#but it’s getting late and I’m getting hungry

[guksfairy]

pink digital camera | JJK

SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST | PLAYLIST

wc: 2.6k

notes: jk and y/n's friends meet, hyeonjae and areum crushing on each other <3, nsfw: they fuck in a parking lot, jk records y/n, jk cums in y/n (STAY SAFE PLEASE)

“Fuck I’m so hungry,”

“I’d assume so-we’ve been trying to get you out of your studio for the past 2 hours,” Hyeonjae responds to Tag with a chuckle. The two, in front of Jungkook and Jungwon, on their way to Jungkook’s car. It had been a good while since the four friends have been able to have a proper meal together so they took advantage. It took a long time to convince Tag to leave his studio but eventually they succeeded.

Finally reaching the car, the four friends get in with Jungkook as the driver of course.

“Yo JK what’s this?” Hyeonjae, who was sat in the passenger seat, asks holding a pink digital camera. Your pink digital camera. Fuck.

You must have forgotten it in his car from when you both went on a picnic late in the evening to watch the sunset near the Han River. You had commented to Jungkook how you had seen a TikTok of a girl and her boyfriend who bought a camera just to capture their dates and thought it was a cute idea. So after a quick trip to the store, and a couple thousand won later, you had started filming your dates.

Jungkook is taken away from his thoughts when he hears a jingle next to him signaling that the camera had been turned on. Hyeonjae, who was intrigued and looking at the camera’s quality, was completely oblivious to the panic set on Jungkook’s face.

“Is it yours?” Tag asks from the backseat and Jungkook is quick to grab the camera from Hyeonjae’s grasp, placing it gently on his side of the car in the pocket of the door.

Maybe he should have said something because now the three were laughing at his reaction.

“You seeing somebody, Kook?” Jungwon asks patting his shoulder and Jungkook can only clear his throat and shrug his hand away.

“I think our Kook is in love,” Hyeonjae playfully adds and Jungkook replies, “You guys are just hungry,” and turns on the car.

“Sure, that’s the reason Hyeonjae found a pink camera in your car and you got all nervous,” he laughs and leans back in his seat. Jungkook rolls his eyes and looks down at the camera that’s slightly visible. Feeling a little better now that the guys were focused on their phones.

Had Hyeonjae pressed the little camera button on the side he would have been met with pictures of you and Jungkook. It’s not something ideal right now.

“I could probably have finished my song by now,” Tag says, commenting on how long it was taking for their food to arrive.

“Hyung we barely placed our order. It hasn’t even been five minutes,” Jungwon replies laughing at the older’s grumpy state knowing he’ll cheer up once he has some good food in his system.

“Still,” Tag mutters and the rest chuckle.

“Hyeonjae?” A voice from behind Jungkook calls out, grabbing the attention of all the guys.

“Areum!” Hyeonjae is too quick to stand up and slightly bow at Areum in which she does the same. Meanwhile, Jungkook is once again panicked.

Areum was part of your friend group and here she was talking to Hyeonjae for some reason. He had no reason to worry really. He had never talked to her or any of your friends but there had been a couple close calls.

He remembers when you and Areum had to attend a study group with two guys from your guys’ class and how annoyed Jungkook had gotten because he wanted to take you out that night. He had made his way to the library that night and managed to get you to meet him in an area of the library where no one really went.

Let’s simply say you had a steamy meet up and almost got caught. Had it not been for Areum calling your name from afar, Jungkook wouldn’t have gotten the chance to walk a good distance from you while you fixed your skirt and hair.

“Uh Areum these are my friends Jungkook, Jungwon, and Taegyun but we call him Tag,” Hyeonjae, Jungkook had taken notice, was slightly fidgeting as he introduced them. Huh…

The guys all waved and she did the same, “Hi, I’m Areum,” she places a piece of her hair behind her ear, “You guys are welcome to join me and my friends. We just arrived-unless you guys are on your way out,” she says and all three guys look at Hyeonjae for his response.

Wait. Her and her friends? Does that mean you too? Jungkook knew you would be staying in a class later than usual today with a couple classmates but that’s pretty much all he was aware of.

Should he check your location to see if you’re here? Jungkook doesn’t get a chance to when Hyeonjae replies, “No, we just ordered a while ago. We wouldn’t want to bother,”

“No it’s fine! The more people, the merrier,” she says and Hyeonjae can’t say no. Jungkook sees Tag and Jungwon wanting to tease him for getting so visibly nervous.

“Okay,” Hyeonjae follows Areum to the other side of the restaurant and the guys take that as an invite as well. The three get up and follow. Jungkook, at the very back, a bit concerned. How should he act with you in front of his friends? Ignore you? No, he can’t do that very well but he knows he can’t kiss and hug you either.

The guys take notice that the area in which you guys are eating had suddenly become fancier? The chandeliers were different, the area was quieter, and the people around looked like they’ve never seen anything less than a billion won.

He hears it. That sound. One of his favorite sounds in the world. Your laugh. Your laugh that he loves so much. Your laugh that lets him know that everything is okay.

Jungkook visibly relaxes as you come into view. You’re wearing the same outfit from this morning only now you’re wearing a hoodie. You had decided to wear Jungkook’s sweater that he had left in your room a couple nights ago. Noticing that the day was cloudy you decided to be warm and wear his sweater that was too big but comfortable.

“Guys, this is Hyeonjae, Tag, Jungwon, and…uhm I’m sorry what was your name again?” Areum says looking directly at Jungkook. From the corner of his eye he sees you smile, “Jungkook,”

“Right! Jungkook! Oh and these are my friends Eunwoo, Jimin, and Y/N,”

“Will you guys be joining us?”

