothing the burn before sealing it with a kiss, just this side of messy. “Three years… that’s a long time.” His lips skim yours again. “For both of us.”

A pleased sound bubbles up from your throat, slipping between his lips, that makes it obnoxiously clear just how much you love those words. That is a sentence you’d like embroidered on a pillow. Maybe cross-stitched into a nice, elegant frame for your future shared bedroom.

"Oh," you sigh, a smile stretching against his lips. "I really, really, like knowing that. That's, like, incredible news."

Your brows scrunch, and you pull back just an inch.

"Just to be clear, though, you do mean in a wow, you've ruined me for other women way, and not in a I've been to busy for a sex life way, right? Because those are two different things, and I need to know which one we're working with here—"

Aaron huffs a laugh and instead of answering with words, his hands slip into your panties, fingers finding your clit without prelude. Skin to skin now, no fabric, no flimsy barrier. Just touch.

His fingers dip lower, dragging through the slick, indecent in how easily he moves through the mess of you. He makes a noise — nearly a groan, mostly a hum of appreciation, of possession — before he spreads it, smearing your own arousal over your clit, rolling circles.

"Oh, wow, sweetheart."

Your thighs fall open like you have no say in it — because you don’t, because every instinct in you is reaching for him, needing it like a fix.

And maybe, maybe that should be embarrassing — the obvious, shameless way you seek him out — but it’s a gorgeous kind of humiliation, a flush that spreads lower.

"Well," you gasp, chest rising in stuttering little pants. "Y—you kept me waiting forever."

Aaron hushes you with a soft tsk, his fingers pressing, stroking, coaxing you into sweet, mindless submission. Every movement feels preordained, like he already knows your body, like he’s a man who’s spent years thinking about this.

"I know, sweetheart," he soothes, murmuring it against the fragile skin beneath your ear, punctuating it with a kiss. "But I think I'm making up for lost time pretty well."

"I guess," you manage. "Th—that's acceptable."

Aaron chuckles, the vibration traveling straight into your skin. His lips descend, an idolization thing, but it’s the kind of devotion that sets you on fire.

His hands spread over your thighs, parting them gently.

Your underwear drags down, slipping over your thighs, grazing the curve of your knees, and then off. And suddenly, there's nothing separating you from his eyes, from the way the air licks over you, cool against the sticky heat between your thighs.

His lips part like he wasn't expecting to fall apart so easily. Like he thought he'd have more time, more control. And the power in it, the sheer, intoxicating power of knowing he's just as affected as you are, that this is breaking him open, makes your skin fizz, burn, ache for him even more.

If someone had told you a year ago that Aaron Hotchner, mister all-business-all-the-time, would be between your legs, staring at you like he's never seen anything more perfect, you would have said something nonsensical. Something about fate. Or destiny.

And you would have been right. Because you always knew this was a definite.

"Oh, honey.... You're gorgeous," It's almost a whisper, like the words were dragged out of him against his will, stolen straight from his lungs the second his eyes landed on you. His gaze drinks you in, head tilting, lips parting, tongue skating over the swell of his bottom lip. “I knew you would be, but…”

A sharp, sizzling spark races up your spine, white-hot and unbearable, but when it should tip over into relief, it withers into frustration. The kind that makes your body revolt against the absence of touch. Your hips buck, thighs squeezing as if you can somehow force the friction you’re being deprived of.

"Give me a second, baby," he teases, caressing his nose along the inside of your thigh. "Just wanna look at you."

His mouth moves in decadent passes, open-mouthed kisses pressed into your inner thigh.

Another kiss. Then another. So close.

Then he detours. Veers off, pressing his lips into the dip of your hip instead, dragging his tongue along something that is not your clit.

"So perfect."

His fingers prod through your folds, parting you, fingertips wading through the slickness pooling at your entrance. The sound that spills from him is sinful.

All of your muscles coiling tight, every inch of you scorching with unmet need and just when you think you're going to have to beg him, just when the words start to form —

He gives in.

His tongue is there first, dragging a flat, broad stripe through your center, licking over every hypersensitive inch of you before looking up at you through hooded eyes. You swear you nearly come from the sight alone.

"Knew you'd be sweet."

Aaron doesn't waste another second, burying himself in you, mouth moving like he's been ravenous for this.

His grip is firm as he spreads you wider, keeping you at his mercy. His lips wrap around your clit for a split second before he moves again, tasing, licking, humming, lapping up everything you're giving him.

It's messy. Wet. Dripping. His mouth moves as he tries to wreck himself on you. Each second convincing you that he wouldn’t mind suffocating here if it meant another taste.

His nose nudges against you, the angle so cruelly perfect it sends another violent tremor through your body, legs jumping against his shoulders. Your fingers grasp blindly for purchase, gripping the sheets, tangling in his hair, at anything you can reach.

"That's it, sweetheart," he murmurs into you, words muffled by your pussy. "Let me hear you."

"Oh — " The sound falls from your lips, your eyes squeezing shut like you can block out the overwhelming pleasure if you just try hard enough. "Oh, that's — "

Your hips stutter, thighs tightening around his face.

Aaron chuckles darkly, and you feel it more than you hear it, the sound pulsing through your core.

You’re not sure you have a body anymore, not sure you exist outside of this moment. You’re just sensation, just trembling atoms held together only by his hands, his breath, his voice. There’s no past or future – just now, just him.

If this is what it means to transcend, to be unraveled and rewritten in the same breath, then let it consume you whole. You could die like this, and it would be the kindest death you could ever ask for.

A single finger ghosts over your entrance, teasing but never quite committing. He dips in, just the barest of intrusion, and you shudder, clenching around nothing because it’s gone just as fast.

He waits, just long enough to hear the next breathy fussing before finally spearing back in. Your eyes flutter shut, breath breaking apart in little puffs.

The sounds coming from your cunt should embarrass you, sticky, so shockingly loud that if your brain was working, you’d be mortified. But it’s not working. Not even a little.

His hand flattens over your stomach and suddenly the pressure doubles, triples.

"Tell me, baby," he murmurs, "feels good, doesn't it?"

"Yes, yes, oh my gods, Aaron, I—"

Your normal senses have left the building. Packed its bags, hit the road, abandoned you to whatever dark magic this is. Because this —this isn’t how your body works. This isn’t how guys work. You don’t come from this.

But here you are, hurtling toward it at full speed and all because he decided you would.

It’s happening too fast, the pressure stacking. Your thighs shake open, stomach clenching so hard it aches. Your mind is lagging behind, still reeling, still trying to rationalize but it doesn’t matter because your body has already made its choice, has already given in, has already decided this is happening, whether you’re ready for it or not.

"Aaron, I think—,"

Aaron just groans, finishing your sentence for you, lapping up your confession with his tongue,

"I know, baby." Hot air blows against your swollen clit. "Let me feel it."

It crashes over you, back bowing off the bed. Your body splinters apart, thighs trembling so hard you couldn’t stop them if you tried. The edges of your vision smear into nothing as the pleasure consumes everything in its path.

His mouth stays on you, tongue and fingers pushing you through the aftershocks until you’re clawing at the sheets, until that pleasure tilts so far into oversensitivity that makes you unaware if you’re pulling him closer or pushing him away.

Your limbs feel like liquid, consolidating into every inch of your body, melting into the mattress as Aaron moves to be face to face with you.

He's looking at you like he's the only thing keeping you tethered to this planet, and maybe he is, because when his lips get close enough, you tug him the rest of the way down, crashing your mouth into his in a way that's all sloppy desperation.

You can taste yourself on him, can feel the way he groans into it when you sigh against his mouth, all soft and dreamy and drunk on gratification.

When you pull back, your fingers card through his hair, fixing nothing but feeling everything.

"Oh my gosh," you gasp, dissolving into giggles, toes curling as you flop back against the pillows. "I knew you'd be good at that, obviously, but I wasn't expecting all that. Like wow, you should get a certificate of excellence or something."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you sigh dramatically, "Or like, a trophy, a raise, a sash that says best head giver in gold letters—," You pause for a breath, sucking in air like you just realized how winded you are.

"— and I mean, I've never come like that before. So. You should probably put that on your résumé."

When Aaron presses against you, you feel every inch of him. Thick and unfortunately still restrained. His slacks are a cruel barrier, the rough drag of the fabric catching your clit in a way that rips a whimper straight from your throat.

His teeth scrape along your jaw, then he's mouthing at your neck, sucking, teasing, marking you.

"Firstly," he murmurs. "I hate the idea of anyone else touching you."

An involuntary shiver rolls through you.

"And secondly," he continues, "the fact that they didn't even know how."

Your hands are frantic as they fly to his waistband, fumbling a bit, the last hindrance between you offensive in its existence.

"Well, yeah," you sigh, looking up at him through fluttering lashes, glossy lips parted just for him. "I mean, you're literally the only one who's ever known what to do with me. That has to mean something, right? Like, cosmic destiny or whatever."

Aaron shoves his pants and briefs off, barely sparing them a second thought, and then he's back, fitted between your thighs.

"You already know the answer to that." His lips brush your temple. "I'm the only one who knows how to handle you. And I plan on proving it."

"Yeah, okay," you say, squirming beneath him. "Not gonna argue when that sounds like the best idea ever."

You've seen a lot of versions of Aaron. You've seen work Aaron, serious and bossy, looking at crime scenes like he can hear the evidence whispering just to him. You've seen grumpy Aaron, glaring over his coffee when you talk too much at morning briefings (but you know he likes it, he just won't say). You've seen soft Aaron, the one who lets you steal his jacket even though you definitely don't need it.

But you've never seen this Aaron. This post-kissing-you Aaron. Lips slick, still damp with you, evidence of where he’s been, what he’s done.

His eyes flick to yours, and there’s no shame, no rush to wipe it away. If anything, he tilts his head, letting you see it from a better angle.

"You're so handsome, Aaron." Your voice trembles. You don't even know if you said it out loud or just thought it so hard he must have heard it anyway.

"And you,” he murmurs, tracing his thumb over your cheek, “are so damn sweet, honey."

You beam at that, overwhelmed, so unbelievably happy that your thoughts are practically spilling out faster than you can catch them.

"Okay so I just need to say — this is so exciting, like, you do realize I've had a crush on you for years, right? And now this is actually happening, and that's just — wow."

You suck in a sharp breath, nails dragging over the thick muscles of his arms, across his shoulders.

"I mean, it's us, Aaron. Can you believe that? Like, I feel like this has been building for so long and now I'm just — gods, you're so hot, this is actually distracting me. I can't even finish my own thought —,"

You laugh, because you already feel so full of him and he isn't even inside you yet.

"And I know you're being all careful and slow because you're sweet and romantic and, like, the most perfect man alive, but also —,"

You grind up, chasing friction, his cock sliding just right over your clit. Your breath stutters, hands fisting at the nape of his neck as you try to remember what you were saying.

" — I'm literally at your mercy right now, so you should probably take advantage of that before I —,"

"You talk so much, baby."

And then he shuts you up. Hard.

His mouth rams into yours, ingesting the comment, the breath, everything.

He doesn't rush.

The head of his cock nudges at your entrance before he finally, slowly, pushes inside.

It knocks the breath from your lungs. Your mouth parts against his, lips catching on his as a little sigh slips out. Your nails dig into his shoulders, helpless against the way he's opening you up.

He stills, a sharp, fractured inhale slicing through the air, fingers digging into your hips — hard. He is struggling. You can feel it. The way his cock twitches inside you, like his body is screaming at him to move.

"I-I'm good." Your laugh wobbles, catches at the edges, barely disguising how badly you want him to believe you. "You can keep going."

"You're tensing because it's been a while." You don't mean to, but your body reacts before your brain can tell it not to, stiffening. Stupid, stupid. His exhale is shaky, and his lips press against your cheek. "I know that. I expected that."

You swallow, but it doesn't help.

"I also know that you think if I notice, I'll stop." His forehead rests against yours. "But I need you to hear me, baby. I'm not stopping."

His lips graze yours.

"I'm going to work you through this. Just let me in, princess."

And the second you do, the second you finally give in —

He groans, pushing deeper, stretching you completely, filling you to the hilt.

"There we go," he breathes, wrecked with praise. His hand presses to your lower belly, feeling how deep he is, how well you take him. "That's my good girl."

Your head tilts back, lips parting, body doing the melty thing that feels really, really nice but also really, really dangerous because you swear you're seconds away from levitating straight out of your own skin.

"Okay, so I did think this would feel good —," Your fingers twitch against his chest, nails raking lightly over sweat-damp skin as another sharp moan tumbles free. "— but, um, wow, this is like — this is so —,"

Your words taper off, get lost somewhere between your psyche and your mouth, because oh. Oh, wow. He's so deep, so heavy inside you, pressing into places you didn't even know existed.

"Go on, baby," he murmurs, a smirk plastered across handsome features as he dips his head. "You were saying?"

"You know," you gasp, words all flimsy and loose, like they've been shaken up inside you, "I kinda always wondered how big you were —"

Your breath hooks halfway through, hiccups on a moan, brain scrambling to keep up with your mouth, your mouth scrambling to keep up with — him.

"Not that I, um — I stared at your pants or anything —" Another sharp inhale, another desperate moan, your walls fluctuating and squeezing around something too thick. "I mean, I try not to because I'm a professional —"

An involuntary clench makes him curse, makes his fingers dip into your hips, makes his head plunge forward hard against your shoulder.

"Honey, shit—,"

Your lashes flutter. "What?"

"Sweetheart, if you keep squeezing me like that while you ramble about my cock, I'm not going to last."

Your mouth clicks shut promptly.

"That's what I thought."

Hotch rocks his hips, just once, a sharp gasp fissuring from your lips like you weren't expecting it.

"Jesus, sweetheart. You're trembling." He cups your cheek, his thumb skimming over your bottom lip, eyes dark and aflame. "Does it feel that good?"

You nod, and he hums, dragging his cock almost all the way out before pushing back in.

His hand drags down your waist, spans over your belly, fingers pressing like he's charting the way he fits inside you.

"I used to tell myself I wouldn't do this," he admits. "That I wouldn't touch you. Wouldn't ruin you like this."

Your head lolls back, eyes fluttering, lips parted prettily, gasping as he rocks into you again, and again, and again. You shake your head, or at least, you think you do.

"You don't —" You try to shape words, but they liquefy on your tongue. "Don't ruin me, Aaron, you — oh, you make me —"

Hotch's throat bobs, his pupils blown.

"You make me so, so good, so soft, so perfect."

His hand cups your jaw. "You're already all of those things, sweetheart."

"Not before you," you sigh. "I've been waiting so long, Aaron, so, so long —"

"I know, baby," he groans. "I know."

His hand veers between your bodies, his fingers finding the swollen, neglected bundle of nerves.

“Aaron — oh, wait, wait, wait —,” Your hands shoot up to his shoulders. “I don’t know if I can, I mean, I can, but it’s just —,”

His cock throbs inside you, his rhythm stuttering for half a second before he finds it again, harder this time, his fingers matching the pace.

“Too much?”

“Yes, no, kind of? I don’t know, I can’t—,” You choke on your own breath as another thrust knocks every last rumination from your head. “I can’t think.”

“Good.” His forehead presses against yours, his lips parting against your mouth, panting, his control slipping. “I don’t want you thinking. Just feel me, sweetheart. Feel what I’m doing to you.”

Your body is shaking, shaking so hard that you don’t even know if you’re moving or if he’s just pushing you through it.

“I know, baby. But you can take it, can’t you?”

“Y-Yeah,” you stutter, body twitching.

“That’s my girl,” he praises, groaning as he grinds into you, stretching it. “One more, honey. You can give me one more.”

It hits you slowly, unwinding through your organs like smelted honey.

“Oh, oh —,” Your breath falters, mind going blank, the pleasure overwhelming every nerve in your body until you can’t do anything but let it consume you.

“Christ,” he groans, feeling you clench around him so tight it nearly undoes him.

You barely register the way you’re gasping, twitching, babbling out breathless little moans, vision blurring, and for a second you think you might black out.

“That’s it, princess,” he rasps, fucking you through it the reverberations. “So, so good for me.”

His pace turns shallow, sharp, chasing the tight, perfect squeezing of you still thrashing around him.

“You’re so tight, honey,” he grits, hands bruising your hips, your breath still catching from your own orgasm.

You’re too gone to respond, too wrung out to do anything but whimper as he takes you, using your body to pull himself over the edge.

He groans, low and deep, his fingers tangling in your hair, his mouth ghosting over your cheek as he finally breaks.

A shudder, a muttered curse, his body jerking, hips slamming into yours as he spills inside you.

He doesn’t mean to collapse, you know that, because even as his body gives out, his arms brace, still trying to be careful, even now. You want to cling to him, lock your legs around his waist, but you barely remember how to move, so you just let out a sleepy sound, nuzzling blindly at his throat.

He murmurs something low, something that sounds like praise, maybe worship.

His lips press to the side of your face, half-gone and still recovering, and then his muscles tense, trying to lift himself off you.

Your arms wind around his neck before he can get too far.

“Sweetheart,” he rasps, “I’m crushing you.”

“Don’t care,” you mumble, voice a little hoarse. “Feels nice.”

“You did so good.”

When he finally pulls out, you feel the loss and everything that comes with it, his release sticky and warm beneath your thighs.

Aaron disappears into the bathroom, and you barely have time to miss him before he’s back with a warm cloth in hand.

You giggle, squirming before he even touches you, already restless, and the second he presses the cloth to your inner thighs, you jerk, laughing helplessly.

“Oh, wait —,”

Aaron sighs, one hand pressing against your hip to keep you still. “Sweetheart. You have to let me clean you up”

“But it tickles—,”

He smirks and continues his work. “How do you feel?”

“Like I saw god actually,” you ramble, kicking your feet against the sheets. “Or, like, like, if I had to describe it, I’d say I transcended reality for a little bit —,”

Aaron just chuckles, pressing a kiss to your knee as he finishes cleaning you up. Each swipe reminds you that your legs might not be on speaking terms with you tomorrow.

When he’s done his mouth finds yours again. It’s easy to kiss him. If it were physically possible to stay attached to him, twenty-four hours a day, you’d gladly test the theory.

“Worth the wait,” he breathes into your mouth.

“Well, yeah,” you murmur, smirking up at him. “I figured it would be for you.”

He laughs.

“Yeah, baby, you were good,” he mutters, kissing right over your stuttering pulse. “You were so good.” Another kiss. “So good I’m already thinking about the next time.”

Your heart hasn’t even slowed down, and you’re already thinking about the next time. Already plotting, already ready to drag him back down and see just how quickly that next time could turn into right now. But before you can so much as tug at him — Aaron is rolling out of bed, pulling on his pants, disappearing into the kitchen.

You mean to protest, to demand why he left you alone in a post-bliss haze, but then he’s back, pressing a glass of water into your hand, watching you drink it like it’s his personal responsibility.

Then comes food, something light and something he feeds you between kisses, between lazy murmurs about nothing.

At some point, the blankets are back over you, his lips pressing against your forehead, his voice saying something about getting some sleep before you got any ideas, before pulling you against him.

You hum, content and drowsy, shifting a little, rolling over to get more comfortable —

And then your eyes land on that photo frame from earlier. You had a clear view of it now.

It was you.

It takes you a second to place it, but once you do, you almost laugh. You know this photo — because Garcia took it. She printed it out months ago, probably as some ridiculous gag, and stuck it to Aaron’s office wall with a bright sticky note that read your favorite obviously. You’d rolled your eyes at the time, called it workplace favoritism, but he’d never taken it down.

And now, somehow, it’s framed. On his nightstand, like he’s been looking at you every night for —

You don’t finish the thought.

Instead, you just smile, huge and uncontrollable.

He doesn’t say anything.

And you don’t need him to.

Because you already know.

💌 masterlist taglist has been disbanned! if you want to get updates about my writings follow and turn notifications on for my account strictly for reblogging my works! @mariasreblogs

#aaron hotchner x fem reader #aaron hotchner x bimbo assistant reader #aaron hotchner x bimbo reader #bimbo reader #aaron hotchner #hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader #aaron hotchner x bimbo!reader

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cosmosluckycharms · 3 days ago

Text

Bug like angel

You're here, that's the thing

You woke up the next day.

You were on the fancy velvet family couch you were never allowed on.

The couch was where every movie night, every game night, and every family hangout would happen.

The same ones you'd never be invited to.

You looked up to see Bruce and Miguel sitting in the pristine, white dining room arguing over something.

They lowkey looked like a divorced couple fighting over the ustody of their child.

You let out a giggle at that thought.

You got up and tried to stabilize yourself, still healing from the stab wound from yesterday.

You had a runny nose and a slight sore throat from the rain yesterday.

You hated your spidey luck sometimes.

As you got closer to Miguel and Bruce, you could make out some of their argument.

"She's staying with us, it's for the best," Bruce said, crossing his arms.

"Since when do you decide what's good for her?" Miguel argued, standing up from the seat he was sitting on.

"I am her father. I decide what's best for her," Bruce said, still keeping a straight face.

"you haven't been a father to her at all." Bruce flinched slightly at Miguel's words.

Miguel continued, "You were never her father. You were nothing but a sperm donor." Miguel put his hand on his hips, his bold red eyes piercing into Bruce's blue ones.

"When were you when she needed you? Where were you on her birthday? Where were you at her performances and concerts? You don't know anything about her." Miguel slammed the table in front of him, and Bruce's neutral facade faltered.

"I am still her father. we are blood." Bruce raised his voice.

"The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb."

Miguel and Bruce were now full-on arguing.

A full-on screaming match.

You decided to intervene, you just wanted to go home.

"What's going on?" They both couldn't hear you, and you saw Miguel about to flip the expensive dining room table.

You weren't against him breaking anything Bruce owned, but that table cost way more than Miguel could afford.

You ran up to him "Hold on a minute, please won't you listen?"

They both stopped to look at you.

Bruce spoke up "Are you doing better now, sweetie?" You cringed at the nickname he gave you.

"I'm fine. What's going on?"

There was a tense silence for a moment.

"C'mon, spit it out. I wanna go home." You put your hands on your hips, copying Miguel's stance

"You're going to stay with us," Bruce said, his piercing blue eyes glaring at Miguel.

"What?! You can't do that! Dad, tell him he can't do that!" you pulled on Miguel's sleeve like a tall child

Miguel looked and you and looked away guiltily.

"Dad? What's going on? Tell him he can't force me to stay!" You were tearing up.

You didn't want to stay.

You didn't want to be back where everything went wrong.

You didn't want to see everyone play happy family while you sat in a corner sobbing.

"I'm sorry, but you're 16 and can't legally stay with me. I'm so sorry, arañanita." you tried to suppress your tears, only for them to all spill out when he hugged you.

You felt like a child.

"This isn't fair." your lip slightly trembled.

Bruce put a hand on your shoulder which made you flinch and push his hand away.

"Don't touch me." you shrunk into Miguel's arm more.

You hated being here. You just wanted to go home.

"Can't we agree on something else? Like maybe one week each person, or something?" you tried to reason

Bruce raised an eyebrow "What do you mean?"

"I mean like, one week with with Miggy and another with you. Wouldn't that be easier?"

Miguel was about to agree with you when Bruce interrupted "No."

"Why not? Everyone would be happy!" You tried to reason

"Because I'm your father and that's final."

You rolled your eyes at that.

"What?! That's so not fair!"

"life isn't fair." Bruce started practically pushing Miguel out the door.

You started clinging onto Miguel by his leg, you didn't want him to leave.

It took your father and your brothers to separate you and Miguel.As soon as Miguel left, you

ignored your family's offerings to hang out with them.

You were in your room, still sulking about what happened.

You were texting your friends everything.

You heard a knock at the door and tried to ignore it.

You weren't in the mood to talk to any of them.

After a couple of minutes of knocking, Bruce got impatient and let himself in."Why didn't you open the door?"

"I didn't feel like getting up." You kept texting your friends, not even looking at him.

He took a seat on the edge of your bed. "Look, since you're already here, why not go out? We could go to that one, uh, museum you wanted to go to a while ago." You glared at him.

"I asked to go there years ago. My friends already took me there."

"Oh, is there any other place you'd like to go? or anything you'd like to do?"

"I want you to go away. I'm sick and you just pulled me away from my friends." You kept scrolling on your phone

Bruce sighed and left your room.

Next to annoy you was Dick.

You were in the kitchen trying to get a snack when you heard his agitating, grating voice.

"Hey, baby bird!" He was going to ruffle your hair, but you swiftly avoided it due to your spidey senses.

"Don't call me that." You continued to look for your favorite snack.

"Why not?" he playfully pouted

You started giving up hope on finding the snack, it wasn't anywhere! "Because I said so."

He saw you were struggling to find something. "What are you looking for?"

"Nunya." you crossed your arms and started looking in the fridge.

"look, if you're hungry, we can go to that one restaurant you wanted to go to! How does that sound?" he smiled.

"I asked for that years ago. I already went there with Miguel anyway." You walked away into your room not caring how dick was slightly frowning.

You were in your room fixing your belongings.

If you're going to be forced to live here up till you're 18, you might as well make everything look nice.

While you were organizing your closet, your spidey senses went off.

You turned around to see it was warning you about the door, and suddenly Jason barged in.

"Get ready, I'm gonna teach you how to ride a motorcycle."

"No thanks, Jess already taught me." You continued to fold the clothes

"Who's Jess?" Jason raised an eyebrow

"A friend. Look, can you just leave me alone? I want some alone time."

"I'm your older brother, you can't kick me out of your room." He crossed his arms.

"Except I can. Get out." You started pushing him out of your room, your strength surprising him.

Tim was in his room when he remembered about that one time you asked him if he could fix your computer.

You accidentally gave it a virus downloading Sims mods, and it was tweaking.

Tim was the most tech-savvy person you knew, so you asked him.

Unfortunately for you, he was working on a tiring case.

He was in a bad mood and half-asleep, so it wasn't a surprise when he yelled at you to go away.

Sure, it had been 2 years since then, but he still felt bad.

He made his way to your room, noticing how separated it was from the others.

When he got to your room and opened your door (you seriously need to get a lock) he saw you were face timing one of your friends and laughing.

He cleared his throat and your smile fell.

"I'll call you back later, bye Pavi!" you hung up and looked at Tim "What do you want?"

He smirked "Wow, so hostile. Do you still need me to fix your computer? I have time now.

"You rolled your eyes. "it's fine now, peni fixed it for me."

"Are you sure? I could probably add an upgrade or two, or maybe get you a new one?" He put his hand on his neck

"Yes I'm sure, you can leave now." You shooed him away with your hands and started calling Pavitr again.

Tim scoffed and walked away.

Last but not least, Damian.

He was always a headache.

Ever since you were younger, it's like he was out to get you.

He wouldn't ignore you or push you away like the others, instead, he would threaten and berate you.

No matter how much you tried, he'd always go out of his way to push you around.

You learned to stay out of his way.

You assumed he would still hate you, so you continued to avoid him.

It was surprising when he walked up to your room and demanded you to watch him train.

Not wanting to get stabbed by him, you begrudgingly agreed.

You were being escorted into the training room and saw a chance to practice your moves.

While he wasn't looking, you snuck away to practice your tricks.

It was the perfect place to do it as well, huge gymnastics area, rock climbing walls, and hurdles.

You were having the time of your life!

After around 10 minutes you noticed Damian looking for you, with Dick helping him.

You sighed and continued practicing.

Your way of swinging and moving was Heavily inspired by Gwen and Pavitr's, all the spider kids trained together so it wasn't much of a surprise.

After training for a couple more minutes, you noticed Dick and Damian had found you.

Dick was surprised you knew how to be that flexible and have a lot of movement and personality in your tricks.

As soon as you sat down to take a water break, Dick and Damian ran up to you.

"Where did you learn how to move like that? did you do gymnastics?" Dick sat down next to you, only for you to scoot away.

"No. I learned from Pavi." You took another sip of your water

"Was he the one who came to the manor last year? The punk?" He took a sip of his water

"No, that's Hobie." you got up and walked away, ignoring Dicks other questions.

Dick just sighed in defeat and watched as Damian ran after you.

Damian would not leave you alone.

The whole way to your room, he was complaining and berating you.You tried slamming your door in his face, but he fought back.

Suddenly you were trying to push him out of your room like the others and he pushed a bag of yours onto the floor.

After a couple of minutes of you both tumbling around, he finally left.

You let out a sigh of relief and went to pick up the bag.

Once you picked it up you noticed it felt a slight bit heavier, less empty.

You grabbed what was making it so heavy and noticed it was a watch.

The watch you needed to move universes.

Miguel must've snuck it in there while dropping you off.

You put it on, and right as you were about to go back to Miguel's universe, your spidey senses went off yet again.

You quickly turned off the watch and pretended you were playing on your phone again.

This time it was Alfred.

You assumed he was going to scold you for fighting Damian yet again.

You prepared yourself only to be met with something you didn't expect.

"The others are expecting your presence in the theater room."

Movie nights.

The same movie nights you longed to be a part of years ago.

This time, you didn't want to be part of it.

"No thanks, I'm busy." You continued to scroll on your phone.

"You must've misheard me. They're requiring your presence." Alfred walked away before you could argue.

You sighed and put on some slippers.

This was gonna be a long two years.

hi ik rhis chapter is sloppy and rushes BUT THIS TIME I ACTUALLY HAVE EN EXCUSE

i typed all od this at a wedding lmfao

yeah rheyre mareying the love of their life but im updating a fic so whos really winning

anyway

taglist(please lmk if i forgot you!): @bath1lda @mariadvorak @coralaura @tsxukikami @hjgdhghoe @coffeeaddictxd @cxcilla @kaitense1 @star-girl-interlud3 @sukaretto-n @welpthisisboring @itsberrydreemurstuff @lovebug-apple @crazycaoticsimp @bellethesleepypotato @blackhood1229 @jsprien213 @sirenetheblogger @awawage @holybatflapexpert @vanessa-boo @ryuushou @whiskeygirl7 @seemeee3 @inojinieeee @oliviaewl @djpuppy-kittens @w31rd3rg1rl @br33zy-blizzardz @eyeless-kun @strangelymid @twismare @cat-lover-over-9000 @jaemindontberude @galaxypurplerose @paastaboi @senhoritaapple @whiskeygirl7 @chezze-its

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chaosartic · 3 days ago

Text

Throw away the caution! | LN4

word count: roughly 2k

warnings: overprotective brother Max Fewtrell, mutual pinning (a bit), Oscar is confused most of the time, bad writing (yes it requires a warning)

summary: Lando (annoyingly) has a crush on non other than his best friends younger sister, Y/n Fewtrell. It was his well kept secret. Why? Because he knows how overprotective Max is of you. What happens when Carlos and Oscar find out about it? Will a drunken night out celebrating a race weekend change their relationship?

a/n: Originally this was supposed to be a one shot but I’m turning this into a mini series. They’re probably going to be three parts. Please note that english is not my first language, I’m sorry for any mistakes in advance.

Lando and Max have been through a lot together as long as both of them can remember. And for just as long Lando has known y/n, Max slightly younger sister. What started as a harmless friendship slowly turned into something more, at least in Landos eyes.

It wasn’t until he was a teenager that he admitted his feelings to himself. He kept them hidden and a secret from everyone. At first he thought that they’re just temporary. The girl he used to climb trees with and joke around for hours grew into a beautiful young lady after all. But the feelings only grew stronger.

Lando was well into his twenties when he talked to someone about his crush, it was no other than his friend and ex teammate, Carlos Sainz. At first he tried to talk Lando into admitting his feelings to you but that was without success. Carlos tried to figure out if the feelings are both sided but he simply didn’t see the Fewtrell siblings enough for that.

He was the silent emotional support through everything after that, trying to get them together alone as much as possible without Max noticing. After all, Carlos didn't know how he would react to the news of his childhood friend loving his younger sister. There were a few close calls in the past but as far as anyone was concerned neither Max nor y/n knew about Landos feelings.

If anyone would ask him why he doesn’t confess his answer would probably be along the lines of wanting to concentrate on his career first. In truth he was scared of your rejection and your brother's disappointment. He and Max are friends after all and it might feel like some sort of betrayal to the older Brit.

Lando was currently in London since he had to be back at the MTC for his pre-season training and meetings. He loved being in his home country even if that meant that winter break was over. It means that he gets to spend time with his friends. Like this evening for example.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You hate being late. It wasn't even your fault that a meeting with your boss ran over the scheduled time or that traffic today was worse than the past few days. You were meeting up with your brother, childhood friend and his teammate. And while Max assured you that your late arrival wouldn’t be a problem, anxiety and guilt still washed over you. You navigate your car without a problem down the familiar street to your brother's appartement. The night was cold but with a clear sky, a rare occurrence.

“You know you don’t have to get me anything when you come around.” Max greets you at the door as soon as he sees the flowers clutched in your hand. “Yeah yeah” you wave him off. The apartment was quiet, too quiet for the normal chaos that erupts when Lando and Max are together.

Max notices your confusion. “They got caught up with work stuff too. That’s why I told you not to worry.” He grabs the flowers ready to put them into an improvised vase while adding, “they should be here any minute though.”

“You could’ve added that little detail in your sentence,” you sternly joke with him. He pulls you into his arms mumbling something about next time he will. You missed this, the familiar feeling of being in your brother's arms. Work has been hell for you recently and you didn't get to spend much time with your family or friends. That’s why you didn't think twice about coming around tonight to spend a relaxing evening with your brother and an old friend of yours, Lando.

Before you could do anything else the doorbell rang, announcing the arrival of the McLaren drivers. “I’ve got it,” you said to Max before walking towards the door. When you opened it, you were a bit surprised when you saw only Oscar standing there. “Hey Oscar. Where is Lando?” you ask him after you let him into the flat. “Oh, he’s still parking the car or something,” Oscar said, “he’ll be here shortly.” You nodded your head at his explanation, softly closing the door behind him. You didn’t lock it though so Lando could get in easier.

Max came out of the kitchen to greet Oscar. While the two aren’t that close they still get along well, spending their evenings occasionally in bigger groups together. The Aussi was quickly accepted into the little group of you three after he joined Lando as his new teammate two years ago. You went back into the kitchen grabbing drinks for everyone while the boys already chatted about racing. The table was set, the ordered food waiting on the counter. There is only one thing missing now.

You still had a slightly anxious feeling that you couldn't shake off. Maybe it was because you would spend the evening in such close proximity to Lando. You haven’t said it to anyone out loud but you knew what the butterflies in your stomach meant. While you didn’t want to admit it to yourself just yet, you couldn’t hide it anymore. You were crushing hard and of course that person has to be your brother’s best friend.

“Hey mate”, Landos voice rans out through the apartment. He came into the kitchen with a wide smile, dimples showing on full display. He quickly pulled each of you into his arms as a greeting. His arms lingered around you for a bit longer, both of you silently enjoying the feeling. “Come on guys, the food is still warm.” Max called out while putting the boxes in the middle of the table. His voice was a bit rougher than usual, almost like he was hiding his emotions. You didn't notice it nor did Lando. Oscar however did notice it and for a millisecond a confused look crossed his face. It was gone before anyone could really notice it.

The four of you sat down at the table, a comfortable silence washing over the room. You sit next to your brother across from Lando. You noticed him looking at you a few times out of the corner of your eye. The butterflies in your stomach were running wild, but you hoped that it didn’t show. As much as you like the idea of being together with the Brit, you knew that it wouldn’t be a good idea. Not only because of his career but also because of your brother. You and Max were close and you know his overprotective sides when it comes to the topic of boys being around you. He was always a bit worried about them, maybe given the fact that he raced professionally. It didn't help that you know most of the formula one grid. He was scared of someone using you for your connections, he would not mention this fear though.

You aren't sure how Max would react to the news of you crushing on his best friend nor did you want to find out anytime soon. You talked about everything over dinner; racing, the upcoming season, video games and just what everybody did during the break. You remembered about a year ago when you were all sitting at the same table. Oscar was still new to the group and quite shy, but he opened up which was good to see.

“All right, how about we talk about something different than just racing,” you said. “Not everybody’s life depends on it.” You jokingly added, knowing that the boys love nothing more than to talk about it, especially when they were off for a few weeks. At some point the conversation shifts, now the talk was all about. testing and the upcoming season. “I have a question guys,” Lando suddenly said. His cheeks are a bit pink, unusually so. Your eyes looked over to Oscar slightly, he looked just as confused as you felt. It almost seems like Lando was shy about something perhaps not knowing what to do with the situation. “Do you have anything planned during the weekend when the season starts?” He finally blurted out after a longer pause.

“Not that I could think of,” you replied, looking at your brother. He also shook his head no. “Why do you ask?” “How about you come to watch it?” It was actually Oscar who voiced the question, his eyes always flickering up to you. It was almost like he was saving Lando from something, maybe embarrassment. “For sure,” Max answered quickly, not having to really think about it. The three men turn their heads to you waiting for your answer. “I’m not sure if I can get time off,” you said. “And also don’t exactly have the money for this trip.” You said shyly.

“Sweetheart, do you really think you have to pay?” Lando asked. You look at him shocked, did he really just say that? “I got it covered. Don’t worry about that.” He added quickly. Maybe it was your imagination, but he looked a bit embarrassed about saying it. Max looked at his best friend, confusion all over his features, shaking his head as if he was having a silent conversation with himself.

“Please y/n, it would mean the world for both of us,” Lando added, pointing at him and Oscar. He was almost begging at this point. You didn’t know why it was so important for him to have you there. A small part if you wanted to believe that it is because he also had a crush on you. But honestly those were unrealistic expectations. No, Lando could never have a crush on you. That’s for sure.

“Okay okay,” you gave in with a small smile. “I’ll see if I can get a few days off so I can join you in Australia,”you said. You see from the corner of your eyes that your brother has a sour look on his face again. An uneasy feeling settles in your stomach. ”Well, I don’t know about you guys, but I’m done.“ You try to ignore the look on Maxs face by changing the topic.You took both plates and put them into the dishwasher. You miss the way Oscar looks at both Max and Lando. Ever since this conversation started he has had a slightly confused look on his face, not that you noticed.

It was only a few days after that night when your request for the time off was accepted. That night you spend an hour or maybe two on FaceTime with Lando. He was back in Monaco preparing for the testing in Bahrain. It may have been a few days since that call but you can still see the way he smiled when you shared the news. It was one of the best things ever.