Hyeonjae says a simple yes and Eunwoo nods, “I’ll go request a bigger table,” he stands up and walks to an employee.

“I should go inform them we switched tables,” Jungwon says and goes up to the same server Eunwoo was speaking to.

The server is quick in telling the group to follow her and lead them to a much bigger table, enough to fit 10 guests.

Your friends on one side and Jungkook’s on the other. This…was weird.

“So how do you two know each other?” you ask pointing to your friend and Hyeonjae. Jungkook feels comfort in your voice.

“We’re partners in digital art class,” Hyeonjae says.

“Yeah Hyeonjae is really funny. Sometimes we get in trouble,” Areum says and you smile but miss the slight pink pigment in her cheeks.

Eunwoo and Jimin conversate with Jungwon and Tag leaving you and Jungkook sat in front of each other, slightly confused of how you two should act right now.

Jungkook decides to take his phone out.

Me: that’s the fourth hoodie you’ve stolen from me pretty

Your phone dings and you smile.

Y/N🎀💓: Stolen? You left this on my bedroom floor 🙄❤️

Me: it’s not my fault i’m always distracted when i go over

Y/N🎀💓: So it’s mine?

Me: when a pretty girl starts kissing my neck and talking about how bad she wants me i just can’t resist 😞

“Jungkook,” Tag nudges his shoulder and he looks up, putting his phone away and aware that the food is being served and his plate was in the server’s hand.

“Oh yeah that’s mine,” the plate is placed in front of him and the server tells them if they need anything to call her over before leaving them to enjoy their meal.

“Sorry about him, he’s been distracted lately,” Tag apologizes.

“Everything okay?” Eunwoo asks and Jungkook nods.

“Our theory is that he’s love sick,” Jungwon says and everyone at the table is quick to ask who it is like they were life long friends. You sit in your seat with your cheeks feeling warm knowing that he’s being like this because of you.

“Is it somebody we would know?” Jimin says genuinely intrigued.

“It’s nothing really,” no matter how badly Jungkook wants to gloat about you, he decides to hold back.

“He says it’s nothing but I found a pink camera in his car earlier,” Hyeonjae says and you audibly gasp.

Areum turns to you and you quickly make an excuse, “Sorry I thought I saw someone I knew,” and you grab your chopsticks and spoon to eat. Jungkook wants to kiss you so bad. You’re so cute.

“So, Jungkook?” Jimin says and Jungkook lets out a chuckle, “This food looks really good,” he starts to grab his utensils and the group lets out a disappointed sigh. You let out a small laugh and his friends make comments like ‘I bet she’s so out of his league and that’s why he won’t tell us’ that make your friends laugh.

Your group surprisingly got along with his very well. There was a couple jokes here and there but overall a ton of laughs. Jungkook always making sure to watch you every time because he loved it. You’d kick his leg gently under the table and he’d do the same. He was just ready to get out of here. It’s been a long hour of you being near him and not kissing you.

Eunwoo and Hyeonjae ended up splitting the tab afterwards and now you were all stood outside the restaurant.

“That was fun! We should do it again,” Areum says and Hyeonjae is quick to answer, “Yeah sure!” Tag laughs.

“Well I hope you guys have a good rest of your days. I’ll see you guys around campus,” Jimin comments and the rest bid their goodbyes. You making sure to subtly send a kiss to Jungkook in which he pretends to catch it and place it on his cheek.

Your group walks in the opposite direction from his and Jungkook can only smile. He’s defiantly going to kiss you nonstop later tonight.

“So Hyeonjae…when are you going to ask Areum out?” Jungwon teases as the four get in the car.

Tag laughs, “Yeah Hyeonjae. Oh Areum of course I’ll eat with you and my friends because you’re so pretty and I can’t help but blush and-” Tag is smacked by Hyeonjae but it only makes him laugh more.

“You guys are idiots,” he says but you can clearly tell his face was flushed.

“You were blushing like crazy every time she talked to you,” Jungkook says driving out of the parking lot.

“Really?” he didn’t even try to deny it this time. Hyeonjae wondered if Areum took notice.

“Yeah but she was blushing a lot too,” and this eases his nerves.

“Anyways I’ll RSVP to the wedding now to save time,” Jungwon jokes and the three laugh as Hyeonjae sighs staring out the car window.

“Hi baby-”

Jungkook couldn’t help it. He needed to kiss you. Without breaking the kiss, he closes the door behind you two and walks you two to your living room couch.

You’re straddling him as the kiss shows no sign of stopping anytime soon. His tongue slipping into your mouth and you follow suite. The kiss getting messy very quick but you couldn’t care less.

After both of your lips were swollen you pull away, intending to remove his jacket when you feel something in his pocket.

“What’s this-oh,” you take out the item from his pocket. It was your camera.

“I brought it so you could transfer the pictures and videos to your computer and send them to me,” Jungkook says trying to even out his breath. His gaze still on your wet pink lips. His fingers touch your lips innocently before they move to your jaw. He lets his arm fall to your waist to hold you on his lap securely.

“Sure we can do that,” you say and put the camera aside before leaning into him for a warm embrace.

“You looked so handsome today,”

“You look so gorgeous all the time,”

You giggle and look at him before pressing a kiss on his nose and going back to your position from before and loving the warmth, “That was weird right? My friends and yours just randomly eating together,”

“I think it was mostly because Areum and Hyeonjae like each other,”

“What?!”

“You didn’t notice?” Jungkook asks. You’re now sat properly on his lap again.

“I was too focused on my boyfriend to notice anybody else,” you says and run your hands through his hair. Jungkook closes his eyes at the nice feeling of your manicured hand just running through his hair.

“Yeah the guys were teasing Hyeonjae the entire car ride,”

“That’s mean. Hyeonjae’s cute,” you say absentmindedly and Jungkook opens an eye.

“Cute?”

“You know what I mean, baby,” you smile and he closes his eye again.

“They’d be cute together,” you note and Jungkook hums in agreement.

“By the way…Hyeonjae said he found the camera…he didn’t happen to look at the last video on it, right?” you ask grabbing the camera and turning it on.

“He turned on the camera but I grabbed it before he could do anything else,” you hum at his response.

“Okay. Good,”

“Why?” ”Did you forget what we last recorded on this?”

“Oh,”

It almost slipped his mind. Last time he filmed something. He couldn’t help it. Your moans were so pretty and his phone was too far. The camera lay on the center console as Jungkook’s dick slid in and out of you with ease. You just sounded so angelic and he wanted to capture it so bad.

“Koo please-” you were close and Jungkook knew it so he said fuck it and grabbed your pink camera you decorated in cute stickers before turning it on and pressing record with flash immediately. It’s not like anyone would see you either. Jungkook made sure to park far from others. He captured your sweet expressions and your angelic begs for him.

“Cum for me baby-fuck. Cum for me darling,” and for the second time that night you felt the warm feeling in your tummy before your release. That was enough for Jungkook to quickly feel the tight feeling and release his warm cum into you.

Your chest heaving up and down trying to regain your breathing as Jungkook, still recording, moved the camera to where his dick was slowly pulling out and his cum spilled down your ass and onto the sweater laid under you.

“Fuck darling,” he pressed the record button again to stop the video, “You’re gonna need to send me that so I could jack off to something when you’re not around,” he joked.

“Koo you have hundreds of pictures and videos of us already,” you say in between breaths.

“Yeah but this one might be my favorite,” he winks.

[pickingupmymercedes]

34+35 - Lewis Hamilton (NSFW)

Part of 1K Jukebox Event

song: 34 + 35 - Ariana Grande

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

genre: smut (these photos of him in a garage did something to me)

wordcount: +3k

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

EXPLICIT CONTENT UNDER THE CUT, -18 DO NOT INTERACT

______________________________________________________________

The heavy click of your heels echoes through the foyer, mingling with the faint hum of music drifting from the living room.

You drop your keys on the console, the sound loud enough to announce your arrival but soft enough not to interrupt him—because of course, he’s home.

And of course, he’s doing something maddeningly nonchalant while you’re practically vibrating with tension from your day.

You walk in, ready to unload the day’s chaos onto the nearest chair—or him, whichever happens first.

But the sight that greets you brings you to a sudden halt. There he is, sitting on the couch in a pair of grey sweatpants and a fitted white tank top, his body draped over the cushions like he owns the world.

His curls are loose, a few even falling into his face as he scrolls through photos on his tablet, the soft light of the screen casting a golden glow over his sharp jawline.

Your eyes flick to the photos for a split second, and there it is: him, in his new +44 merch, leaning against a vintage car in the shot, all casual dominance and smoldering eyes.

You swear under your breath. You’re already unraveling.

Lewis looks up and smirks, that slow, knowing grin that’s half amusement, half challenge. “Tough day? Or just can’t get enough of me?”

You roll your eyes, stepping out of your shoes and setting them by the sofa to buy yourself a moment. “Both” you mutter, brushing off the comment.

He sets the tablet down, leaning back into the couch with his arms stretched out over the backrest, watching you with the kind of lazy attention that makes your pulse skitter. “Hungry?”

“Starving.” The word slips out before you can think better of it, and his eyebrows rise just slightly.

“For what, exactly?”

“Lewis,” you warn, though it’s a weak attempt. You’re already losing the battle against the smile threatening to tug at your lips.

“What?” His tone is innocent, but the glint in his eyes betrays him. “Your body is telling me something, you know.

You cross your arms over your chest, leaning against the arm of the couch to look down at him waiting for him to go on.

“Come here, love. Tell me what is it.” He gestures lazily toward the space next to him.

You hesitate. Part of you wants to sink into the cushions beside him, let his calm energy wrap around you. But the other part—the part still running on adrenaline from back-to-back meetings and decisions—won’t let you.

You shake your head, staying where you are.

“I’m fine,” you say quickly, your voice just a little too tight. “The usual chaos. Nothing worth rehashing.”

Lewis tilts his head, studying you like he’s deciding whether to push. He knows you too well, and it’s infuriating how easily he can see through the armor you’ve spent years perfecting.

“Huh” he says finally, his voice slow. “So, you’re pacing the room like you’re about to go to war for fun?”

“I’m not pacing” you shoot back, realizing too late that you’ve taken at least three steps toward the kitchen without thinking.

He laughs, the sound low and warm, cutting through the static in your mind. “Sure, love.”

You glance back at him, narrowing your eyes. He meets your gaze, holding it with a calm steadiness that makes your stomach flip.

“You’ve got that look, you know” he says, his voice softening slightly.

“What look?”

“The one that says you’re trying not to lose it, but you’re already halfway there.”

You exhale sharply, your shoulders sagging just a fraction. He’s not wrong, and the admission stings more than it should. You hate how easily he can disarm you, but there’s a comfort in it too, in the way he sees you even when you’d rather stay hidden.

“Maybe I am” you admit quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Lewis’s expression shifts, the teasing fading into something softer, more intentional. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he watches you before getting up and reaching you on the kitchen.

“Come here,” he says again, his tone firmer this time, leaving no room for argument.

And for once, you don’t argue. You take the steps that separate you and settle in his arms, hoping the day would begin to loosen its grip on you.

But regardless of how comforting is the weight of Lewis around you, it’s not enough to quiet the restless buzz in your chest. You stand there rigidly, your back straight and your arms folded like they’re holding the last shards of your resolve together.