You already talked with Max about when you were leaving to Down Under. While you were more than excited to be in the paddock, see the race and talk to some of the drivers that you know, you couldn’t shake off this weird feeling in the pit of your stomach. It felt like this little trip would change everything but you weren’t sure why. Maybe it was because recently you and Lando have talked almost every night, intensifying your crush on the curly haired man. And even though you were nervous you couldn’t wait to see him in person again in Australia.

part 2 (coming soon)

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

I hope you enjoy it! Any feedback is appreciated!

Requests are open! Want to be added to the taglist? Feel free to reach out.

#f1 #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #writing #lando norris x reader #lando norris fluff #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris #oscar piastri #max fewtrell

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neigepomme · 1 day ago

Text

˙ ✩°˖ ☃️ soft patience / zayne x reader

synopsis; zayne's the bestest boyfriend in the world when you're going through cramps — even though some misunderstanding led some tears to shed.

🍎 pomme's notes - psst! my asks are open! taking some quick requests :D i'm in a writing mood!!!!

⋆ 500 words / fluff / reader is afab (mentions of periods!) / 2nd person / super self-indulgent :3c

i think zayne would be so very patient during your periods. of course, there's the whole doctor thing, and while he is your physician, he is first and foremost your boyfriend.

that man's got the patience of a saint. if you ever blow up on him because of the cramps and the nagging, he stays quiet and steps out, and you're just left wondering if that was his last straw (spoiler alert — never. you're as stuck with him as he is with you).

you're left stunned. how could he just walk away like that? you're just having a hard time. you didn't mean to drive him away — you care about him so deeply, but god, does your head hurt, and your stomach has been aching so so badly.

when the initial shock dissipates, and you start feeling the tears welling in your eyes, the door to your shared apartment opens again, and zayne walks in with a bag of takeout from your favorite place and chocolates.

when he catches a glimpse of your teary eyes, his eyes widen in return, and he puts down the bags to focus on you, worried if your cramps were more painful than usual.

"are you okay love?", he says softer than usual, as if to not disturb you.

"i- i thought you had-" you stammer in between deep breaths, trying hard not to start crying, "i thought you'd had enough, zayne."

he tries to speak but you interrupt him again;

"i know i'm a pain right now but i can't help it, i'm — i didn't mean to be rude to you" a sob softly escapes you, "i know you care about me, but everything is just too much all at once now but please, don't leave me zayne, i'm so sorry."

his hands cup your face delicately slightly shifting your head up to see your face. his thumbs wipe away the tears now freefalling from your eyes, and he gives you an understanding smile.

"why would i leave you?", he hums a bit before speaking again, "i thought i'd let you breathe a bit and get some food for you. i know i was being overbearing, and forgive me for it, my love."

shaking your head, you profusely apologize in return and he laughs a bit.

"we look silly apologizing to each other this hard, don't we?" and that finally brings a smile to your face, managing to pull a breathy laugh out of you.

and in hindsight, maybe thinking that zayne;

the man who hides you away from jumpscares in the horror movies you insist on watching,

the man who texts you daily, checking if you ate,

the man who drops by your house just to give you a hug when you've had a hard day,

the man who would do anything to see you smile,

would leave you after an emotional outburst in one of your most vulnerable moments was a bit dramatic.

yeah. zayne would love you through it all. he's got the patience of a saint, doesn't he?

#⋆ pomme writes #zayne x reader #zayne x you #zayne #lads zayne #lads x reader #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #i think all of us deserve our very own zayne honestly

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kurokawaia · 22 hours ago

Text

ATTITUDE!! 彡 Bakugou, Shoto, Dabi, Hawks

| MDNI - 18+ | WARNINGS :: bakugou x fem!reader, hawks x fem!reader, dabi x fem!reader, x fem!reader, shoto x fem!reader, second pov, suggestive content, nsfw themes, implied smut/nsfw, no actual naughty acts, pet names used: babe, baby, sweetheart, dear, my love + more? MINI ONESHOTS. total wc :: 1.5k

⋆·˚ ༘ *REQUEST :: Could you maybe write a headcannon where reader says can you please shut the fuck up to them ? It can be more nsfw suggestive like. Like dabi finds it kinda hot and katsuki is kinda pissed but more in a amusing way. Could you do it pls for hawks,dabi,katsuki and maybe shoto? - @carokitten

DABI

Yeah good luck with you saying that actually making an impact because, surprise surprise, it is not going to work, if anything that just turns him on. "Don’t pretend you don’t like it when I—" You didn't even know what Dabi was rambling about while you were trying to concentrate on your task.

"Can you please shut the fuck up?" you snap, the words just slipped out before you could register even saying them. Immediately after you bit your bottom lip, mentally cursing yourself because you know your mans a freak, it probably gets him going.

Dabi stops abruptly after hearing your outburst and rests his hand on his palm, his elbow balanced on the table right beside you. A smirk rises on his lips as he nudges your shoulder. "Damn, babe. That's kinda hot," he chuckles before slyly slinging his arm around your shoulder, his hand moving your chin towards his face as you were looking away. With a swift movement, you are know dangerously close to his face, only a mere inch away, the pad of his thumb playing with your bottom lip teasingly, watching your face turn red. "Say it again," he teases, moving closer until his lips will graze your own, until your heart is pounding so loud you can't process any thoughts, licking his lips like he’s about to devour you whole.

You roll your eyes. "I swear to god, Dabi—"

He leans over you, almost causing you to fall of the chair, Dabi's lips press against yours and a haste movement of his tongue slipping past before you could even register until he pulls away. Swear all you want, babe, I’ll make you beg me to keep talking, to help you through it..." he murmurs slowly and your cheeks flare up knowing he was referring to something other that yapping your ear of.

HAWKS

Hawks has been teasing you for the past ten minutes, throwing in suggestive comments every chance he gets. He’s clearly enjoying the way your cheeks heat up and the way you stiffen momentarily whoch just made his experience so much better. Flustered, {name}, flustered, {name}, flustered, {name}, is the only thing singing in his head right now. "Y’know," he muses, his chest pressing against your back as you finished wiping the counter, causing you to be flush against him and the cool marble. "I could just keep talking if it means getting a reaction outta you. Kinda fun watchin’ you get all flustered like that—"

"Can you please shut the fuck up?" you cut in as nice as you could. Hawks freezes because he has never aroused such a reaction in you such as that before and it made him let out a laugh from behind you, moving his arms to cage you in, so you won't move. No, no, no, no. You aren't going to let him get to you. "Ohh, feisty," he grins and you let out a shaky breath feeling his lips graze the crook of your neck. He's getting to you. "Didn’t know you had that in you."

"I mean it, Kei'," you mumble, unable to comprehend between the sensations of his touch and how his words made your lower abdomen do flips. "What if I don’t?" he murmurs and you could feel him pressing in closer to you, you aren't going to last if this keeps up, his voice dipping lower. "What if I just keep talking, keep whispering in your ear, keep making you—"

"Kei, stop right now," you say, cutting him off but this only riles him up further, and did you really want him to stop? No. No you did not. One of his arms move so that now, after his hand slowly traces up from your hips to your chin, tilting your head back into his shoulder, having clear access to your neck to place kisses on. "Well, sweetheart, you just made this a whole lot more fun for me." Oh, you just made this a whole lot more fun, sweetheart."

BAKUGOU

Bakugou is ranting about something—probably a fight that happened on patrol, probably how he’s the best—and you’ve been nodding along, but he just. Won’t. Stop. And, Oh my days, it is giving you a headache. "So then that extra tried to land a hit, and I fuckin’ dodged it—like obviously, dumbass should’ve known better—"

"Can you please shut the fuck up?" you sigh, rubbing your temples, shoving your face into the pillow your head was laying on. For a moment, he looks like he’s about to explode—literally. "Ohh, you think you’re real funny, don’t ya?" He smirks and you don't reply, the headache in your temple getting worse.

Suddenly you feel a big, heavy mass fall onto you causing a winded groan to leave your lips, muffled by the pillow on your face. "You don't get to say that to me and just sink into the pillows, baby," he taunts, snatching the pillow off your face, a surprised escaping your mouth. Blush coats your face as he leans his forehead against your own, lips about to press to yours, your breathing stills while your heart begins to poud hard in your chest. "Go on. Say it again. See what happens."

Maybe you should snap back at him more often...

SHOTO

Shoto has been talking in his usual calm, tone, explaining something in excessive detail. At first, you were listening, but now he’s been going on for several minutes, completely unaware that you’ve stopped paying attention. "I read that different types of ice melt at slightly varying speeds depending on density," he continues, watching the ice cubes swirl in his drink, referring to the ice in the cup, comparing it to his quirk. "It’s not significant, but it is interesting to consider in—"

"Can you please shut the fuck up?" you say, your cheeks meeting your palms. Shoto pauses mid-thought, blinking at you. He's buffering, trying to process your words. "…Did you just tell me to shut the fuck up, dear?" You sigh, resting your chin in your palm. "Yes, my love. I did." For a moment, he just stares at you, as if contemplating something. Then, so effortlessly it makes your stomach flip, he leans in slightly, his gaze steady.

"That was rude," he states. You open your mouth to reply, but his fingers brush your wrist absentmindedly, and you suddenly feel very aware of how close he is and lord have mercy, you're about to fold. "You don’t usually talk like that," he continues, "I think I like it."

What?

He was leaning in to place a kiss to your lips, and you were about to fall onto the futon in reciprocation until he pulls away, going back to yapping about his ice water. You groan. "Oh my god, Sho'."

Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

honey's a/note:: i do know about dabi's past i just don't want to spoil anyone who isn't up to that bit yet in the manga/show! i got spoiled on for his reveal and i will not be the one to spoil it for anyone else! so i will try my best!

#mha x reader #mha x you #adding the smut tag bc it is suggestive #mha smut #bakugou smut #shoto x reader #suggestive #dabi smut #dabi x reader #bakugou x reader #shoto x you #touya x you #touya x reader #hawks x reader #hawks smut #keigo x reader #katsuki x reader #todoroki x reader

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astars-things · 3 days ago

Note

"My baby, you did so well." For Quinn please 🙏

This is for 18+ readers only, if you are underage, I can't stop you from reading, just proceed with caution

mention of- toys, sub!reader dom!Quinn hughes

this is only my second time writing smut if you have any feedback that would be great x

smut content below

Quinn had this rule when he was away on roadie, "no touching yourself", he went as far as hiding your toys in a locked box in your shared closet, hiding one of the keys in an old pair of shoes and the other he took away with him, he trusted you not to use your fingers, the only times you were allowed to was when he was on call giving you permission

While cleaning out the closet, sorting through old clothes to decide what to keep and what to donate, your hand accidentally bumped into one of Quinn’s shoes. As it tipped over, a small, silver key tumbled to the floor, catching the light as it landed beside you.

You knew you shouldn’t. You knew exactly what that key unlocked. But the ache between your legs was impossible to ignore.

Without hesitation, you grabbed your vanity chair, setting it firmly on the floor before stepping up onto it. Your fingers reached for the familiar box tucked high on the shelf — your secret stash of toys and pleasures you hadn’t touched in far too long.

You quickly grabbed one, placing it on charge because you knew it needed it after not being used for a little bit, when you placed it on charge, you made your way into the kitchen,n washing the dishes, you had sent a timer so you didn't accidently set the apartment on fire, soon the timer rang out threw your ears

Giggly like a little kid, you ran into your shared bedroom. You were lying on your back, opening up a locked folder where you and Quinn could share audios and videos to help pass the time of roadies, little did you know Quinn got a notification when you opened this shared folder,

Soon, finding the one you wanted, it was an audio of Quinn dirty talking to you, helping you cum, you turned on your vibrator playing the buzzing toy on your clit, your phone placed next to your ear to simulate quinn being there with you, but you needed this after him sending you photos of him being sweaty and his abs on full display,

moans were heard through the apartment as you kept your buzzing friend on your clit moving it around in circles, soon the sensation got to much and you turned it off, you gave yourself time to come back to earth, you went to the bathroom to clean yourself up and washing off your toy and placing it back into your nightstanding setting yourself a mental reminder to put it back,

time skip

It had been two days since you used your toy, it was weighing on you to tell Quinn, but what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him, right? "hey honey i missed you" Quinn said as he wrapped his ams around you when he walked into the apartment "I missed you too bub" you replied giving him a long kiss "Needy aren't you" He whispered in your ear you gave him a shy smile "you can have me after my shower okay?" Quinn said before giving you a forehead kiss, making his way into your shared room, He didn't know why but he got a strong gut feeling to check your nightstand so he did

Quinn’s curiosity got the better of him as he walked over to the nightstand, fingers curling around the handle before slowly pulling the drawer open. His eyes landed on it almost immediately, your favorite toy, tucked neatly under some random receipts and hair ties, but not quite hidden enough. His brows lifted slightly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You’d used it recently. He could tell. By the time he reappeared in the doorway, you were scrolling mindlessly on your phone, completely unaware of what he’d just discovered. “So…” his voice was low, playful, but with an edge to it. “Anything you wanna tell me, sweetheart?” You glanced up at him, confusion flickering across your face. “What do you mean?” He held up the toy between his fingers, the sight of it making your stomach flip.

You were both looking at each other intensely, you knew you were in deep trouble, "Go lay on the bed, if I see one piece of clothing on you, you're going to be in even deeper trouble," he grumbled. You quickly followed behind Quinn, you watched as he went into the bathroom to take a shower, before dealing with you,

You quickly lay there naked, your mind wandered to how stupid you could be for not putting it back, to use it in the first place, all the thoughts left your mind as you heard the bathroom door open, Quinn standing there with one look in his eyes, to punish you

"you ready?" Quinn asked as he sat in front of you on the bed, you could only nod, "Words y/n I need words," He said, grabbing a condom and sliding it down his length "Yes", you quickly rushed out "Good girl", He said before he moved toward you, broad chest pressing against yours as his mouth latched onto your already hard nipple. His tongue flicked, lips sucking greedily, his other hand finding your neglected breast. His fingers rolled your nipple between his thumb and pointer finger, tugging just enough to make you arch off the bed.

“Quinn, please” you whimpered, the need bubbling over too fast.

“Please what, baby? Please make you come on my cock after you couldn’t wait for me?” he teased, but you could feel the heat in his words. He loved that you needed him that badly, so badly you couldn’t resist touching yourself when he was gone. He didn’t make you answer. Instead, he slid his cock through your soaked folds, coating himself in your slick before sinking into you with one deep, slow thrust.

The stretch was perfect , the kind that made your toes curl and a broken moan slip past your lips.

“So fucking tight. Were you thinking about me when you fucked yourself with that toy?” His voice was a low growl in your ear. “Yes,” you gasped. “Yeah? Did it feel as good as this?” He thrust hard, pulling out almost entirely before slamming back in.“No no, only you ”, you babbled, already falling apart under his pace.

Quinn didn’t hold back. His hands gripped your hips, keeping you still as he pounded into you, his cock dragging against that perfect spot with every thrust. His lips were everywhere, your neck, your collarbone, the swell of your breast, leaving marks to remind you whose you were.

Just when you were right on the edge, he reached over to the nightstand, grabbing the vibrator you’d been caught with.“If you love this so much, let’s use it together.”

You barely had time to process his words before the toy was buzzing against your clit, the sensation making you cry out. The combined stimulation — his cock, the vibrator, the weight of him pressing you into the mattress — it was overwhelming. “Quinn, I can’t, it’s too much”

“You can.” His hand wrapped around your throat, gentle but firm. “You can, baby. You’re gonna give me everything. Every fucking drop.” The first orgasm hit fast and hard, your body seizing around him, clenching his cock so tightly he nearly lost it. But he didn’t stop. The vibrator stayed against your clit as he kept thrusting, dragging you into a second orgasm before you could even catch your breath.

“That’s my girl. So pretty when you come.” By the time your third orgasm hit, tears were slipping down your cheeks, the pleasure so intense it was almost too much. But Quinn wasn’t done. “One more, baby. Just one more.” His voice was softer now, coaxing, gentle even as he drove into you with deep, steady thrusts. The fourth orgasm ripped through you, leaving you boneless, trembling under him. Your body shook, thighs twitching, tears slipping down your temples as you whimpered his name.

That was enough. Quinn’s thrusts grew sloppy, his fingers digging into your hips as he spilled into the condom with a deep, guttural groan. He barely took a second to catch his breath before he was easing out of you, quickly discarding the condom and gathering you into his arms.“My baby,” he murmured, his lips pressing soft kisses along your hairline. “You did so well. So fucking good for me.”

His fingers traced soothing circles along your back, his touch gentle now, all of that dominance melted into soft, loving care.“Are you okay?” he whispered. You nodded sleepily against his chest, your body still trembling slightly. “I got you,” he promised, reaching for a warm washcloth to gently clean you up. Every touch was tender, every word soft, as if you were the most precious thing in the world — because to Quinn, you were. He tucked you under the covers, curling his body around yours, his hand resting over your heart.

“I love you,” he murmured.

“I love you too,” you whispered back, safe and warm and so completely his.

#send in requests #thanks anon!#quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes smut #quinn hughes x you #vancouver canucks #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes imagine #nhl x reader #nhl smut

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ragana62 · 12 hours ago

Text

Hermione doesn't break rules openly, because she knows that having the aura of following rules means that when someone starts looking at the trio for who was responsible for all the laws broken, she will be written off on principle. She knows that being the responsible one gives her protection, and it gives all of them an escape route should things go badly.

I have always held it as a survival tactic. It's Hermione knowing that nobody even notices the quiet, polite, bookworm in the corner who just keeps her nose down and always turns in her work, with extra credit, perfectly complete a day early at least. The magical world is a dangerous place, she doesn't know anyone there at the start, and the people she does know have made clear to her on observation that even for those the magical world doesn't hate on sight, there's not much of a guarantee of help coming much less help that can do much of anything in the face of some of the opposition. She needs to fade into the background, because being in the spotlight is a target, and if she is going to take the spotlight, it needs to be for something positive like her academic work where she can still be written off as 'one of the good ones'.

And... it works. First year Hermione can walk up to multiple professors and say 'It's my fault, I read about trolls and thought I could stop it before it hurt anyone, they were just helping me' and every last one of them just nods and says 'yes, that seems perfectly plausible, good job boys, perhaps we don't do that again Hermione'. Second year Hermione already knows how to brew multiple NEWT level highly controlled potions and can steal the ingredients to make them, brew the potions in broad daylight, and turn up into the hospital wing when one goes wrong looking like a were-cat, and it raises no questions. The assumption is that she was just trying to work ahead and made a mistake, it absolutely wouldn't be that she stole ingredients to knock students unconscious and stick them into a closet so her friends could break into another house's common room while impersonating them. We see the pattern time and time again.