Lewis’s thumb rubs slow circles against your back, and while the motion is meant to soothe, it only makes the energy under your skin prickle more.

“You’re still wound up” he says softly, the observation maddeningly accurate. “What’s got you so tense?”

“Nothing” you reply curtly, eyes fixed on the far wall. The response is clipped enough to make him chuckle.

“Liar.”

Your head snaps toward him, a glare aimed to warn him off. But Lewis only smiles, his arm slipping so he can lean forward and face you fully.

“I’m serious,” he says, his tone shifting to that deliberate calm that somehow grates against the storm inside you. “You walked in here looking like you wanted to fight me and the furniture, and now you’re here like the world owes you a fight.”

“I’m not in the mood for a fight.”

“No?” He tilts his head, clearly unconvinced. His gaze sweeps over you, and you can feel the weight of it like a spotlight, exposing every crack in your composure.

“You look like you could use some unwinding” he says, his voice low and careful not to push too far.

“I’m fine,” you snap, the edge in your voice sharper than you intended. “Can we not do this right now?”

Lewis lets out a soft hum of acknowledgment, leaning back against a stool at the kitchen island as his eyes linger on you. “Sure. We don’t have to do this. But you know you’re not just gonna sit there and stew all night.”

You roll your eyes and stand abruptly, pacing around under the guise of needing water. It’s an excuse to put space between you and him, though you can feel his eyes on you the entire time.

“You always do this” you mutter under your breath, reaching for a glass.

“Do what?” he asks, following you like a shadow you can’t shake.

“This.” You gesture vaguely toward him, spinning around to find him leaning casually closer, now against the counter, arms crossed and a smirk playing at his lips. “This thing where you sit here all calm and collected, acting like you’ve got it all figured out.”

“I do?”

The nonchalance in his voice makes your teeth grind, and he knows it. He shifts closer, his hand brushing against your arm as he takes the glass from you and sets it back further on the counter.

“Talk to me,” he murmurs, his voice a quiet command.

“I don’t need to talk. I need—” The words catch in your throat, your pulse quickening as his gaze locks onto yours.

“What?” His tone is steady, unrelenting.

You hesitate, your lips pressing into a tight line. You hate that he can read you so well, that he knows exactly how to dismantle the walls you’ve spent all day reinforcing.

“I don’t know,” you finally say, the admission bitter on your tongue.

Lewis steps closer, his presence cornering you until there’s nowhere to hide. He reaches out, brushing his thumb on your cheek. “Sure, you don’t” he says softly, his thumb grazing dangerously close to the corner of your mouth.

And that touch is enough to send a crack through your resolve, and the frustration bubbling inside spills over.

“I need you to fuck me senseless so I can get out of my head” you snap, the words tumbling out before you can stop them.

The moment hangs in the air, thick and electric. His hand drops from your cheek, and for a heartbeat, he’s still. But then his expression shifts, his smirk sharpening.

“Finally,” he murmurs, the word more to himself than to you.

Your heart races as he closes any of the distance left between you two. His hands find your hips, pulling you flush against him, and his eyes meet yours with an intensity that steals your breath.

“Senseless you say?” he half asks, his voice low and edged with challenge.

You glare at him, refusing to back down. “Right here and now.”

His grin widens, wicked and unapologetic. “Don’t have to tell me twice.”

And he’s spinning you around, your back now pressed against the cool marble of the kitchen island. His hands are on you, firm and deliberate, and all the tension you’ve been carrying—the frustration, the restlessness, the overwhelming need— finally begins to slip.

Lewis’s lips claim yours with an urgency that leaves no room for overthinking, his hands gripping your hips like he’s anchoring you to him. Your breath hitches as his mouth moves to your neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your skin while his hands roam, tugging at your blouse to free you from it.

He isn’t soft, and you don’t want him to be. You want the fire, the friction, the rawness that only he can give you.

"You're still in your head," he murmurs against your collarbone, his voice a low rumble that makes your stomach tighten.

"Am not" you lie, though even you can hear the tension in your voice.

Lewis pulls back just enough to look at you, his hands sliding up your sides, his thumbs brushing the bare skin at your waist. His gaze is piercing, like he can see every thought you’re desperately trying to bury.

"Yes, you are" he counters, his tone steady, assured. "But I’ve got you"

The words hit something deep, something tender, and you swallow hard, gripping the edge of the counter to steady yourself. But Lewis isn’t having it. His hands leave your waist only to slide under your thighs, lifting you effortlessly onto the island.

"You’re going to let go, babe" he says firmly, stepping between your legs. His hands slide up your thighs, spreading them wider as he leans in. "I’ll make sure of it."

A sharp retort rises to your lips, but it dies the moment his mouth captures yours again. Your hands find their way to his shoulders, then his chest, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as if holding onto him might keep you from drowning in your own thoughts.

"I hate how you do this" you mumble against his lips, your voice a mix of frustration and surrender.

"Yeah?" His lips curve into a teasing smile, but his hands are anything but playful. They slide up your thighs, gripping firmly before tugging at the waistband of your pants.

"How you make me need you" you admit, the words cutting through the fog in your mind like a blade.

Lewis leans back just enough to meet your gaze, his expression softening even as his hands remain possessive on your hips. "That’s not something you need to hate" he says, his voice a low murmur.

Before you can respond, his hands move again, sliding your pants down and over your hips, leaving you only in your lingerie.

"Look at me," he says softly, tipping your chin up with his fingers when your wonders.

The intensity in his eyes pins you in place, grounding you in a way that makes your head spin. You feel the fight in you start to waver, your grip on control slipping with every deliberate touch, every whispered word.

"You’re here with me" he continues, his other hand trailing up your thigh. "Stay with me, Y/n."

"I’m trying" you whisper, the words thick with frustration.

"I know" he replies, his tone gentle but unyielding. His fingers graze the inside of your thigh, teasing but firm, and you can’t help the moan you let out.

The way he says it, like he knows you better than you know yourself. You exhale shakily, leaning forward to bury your face in his neck, your hands clutching at his shirt like it’s the only thing tethering you to reality.

"I hate how much I need this" you confess, your voice muffled against his skin.

"No, you don’t" he murmurs, his hands tightening on your thighs as he pulls you closer.

The next moments blur together in a haze of heat and motion. His lips are everywhere—your neck, your collarbone, the sensitive skin just below your ear.

The cold of the marble beneath you is a fleeting sensation, eclipsed entirely by the warmth of his body pressed against yours. He’s meticulous, demanding and reverent, as if he’s determined to strip away not just your clothes but every ounce of tension you’ve carried with you.

And he does. Piece by piece, layer by layer, until there’s nothing left but you and him and the steady, grounding rhythm of his movements.

His hands leave your body for only a moment as he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his sweatpants and underwear, shedding them in a single motion.

You can’t help but reach out, your hands instinctively finding him, wrapping around the hard length of his dick with a confidence that earns you a raised brow and a teasing smirk.

"Handsy, aren’t we?" he quips, his voice warm with amusement, though there’s also a hunger there.

You don’t bother with a response, too focused on the weight of him in your palm, the way his skin feels hot and smooth against your fingers. But your grip tightens slightly, and he inhales sharply, the teasing glint in his eyes replaced by primal need.

Lewis leans down, one hand bracing the counter beside you while the other trails up your thigh. When he glances at you, his intentions are clear.

He’s going down on you.

The thought of his mouth on you, of him taking his time, should be enough to unravel the tight coil of frustration lodged in your chest. But it doesn’t.

Instead, the restless energy intensifies, and the idea of waiting—of anything standing between you and the rawness you crave—makes your pulse hammer in protest.

Your hand shoots out, fingers grasping at his biceps and tugging just enough to make him stop.

“Don’t,” you say, your voice sharper than you intended.

Lewis freezes, his eyes snapping up to yours. For a moment, there’s confusion there, a flicker of surprise that quickly softens into something more intentional.

“You sure?” he asks, his voice low, careful, as his hands pause on your thighs. He searches your face like he’s trying to read between the lines of what you’re not saying.

Instead of answering, you pull his body against yours, locking your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, leaving no space for doubt.

That’s all he needs.

Lewis captures your lips in a kiss that’s all consuming, swallowing the moan that escapes you as he presses closer. His hands grip your thighs, positioning you at just the right angle, and then he’s there, pressing into you in a way that forces every other thought from your mind.

Even after all this time, the first stretch always takes your breath away. The sheer girth of him, the way he fills every inch of you, is something that never fails to surprise you.

A gasp escapes your lips, muffled against his mouth, and he groans in response, his forehead dropping to yours as he steadies himself.

Lewis adjusts his grip on your thighs, his fingers pressing into your skin with enough force to leave marks that will bloom tomorrow—an unspoken promise of this moment lingering long after.

He draws back, his cock sliding almost all the way out before slamming into you again, forcing a broken cry from your lips.

"That's it," he growls, his voice low and commanding. "I know you want to run that mouth of yours, but I don’t think you can right now, can you?"

The words should irritate you—no, they do irritate you—but any retort you might have had dissolves into a moan when he grinds his hips just right, hitting that devastating angle that makes your vision blur.

Your mind tries to fight back, to form some kind of response, something sharp and biting to remind him you’re not completely undone.

"Thought so," he says smugly, his teeth catching your bottom lip in a brief, punishing tug. His thrusts grow harder, more deliberate, and your head falls back against the cool surface of the island.

"You’ve been in your head all day, haven’t you? Spinning, overthinking. Let’s see if I can’t fuck all those thoughts right out of you."

You want to argue. But every time you’re on the verge of saying something, he pulls out nearly to the tip and drives back in, stealing the air from your lungs.

Fuck him.

Fuck this.

Why does he have to feel this fucking good?

"You’re too quiet, baby," he taunts, his hands shifting to grab at your waist, dragging you closer to the edge of the counter so he can pound into you even deeper.

The sharp slap of his skin against yours echoes in the room, drowning out your ragged breaths. "Where’s that smart mouth now? The one giving orders all day?"

Your fingers dig into his arms, desperate for something to ground you. "Lew" you manage to choke out, though your voice is barely audible over the obscene sounds of your bodies colliding.

"Don’t worry, I’m just getting started." he replies, a wicked grin spreading across his face. He adjusts his angle slightly, and the next thrust makes your toes curl and your back arch off the counter.

Your mind tries to claw back some semblance of control, some internal quip to distract from the overwhelming sensations, but it’s useless.

Every sharp comment that tries to form is obliterated the moment he moves, his hips driving into you with unrelenting precision.

"You feel that?" he growls, his voice rough with exertion. His hand slides up your stomach, between your breasts, until his fingers wrap lightly around your throat—just enough pressure to make your breath hitch.

"That’s me pulling you out of that head of yours. Don’t think, babe. Just feel."

You’re too far gone to respond, but he doesn’t need you to. His pace picks up, relentless and punishing, the rough drag of his cock against your walls pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

"Look at you," he murmurs, his tone darkly satisfied. "You’re mine right now, aren’t you? Just me and my cock on that pretty little head of your."

You can’t argue. You can’t even think of a reason to try. Your mind is blank, your body a live wire under his control, every nerve ending tuned to the rhythm he’s setting.