Hermione doesn't openly break rules, so her teachers, her peers even, don't look at her when a rule is broken, and more than that, if something goes wrong in the pursuit of breaking rules, she can bullshit her way out of it with little more than a 'oops, I was just really excited to try something new I learned and it went a little wrong, I'm sorry' and the problem goes away. And that's exactly why she feels confident she can get away with putting Rita in a jar, or stealing books from Dumbledore's office after sixth year, or any number of other things. Because she already has gotten away with things like that, and quite frankly, even if she does get caught, all she has to do is say 'I'm sorry, I was just really interested in some new reading material and didn't think he would mind since it was to help Harry...' and McGonagall will ignore it, or 'She broke the law, look, unregistered animagus! I was just trying to be responsible and help, especially with all the bad things happening around the tournament, you don't think she might have something to do with that, do you?' and everyone will just say 'ah yes, Hermione was just trying to enforce the rules and got a little overzealous, this is why we're going to make you a prefect. Maybe we need to put a little more thought into how we do that next time, okay? In the magical world, we tell an adult these things, instead of just jumping straight to trying to catch the perpetrator ourselves.'.

(I also think this is why Dumbledore is so confident in just saying 'two turns, you can save them both, have fun kids' and knowing she will know what he means. He has a rather similar understanding that appearances will always matter more than actions when it comes to consequences, even if I don't always agree as much with the actions he chooses to use appearances to cover over, and I think he recognizes that in her as well.)

i love how hermione has such a rule following aura that everyone ignores that she is the real rule breaker of the trio. harry sneaks out at night sometimes. hermione straight up kidnapped a whole woman and held her prisoner in an enchanted jar. even tom riddle didn't do that.

#hermione granger #harry potter #harry potter headcanon #hp headcanon #hp meta #I stand by my (probably should have been in jail by now at least a few times over but it's fine) wife

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nonotnolan · 2 days ago

Text

No Regrets

My roommate's body keeps looking at me like I'm supposed to be making the first move. It was weird enough when my roommate and his girlfriend swapped bodies for the weekend, but the unspoken tension was starting to become unbearable. "Seriously, Tiffany, you're starting to creep me out. Don't you and Daniel have plans for tonight?"

She just smiled at me. "No plans. I'm still deciding how I want to spend my evening. Daniel, though... he's taking my body out clubbing tonight. He wants to see how many free drinks he can score, and I think he's also planning to get laid." Gross. I knew better than to say anything out loud, but my face must have given me away. "Don't be such a prude, Jeff. You know we have an open relationship."

I tugged at my collar. "I know, Tiff, I'm sorry. I just... body swaps that cross the gender line still make me uncomfortable. It feels wrong, somehow. And, I mean, technically they are illegal."

"Oh please, get over yourself," she said, tossing herself onto his bed. "Swaps over 12 hours are also illegal, but that didn't stop you from hiring someone to take your Calc exam two weeks ago. You need to learn how to relax. Not everything you were told on Sundays is true, you know. Some things aren't actually all that bad. You're only clutching your pearls because society told you that swapping genders was bad. What harm is there, as long as both people consent?"

I wanted to argue, but I knew Tiffany was absolutely correct. There wasn't anything wrong with the two of them swapping bodies outside of society telling us that men and women could only swap with other men and other women. Which... given the way that their open relationship also defied societal expectations, I suppose it wasn't too much of a surprise that the two of them thought so little about swapping like this. "You're right, and I'm sorry. I... I'm trying, really. You've heard how conservative my childhood was. It's a lot to unlearn."

"Well, maybe it's time to start unlearning," she said, beckoning me closer. "You want to know the real reason I'm still here? It's because of you, stud. I'm here to see you." Did Tiffany just call me a stud? She had to be mocking me, but I could feel myself blushing all the same.

Tiffany started to unbutton my shirt, brushing her fingers along my exposed chest as she did so. I could feel myself growing erect. Were we... were we really doing this? They were in an open relationship, after all, it wasn't like he was helping Tiffany cheat on his roommate. With his roommate? God, Swappers made things confusing.

"I've seen the way you look at Daniel," she said, rubbing a hand across the stubble on my chin. "I love the man, but he's too straight and too clueless to pick up on those stares. And honestly, I can't help but think that you're too sheltered to realize you're even doing it half the time."

"I... thought I was hiding it better," I said, trying to steady my emotions. Her fingers started to tease my nipples, leaving me squirming with raw pleasure. "I still don't know if I'm bisexual, or gay, or just... Mormon. But I didn't think it mattered. He's already in a relationship with you. What I want isn't important."

"He's in an open relationship," she said, staring at me like I was a hunk of meat to be devoured. "He's also not here right now. I'm in control of this body right now, and I want to fuck you senseless. If that's what you want too, well..." Tiffany slipped her hand inside my waistband, giving my manhood a firm squeeze that had me gasping for breath. "Tonight's a perfect night to let loose. No regrets."

I couldn't hold back anymore. I leaned in for a quick kiss, which Tiffany returned with tongue. The two of us stripped down as fast as we could, though I made certain not to let her pull me onto the bed with her. "Not on Daniel's bed," I said, dragging her over to my part of the bedroom. "His sheets reek of frat boy sweat, and I doubt he has any lube."

"I, uhh... you're alright with being on top, right?" I asked, as I handed her the bottle of lube from my nightstand. It occurred to me that we hadn't actually talked through any plans, set boundaries, or anything like that. "The way you phrased it, I'm assuming that's what you meant, I just--"

"Stop. Thinking." Seeing Daniel's face looming over me, with a look of pure lust on his face, it was everything I never knew I needed. I started rolling over onto my knees before she yelled at me. "Not like that, stay on your back. I want to see your face as I fuck you senseless."

Tiffany spent the entire time telling me exactly what to do, and it was everything I could have ever wanted. She got me lubed, eased me onto her massive manhood, and railed me like there was no tomorrow. My chest was coated in strands of my own cum, while Daniel's cum slowly leaked out of my ass. I'd never had a no-hands orgasm before, but holy hell I could not believe how amazing that felt.

"I can't believe we just did that," I said, trying to catch my breath. She responded by scooping up some of the jizz off of my torso and putting it into her mouth. She was making an entire production out of licking it off of her finger, and I could feel myself getting hard again. "So, uhh... you... you'll be in Daniel's body for the entire evening?"

"If that's your way of asking me if I'd like to fuck you again? The answer is yes," she said, giving me a wink. "Even better, we might be able to make this a weekly thing," she added, standing up to grab some towels. "I don't think I'll have to fight too hard to convince Daniel to swap. What sort of straight man doesn't enjoy having boobs?"

God, I was falling for her so hard. What had I gotten myself into? Life was going to be a long, awkward hell once my roommate was back in his own body. And yet... I had to admit, I had no regrets.

#male body swap #gay body swap #casual body swap #queer romance #swapper #FxM TF

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minorlyatfault · 2 days ago

Text

❝𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔, 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐘, 𝐈 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄 !❞ j. todd x f!reader

i run in & turn on the lights,

run my hands to his short, black hair,

"i love you, harvey, i don't care."

𝓦arnings: grammatical errors. the joker & his stupid, ugly, rusty, stinky crowbar.

𝓝otes

001. weejendn reached 200!!9#$($(#($ ohmygods THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU..DNDSSKJS

002. SCREAMING

003. idea ws by @/rob1nzex because i don't tolerate jason todd angst. ZzldaLSVR MEANLONE

004. ppl r prolly annoyed w my works bc most of them r js comforting j. todd. IMSORRRIRYDHDJ i js lobelobelobe comforting j. todd

jason returns home earlier than he normally does. not because the streets of gotham are somehow safer▰just because he's tired. his body is weighed down as he locks his bike in the garage of his apartment building. the night air is chilly, nipping at the edges of his jacket, but he doesn't even notice. he should eat something. he should wait for you. but he won't.

he pulls himself up the stairs, unlocks the door, & enters his apartment. it's nothing like the manor, where there is always someone awake, where the floors creak under the weight of too many bodies, where alfred would make him eat before he could do anything else. here, it's just him.

well, sometimes.

your keys aren’t by the door, which means you’re probably at work. jason’s aware of that, so he doesn’t wait around. he tosses his helmet onto the couch, shrugs off his jacket, & heads straight for the bathroom.

the shower is hot, but he hardly flinches. he washes himself off, zoning out as the blood(his & others' mostly others')rinses away down the drain. his fingers dig into the bruises along his ribs, seeing how painful they are. not bad. he's had worse.

then he dries off, puts on a pair of sweats, & flops onto the bed. the sheets are cold. though, they wouldn't be if you were here. but you're not, so he goes to bed early.

he shouldn't. he knows what happens when he goes to bed too early.

jason doesn't dream much▰at least, not about anything good. tonight is no different.

the crowbar swings.

his ribs crack.

joker's laughing, & he's down on the floor, choking, blood in his lips. he struggles to get up, but his arms refuse to move. every part of him aches. he can't catch his breath▰

the joker swings again.

& again.

again.

again. again. again. again.

jason jolts awake. screamed. his muscles shaking wildly, his breathing clipped & harsh. his heart thudding in his chest, & he feels sure he still feels the memory agony of the crowbar digging into his skin.

the room is black.

quiet.

no one runs in to turn on the light.

jason lets out a deep breath, his body still shaking, & runs a hand through his short, black hair. it's okay. it's okay. it's okay. he's accustomed to this. he can do it. he’s used to this. he should get used to this. he▰

the door opens.

light comes into the room.

jason doesn't have time to move before you barge in, wearing your hello kitty pajamas, you look like you just came out of the shower. when did you arrive?

"jay?" you're whispery, but urgent, as if you're not sure he won't disappear on you if you're too loud.

he doesn't move. he just blinks at you, still trapped between the past & the now. he didn't expect you. he didn't expect anyone.

you sigh, moving closer, & before he can tell you anything, you move in & ran your fingers through his hair, just as he'd done moments before. your touch is soft, cautious, centering. like he's some delicate art that's meant to be in a museum. jason's shoulders relax a bit, as if the burden of his own head is just a little less heavy with you around.

"you're okay," you whisper. "you're safe."

jason swallows. his throat is tightened he wants to tell you something, but all that gets out is, "you weren't supposed to be home yet."

you give a soft laugh, continuing to run your fingers through his hair. "i got off early." you pause before continuing, "are you okay?"

jason laughs harshly, turning away. "yeah. just a nightmare."

you don't appear to believe him, but you don't press. you sit down next to him on the bed, your hand still in his hair, letting the silence remain. jason allows you to.

for a moment, neither of you speaks.

then, softly, jason says, "i don't understand why you stay."

you blink. "what?"

his jaw tightens. "you're too good. & i'm just…" he takes a harsh breath, shaking his head. "i don't know. i don't want to mess you up."

your brows furrow, but your voice remains soft. "jason."

"i mean it," he grumbles. "i don't want to▰taint you. you should be with someone▰"

"say 'better' & i'm gonna hit you," you cut in, & jason looks at you, taken aback. you're frowning at him now, but not angrily. it's more frustration. sadness. you're upset.(no shit)

you, once again, let out a sigh & reposition so you're facing him correctly. "you ever seen a pomegranate?"

jason blinks. "what?"

"a pomegranate," you say again. "it's messy. red & kinda violent-looking when you open it up. if you're careless, it stains everything. but if you take your time with it. if you're patient, it's sweet. worth it." your thumb traces lightly over his temple. "you think you're just a mess, jason. but you're not. you've just never been handled right."

jason looks at you.

you look back.

for a moment, you wonder if he's going to fight. perhaps he's going to sneer, roll his eyes, inform you that you're wrong. but he doesn't. he simply looks… exhausted.

he slowly exhales, his eyes closing as he leans into your touch, & your heart breaks.

you shift your position, now lying beside him, still running your fingers through his hair. "i love you, jay." you whisper. "i don't care that you think you're messy, or broken, or whatever else your mind is trying to make you think. i love you, i'm not leaving. mess me up all you want. taint me. you're worth the mess.”

jason doesn't answer immediately. but eventually, his hand reaches for yours, interlacing his & your fingers together.

"…okay," he whispers.

you smile, laying a kiss on his lips.

"okay."

#vi's basket ₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎#jason todd x reader #jason todd #red hood x reader #red hood #dc x reader #dc comics #dcu #dc

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littelovelunette · 2 days ago

Note

Sev with reader whos actually really insecure and sad and frustrated that Sevika won't say 'i love you' back or out loud despite them having a strong long enough to say I love you relationship.

"Please, Say it Once."

Mentions of abuse, Sevika being mean as fuck, emotional abuse

It was today, you'd confront her today.

You knew Sevika wasn't big on verbal affection or babying and coddling you but lately you've been feeling even more neglected than the usual.

Your past traumas made you feel like she was cheating on you. Probably in bed with some other woman. Some other woman who she'd actually say "I love you" to and some other woman she'd commit to.

You knew from the start that Sevika had this problem but you didn't want her to feel like she was the problem or anything.

You wanted to be her special someone who would be there with her through thick and thin. But now it was simply just emotional abuse and you'd cry yourself to sleep as Sevika slept peacefully snoring beside you.

What if you brought it up and Sevika suddenly wanted to break with you? What would you do? You didn't know so you decided to make it a good setting when you'd confront her.

That's how you found yourself in the living room, pouring out a glass of whiskey for Sevika, heart pounding violently against your chest.

Sevika takes the glass with a mumbled "Thanks" and that's when you finally managed to say it.

"You know I don't need grand gestures or poetic words." You paused. "I just want to hear you say it, just once." You said, your last words coming out more saddened than you anticipated it to be. Sevika didn't answer you. She didn't even look at you. Did you even matter to her?

She swirled the amber liquid in the glass, taking a breath before saying, "You already know how I feel. Why's it matter?"

Her words cut deeper than they should've. Your fingers fidgeted, anxiously picking at the cuticles of your nails before you said, "Because it just matters! Every time I say it I'm usually always met with silence. It's like talking to a wall!"

Sevika paused and huffed a deep sigh, lines of her face prominent in the dim golden lights of the room.

"I'm still here, aren't I? Still coming back to you every single day despite the mind crushing, bone crushing work I do for Silco every day." You can tell Sevika is trying to keep her cool, her words shuddering with controlled rage and anger.

You looked at her, grey eyes meeting with yours. There guilt flickering somewhere deep behind the façade of animalistic anger.

"Your body is here, your mind and heart are with some other woman." Was what you wanted to say but held your tongue.

"Just say it, please," your words, now a soft plea, were teetering at the edge of tears building up somewhere behind your tearducts.

Sevika didn't say anything, veins in her neck flexing, jaw tensing. She didn't say anything, held her silence. Held her pride. Her ego.

"You can... But you wont." You spat and turned to run away and lock yourself in your room, tears starting to roll down your face in a steady stream.

Sevika grabbed your wrist with her mechanical hand, metallic tips of her fingers digging into the delicate skin of your hand, you flinched.

Sevika slammed the glass down, crushing it against the table with her flesh hand easily, liquid spilled everywhere. "Don't start." Sevika stuttered, for the first time it was, but she stuttered. "You know it."

"Then why can't you just say it?"

Sevika looked like for a second she'd bash your hand in but she didn't. She took a second, exhaling through her nose, nostrils flaring.

"Saying it makes it real." Sevika sounded vulnerable, eyes darting down at the floor. You blinked in confusion, all emotions coming at a halt. "I say it and it's out there, you get used to it. You think you can get the tough and gruff Sevika just say 'i love you' to you and you're all high and mighty that's the cue for you to leave—"

You put a finger to her lips, shushing her. "I'm not going anywhere."

"And if you do?"

"I won't." You said firmly and slowly brought your hands up to cup your face. "Loving someone isn't a weakness. It's not a death sentence."

For a second the both of you stayed silent, foreheads pressing against one anothers.

"You spilled all the whiskey, and I poured it for you." You pouted sadly making Sevika's heart clench. She slowly stroked your hair.

"I'm so sorry, bunny." Sevika's apology was quiet and whispered, such a contrast to her previous tone. "I love you, my angel."

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korn-dawg · 2 days ago

Note

I wanna be mean to loser ellie so bad mock her a bit make fun of her moans put a vib in her and ask her in a sickenly sweet tone what’s wrong in public could you write anything about this hc or anything

YESSSS OMFG THIS IS FIRE HOLY SHIT OFC I CAN 🤩🤩

✯✮✯✮✯✮✯✮✯✮✯✮✯✮✯✮✯✮✯✮✯✮✯

loser!ellie who comes home one day with a remote controlled vibrator, giggling childishly when she shows it to you

loser!ellie who jokingly suggests going on a date to a fancy place to test it out

loser!ellie who doesn't expect the enthusiastic yes from you, thinking you were gonna shut her down

loser!ellie who thought you were going to be the one wearing it. dear, was she wrong

loser!ellie who walks into the restaurant, trying so hard to ignore the toy shoved in her cunt, pushing right up against her g-spot when she sits down

loser!ellie who gets through the first few minutes of conversation, slowly starting to relax. that is, until the waiter walks up to the table

loser!ellie who watches you slide your hand in the pocket of your bomber jacket, the same pocket you slipped the remote in when you two got out of the car earlier

loser!ellie who starts trying to place her order before the damned thing inside her buzzes to life at the highest setting possible, causing her to jerk forward with a half-smothered moan, almost slamming her face into the table

loser!ellie who gives you the dirtiest look when you order for her, pawning her behavior off as "she's getting over a cold"

loser!ellie who finally catches her breath when you turn it off, giving her the most nauseating sweet "are you sure you're okay, babe?" to which she responds to with a disgruntled "i'm fine."

loser!ellie who thought you were going to apologize with a kiss on the cheek, leaning into your lips until a imitation of her noise hit her ears

loser!ellie who gets so red as she pushes your face away while you giggle, the deep crimson almost masking her freckles

loser!ellie who panics when the waiter comes back, already seeing the sick little grin spreading across your face

loser!ellie who starts feeling the buzz again as he starts talking, asking if you two wanted the AC turned up cause he noticed how red she was

loser!ellie who looks at you to answer, only for you to gesture for her answer instead, turning the intensity of the vibrator up

loser!ellie who manages a little "yes, please." before gripping your leg under the table, fingernails digging into your thigh as she attempts to concentrate on not cumming in her pants that very second

loser!ellie who unfortunately didn't get the relief of an orgasm, as you turned it off completely right as she was about to tip over the edge

loser!ellie who was getting annoyed with you keeping up the concerned girlfriend façade as you dabbed her cheeks with your napkin, talking how the waiter was right about how red she was

loser!ellie who could barely eat when the food came, especially not when you turned the toy on every time she went to take a bite, acting as if nothing was happening at all

loser!ellie who excused herself from the table to go to the washroom, to which you didn't follow after, opting to just mess with the remote without seeing her reaction. not being able to see her reaction, though, meant you didn't know when to stop

loser!ellie who was thanking whoever was watching over her that the restrooms were private, because she was currently leaning against the sink with the small object vibrating inside her, unable to support her own weight

loser!ellie who reached for her phone when it started buzzing in her back pocket, watching as slews of dirty texts from you came through, one after the other

loser!ellie who came twice in the washroom, hand clasped tight over her mouth as her legs shook violently, almost falling over multiple times

loser!ellie who looked like a newborn giraffe walking back to the table, nearly tumbling over her own feet

loser!ellie who rushed you along while you ate, the feeling of her soaked boxers pressing her own sticky cum back up against her pussy being oh so unbearable

loser!ellie who jumps on you as soon as you two were back in the car, reaching a hand in her pants and pulling out cum-soaked fingers, shoving them in your mouth harshly

loser!ellie who watches as you sucked them clean before grabbing her by the face opening her mouth by squeezing her cheeks tightly, spitting her arousal back onto her tongue, telling her to never try that again

loser!ellie who lowkey got her shit rocked when you two got back to your place, twitching in overstimulation and fucked stupid by your strap by the end of the night

✯✮✯✮✯✮✯✮✯✮✯✮✯✮✯✮✯✮✯✮✯✮✯

hey gyus i think i got carried away at that end part there

✯✮✯✮✯✮✯✮✯✮✯✮✯✮✯✮✯✮✯✮✯✮✯

taglist !! :

@lolitalovess @saturnhas82moons @odettesoddities @mars4hellokitty @hihihhihahahha @peskylez @kylorey25 @lipglosskxsses @hwasddeongbyeoli @kaykeryyy @kissyslut @meow4510

(i hope i didn't fuck that up and tag a random ass blog 😭)

#tlou part 2 #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #the last of us part 2 #ellie the last of us #ellie smut #loser!ellie #loser!ellie x reader

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spiderb00 · 3 days ago

Text

- Fam out #6

Sophia Laforteza x reader

“You and Sophia never fight, so imagine Yoonchae's surprise when she found out she would have to postpone her plan for a few more days”

Genre – Fluff Warnings – Sophia and Yn fight, but it's the usual fam out cuteness

(request)

Now playing – Compass, by The Neighbourhood

The towel on the bed was grabbed roughly, Sophia's hands squeezing the fabric tightly as she hurried downstairs. It wasn't the first time it had happened, but Sophia always let it go, every time it happened she just took a deep breath and put the towel away, talking to you about it and listening to the embarrassed apologies that came out of your mouth. But this time, she was tired.