He leans down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "Let go for me. I’ve got you."

And with one more thrust—perfect, devastating, him—you do.

The world felt like it had shattered into fragments, each piece scattered too far for you to grasp.

You lay there on the cool counter, body limp, chest heaving, utterly boneless. Reality was an abstract concept—one you weren’t even sure you wanted to return to.

When Lewis pulled out, you barely noticed. It was only the warm sensation spreading across your stomach of his seed on your skin that registered somewhere deep in the recesses of your fogged mind.

But even that didn’t fully bring you back. Not yet.

It wasn’t until his hand cupped your cheek, thumb brushing lightly over your warmed up skin, that your senses began to reassemble themselves.

Your eyes fluttered open to find him watching you with satisfaction, his dark eyes searching your face. His curls damp with sweat, and his lips were swollen from all the kisses you’d stolen—or he’d stolen from you.

Either way, he looked unfairly good for someone who had just ruined you.

"Okay?" he murmured softly, his thumb pausing in its gentle stroke as he waited for your response.

You blinked up at him, still too blissed out to form words. Instead, you gave a slow, deliberate nod.

"Yeah?" he pressed, his voice dipping into that soothing tone he always used when you were at your most vulnerable. His other hand joined the first, cradling your face now, as if you might slip away if he wasn’t careful.

Another nod. Your lips parted to speak, but all that came out was a hoarse, barely-there whisper. "On my stomach?"

His lips quirked into a cocky grin, the sharp contrast to his earlier gentleness making you want to smack him—if you had the strength.

"A little souvenir" he echoed, his tone playful but still laced with warmth. He leaned closer, his nose brushing against yours. "Would you rather a creampie"

"Shut up," you muttered, your voice gaining a little strength now.

"You didn’t want me to shut up earlier," he teased, his thumbs sweeping over your cheekbones. "In fact, I think the words you used were—what was it?—‘fuck me senseless.’"

You groaned, letting your head fall back against the counter.

Lewis chuckled, the sound low and warm. "As long as you’re feeling better"

He kissed your forehead, soft and lingering, and you sighed, feeling a strange sense of peace settle over you. Your body was still thrumming from everything he’d done to you, but your mind—your perpetually spinning, overanalyzing mind—was finally still.

And damn it, as much as you hated to admit it, he’d been right.

"Yeah, yeah," you grumbled, closing your eyes again as his hand smoothed over your skin "Congrats. You shut me up."

"Didn’t shut you up" he corrected, his voice brimming with that maddening mix of confidence and affection. "Got you out of your head. Big difference."

Your eyes fluttered open, still hazy with the remnants of satisfaction, and found him staring down at you with a stupidly smug grin.

"Right," you muttered, voice scratchy, "I’m going to clean myself up." Your hand motioned lazily to the sticky trail now spreading down on your thighs, the remnants of him painting your skin.

Lewis stepped back, making no effort to stop you as you slid off the counter, your legs wobbling a little before you caught your balance. He leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, that same infuriatingly cocky smile plastered on his face.

As you padded down the hallway, you couldn’t shake the feeling of his eyes trailing after you. Halfway to your bedroom, you stopped abruptly, glancing over your shoulder to catch him watching you, leaning there like he didn’t have a care in the world.

"You coming, or are you just going to stand there?" you called back, one brow arching as you let your eyes rake over him for emphasis.

His grin widened, his gaze dipping shamelessly down your body. "I am coming," he replied, pushing off the counter with a slow, deliberate motion. "Just didn’t want to rush and miss the view."

You rolled your eyes and turned back around, but the small, satisfied smirk tugging at your lips betrayed you.

Typical him. Always cocky. Always exactly what you needed.

_____________________________________________________________

TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @itsmrshamilton @vicurious28

@0710khj @thecubanator2 @neilakk @bigratbitchsworld @adriswrld

@fearfam69691 @cmleitora @goldenroutledge @timmychalametsstuff @jpgnsf

@priopp123 @strqirlhrts @hmmmmm-01 @bisexual-babygirl-mj @bebesobrielo

@hiireadstuff @f1-football-fiend @unlikelystay

If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

[diivineangel]

“ i’m takin’ care of each and every part…i open up your legs and go straight for your heart. ”

𝓢ynopsis: hiromi’s unwavering dedication to his work has created an unspoken distance in his marriage, leaving his spouse adrift in quiet loneliness. the long hours he spends away weigh heavily on them both—his partner aches for his presence, while hiromi wrestles with guilt and the fear of losing the one he loves most. finally, driven by the need to heal what has frayed, hiromi steps away from the chaos of his career, choosing instead to rekindle their bond in the most intimate and heartfelt way.

pairing: hiromi higuruma x fem!reader

cont: desperation, smut, oral receiving, he cums inside, just general 18+ content…., mdni.

wc: 2,543

────        𝓗iromi Higuruma's job was grueling. Fighting for the innocent, defending the wrongly accused, standing tall for people who didn't deserve to be caged away—it was as noble as it was soul-crushing. The endless hours, the weight of other people's lives resting on his shoulders, the knowledge that justice wasn't always as blind as it should be—it wore him down. But this was his duty. And he bore it, even when it left him drained to the core, because someone had to.

And then, there was you.

You, who made it all feel worth it. You, who welcomed him home like a balm for his weary soul. You'd have a warm bath ready after those long, punishing days, your arms open and waiting, a soft smile that could disarm any tension. You cooked him dinners so rich, so full of care, that he felt it in his bones. Everything about you soothed him, brought him a kind of peace he never knew he needed so desperately.

And he adored you for it. He always did.