As soon as you appeared in Sophia's field of vision, the towel she was holding was thrown over you, covering the view you had of the television. “Seriously, Yn!”

You quickly tried to get the towel off your head, but it seems you weren't quick enough, because now your character was on the ground, while some other player was stealing the items that were yours. “NO! Sophia, you made me lose.”

“I don't care about your stupid game! How many times have I told you not to leave a wet towel on the bed? Seriously, Yn. How old are you? Five years old?” Running a hand through her hair in frustration, Sophia watched you get up, while throwing the towel on the sofa.

“Yeah, but what was the point of waiting until I'd finished the match?” You say, barely having time to react when the video game controller is snatched from your hand and thrown onto the sofa.

“I DON'T GIVE A DAMN ABOUT YOUR GAME!” Sophia says, coming closer to you, making you automatically take a step back. “THIS WOULDN'T HAVE HAPPENED IF YOU'D PUT THINGS IN THE RIGHT PLACES!”

“I PUT THINGS IN THE RIGHT PLACES!” The look Sophia gave you made you think about all your life choices, and lower your voice the next second. “I mean... I put things in the right places.”

“No, you don't! I've been complaining about your towel on the bed for weeks, but what do you do? You keep leaving the towel on the bed!” Sophia says, making your head spin.

The shouting, the complaining, you know it's your fault, but it was all making you a bit dizzy. “I just forgot...”

“You didn't forget. You're acting like a damn child, you were addicted to this stupid game and you're simply forgetting the basic things you used to do.” Sophia said.

She was frustrated too, not just about the towel, but because she'd missed you lately. You were spending so much time on your video game that you were forgetting about her. It had been weeks since you and Sophia had gone out together, weeks since you had done anything nice, or romantic, or even “family”. All because of that stupid video game.

“Well, I have the right to have a bit of fun too. Maybe I'd like to be with my company, be alone for a bit too!” You say, without thinking.

Laughing sarcastically, Sophia pushes your chest, making you fall onto the sofa. past you, the Filipino girl picked up her phone, putting on her shoes and texting someone.

“What are you doing?” You said, getting up from the sofa quickly.

“I'm going out. You want your space, have your space!”

The deafening slam of the door was the last thing you heard, trying to follow Sophia only to see an Uber pull up in front of both your houses.

It was Thursday, the silence in the house bothered you, any noise could be heard, and that made you feel empty. The days have gone by very slowly, since your fight with Sophia, you've been getting more and more upset, the thought that things didn't have to come to this, the thought that it was all a stupid fight, the thought that you could have avoided it. It was stupid.

You wanted to make up with Sophia, to tell her that you'd been an idiot, that you'd been childish, that she was right and that she could come home now, because you missed her so much. But unfortunately, since that day, you haven't been able to see Sophia, you've respected her space, but you couldn't lie in saying that your heart didn't race every time she sent you a message.

“Yoonchae is waiting for you.”

“Come back at eight, we have appointments the next morning.”

Parking the car in front of the Kats' house, you waited for Yoonchae to get out, seeing the younger girl running towards you. “Hey, kiddo! I missed you.”

Yoonchae didn't really understand why you and Sophia were fighting, she just assumed it must be something serious, since you've never fought before. How wrong she was... “I missed you too. It's very strange to see you and Sophia apart.”

As you got into the car, you sighed at Yoonchae's words, you knew that it affected her too, even if only a little. She was used to you and Sophia going out together, spoiling her constantly, looking after her like two mother tigers look after their cubs, and now, it was like she was missing out on part of a good thing.

“I know...” You say, starting to drive through the streets towards the mall, where Yoonchae would spend all your money. “I'm sorry about that, it was just a stupid fight...”

“But you'll fix it, right?” Yoonchae's question made your heart skip a few beats.

Honestly, you had no idea. You and Sophia had never fought like this, you'd never gone more than a day without speaking to each other, you hoped it would never happen, and if it did, it wouldn't be because of something stupid you'd done.

Giving a tight-lipped smile, you glanced at Yoonchae briefly, only to see the younger girl already looking at you for some kind of confirmation, anything that might reassure her. “Yeah, of course.”

Boy, you were so lost.

The clock on your wrist read 8:30 p.m., and you knew Sophia was going to kill you. Damn it, she was already mad at you, and now this? But it wasn't your fault that you were having so much fun with Yoonchae, the younger girl's happiness was making you forget your responsibilities.

“You're late!” Sophia was already at the door, she was probably spying on the car through the window, and when you parked, she was already ready to unleash the dogs on you.

“Sorry, we lost track of time...” Yoonchae tries to explain, lifting the shopping bags as if that justifies everything.

“We have appointments early tomorrow morning, and you know she has trouble getting up early, Yn!”

“I don't...” Yoonchae tried.

“I know, I'm sorry, we were just having fun. It's been a while since we've seen each other.”

“You could see more of her if you came here. Or were you still glued to the video game?”

“Guys...” Poor maknae.

“Why do you have to be so mean?”

“Because someone has to put this family in order!” Sophia said, sighing before pointing in the direction of the bedrooms. “Yoonchae, go get ready for bed, we have a busy day tomorrow.”

“But...”

“Do what she's saying Yoonchip.” You say, giving a small smile to the younger girl, who was hesitant to leave you two alone.

“Are you guys going to fight?”

“No.”

Looking at the two of you skeptically, Yoonchae sighed, knowing that she couldn't win the 2x1. Waving goodnight, she headed for her room, leaving you and Sophia staring at each other awkwardly.

“Sorry.” It was the first thing that escaped your lips. Sophia's sigh was heard, and you took it as a chance to continue. “I know I was wrong, and I'm sorry for that. We've never spent so much time fighting, and that scares me.” You said, pausing, wondering if you were bothering her or if she was ready to have this conversation. “I miss you, baby.”

Looking at you, Sophia's eyes softened, coming closer to you, she hugged your shoulders. “I miss you too, baby.”

The truth is that you both recognized how silly it had all been. You knew you'd made a mistake, Sophia was right to complain to you about your sloppy attitudes, since you'd never been like that and seemed to be in a kind of constant black hole with that new game you'd picked up. And Sophia recognized that perhaps she had stressed herself too much, getting overwhelmed with the job of leader and all the things she had to deal with on a daily basis.

“I'm sorry for yelling at you, and leaving...” Sophia began.

“It's okay, baby. I understand, you were overwhelmed.” You said, placing a kiss on her forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Sophia said, moving closer and sealing her lips with yours.

The kiss was full of love, saying all the things you've wanted to say to each other for weeks, killing all the desire you've felt all these days.

“How about we say goodnight to Yoonchae, and you take me home?” Sophia said, looking at you with a look full of love.

“I think that's a wonderful idea.”

Yoonchae's voice was muffled, but the two of you could hear her saying “Come in” right after you knocked on the door.

You could have sworn you saw Yoonchae's eyes light up when she saw you and Sophia's hands intertwined, finally getting the confirmation that everything would return to normal that she so desperately wanted.

“We came to say goodnight.” You said, approaching and kissing the forehead of the youngest girl, who was lying between the warm covers.

“Are you all together again?” Yoonchae asked with a smile on her face.

“Yes, everything's fine.” Sophia said, kissing the back of your hand as you smiled at her.

Your cloud of love was soon broken by Yoonchae, who coughed falsely to get your attention. “Well then, since you've made up, I think it would be a good time for you to meet Evie.”

Frowning, you looked at Sophia with a slight smile, seeing that she didn't know what Yoonchae was talking about either.

“Who's Evie, Yoonchip?” Sophia asked, a confused smile on the Filipina's face.

Looking at the two of you, Yoonchae took a deep breath, relaxing her shoulders, only to make yours tense at her behavior.

“My girlfriend.”

Holy shit.

“YOUR WHAT?”

Hey babies, how are you?

It's been a while, hasn't it? We're already on part 6 of fam out, and I'm surprised this series has so many chapters.

Anyway, I've been very busy these days, I have some asks to answer, and I'm going to answer it!

just a quick stop around here, drink some water, stay safe

xoxo, spider

#katseye imagines #katseye x reader #kpop gg #gxg #kpop fluff #sophia laforteza x reader #jeong yoonchae x reader #spiderb00

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keraawrites · 1 day ago

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Don't play wit' me

Summary: Dealer Eren AU, Eren doesn't play when it comes to you, and you loved how you had him wrapped around your finger. So when you don't get your way one day, no one can blame you for being a tad bit bratty. ۶ৎ Eren x black fem reader ۶ৎ

Context: Drug use, use of the word nigga, tongue piercing, tattoo's, alcohol use, bratty reader, rough sex, oral (m&f), chocking, unprotected sex (wrap it up guys x), pole dancing, degrading, use of word daddy, ma, mama, public sex (?)

Word count — 5.7k

You couldn't help the small smile that tugged on your brown-stained lips as you watched your man put a gun to some bum ass nigga's head for calling you out of your name.

Everyone who knew Eren knew you. He was the biggest dealer around, not only for his top product but for the fact that he had such great referrals. Eren didn't like strangers until they were vetted by him, Levi, and Connie, so it was strange that Jean had recommended someone to him, but it was even stranger that he let it slide without any background check.

Maybe it was because he was in a good mood after you took his dick in your mouth ten minutes earlier.

You often went along with Eren to his drops and to the trap, so it wasn't strange to see you prancing around. As you were friendly with his boss and the rest of his friends, Eren had no problem bringing you.

But there was a little hiccup. Jean.

Eren never really considered him a friend—God knows why—but he did sell to him, so when Jean brought a guest with him to the trap, all hell broke loose when said nigga called you the trap whore and asked when he could have a turn with you.

The room went silent. Eren’s head snapped toward the guy so fast, before anyone could even process what happened, he had the barrel of his Glock pressed right between the dude’s brows, his jaw tight, emerald eyes glinting with a rage that was barely contained.

"Say that shit again," Eren’s voice was eerily calm, too calm.

Jean took a step back, hands raised. "Eren, chill, bro—"

"Nah, fuck that." Eren cocked the gun, pressing it harder into the guy’s forehead. "You think you can just walk up in here, talk on my girl, and walk out breathing?"

The guy stammered, sweat beading along his hairline. "I-I ain't mean it like that, man—"

"Oh, you ain’t mean it like that?" Eren mocked, tilting his head. "So what the fuck did you mean?"

The whole room held its breath. Even Levi, usually unbothered by anything, shifted slightly in his seat, arms crossed as he watched the scene unfold. Connie, sitting a few feet away, shook his head with a low chuckle.

He continued to stammer, his tough-guy act completely squashed under Eren’s glare. You sighed, arms crossed, tapping your nails against your thigh as you watched the scene unfold. This wasn’t new. Eren never let disrespect slide, especially when it came to you.

Levi finally spoke up, voice dry. "Eren, we got business to handle. Ain't no point wasting a bullet on some dumbass who won't live long in this game anyway."

Eren didn’t move immediately, his trigger finger twitching slightly. You could tell he was debating it. You wouldn’t stop him if he pulled it—you knew how he was.

Still, you sighed dramatically, shifting in your seat. “Renny,” your voice was soft, lilting, deliberately sweet.

Eren’s shoulders dropped slightly at the sound of your voice. He let out a short breath through his nose before taking a slow step back, lowering the piece.

"Get the fuck out," Eren muttered, voice still deadly.

The guy didn’t need to be told twice. He stumbled back, practically tripping over himself as he bolted out the door. Jean lingered for a second, giving you and Eren an unreadable look before following after him.

Eren turned to you, jaw still tight, but his eyes softened just a little. "You good?"

You smirked, reaching up to brush a thumb across his jaw. "Of course. My man handled it."

He let out a small, satisfied hum, pulling you in close, fingers curling around your waist. "Damn right I did."

You leaned in, voice a low whisper. "Still owe me for leaving me hanging earlier."

Eren chuckled, pressing a slow kiss against your lips before murmuring against them, "I’ll make it up to you, baby. In every way you want."

That's how it was. Eren didn't play when it came to you. You want a fresh set? He'd give you more than enough money. You want a new coach bag? He gives you his black card and tells you to go nuts. You want some dick? He'll stop what he's doing and has you crying on his cock before you can think.

So yeah, three years with the man has made you endlessly spoiled—you always got your way.

Your brows were furrowed as you looked down at the text that lit your screen. You were confused, very confused.

'Have to rain check on our date ma, gotta deal with some shit'

You blinked, your fingers hovering over the keyboard—you were a little confused, not knowing how to respond to something you weren't used to.

You pressed the ringer next to his name before you could think. You could hear it ring for a while, anger starting to bubble in your chest, thinking he wasn't going to answer your call.

"Ma, I cant talk—“

You cut him off before he could finish. "What do you mean you have to reschedule?"

You could hear music and shouting in the background but you didn't care, "I got shit to deal with, I'll take you out tomorrow--“

"Eren, no," you snapped, your body shifting in your shared oversized bathtub, your nails tapping against the sides, "I don’t wanna go out tomorrow. I gotta help Mikasa with some shit so I want to go out today, like you promised."

He sighed on the other end. "Ma, don’t start—"

"Don’t start what? Getting upset that my man is ditching me? After I just had a bath with all those essential oils that you like? Had my hair done, nails fresh, bought a tight ass dress that you said would make my ass like fat? And for what? A damn rain check?"

You heard him exhale sharply. "You know I don’t wanna do this, baby, but shit came up. Business. You know how it is."

"Nah, what I know is that I always come first." Your tone was laced with attitude, lips pouting even though he couldn’t see it.

He was quiet for a second, and you could picture him rubbing his temple, jaw clenched. You didn’t care. Eren never told you no. He always made time. So the fact that he was choosing not to right now? Unacceptable.

"Ma—"

"Nope," you interrupted, shifting again as the bubbles rose, your fingers pulling a fresh blunt off your bath table, voice turning syrupy sweet but still full of attitude. "I get it. You got 'shit to deal with.’ So I’ma go find something else to do too.

"Oi--"

"Byeeee." You hung up the phone, kissing your teeth, you watched as he tried to call you again, knowing he hated it when you cut him off.

You continued to ignore him as you sent Historia and Sasah a text asking if they were still going to the club. The two quickly hit you back with a yes and said they'd swing by to get you in 40 minutes.

You were glad your makeup and hair were already done, you set your bath knowing you liked the dewy look it gave your freshly beat face.

You sighed as you took a drag from the freshly lit blunt that sat between your fingers, letting the smooth smoke curl around your lips before exhaling.

The sound of your phone buzzing again caught your attention, your eyes darting down to the last text you knew Eren would send you for the night.

'Don't play with me'

You felt the hum of the weed running through you as a small smirk pulled on your lips. You opened the message, letting him know you had read it before locking your phone.

By the time you stepped out of the bath, the weed had settled into your bloodstream, leaving you warm and buzzing. The bathroom mirror was fogged up, but you could still see the outline of your figure as you slipped into a dangerously low-cut silver dress that showed off your spine tattoo, the fabric hugging your curves like it was made for you.

Biting your lip, you took a quick selfie, your fingers placed gently on your neck, purposely showing off your ring finger that had his name tatted across. Hearing the honk of a car, you licked your lips as you quickly made a post to Instagram, tagging your man before you grabbed your clutch and waltzed out the front door.

C'mre daddy.

The club was already packed when you walked in with Historia and Sasha, neon lights bouncing off your skin, the bass of the music thrumming deep in your chest as you made your way through the crowd.

You were playing with fire; you saw the look of recognition in the bouncer's eyes as he noticed you. You could see the hesitation in him, but with a raised brow, he let you through. You knew Eren would know where you were the minute you stepped into his club.

Yes, his club.

Annie and Ymir were already in the VIP section, waiting, drinks in hand. Annie, ever the minimalist, had on a fitted two-piece, gold jewelry catching the light as she raised her glass in greeting. Ymir, sprawled lazily on one of the couches, smirked at her blonde girlfriend, squeals leaving her lips as she practically pounced on the short-haired brunette.

“About time,” Ymir teased. “Figured Eren had you locked up somewhere.”

You rolled your eyes, plopping down beside her. “Boy’s acting up tonight. Fucking cancelled on me so here I am--"

"You mean he told you no, so now you're in his club, knowing he probably already knows you're here?"

You smirked, your tongue running along your teeth, the cool metal of your piercing clinking with your pearly whites. Your fingers ran against the rim of the shot glass before downing the tequila.

"Exactly, so let me go shake my ass."

Eren continued to faze out the stupid argument between Connie and Armin as he lazily rolled a blunt between his fingers. He wasn’t paying them much attention; his focus was on his phone, eyes scanning through messages from his men.

At first, he thought he had read it wrong.

Then another text came through.

And another.

"Yo, your girl just walked into the club."

Eren’s brows furrowed.

Nah. No way.

There was no way that you were acting out all because he had to reschedule. Actually, scratch that, that is exactly what you were doing, and he knew he should have seen it coming.

His jaw clenched, his fingers flexing around his phone as more messages popped up.

"She came with Historia and Sasha." "VIP spotted her with Annie and Ymir."

Eren’s grip on his blunt tightened. He was already annoyed as it was—you had hung up on him earlier, ignored his text and calls, and now? You were out, in his fucking club, acting like he wasn’t going to find out?

Armin must’ve noticed the sudden shift in his demeanor because he leaned in. "Something wrong?"

Eren didn’t respond right away, instead unlocking his phone and scrolling through Instagram. He had a feeling—one that was confirmed the moment he saw your post.

"C’mere, daddy."

That picture. That fucking picture.

Your smooth, dark skin glowing under the dim light of your shared bedroom, the silver dress clinging to your curves like it was made for you, the way you placed your fingers just right to show off the tattoo of his name across your ring finger.

Eren’s nostrils flared. His tongue ran across his teeth, that little muscle in his jaw ticking.

Oh, you were real bold tonight, huh?

Armin, still waiting for an answer, gave Eren a skeptical look. "Eren? What is it?"

Eren exhaled sharply, his voice rough. "She’s at the club."

Armin rubbed his temple. "Shit. Annie told me the girls were going out, but she never mentioned—" He trailed off, eyes darting to Eren’s phone. His brows lifted as he took in the post. "Oh."

Eren didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. He picked up his keys, and the two followed right behind him.

Connie was grinning like a cat got milk in the back, windows rolled down as he continued to smoke. The speakers blaring with some rap song Armin put on but Eren couldn't care about those two, he was thinking how he was gonna spank your ass raw for acting like a spoiled brat.

He pulled up to the club not that long after; it was no surprise, given how fast he was speeding. Connie dapped the bouncer, but Eren was already pushing through bodies as he entered the club. The atmosphere was thick—sweaty bodies grinding to the heavy bass, flashing neon lights casting everything in deep shades of red and purple.

His eyes scanned the VIP section, his gaze falling on Ymir and Annie. He was getting ready to barge over to them, but he felt it. He felt you.

The green hue of his eyes scanned the crowd until it landed on the cheering crowd, whistling, roaring men, their greedy hands throwing cash towards the stage.

His body went rigid.

He was going to kill you.

Eren’s breath stilled in his chest as his gaze locked onto you, his entire world narrowing down to the sight before him.

You moved with a kind of confidence that made his stomach twist, muscles flexing as you spun around the pole, the silver dress clinging to your curves like a second skin. The fabric barely covered your ass as you dipped low, teasing, taunting, daring.

Eren’s jaw ticked, his hands curling into fists at his sides.

The brunettes jaw clenched, his hands balling into fists at his sides. He could hear Connie mutter a "Goddamn" under his breath, and even Armin, usually the most composed of the three, shifted uncomfortably.

Eren moved slowly, ignoring the two who probably ran off to find their perspective women as he continued to watch you. He wasn't a bitch, but if you could describe what he was feeling it was fucking love, love and hate.

His stomach was a wreck as you worked that pole like you owned it. Eren never forgot how much he loved you even when you pissed him off like today and watching your perfect self make other men hard was how he loved you the most.

He watched as your dark skin gleamed under the dim lights, muscles flexing and moving with every precise motion. You twisted, arching your back just right as your hands traced down your body. Your hips rolled, slow and seductive, before you spun again, gripping the pole with ease, confidence dripping from every movement.

Your eyes—half-lidded, sultry—flicked up, scanning the crowd.

His lips pulled, your gazes locked. His arms crossed as he continued to watch you, noticing the slight hesitation in your movement but you didn't stop.

Eren inhaled sharply through his nose, his patience hanging by a fucking thread.

The music was pounding, the crowd cheering, money leaving the hands that reached toward you, but Eren didn’t hear or see any of it.

All he saw was you.

The way you dropped down, ass nearly touching the floor before rising back up, body winding like you were made of liquid.

The way your fingers ran down the length of the pole before wrapping around it again, your tongue swiping along your lips, that teasing little expression still in place.

You watched as he started pushing through the crowd, having had enough of your game, so you thought, why not double down.

Your leg curled around the pole, the cheers loud, your ass facing the crowd as you began to give the crowd a little twerk. The roar of the men around you—the way their hands stretched toward you like they had a fucking chance—

The hem of your dress flapping against your ass was what set him over the edge— well it could have been a number of things but before you knew it you had been dragged off the stage.

The boos of the crowd was drowned out as Eren's tatted hand held a firm grip, almost brusing grip on your wrist as he pulled you towards his back office.

You stumbled slightly as he dragged you through the club, your heels clicking against the floor, but he didn’t let up, didn’t speak, didn’t fucking look at you.

You bit your lip, hiding the smug little grin threatening to form. Oh, he was mad.

But you weren’t stupid. You could feel the heat rolling off him, the tension in his muscles, the way his fingers flexed against your skin.

The moment he kicked open the door to his office and yanked you inside, Eren slammed the door shut, pushing you up against it before you could get a word out. His hands braced on either side of your head, his chest rising and falling in deep, heavy breaths.

You tilted your chin up, refusing to break eye contact, that bratty little smirk still playing on your lips. "Something wrong, daddy?"

His nostrils flared. "Don’t fucking start with me."

"Start what?" You batted your lashes innocently, running your hands up his chest, feeling how his muscles tense under your touch.

A soft moan left your lips, his tattooed ring-clad hand had wrapped around your throat, you continued to stare up at him, watching the muscles in his jaw tighten, your pussy clenched around nothing as you noticed how dark his eyes got—how angry he was.

Fuck.

"You wanna act up just cause I told you no? I spoil you too god damn much." His voice was low, dark, dripping with restrained hunger.

A whine left your lips, his thumb rubbing against your lips"You always give me what I want, Renny." Your eyes never left his as your lips wrapped softly around the tip of his thumb.

You could barley make out the 'fuck' that he muttered under his breath, eyes hooded, watching the way your soft lips moved. Eren’s jaw clenched so tight you thought it might shatter. His thumb pressed down against your tongue, the cool feel of your piercing rubbed against the ridges on his thumb. He watched the way your soft lips wrapped around it, the way your warm mouth sucked just enough to send all the blood in his body rushing straight to his dick.

His grip on your throat tightened, forcing your head back against the door as he leaned in, his breath hot against your lips.

"I do always give you what you want, don’t I? Treat you like a fucking queen." His voice was low and rough. "That why you think you can get away with this shit?"

Your lashes fluttered, your hands smoothing up his chest, nails grazing over the tattoos on his arm. Your birthday in Roman numerals.

"You don’t tell me no," you whispered, your lips brushing against his thumb as you spoke. "So I don’t know why you thought you could start today."

Eren exhaled sharply, his hand leaving your throat only to grab your chin, tilting your head further back. His eyes burned into yours, that sharp emerald gaze swimming with a hunger that had your thighs pressing together.

"You know what your problem is, ma?" His fingers slid down, his knuckles grazing your pulse. "You think you run this shit. Think you can act up, go out, put on a little fucking show—"

His voice dropped lower, more dangerous.

"—and I won’t remind you exactly who you belong to."

Your breath hitched, pussy throbbing at the way he was looking at you, at the way he was speaking to you.

"You should," you whispered, lips barely brushing against his. "Remind me, I mean."

Eren growled.

His hands were on you in an instant, gripping your waist, spinning you around so your front pressed against the cold surface of his desk. His fingers curled around the back of your neck, pressing you down slightly, just enough to make you shiver.

"You wanna be a fucking brat?" he muttered, his other hand dragging your dress up your thighs, exposing more and more of your soft, glistening skin. "Act up just to get my attention?"

You smirked against the desk, arching your back slightly. "Worked, didn’t it?"

Eren smacked your ass, hard.

A gasp ripped from your throat, your fingers curling against the desk as your skin burned from the contact.

"Yeah," he murmured, smoothing a palm over the spot he just hit before landing another sharp slap, making you whimper. "Worked real fucking good."

His lips brushed against your ear, his breath warm, sending chills down your spine.

"You just love making me mad, huh, baby?" His fingers dipped between your thighs, sliding against the damp lace of your panties, pressing right against the spot that had you trembling.

You couldn’t fucking speak, not when his fingers were right there, not when he was teasing you like this, his voice deep and smug, knowing exactly what he was doing to you.

"You’re soaked," he hummed, slipping a single finger under the fabric, gliding it through your wetness. "You got yourself this fucking wet dancing for other men?"

You turned your head slightly, your cheek pressed against the desk as you stared up at him, lips parting slightly.

"Nah," you whispered, breathless, needy, bratty. "I got wet thinking about you dragging me back here and fucking me like you should’ve after our date."

Eren’s grip on your neck tightened.

His fingers pressed deeper against your soaked panties, teasing the sensitive bud just enough to make you whimper. "You fucking piss me off," he murmured, voice dark, low.

You turned your head, lips curling into a smirk "You piss me off too Ren," you purred, shifting your hips just enough to grind against his fingers. "But I guess that's why you love me."

Eren inhaled sharply through his nose.

Your panties were ripped off before you could even process it, the lace tearing in his grip before being tossed somewhere across the room. His palm smacked against your bare ass, a sharp sting blossoming where he hit, your thighs twitching at the sensation.

"I spoil you too much."

You hummed, a teasing little sound, looking back at him with half-lidded eyes. "You do."

Eren’s jaw ticked. "Yeah? And this is how you thank me?"

You gave him a little shrug, hips shifting, rubbing your slick folds against the hard outline of his dick through his jeans. "Only want your attention Renny."

Eren grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking your head back just enough to expose your throat, his lips hovering over your ear.

"You had it the second you walked on that stage," he murmured, voice like gravel.

Eren wasted no more time. His belt clinked, the sound making your thighs clench together in anticipation, your breath stalling as you felt the heat of him pressing against you. His free hand gripped your hip, keeping you in place as he slid his cock between your slick folds.

Your lips parted, a soft whimper slipping out as he coated himself in your wetness, dragging his length up and down your folds, teasing your clit just enough to make you squirm.

"Eren," you whined, pushing your hips back, desperate for more, for him.

He exhaled sharply, his fingers digging into your skin. "Fucking slut, just wanted to be drunk on my cock huh?"

You nodded, moaning softly as he pressed the thick head of his cock right against your entrance, so close, but still not enough.

"Say it," he demanded, his grip tightening, his lips brushing against your ear.

You whimpered, your body trembling with need. "I want to be drunk on you."

He groaned, the sound went staright to your cunt, with one rough thrust, he buried himself inside you, stretching you open, filling you up all at once. A choked gasp tore from your throat, fingers scrambling against the surface of the desk, nails digging into the wood.

"Fuck—Eren!" Your voice broke on the last syllable, your walls clenching around him, trying to adjust to the sudden fullness.

His fingers tightened in your hair, keeping your head tilted back, his other hand spreading over your stomach, holding you still.

"You feel that, ma?" he murmured against your ear, voice dark, laced with raw need. "This dick ain’t for nobody else.And you got the nerve to be up there, showing off?"

A moan spilled from your lips as he dragged out of you slowly, the thick length of him pressing against your walls in all the right ways, before he slammed back in, hard enough to make the desk beneath you shake.

"Answer me," he demanded, his palm cracking against your ass, leaving behind a sting that only made the heat between your legs burn hotter.

You whined, gripping the edge of the desk, your body trembling as he set a brutal pace, thrusting into you with deep, punishing strokes that left you breathless.

"I—" You tried to speak, but another thrust had you moaning instead.

Eren clicked his tongue, his grip on your hip tightening, his thumb pressing into the dip of your spine. "Nah, use your words, baby. You had all that attitude before—where is it now?"

Your nails dragged against the desk, your thighs shaking, toes curling in your heels. "Y-you’re right," you finally managed, voice shaky, wrecked. "I was acting up."

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest, but there was no humor in it—just heat. "Damn right you were."

His fingers slid lower, dipping between your thighs, finding your clit and rubbing slow, deliberate circles, a sharp contrast to the way he was fucking you into the desk.

Your entire body jerked, a whimper tumbling from your lips as your walls clenched around him.

Eren groaned, his hips stuttering for just a second before he picked up the pace, hitting that spot inside you that made your vision blur.

"You know I’d give you whatever you want," he murmured, his lips grazing your jaw, his breath hot against your skin.

You barely processed his words—too lost in the feeling of him, the way he stretched you, filled you, owned every inch of you like he had something to prove.

"Tell me you’re mine," he growled, his hand tightening around your throat, his cock throbbing inside you.

Your lips parted, a desperate little whimper escaping as your body arched against him, surrendering completely. "I’m yours, daddy—fuck, I’m yours."

Eren groaned, his hips slamming into you harder, rougher, deeper.

"Yeah," he muttered, voice strained, wrecked. "You fucking are."

His grip on your throat tightened, his fingers pressing into the sides just enough to make your head swim, your breath hitch. He was so fucking deep, splitting you open on his cock, your walls fluttering around him as he pounded into you, using your body just how he wanted.

"Look at you," he gritted, his voice dark, condescending, dripping with heat. His hand tugged your head back, forcing your spine into a deep arch, your chest pressing against the cool wood of his desk. "Acting all high and mighty earlier, bratty as fuck— now you can’t even talk. Can’t even think, huh?"

You whimpered, your fingers curling into fists, your thighs trembling as he fucked you hard, each stroke knocking the air from your lungs, pushing you closer to that sweet, devastating edge.

Eren chuckled, low and taunting. "Nah, don’t get quiet now, ma. You wanted my attention, didn’t you? Thought you could act like a fucking slut in front of all those men and not deal with me?"

A sharp slap to your ass had you gasping, your pussy clenching around him in response.

Eren groaned, his hips faltering for just a second before he snapped back into rhythm, his grip on your throat loosened just enough for his fingers to slide up, gripping your jaw, forcing your head up.

"Look at yourself," he ordered, tilting your chin towards the dark glass of the office window, the faint reflection of your fucked-out expression staring back at you.

Your lips were swollen, glossy, parted. Your mascara was smudged, your hair a mess. Your eyes—half-lidded, hazy, desperate.

Eren grinned. "Such a fucking mess." His hand slipped between your legs again, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing tight, brutal circles. "You like being fucked like this, huh? Like being put in your place?"

You sobbed out a moan, your entire body trembling.

Eren's grip tightened on your jaw, his fingers pressing into your cheeks, forcing your mouth open as he spat onto your tongue.

"Swallow it," he ordered.

And you did. Without hesitation.

Eren groaned, his hips stuttering, his cock twitching inside you. "That’s my fucking girl."

Your walls clamped down around him, your orgasm hitting you hard, sudden, unforgiving. Your body shook, your moans breaking as your climax crashed over you, pleasure swallowing you whole.

Your breathing became staggered, your vision trying to focus as you came down from your high but Eren had other ideas. Your back, ass now hanging off the edge of the desk, Eren spread your legs wide, his head immediately dipping between your thighs.

A broken moan tore from your throat as his tongue found your clit, pressing against you as he licked slow, teasing circles.

Your body arched, legs trembling, hands scrambling for purchase.

"Eren—fuck, oh my God," you gasped, your hips rolling against his mouth, but he only pinned you down harder.

"Be good," he murmured against you, his fingers digging into your thighs, keeping you still. "Take it."

And you did. You took it all— the messy, open-mouthed kisses he pressed against your folds, the way his tongue dipped inside you, teasing, curling, before returning to your clit, flicking against it just right.

It was too much. Your body shook, your mind blanked, your breath caught.

"Fuck, Eren, I—"

You came hard, your thighs squeezing around his head as he groaned against you, licking you through it.

But he didn’t give you time to recover. The second your high began to fade, he was already pressing you into the desk, pushing your legs up until they were practically touching your chest. Putting you in a delicious matting press,

A choked moan left your lips as he slid back inside you, stretching you all over again.

His hips snapped against yours roughly, the sound of skin slapping, your wetness, his growls and your cries filling the room.

"Look at you," he taunted, his lips curling. "Fucking ruined. Just. For. Me."

You could barely breathe, let alone talk back. Your fingers dug into his arms, your body jolting with each punishing thrust.

"You gonna stop acting out?" His hand wrapped around your throat again,

"Yes," you sobbed, the lewd sounds of your pussy and moans filled the room, you knew you had made a mess of the desk, knowing if you managed to get a peak you would see your cream all over his cock.

Eren’s tattooed fingers slipped between your bodies, his thumb rubbing slow, lazy circles over your clit, making you jolt, making you wail.

"E--rennnn." A desperate, breathless cry tore from your lips, your nails raking down his sweat-slick back as the pleasure coiled tight and hot in your belly.

"Yeah, that’s it. Take it."

He angled his hips just right, hitting that spot that had you trembling, shaking, gasping his name like a prayer.

"You gonna come again, sweetheart? Gonna make a mess all over my dick?"

You nodded frantically, helpless, wrecked.

"Please—Eren, fuck—please, I—"

"Do it," he ordered, his thumb pressing down harder, rubbing faster. "Come for me, baby"

You shattered, pleasure crashing over you like a fucking tidal wave, your body clenching, spasming, locking up as the orgasm ripped through you.

Eren cursed, his head dropping against your throat, his own breathing ragged, uneven.

"Fuck—good girl," he murmured against your sweat-damp skin, kissing, biting, licking.

You were soaked, trembling, overstimulated, but Eren kept going. His pace never slowed, never faltered. His cock was still thick, still heavy, still throbbing.

And he wanted more.

His fingers dug into your hips, lifting you, pulling you impossibly closer, forcing your bodies flush together as he fucked you through it, dragging out every last aftershock, every last whimper.

"One more," he murmured, almost soothing, almost sweet. "Just one more, baby."

You whimpered, nails dragging down his back as his pace grew. Your legs trembled from how deep he was, how good he was hitting that spot over and over again, like he was trying to imprint himself inside you.

"Fuck, Eren—I can’t—"

"Yes, the fuck you can," he snarled, his grip tightening on your thighs, forcing them higher, pressing you deeper into the desk.

The change in angle had you screaming, arching, gasping his name.

"That’s it," he groaned, sweat dripping down his temple. "Take it. Take every inch of this dick like the good fucking girl I know you are."

Your body seized up, pleasure snapping through you like a live wire. Your nails dug into his shoulders, your breath caught in your throat as your orgasm ripped through you, violent and all-consuming.

Eren felt it instantly. The way your walls fluttered and clenched around him, your body gripping him like a vice, refusing to let go.

His pace turned sloppy, erratic, desperate, his breathing ragged as he fucked you through your high, chasing his own.

Your name tumbled past his lips, over and over, reverent and raw, his forehead pressing against yours as he lost himself, buried deep.

"Fuck—" Eren gritted his teeth, his hands gripping your hips tight, bruising, before he slammed into you one last time, burying himself deep, his cock pulsing, twitching, spilling inside you.

The silence between you two was calming, your bodies still pressed together, you moaned softly as you felt him shift in you, he pressed a lazy kiss to your jaw.

Your hands trailed up his arms, fingertips ghosting over the ink covering his skin. You smirked, voice breathless, smug.

"I basically got what I wanted."

Eren could feel his eye twitch, you did his head in but you loved you nonetheless. Huffing a laugh, he bit down on your neck causing you to giggle.

"Too damn spoiled."

#black female smut #black fem reader #fanfic #eren x black reader #anime #eren x reader #eren yeager #eren smut #eren jaeger #plug eren x black reader #eren x black fem!reader #eren x black y/n

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themultifanshipper · 2 days ago

Note

Can you write another Jenson smut with a age-gap reader? Please. It’s so hard to find good Jenson stories.

Jenson had desperately needed a replacement teammate for the 24 hours of Le Mans after one of them had fallen ill.

He was starting to regret choosing you for the job.

Warnings: Smut, tension, fingering, massage, age gap, I have limited knowledge of how the 24hrs of Le Mans works so forgive me if there are inaccuracies, I decided to put Fernando as the 3rd teammate because why not, reader is basically 2000s Jenson, tiny plot twist at the end.

wc: 5.7k

Not because you were incompetent or anything, you were very competent.