Even if his words didn't always convey it, his heart spoke it every time he looked at you. How did he get so lucky? A wife who loved him unconditionally and somehow, on top of all that, made time to praise his nose? He'd chuckle about it in the quiet moments. It was silly, but he cherished it.

But lately, something had shifted.

At work, his focus wasn't what it used to be. Oh, he was still good—too good, even, to falter in the courtroom—but his mind had started wandering in ways it never had before. Specifically, to you. And not just your smile or the way your laugh filled every corner of a room. No. It was the way you felt pressed against him. The way your lips parted when he kissed you deeper. The soft sounds you'd make when he touched you.

It hit him out of nowhere most days—a rush of heat curling through him like a flame he couldn't extinguish. It didn't help that you hadn't had much time for intimacy lately.

Work, schedules, and exhaustion had gotten in the way, but the longing hadn't gone anywhere. If anything, it had only grown stronger, festering inside him until it was a near-constant ache.

So there he was, in court, cross-examining a witness with a painful erection straining against his slacks. No one could see it, thankfully, but the sheer humiliation of it burned in his chest. He couldn't stop thinking about you—your body, your voice, the way you'd feel under him. It was almost maddening.

By the time he won the trial, he wasn't even relieved. He just needed to get home.

To you.

The moment Hiromi stepped through the door, he was in motion. Shoes off, briefcase discarded, and then he was climbing the stairs two at a time, his heart pounding like a war drum.

When he saw you, he froze for half a second. You turned to greet him, your finger booping his nose in that playful way you always did, your voice sweet and full of pride. "You looked like you worked hard again, Romi," you praised softly, smiling at him.

"Yeah, I did. Thank you," he managed, though his voice was thick with something else entirely—something raw, hungry. And soon enough he was pulling you into a hug. 

The second your body pressed against his, he nearly lost his composure. His hips shifted instinctively, the hard line of his arousal brushing against you. He inhaled sharply, his face buried in the crook of your neck. The familiar scent of you was like a drug-intoxicating, irresistible.

"You—" His voice cracked slightly as he pulled back, his gaze locking with yours. He didn't know how to explain what you did to him, the way you completely unraveled him with just a touch, a look, a word. He didn't need to. You saw it in his eyes, the raw, unspoken desire that had been simmering for weeks.

Before you could say anything, his lips crashed into yours, hungry and demanding. He lifted you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you to the bed. There was no rush in his movements, though. No frantic desperation.

"I've been thinking about you all day," he confessed, his voice low and thick with want. His hands slid to your hips, his thumbs tracing slow, deliberate circles over your skin. "I'm gonna take my time with you, sweetheart, that alright?"

He didn’t even let you answer, his eager mouth moved lower, leaving a trail of kisses down your body until he was between your legs, his tongue dragging languidly over your sensitive skin. You gasped, your hands tangling in his hair as he worked you over with an almost torturous patience. His nose brushed against you, and the sound that escaped your lips made him groan against you.

"Hiromi..." His name fell from your lips in a breathless moan, your voice shaking with need. You couldn't help it-couldn't stop the way your hips instinctively bucked against him, seeking more of the unbearable bliss he was giving you. He only tightened his grip on your thighs, holding you firmly in place, his movements deliberate, maddeningly slow.

You couldn't think, couldn't focus on anything but the feel of him. His tongue moved in a steady rhythm, his nose brushing against you with every motion, and it was too much and not enough all at once. The sounds he was making-low, satisfied hums that vibrated against you— only pushed you closer to the edge, your entire body tensing as the pressure built inside you.

"P-please," you whimpered, your voice trembling as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. You were a mess—flushed, shaking, your hands fisting the sheets in desperation. You could barely form words, barely do anything but feel.

Hiromi pulled back just enough to glance up at you, his lips slick, his eyes dark and hungry. "I said I'd take my time, didn't I?" His voice was rough, filled with an almost predatory satisfaction, and it sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through you.

You opened your mouth to respond, but all that came out was a strangled cry as he dipped his head again, his tongue sliding into you with a deliberate, agonizing slowness. It was like he was savoring you, taking his time to unravel every part of you. And you let him—because in that moment, nothing else existed but him and the pleasure he was giving you.

Your body trembled beneath his touch, every stroke of his tongue, every soft scrape of his teeth, every teasing nuzzle of his nose sending shockwaves through you. The knot in your stomach tightened, coiling tighter and tighter until it finally snapped, a wave of euphoria crashing over you so powerful it left you gasping, tears spilling freely down your cheeks.

He didn't stop, didn't let up even as you squirmed beneath him, overstimulated and blissed out. When he finally pulled back, his lips curved into a wicked, satisfied grin, his hands still holding you steady. "You're beautiful like this," he murmured, his voice soft but filled with an unmistakable possessiveness.

And as he moved to capture your lips again, you realized you'd never felt more utterly, devastatingly his.

Hiromi leaned over you, his lips claiming yours as if they could draw every last sound of pleasure from your mouth. You could taste yourself on him—warm, intoxicating, a reminder of just how thoroughly he'd worshipped you moments ago. His hands never left your body, sliding over your trembling thighs and up to your hips, anchoring you to him like he couldn't bear even a sliver of distance between you.

The look in his eyes when he pulled back made your breath catch. It was raw, unguarded-like he was teetering on the edge of something he couldn't control. His lips were slightly parted, his breath uneven, and you could see the flush creeping up his neck, could feel the way his body radiated heat against yours.

"You don't know what you do to me," he rasped, his voice low and unsteady. His hands tightened on your hips as he ground his clothed arousal against you, the friction making you gasp. His eyes flickered shut for a moment, and a groan escaped him-deep, guttural, filled with an ache that mirrored your own.