Almost too competent.

He was perfectly confident in your ability to help him get that damn trophy, but your youth and energy made Jenson feel old.

He didn't know whether it was coffee, or redbull, or fucking cocaine that made you into a nervous ball of energy, but it was unnerving the way you would run literal circles around him all day.

The other problem though, and honestly the main reason he felt old, was that if he'd been a decade younger, he would have definitely fancied himself a chance with you.

You were beautiful, funny, witty… and Jenson hated to admit, very much his type. He had trouble not thinking about you, and about how much you reminded him of himself when he was younger.

His only salvation, he thought, was that you'd never be in the car together, and when neither of you were driving, one of you would definitely be sleeping.

Jenson managed to put the car on pole. Which took a huge weight off your shoulders, and he decided he should be the one to start the race.

Fernando was going to replace him for the second stint, and then you would come in after him. Eight rotations of 3 hours each, you only doing 2 stints because you were the rookie.

It was a foolproof plan. And hopefully Jenson would come out of it without doing anything stupid.

So for the first few hours all you could do was wait. You watched videos on your phone, checked the livestream, got impromptu engineering lessons at the back of the garage, anything you could think of to keep yourself calm while you waited.

This was your first endurance race, and you were in a team with two literal legends… which made you so nervous you felt like you could throw up at any given moment at the thought of disappointing them.

The first driver swap went perfectly, Fernando jumped in and Jenson made his way over to you.

You heart rate sped up when you spotted him.

The reason you were so nervous around him was because he was your idol, and you were terrified of fucking up in front of him.

Also you had a big fat crush on him, but that was just a detail. And right now he was drenched in sweat. It was hot.

I mean it was hot in Le Mans. You know, because it was summer and stuff…

He smiled at you as he made his way over.

“You nervous?” he asked, eyeing the cup of coffee you were holding.

“Yeah” you exhaled shakily “I am terrified of accidentally falling asleep or something”

Jenson laughed. “That's why it's a good idea to sleep while you're not in the car. I for example am going to go take a shower, and a nap”

Your eyes widened in panic.

“But what if there's a problem?! What if we need to do an emergency driver swap! Fernando-“

He slapped his hand over your mouth to stop your rambling.

“That is why you are here.” He tried to reassure you. “And given the size of that coffee, and the fact that you are still in the garage, I'm guessing you have no plans to go to sleep yet. So there's nothing to worry about!” he smiled tiredly, not realising his sweaty palm was still against your skin, partially obscuring the huge blush that was spreading across your face at the contact.

“So chill out, watch a movie, and try to go easy on the coffee, if you start drinking too much now, you won't get to the end, trust me”

He offered you a reassuring smile before retracting his hand and shuffling away, covered in sweat and eager to get back to his room.

You stood there, a blushing mess while the engineer who had been explaining cooling systems to you smirked knowingly.

“Don't say a fucking word” you muttered.

He threw his hands up in surrender, but his smirk stayed firmly in place while he watched you slink away in embarrassment.

Jenson had lied.

Well, partially. His shower was great, but he was way too hopped up on adrenaline to go to sleep.

He just didn't want to stick around the garage while you were there. He was already cringing at himself whenever he replayed the moment his sweaty, greasy palm made contact with your skin.

Why the fuck had he done that?

He set the stream up on his tablet so that he could keep informed on what was going on, and decided to scroll through instagram to pass the time.

Within seconds he ended up on your profile, scrolling through the already too familiar photos.

He clicked on your story to see the video (that he'd already seen 100 times that day) of you filming him and Fernando.

The camera panned to Fernando first and your voice crackled through the phone speakers.

“Fernando Alonso! How are you feeling about todays race?! Nervous? Excited?!”

Fernando's laughter echoed in the room.

“Me and Jenson have done this several times, we are used to it. I should be asking you the question!”

The camera turned back to catch your face as you rolled your eyes. “Riiiight I forgot I was racing with a pair of old men!”

“Hey!” Jenson heard his own voice shout, and your face lighting up while you turned the camera towards him.

“Is that… 2009 Formula One world Champion Jenson Button?! I think it is!” you laughed at his failure to keep a straight face at your antics.

“Jenson Button! Huge fan! Could you sign something for me?!”

Video Jenson rolled his eyes at you.

“I'll tell you what, help me win that trophy and I'll see what I can do”

You gasped, turning to the camera with an evil grin.

“You heard it here first folks! If I win Le Mans, Jenson Button is going to sign my ass!”

“That is NOT WHAT I SAI-“

The last few seconds of the video were Jenson and you grappling for the phone while a blurry Fernando facepalmed in the background.

For Fernando to be the adult of the team was… unexpected.

But you just brought out that side in Jenson, and he almost felt like he was back in F1 again, young and fun and-

Well, sadly the time of being able to fuck his teammates was over.

He was brought out of his thoughts when your name was said on the livestream.

His head whipped up and there you were.

“She hasn't left the garage. Jenson and Fernando's fellow driver, a rookie, is seemingly too excited to sleep and seems to have joined what looks like a human pyramid with some of the engineers…”

Jenson's jaw dropped.

Someone was giving you a lift up so that you could climb to the top of a pile of engineers.

“She seems to be a breath of fresh air around the paddock, I will admit. I'm sure everyone has seen her story on instagram by now, where she teases poor Jenson. You just don't really see drivers having that sort of fun anymore do you?”

Jenson watched in horror as you jumped off the top and into the arms of a waiting engineer.

You then spotted the cameraman that was filming you and ran over to kiss the lense and smile evilly.

A shiver ran up Jenson's spine.

“Speaking of Jenson, I wonder why he isn't in the garage with her. In any case she reminds me a lot of him when he was in Formula One. They have that same fire and hunger that drives their wild child nature.”

Jenson had seen enough. He put on some clothes and wandered back to the track.

That way he could be there for you during your stint and Fernando could have a nap before replacing you again. Or that's what he told himself, really he just wanted to be with you and have a bit of fun.

As soon as you saw him step into the garage you grinned mischievously at him and waved.

You’d just started a game of scrabble on a table in the back with a couple of the engineers.

“I saw that, you know” he was hitting the dad pose next to you as he eyed the board.

“Saw what?” you smiled, putting down the word ‘cat’ for 5 points.

“The human pyramid. Can you imagine how much shit we would be in if you'd fallen and hurt yourself?”

“But I didn't fall, so… we're all good” you smiled up at him.

Jenson spotted the coffee cup next to you.

“How many of those have you had since I left?”

“Just the one, dad” you rolled your eyes at him.

“It should have been none. Mark my words you will be exhausted if you can't sleep before your second stint.”

“Oh is Mark here? I didn't see him!” you looked around the garage sarcastically while the other two chuckled.

Jenson did not laugh. At least not on the outside.

Your cheeky grin had a way of piercing through his defences and his resolve crumbled.

“I hate you”

“You won't feel that way when I get you that trophy and you're forced to sign my butt”

“I will not be doing that” he grumbled, the idea of going anywhere near your ass was enough to make him tense.

You took a sip of your coffee, peering at him over the rim of the cup.

“We'll see…”

It was time, Fernando was about to come in and you were going to hop into his seat and speed off into the night.

It was impossible to tell who was more nervous, you or Jenson.

“You'll do fine”

“What if I crash?”

“Then we'll lose. So don't crash”

Your leg was bouncing nervously.

Fernando's headlights appeared at the end of the pitlane and your heart skipped a beat.

Jenson slapped your helmet playfully and as the car screeched to a halt, you wrenched the door open and swapped places with Fernando.

With new tyres and a body full of nerves and caffeine, you drove off as fast as you could (within the speed limit of course) and rejoined the track.

Jenson watched you go and didn't even register Fernando sniggering at the look on his face.

“She will be fine, Jenson. She knows what she's doing. The adrenaline will eventually wear off and she will fall asleep as soon as she gets out of the car”

Jenson sure hoped so.

Fernando went to take a nap, because he was going in again after you.

Jenson couldn't sleep though. He watched your onboards nervously while devouring a chicken sandwich.

You were doing well. The track was cold, but dry so as long as you didn't get your lines wrong you weren't at a risk of slipping.

But he could tell all that coffee was getting to you.

Firstly because 45 minutes in you told your race engineer you needed a piss. Which was answered with a laugh and a comment about not being allowed to pee in the car.

Secondly because he knew your body language, and you were always a bit hyper for sure, but the way your fingers kept tapping at the wheel and how much you were fidgeting definitely wasn't normal.

Then your voice came over the radio.

“Is Jenson still in the garage?”

Your race engineer sighed and answered that yes, he was.

“Jenson if you can hear me, you should go to bed, old man”

Jenson scoffed at the nickname and then his heart rate picked up at the fact that you were thinking about him in the car.

He tried to tell himself it didn't mean anything. After all, when you spend 3 hours alone in a car, your mind will go anywhere to keep itself occupied.

But he couldn't help the butterflies in his stomach.

By the end of your 3 hours, you had mentioned Jenson a total of seven times, and each one had gotten more laughs throughout the garage than the last.

Fernando was ready to swap when you came careening into the pitlane, and off he went with new tyres and a good luck slap on the back from you.

You immediately jumped into Jenson's arms and he was surprised that you were still this full of energy.

Either you had the slowest metabolism on earth or you really were just that excited.

“I did it! I survived!” you laughed excitedly and Jenson could feel his heart pumping in his chest when he realised how nice it was having you so close to him.

“You sure did, now I recommend you have a shower and a big long nap before your second stint”

You pulled your helmet off and sighed with relief.

“A shower sounds nice, but there's no way I am going to be able to sleep”

He chuckled. ‘Yeah, right’ he thought as he watched you practically sprint away.

You were right. After your shower you went straight back to the garage, where Jenson was watching Fernando's onboard.

He did a double take when he saw you.

“Absolutely not, go and sleep. You have 6 hours until you need to be in the car”

You looked at him guiltily.

“I can't. I'm too excited to sleep”

Jenson sighed, rubbing his face in frustration.

“Come with me”

You followed him out, and he lead you to his drivers room.

It was quite cozy. He'd brought lots of pillows and blankets which were strewn all over the bed.

You stepped inside nervously, not knowing what he was planning.

“Lie down”

You hesitated.

“On the bed?”

He gave you an unimpressed look.

“No, on the floor. Of course on the bloody bed”

You scoffed and did as you were told, watching Jenson warily as he unfolded a blanket and draped it over you.

“You are not allowed out of this room until you've had a nap, understood? I don't care how you do it. Put some white noise on, count sheep, have a wank, whatever but I want you asleep within the hour”

You couldn’t help the way your stomach fluttered at his words and his forceful tone.

“You… want me to have a wank… on your bed?”

“Whatever works for you” and with that he turned on his heel and stormed out the door.

You were speechless, that was an insane interaction.

You lay down, and stared at the ceiling, trying to slow your heart rate down.

Jenson had to be joking. There's no way he actually thought you would do that, right?

A shiver ran down your spine. You were contemplating it, after all you knew he was right about you needing to sleep.

But you knew that wasn't going to happen. Not just because of the coffee and excitement, but because now your head was swimming with Jenson's words and dominant display. There isn't much you wouldn’t do to hear him order you around like that again.

You decided to take his advice.

It didn't work.

Try as you might to get off, it only made you more antsy and you felt bad thinking about Jenson while you touched yourself.

You thought about him, his hands, the way he was drenched after his first stint, the way he dragged you out of the garage.

You felt hot all over, but your fingers weren't doing much to satisfy the need between your legs.

You looked at the time.

00:57

You'd been tossing and turning for close to an hour now, and still you were no closer to getting off, or getting to sleep.

You decided to send Jenson a text.

“It's not working”

Jenson groaned in frustration, rubbing his eyes after reading that.

He'd spent the better part of the hour trying to forget the fact that you may, or may not, be getting off in his bed.

He had no way of knowing and it made his skin crawl.

‘Shrodinger's orgasm?’ he thought unhelpfully while his fingers typed out a response.

“You mean…?”

“Yeah… I just cant do it, Jenson. I'm too wired up”

“Ok…I have an idea”

He glanced at the clock.

01:03

He had just under two hours until he needed to be in the car.

He barged into the room unceremoniously, making you jump.

“On your stomach, top off, I'm going to give you a massage. It's the only thing I can think of to relax you”

Your eyes widened in surprise and he waved a hand dismissively.

“Don't worry I won't… look. Just trust me, you need to sleep. If you don't you're putting yourself in danger, and the team.”

You took your shirt off and did as you were told while he grabbed a bottle of oil from his bag.

“And you just happened to have that with you?”

He glared at you and made his way over to the bed.

“Shut up and close your eyes.”

‘Yes sir’ you thought. Your heart was beating out of your chest. Jenson was about to give you a massage.

It felt like you were dreaming, the object of your affections was climbing on top of you to straddle your hips and put his hands on you. His wondeful, big, strong hands. He was going to touch you. Jenson Button was going to make you feel good.

Your cheeks heated at the thought.

You were so in your head that you didn't notice his hands on your skin until he spoke up.

“Relax… you’re so tense. Close your eyes and take a breath. Concentrate on my voice”

You took a deep breath in and let it out slowly as you felt his fingers dig into your shoulders.

He spread oil all over your back, pressing his thumbs in circles up and down the sides of your spine.

It was a surprisingly quick process, you felt yourself relaxing into his touch the longer he pressed into your back.

Then he pressed down on a knot.

You'd been successful so far at hiding your noises, but the sudden mix of pain and pleasure was so intense you let a shaky moan slip out.

Jenson's hands froze on your back.

“Don't stop” you gasped “It feels good”

You were desperate, the heat between your legs was only getting worse and you felt like you would die if Jenson stopped touching you.

Jenson had to bite back a groan at your pathetic whimper.

He was in over his head. This was a terrible idea, what had he been thinking? This was wildly inappropriate, you were his teammate for god's sake, not to mention how young you were and he was clearly taking advantage of you while you-

“Jenson, please”

“What do you need?” he rasped, resolve quickly slipping and he could feel his body reacting.

“Touch me” you gasped “Please”

Those words sent a fire throughout his body and satisfaction purred in his chest. His hands trailed over your sides teasingly, roaming over your bare skin and you arched your back at the touch.

“That's not what I mean and you know it” you whined.

He just chuckled and leaned over you to growl in your ear.

“Then be a good girl and tell me what you want”

“I want you to touch me” you whispered, feeling his weight shifting on top of you “I need you. Inside me, please”

Jenson felt like he'd been punched in 5he gut. His lips travelled over the skin of your upper back and you could feel the smirk on them.

“Need me, hmm? Need me to tire you out? Maybe a couple of orgasms'll do the trick…”

You nodded desperately, lifting your hips so that he could reach under you and help you out of your pants.

“Please, I need you so bad.”

He gazed at your body in awe as you spread your legs and arched into him when you felt a finger dip into your wetness.

“Is this where you need me, love?” he teased, pushing the finger in to the knuckle “So wet for me, all from a massage?”

“Don't flatter yourself” you bit back “I spent an hour before this trying to get off”

He hummed, slipping a second finger inside you.

“Tell me, what were you thinking about that got you this wet, hmm?” he asked, and he pressed the pads of his fingers against your g-spot insistently while his thumb went to rub harsh circles on your sensitive clit.

You let out a low moan and cursed as you felt the familiar tingling in your gut.

“Fuck - I'm close, don't stop!”

“I'm not letting you come unless you tell me what you were thinking about, darling” he smirked.

The idea of being denied after being riled up for so long made you cry out in desperation

“You! Fuck! You, Jenson” you cried out as you felt the first wave of your orgasm approach.

“Really?” he couldn't deny the twitch of his cock in his shorts at the mental image of you picturing him to get off. “What about me, specifically?”

“Your hands!” You panted, “Your hand are… fuck- they're so fucking…”

Jenson grinned, speeding up his movements.

“You mean the hands that are making you feel good right now? The hands that are about to make you come like a good girl?”

You choked back a sob and your thighs twitched as you came in waves on his talented fingers.

Once you went limp he helped you turn over and spread your legs, licking his lips at the mess between them.

He didn't let you recover, and instead dived in, lapping up your juices like he'd wanted to do pretty much since he met you.

He had to hold you down because you were squirming away from the onslaught of his mouth in overstimulation.

He pressed his fingers back inside you and hooked them upwards.

Your back arched at the overwhelming sensation. He was making you feel incredible, and you threaded your fingers through his hair, not sure whether you wanted to push him away or pull him closer.

“Oh fuck, Jenson” your head was thrown back in ecstasy while he worked his magic.

Your thighs clamped around his head, and it wasn't long before you were babbling nonsense as a fresh wave of arousal coursed through you.

The constant pressure of his fingers inside you was making your body vibrate with pleasure and a new kind of feeling crept up your spine.

It was much more intense than before, a sharp sensation curling in your gut before it unravelled, and before you knew it you were soaking Jenson's hand as you gushed all over him.

He couldn't believe it, but he eagerly lapped up all that he could while he coaxed you through your orgasm.

You lay there trying to catch your breath while he pulled the duvet off the bed and fetched a new one, careful not to disturb you too much while you recovered.

You felt utterly boneless, and you didn't even realise your eyes were closing of their own volition. before you passed out.

Jenson chuckled, happy that the endorphins had overridden whatever amount of coffee you'd drank. He shuffled around the room, putting the bottle of oil back in his bag, and making sure you had an alarm set on your phone just in case.

You were supposed to get back in the car at six o'clock, and it was currently just after two.

That left you enough time to have a good long nap before your stint, and Jenson had time to go and freshen up (and take care of the throbbing problem in his pants) before he needed to replace Fernando.

The swap went fine, not that you'd know, you were completely out for three whole hours, and Jenson could have some time to reflect on what had happened in his drivers room.

He really didn't know what had come over him. If someone had told him something like this would happen he would have smacked them across the face.

He'd promised himself he wouldn't try anything. There were two decades between you two, and the more he thought about it the guiltier he felt.

To the point where his race engineer asked him if he was okay because he was uncharacteristically quiet.

You woke up in a cold sweat.

You had no idea how long you were out for, and the thought of somehow missing the race filled you with panic.

But when you glanced at your phone, which was ringing incessantly with your alarm, you saw that it was half five in the morning.

You sighed and got up, fishing around for your clothes. It was only when you went to grab a race suit from the cabinet that it hit you.

Those suits were way too big for you, this was not your room, and…

Oh yeah, Jenson had fingered you to sleep.

There wasn't really any other way of putting it, really.

Fucking hell. Jumping in the car after Jenson was going to be awkward as fuck, not to mention you were going to have to speak to him like a normal human being after all this.

As if Jenson fucking Button hadn't just… Jesus.

A knock at the door interrupted your train of thought.

Fernando's head peeked in and he eyed the room suspiciously.

“You okay in… here?”

You nodded, and assured him you'd be out in a minute.

You rushed to your own driver’s room and put your suit on, feeling your limbs lagging behind.

You needed coffee. Or a redbull or something, you couldn't drive in this state.

You ran back to the garage and looked at the time.

05:41

You had time for a cup of coffee and for it to kick in before the swap.

Fernando appeared next to you while you sat at the scrabble table, gazing at where a dozen engineers were sleeping on little camp beds and mats in a corner.

“So… were you so tired after your stint that you accidentally fell into the wrong bed?”

You blushed behind your cup.

“Something like that” you muttered and he smirked.

You watched the stream, getting up to date with the places. Your team were still ahead, and by quite a margin.

You could tell Fernando was excited about the prospect of having a fully dominant race, but it was much too early to call. The race was only halfway done.

You got ready to jump in the car, and by the time Jenson came into the pits, you felt re-energised and ready to go.

During your time out on track, your mind wandered back to Jenson's room.

You were going to have to talk to him about it at some point. You couldn't avoid him forever, and his friendship meant a lot to you.

Jenson was exhausted. He hadn't slept at all yet, and he was doing another stint in 3 hours, so as soon as he got out he made a beeline to his room and completely passed out.

Your stint went fine, and the following swap from you to Jenson went fine, despite how tired he was. Everything was going according to plan.

Fernando had slept all through your stint, and most of Jenson's.

His hair was sticking up in different directions and the seam of his pillow was imprinted onto his cheek, but he looked incredibly happy that Jenson was still firmly in the lead.

When Jenson came into the pits for the final driver swap, you and Fernando were all but buzzing with excitement.

This was it. If Fernando managed to stay in front, you would win the race.

You were going to be a 24 of Le Mans winner. As a rookie, as a replacement driver, and more importantly as a woman, you were going to prove to everyone you were worthy.

Jenson needed help getting his helmet off.

He slumped against the wall and you had to help him to his drivers room.

You lay him down, unzipping his suit just enough to cool him down a bit and got him a glass of fresh cold water.

You were going to leave him to it, but he grabbed your wrist and pulled you back to sit on the edge of the bed.

You gave him a questioning look and he sighed.

“We need to talk”

Your gaze travelled around the room.

"Yeah… Do we have to do it right now though?”

“We've got three hours to kill, might as well…”

It was your turn to sigh.

“I suppose…”

You scooted closer to him on the bed and he took your hands in his.

“First of all, I shouldn’t have done what I did earlier. It was selfish of me to take advantage of you like that…”

Your mouth hung open, utterly bewildered.

“Take advantage? Jenson I asked you to… I wanted it just as much as you did.”

He blinked at you.

“But… still… it wasn't appropriate.”

“Do you regret it?” you asked, suddenly self-conscious.

He melted and stroked your thigh soothingly.

“No! No of course not, but-”

“Neither do I” you interrupted “So there's nothing for you to feel bad about. I want you, Jenson”

You gently slid a hand in his fireproofs, feeling the firm muscle underneath, and the hot dampness from his sweat.

“You're all sweaty” you remarked, hand travelling lower.

His eyes were fixed on yours, pupils expanding quickly the lower your hand went.

“Yeah… I need a shower” he rasped.

“Well… we’re both going to get dirty anyway getting sprayed with champagne on the podium later” you murmured, leaning down so your face was hovering over his. “So we could wait until after, and then scrub each other clean…”

Your lips barely brushed his but he groaned, partly at the image of your body soaking wet and naked. He didn't have a preference whether it was from champagne or soapy water.

“Sounds good to me” he whispered, going cross eyed when he glanced down at your lips.

“It's a date, then” you smiled. “In the meantime… why don't I thank you for helping me get to sleep ”

You grinned into the kiss, hands roaming under his fireproofs.

You both somehow managed to get all of your layers off without separating and once you were both naked, he carried you over to a wall and held you up against it.

“This is gross, we're both disgusting.” He moaned as you pulled on his hair roughly.

“I don't care. I need you to fuck me Jenson”

He let out a shaky breath at that, and lined himself up with where you were dripping against his lower abdomen.

“God are you just… always this wet?” he looked down in awe at his tip sliding into you.

“Only when you're around” you smirked.

Something about that sentence made something dark settle in his stomach, and without further ado he slid into you.

His cock stretched you out perfectly and you scratched at the wall for purchase as he started fucking into you with fervour.

He pressed his body against yours, mouthing at your neck while he snapped his hips. It was like he was in some kind of trance, all previous exhaustion forgotten as he buried himself inside you repeatedly.

Soon enough your neck was covered in marks and you could feel your flesh bruising where his fingers dug into it to hold you up.

He didn't tease you this time, he let you come and fucked you through it with determination. Not stopping until you were a shaking, begging mess in his arms.

He dropped you back on the bed and instructed you to hold your legs open for him.

He had a dark look in his eyes as he fisted his cock with intent, aiming for your leaking cunt and the backs off your thighs.

He almost lost balance with how hard he came at the sight of you all pliant under him.

Satisfaction purred in his chest as he gazed at you, covered in his streaks of cum. It made him slightly feral if he was honest.

The two of you cleaned up with a wet towel and curled up under the blankets for a while. There was still a couple of hours left.

“So tell me” you started, fingers swirling through the thin patch of hair on his chest. “How many of your teammates have you slept with?”

He chuckled, amused by your question. “Including you?”

“Yeah”

He quickly glanced towards his tablet, where Fernando's onboard was playing.

“Three.” He said.

___

“So the race is soon coming to a close, and the Hertz team are looking to have been completely dominant this time around. Yet Jenson and his dear rookie teammate aren't in the garage during this closing stage… I can only hope they’re sleeping.”

“Together, perhaps?”

“I wouldn't care to speculate… but…..”

___

“What do you mean three? How is that even possible..."

Your voice died in your throat as you glanced back towards the stream in disbelief.

“No! You fucked Fernando?” you couldn't help a small smirk of amazement creeping onto your face.

“Well actually he fucked me but y-”

“WHAT?!”

___

The champagne tasted like shit, as usual.

But the pure joy of being soaked in it after an impressive win was truly something else.

You were excited for a shower that was for sure. You couldn't wait to get the sticky feeling off of your skin.

Fernando and Jenson had you on their shoulders while the engineers generously sprayed the three of you.

Jenson was so happy he did in fact grab a marker to sign your ass over your race suit, which got whoops and cheers from everyone around.

And of course the fact that you were going to have not one, but two hot older men to help you get the tricky spots… was a definite bonus.

Yes, two. Because after all, poor Fernando didn't have anyone to shower with, and you didn't want him to feel left out of the celebrations.

#my thots #jenson thots #jenson button x reader #jenson button smut #jenson button #f1 #formula 1 #request

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voitier · 3 days ago

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𝒾𝓃 𝓌𝒽𝒾𝒸𝒽... your angel of a boyfriend always respected your wishes and boundaries. but what happens when you feel your resolutions slowly crumble to the ground?

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝒶𝒾𝓃𝓈... [smut!] teasing, making out, mentions of dry humping, fingering, reader's first time, softdom!gguk × inexperienced!reader, gentle sex, mentions of discomfort during penetration.

▸ 𝓔𝓷𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓱 𝓲𝓼 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓶𝔂 𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓼𝓽 𝓵𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓾𝓪𝓰𝓮

▸ 𝔀.𝓬: 2𝓴 +

There were certain things you absolutely loved about your boyfriend, like the way his eyes lit up in excitement when you cooked him his favourite meal, or the way his natural non-toxic masculine energy immediately put you at ease, making you slide into your soft feminine energy naturally. This was probably one of the first things you noticed even before you got together, slowly becoming aware of how well you fit into a balanced dynamic that you both felt comfortable in.

But, most of all, you loved the way he never pushed you to do things you weren't keen on doing, never made you feel like you had to something for him "because he said so", never forced anything. Always treated you so well, so gently, so lovingly. He held you at night tight enough like he was afraid you would slip from his arms, but also so delicately like he was scared he could break you if he made a tiny mistake, the same way glass shatters to the ground if you're not careful enough.

So it shouldn't have been a surprise when you told him you weren't ready to have sex just yet, tears striking down your face in fear he would leave you right then and there, and he didn't even appear to be annoyed by that. If anything, he ran you a warm bubble bath, hugging you from behind while cuddling you and whispering sweet nothings to reassure you that no, he wouldn't leave you for that and yes, he would wait as long as you needed.

"Thank you," you had whispered, sniffling softly as the sobs finally subdued. Jungkook gathered the bubbles in the palm of his hand, blowing them in your face. His expression visibly relaxed as you giggled, wiping the scented bubbles that landed on the tip of your nose.

"Princess, I don't want you to feel pressured about doing anything with me, got that? I could never leave you, I love you too much. Also, your cute little face got me wrapped around your pinky."

A few months had passed from that moment, and he had kept his promise. This doesn’t mean that you never shared moments of intimacy, but rather that you both opted for things that you liked and were comfortable in, like grinding while making out, or giving and receiving oral. And you always felt so at ease, so sure that he would never take advantage of you in any way or form.

But as time went on, you felt your resolutions slowly crumble to the ground: it all started with following him on set, watching mesmerized as he posed for the camera. He was magnificent in his expressions, in his demeanor, in the way he rocked the outfits given by the CK company. He was confident, alluring, his muscles moving in a way that made you feel tingly all over. His eyes caught yours, crouched on the chair behind the camera, trying to be invisible to the eyes of all the professionals that hurriedly walked around you. You watched as a weird glint sparkled in his eyes, his lips curling in a knowing smirk briefly before he snapped back into character, leaving you a flustered, breathless mess. You weren’t entirely sure, but after that it looked like he posed even sexier for the camera, manipulating his body so that it could allure you in the same way a siren’s song allures pirates before devouring them. and god, did it work…

You shifted around uncomfortably, fiddling with your phone, looking around at anything to tear your eyes from your boyfriend, trying to ignore the wetness pooling between your legs. and Jungkook took notice of every effort you made to hide your need, quite amused by it all. Soon after, the director called for the end of the day, screaming loud enough for everyone to hear “good job, guys, see you tomorrow!”, clapping his hands and stopping by the photographer to discuss something about the lightning of some photos.

Jungkook shrugged his shoulders, stretching his body to relax his tensed limbs before making his way to you, chuckling darkly when he noticed you acting like you weren’t paying any attention to him. he leaned over you, trapping you between his arms as his lips hovered your ear. “What's wrong, princess?” he purred, nibbling softly your earlobe. Your breath struck in your throat at his sultry tone, and you prayed he couldn’t hear your heart thrumming in your chest, or your hands shaking by your side. You felt like you were floating in a bubble where nothing mattered aside from his presence, and his musky cologne that clouded your senses and made your head dizzy. You closed your eyes breathing it in, parting your lips slightly to let out a soft breath.

Jungkook hummed pleased at your responsiveness, cupping your jaw with his warm hand. He traced your bottom lip with his thumb, staring at it almost as if hypnotised by his own action, pulling it down softly before murmuring “let’s go home, princess”, a tinge of urgency lacing his words.

The drive home was probably the quickest you’ve ever been in, with Jungkook’s foot slamming the pedal to the ground, one hand grabbing possessively your thigh and fingers touching where you most need him with featherlight pressure. As soon as the car pulled into the driveway Jungkook was quick to pick you up and bring you inside, pushing your back against the door as soon as it closed behind you.

His lips immediately found yours, pulling you into a desperate kiss. He gently pulled your hair at the back of your neck, angling your face better in order to deepen the kiss. You moaned, the sound swallowed by your boyfriend’s lips, hands tugging at his shirt to take it off. Jungkook pulled back slightly, groaning at the sight of your swollen red lips and hooded eyes. “Bedroom?” he asked, throwing his shirt on the ground.

“Yes, please” you whispered, following him around the house as more kissing and more stripping occurred, ending up in the bedroom already half naked and even more worked up than before. You wiggled out of the shirt that covered your chest and your panties-clad bottom, straddling your boyfriend’s lap as he sat against the headboard.

“C’mon, princess, you know what to do” he said, hands holding your thighs firmly while you rocked back and forth, whimpering as his still clothed boner provided the perfect friction against your aching clit. “Want… more,” you cried out, hips rutting desperately. Jungkook’s lips latched on your skin, sucking deep purple spots all over your neck and collarbones. “Yeah?” he asked against your flesh, “what is it that you want, princess?”

Your cheeks burned at the embarrassment, yet it didn’t stop you from whimpering “want you inside me”. You felt your boyfriend’s body tense beneath you, his kissing stopping on the spot. His hand cupped your jaw, keeping you in place as his eyes locked with yours. “What did you say, princess?”

If possible, you felt your whole body catch on fire just from his tone alone, trying to divert your gaze as you repeated shyly “want… want you inside me. Please”. You swore you felt his cock throbbing at your words, his pupils completely blown out in lust. The fingers that held your jaw twitched briefly before he asked “you’re sure, princess?”, struggling to hide the restraint in his voice. You nodded, rocking your hips tentatively to spur him on.

He bit his lip, trying to hold back the smile that threatened to break over his face. He failed at that, though, and a happy giggle escaped his lips as he switched your position, letting you fall on the soft pillows, your back landing on the mattress. He showered your face in excited kisses before he finally calmed down, a serious expression on his face. “Promise you’ll tell me if I'm hurting you or if you want to stop”. You smiled, nodding your head. “Pinky promise”. And just like that he was on you again, reaching a hand behind your back to flick your bra off your chest, sighing in pleasure once he cupped your breast in his hand, gently rolling your nipple between his thumb and pointer finger.

“Always looking so pretty,” he purred, reaching a hand down to unzip his pants, trying to take some pressure off his painfully hard member. He groaned, muttering a small “fuck,” before lowering his head on your torso, kissing his way down all the way to your panties. He pressed a hand on your thigh, keeping you spread over in front of his eyes. He smirked pleased at the wet patch on the baby blue fabric of your thong, rubbing his thumb up and down your clothed slit, then pressing his finger on your clit. “Oh fuck- please, Kook,” you moaned, bucking your hips up to gain some more friction.

“Patience, princess,” he whispered, blowing softly on your clothed sex. You gasped at the feeling, trying to press your thighs back together, but you were stopped by Jungkook’s firm grasp that pinned you to the bed. “How sensitive,” he chuckled, teasingly licking a stripe up the drenched fabric. You whimpered, a string of pleas falling repeatedly from your plush lips as you grew progressively more desperate for more.

“Oh I know, I know, princess,” he cooed, hooking his fingers under the waistband of your panties and pulling them down, throwing them somewhere on the floor. “Gonna make you feel so nice,” he continued, stopping to admire your glistening folds, all wet and leaking just for him. He ran his pointer finger between your folds, gathering your moisture before slowly slipping the finger in.

“Oh-” you gasped, closing your eyes as Jungkook’s finger stroked your walls, curling it just right. “Gonna put another one in,” he murmured, slipping another finger in. A loud moan escaped your lips, spurring your boyfriend to move in quicker and deeper movements, his fingers hitting repeatedly your g-spot almost as if in a quest to let you release as many sounds as possible. Slick sounds and ragged breaths filled the room, your mind clouding into a hazy state. The bands in your stomach threatened to snap at any moment now, your walls fluttering around Jungkook’s fingers.

Said man, of course, wanted to toy with you a little longer before giving you the relief you needed, and that’s why he immediately pulled his fingers out, chucking darkly at your disappointed whines. He slipped the same two fingers in his mouth, moaning around them as your juices dripped on his tongue. “Always taste so good,” he groaned, leaning down to kiss you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. “Think you’re ready for me, princess?”

You nodded eagerly, though you couldn’t hide the nervousness pricking at the back of your neck. “Can you just… be gentle? Like, a lot? Pretty please”.

“Of course, princess, you don’t even have to ask. We’re gonna take it nice and slow, yeah?” of course there was no doubt that Jungkook already planned on taking it easy with you, nevertheless the confirmation was much needed for you, helping your nerves ease even a tiny bit.

The man sat back on his knees, taking off his pants and briefs in one go. Even though it wasn’t the first time you had seen him completely naked, you couldn’t help but stare at him mesmerised. He was just that good looking, his body built the same way the greeks carved their most beloved statues. Your mouth ran dry at the sight, and your hands itched to explore every inch of flesh.

Jungkook leaned back down, caging your head between his arms. He stroked your cheek lovingly, kissing you softly before asking “Do you want me to put a condom on?”

You shook your head, whispering “I’m still on the pill, it’s fine. Wanna feel you raw”. Your boyfriend closed his eyes at the confession, your desire of feeling him bare both arousing and touching. “Okay,” his hand reached between your bodies, holding his member in a firm grasp as he ran his almost purplish tip over your folds, gathering your wetness.

“Oh god,” you choked out, your walls clenching around nothing. Finally, Jungkook aligned his cock with your entrance, looking at your face one last time before slowly pushing it in, holding you closer to his chest as you gasped in discomfort. “Kook…ngh, wait…”

“I got you, princess,” he cooed, stopping his motion immediately. He stroked your hair, and he didn’t even wince when you bit his bicep to ignore the discomfort between your hips. “‘s alright, love. I promise it’s gonna feel nice really soon, hold tight for me”.

You nodded, taking a shaky breath in before your boyfriend pushed a couple more inches or so inside you, settling deep before he stilled his movements, waiting for you to give him permission to do anything. Despite the uncomfortable sensation, you couldn’t ignore how full you felt and how good it felt to have him nestled inside your walls completely bare, allowing you to feel even the littlest throb. Meanwhile, your angel of a boyfriend did everything in his hold to distract you, from kissing your lips to nibbling your earlobe, wanting you to feel good yet feeling guilty because he couldn’t do anything to let the pain subside faster.

“Mmh- Kook… I think you can move now,” you croaked out, catching Jungkook’s attention. The man whispered a soft “okay,” then locked your lips in a slow and passionate kiss as he began moving, pulling out almost entirely before pushing back in, over and over again. Soon, you whimpers of discomfort turned into moans of pleasure, and Jungkook followed you by example. Noises of skin slapping skin echoed in the bedroom, almost harmonising with your moans and grunts.

“Princess… can I- fuck, can I go faster?” you nodded again, throwing your head against the pillows as Jungkook’s hips picked up their pace, almost snapping against your body. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, jaw hanging low while your boyfriend got drunk on the sight, hissing as he felt himself approaching his orgasm at light’s speed. His hand reached down, toying with your clit to bring you closer to your finish line. However, he almost lost it all when you let out a loud, almost pornographic, moan, your walls sucking him in greedily.

His brows furrowed in concentration, determined to make you cum before he did. “C’mon, princess, give it to me,” he grunted, applying the right pressure to your clit to make you completely unravel under him, whimpering and shaking as your walls fluttered around his dick. “Fuck!” he exclaimed, pulling out just in time to spill his warm milky white cum on your tummy, decorating your skin in ropes of white.

He laid beside you with a huff, scanning your body with his eyes to check that everything was alright. He took a strand of hair falling onto your eyes and lovingly pushed it behind your ear, smiling at you softly as you opened your eyes back. “Doing alright, love?”

You hummed, feeling too weak to mutter out anything. Your body still shook with the aftershocks of your orgasm, and you felt your sensitive sex still pulsing uncomfortably, but overall you felt great, and your mind wasn’t running miles per hour for once.

Jungkook pulled you in closer, wrapping his arms around you, holding you tight. “C’mon, I’ll run us a bath. You’ve been so good, I love you so much, princess.”

⭒ a.n: first fic on here! let me know what you guys think, I'm so excited!

#© voitier #bts jungkook #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts #bts fic #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jeongguk #jeon jeongguk #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook imagine #jungkook smut #jungkook bts #jung kook #bts smau #bts jk #bts x reader #bts army

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