"Baby..." you whispered, your voice soft but trembling with want. You reached for him, your fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw, the slight stubble that tickled your fingertips. He leaned into your touch, his eyes fluttering open to meet yours, dark and filled with so much emotion it made your chest tighten.

"I can't stop," he admitted, almost a Whisper, as if confessing to some uncontrollable need. "You're in my head, always. Even when I'm at work, even when I'm trying to focus, it's you." He let out a shaky breath, his forehead pressing against yours. "And it drives me insane. I've been waiting—craving—this. Craving you."

The sincerity in his voice sent a wave of warmth flooding through you, your heart swelling even as your body ached for him.

You pulled him closer, your legs wrapping around his waist, and he let out a sharp exhale, his control visibly fraying at the edges.

"Then take me," you murmured, your voice barely more than a breath.

That was all it took.

His hands moved with purpose, unbuttoning his shirt with a desperate kind of urgency before shrugging it off. You couldn't help but admire him—the way his muscles tensed beneath his skin, the way his chest rose and fell as he fought to stay composed. But when he finally joined you on the bed, pressing his bare body against yours, any semblance of restraint he had left crumbled.

He kissed you again, slower this time, savoring the way your lips moved against his. His hands explored every inch of you, his touch reverent, as though he was memorizing every curve, every shiver, every little gasp you gave him. He moved against you, his arousal pressing into you with a delicious kind of pressure that had you arching against him, desperate for more.

And when he finally slid into you, the world seemed to still.

The stretch, the heat, the way he filled you so perfectly-it was overwhelming in the best possible way. You gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders as you clung to him, and he groaned low in his throat, his head dropping to the crook of your neck.

"God," he breathed, his voice strained, as if the feeling of being inside you was too much. "You're so... perfect. So warm. So —" He broke off with a sharp inhale, his hips moving slowly, deliberately, as if he wanted to make this last. But the way his body trembled against yours betrayed just how much you affected him.

Every thrust was slow, deliberate, his body pressing into yours with a rhythm that left you breathless. The friction, the heat, the intimacy—it all built into a crescendo that had you teetering on the edge of bliss once again. And from the way his breathing grew heavier, the way his groans became rougher, you knew he was right there with you.

"Hiromi... I—" Your voice cracked, your nails raking down his back as the pleasure built to an unbearable peak.

"I've got you," he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice soft but thick with emotion. "Let go for me, sweetheart. Let me feel you."

And you did. Your release crashed over you in waves, your entire body trembling beneath him as your voice broke on his name. The way you tightened around him, the way you clung to him like he was your lifeline—it sent him spiraling.

With one final thrust, he buried himself deep inside you, his groan muffled against your neck as his body tensed, his release ripping through him like a tidal wave. He stayed there for a moment, his arms wrapping tightly around you, his breath hot against your skin as he came down from the high.

Neither of you spoke for a while, the silence filled only with the sound of your mingled breathing. His weight on top of you was grounding, his hands gentle as they traced lazy patterns over your skin. He lifted his head eventually, his gaze soft as he looked at you, his thumb brushing a stray strand of hair from your face.

And as you pulled him closer, your bodies still tangled together, you both knew there was nowhere else you'd rather be.

🏷️: @luv-lies @tojiseviltwin @yung-notorious @kentosmirrorball @jazzthatonewriterchick @sugoroo @lokissweater @pepperyduck

[spacebell]

I get so annoyed at my brother sometimes

[hawkeyeslaughter]

happy birthday trapper john i love you trapper john

[wlw-webcomic-bracket]

Am I aware that adderall can’t do its job if I don’t get enough sleep?

Have I utterly failed to make use of this knowledge?

Am I, an entire adult with a wife and a salary, hoping “you wouldn’t want to disappoint HP, would you?” is the thing that finally motivates me to go to bed before two in the morning?

The answers to these questions will probably not surprise you!

[stealingyourbones]

Spent so much time making sushi for dinner and was so excited to have a funky little sushi roll and eat it like a burrito but then my nori ripped apart mid roll and I had to eat it as a salad and apparently my brain doesn’t like the texture of imitation crab + seaweed and rice rn :(

[valewritessss]

Should I sneak into the kitchen to get a cookie at midnight yes or no

[peapod20001]

I’m the type that can and will cry if think too hard <3

[okcoolthanks]

Off topic but Whale reminds me of qsmp slimecicle from when he like went to fucking eggsile what the fuck ever kill me

[aroace-poly-show]

eepy time

[bitterpngs]

i keep getting out of bed late

[aspiringhorrorauthor]

Just read a post about how you shouldn’t trust a doctor who rushes you and like, yes I fully understand the frustration, so here’s what you can do to stop yourself being rushed:

-ask for a double appointment

-ask for a triple appointment

-fuck it ask for an hour long appointment if you think it’ll help

-be outright about what you want/need from an appointment. If you need more time to process information, say that. If you need the doctor to write out all information, say that. If you have a complex case/long history, say that!

-list all the reasons why you want to see the doctor/vet that day and please don’t sugar coat it. “Been vomiting” is a ten minute fix. “Been vomiting after every meal for the past two years” is not. It needs a double appointment and possibly a referral too.

Doctors and vets are overworked to fuck and exploited to hell. Help us out a little, please

[malwarewolf404]

I had dieting fads and lately I got to thinking I should try limiting my portions to around the size of two baseballs (because I heard somewhere that’s generally how big a meal should be???) and while I want to say its been making me more mindful of how much I usually eat, I’m just hungry. I’m so hungry. And now Idk if I can eat a meal without feeling like a fatass.

[fingertipsmp3]

Should I get up at 6 in the morning to go for a run or is that an insane decision that I will hate myself for

[reikunrei]

:/