#i think i got em all but feel free to let me know if i missed anyone

[dirty-bear-rick-sanchez]

I know this is probably a rhetorical question but I wanted to break down every interaction they've had in the show so I'm going to take this as an excuse to do it xD

Although I've rewatched and analysed these scenes for this, I haven't done a complete rewatch with this in mind so I can't guarantee that I won't have missed stuff. If anyone notices anything I've missed please feel free to add it!

Their first direct interaction is Morty saying he’ll forgive her for abandoning them if she lets him fly her ship (to which she agrees saying that she was just going to give him space cigarettes) in Star Mort Rickturn of the Jerri. This reminds me of the way Morty sometimes manipulates Rick to get things (e.g. to take Jerry on an adventure, to let him pick the adventure, to make him the video game style place saving device, to get Rick to buy him the sex robot), which makes sense since Space Beth 'cosplay[s] as [her] shitty father in his 30s'. Morty tends to be more honest/direct with Home Beth, even when he's upset with her (e.g. in A Rickconvenient Mort). It's also interesting that he went straight for the abandonment thing since he knows that had such a big impact on Beth. I wonder if he does have some negative feelings towards her for leaving? After all, he did witness Home Beth telling Rick that she relates to her family and not to Space Beth since Space Beth abandoned them all. He might be angry on Home Beth's behalf the same way he was in The Wedding Squanchers.

This one is more about Rick and Space Beth but Morty does join in on the argument about her trying to talk to them/use a good line in Solaricks. I can't think of an equivalent time he's done this with Home Beth, but he has similar reactions to Xenon Bloom, Jerry, and Rick when they make jokes in times of crisis. Also, I never noticed his thumbs down before but it's killing me lmao. It's one of those subtle moments of Morty's intelligence - he knows that Space Beth can't hear them so gives her an obvious visual signal, whereas Rick continues to try and speak. Of course, they both attempt to speak to her afterwards, but they are both dumbasses after all (affectionate). Can't win 'em all.

Interestingly, both Beths say Morty’s name and hug him when he and Rick return from the Prime dimension - there’s no real difference between their reactions. Home Beth seems more... surprised? Sheepish? Maybe because of her jealousy surrounding Summer's admiration of Space Beth she wasn't expecting Morty to hug her as well? I'm not sure exactly what emotion Space Beth's face means here. Maybe she's proud of him? Either way, she obviously does still love him and was worried about him.

In Bethic Twinstinct, Space Beth tells Morty ‘back off, little man’ when he says that she and Home Beth need to tell Jerry about their relationship. He's the only one who tells them directly what to do (Rick tells them to go ahead but that everyone knows and Summer just says that Jerry is oblivious), so that could be why, but I still find it interesting that she targets him specifically. Space Beth hasn't had a lot of the development Home Beth has with Morty but the most prominent example that comes to mind is A Rickconvenient Mort. That episode was not only a big moment for Home Beth trying to protect Morty and actually being there for him at the end, but it also showed her that Morty does know more than she gives him credit for about how people perceive him specifically. Morty's other outburst to Beth in The Whirly Dirly Conspiracy is about how Beth's actions affect Summer and we do see a marked difference in how Space Beth treats Summer and Morty. Space Beth realised that Summer's feelings matter and that she's not just a hormonal/irrational teenager, but she never had that moment with Morty, which makes sense with her patronising tone with him here. Since Beth blamed Diane for driving Rick away and got pregnant as a teenager, I can see why she would view teenagers as irrational/their feelings not really mattering. After all, she comes to understand both Diane and Rick's actions/choices a lot more in the series, and becoming a parent so young has been very hard on her. However, Home Beth has not only chosen the kids and Jerry, but is going to therapy, so she has a different view on this to Space Beth, who can just blame her teenage mistakes on her past self rather than her current self.

Space Beth is present in the Time and Tide montage in Fear No Mort but she’s more enthusiastic about Summer’s wedding and more restrained with him going to college (whereas Home Beth hugs him). I find it interesting that Space Beth and Jerry are grouped together in the graduation scene - they're both standing to the side while Home Beth and Summer hug Morty and join him in the photo. This does make sense when you consider that Jerry and pre-S4 Beth were most responsible for letting Rick hurt Morty, whereas Home Beth is putting in more effort now. Morty is also very protective of Summer and Beth in S1-S3 in particular so I wonder if they appreciate this and feel closer to him than Jerry and Space Beth do? I can't think of a time where Morty has been protective of Jerry specifically, and Space Beth is not only a lot more assertive but probably hasn't considered/realised how much Morty cares for his family and therefore doesn't appreciate it in the way that Summer and Home Beth do. This one is interesting since it's inside Morty's mind so it gives us a good idea of how Morty expects his parents to act. He knows that Jerry and Space Beth would be there physically, but lack an emotional connection.

I know we didn't see them interact onscreen but Space Beth did get Morty the Pooplickian Gamepod. It could've been a gift for both him and Summer, but it’s only Morty who’s present as he’s setting it up in the intro. Also, while Summer does join Rick and Morty while they're playing it before she starts using it as an escape, she's much more critical and disinterested. Even if it was intended as a joint present, it's definitely more up Morty's street and Space Beth would've known that.

Space Beth is also the one who says ‘bored of your toy already?’ when Morty and Rickbot return to the living room after they left with the light sabre. She is being patronising again, but it does show her understanding of Morty's interests - she's surprised that he would spend so little time with his new light sabre.

This isn't an interaction, but I find it interesting that Morty specifies that he and Summer have 'two badass moms now'. Even after everything, he still loves his mom - no matter which version of her. This reminds me of him telling Ethan that Beth is a good mom in The Whirly Dirly Conspiracy. He really does look up to Beth.

There's not a great deal to analyse about this line but it is a direct interaction between the two of them so I thought I should include it. Again, we have the framing of Jerry and Space Beth together and Summer, Morty and Home Beth together. In this scene, it matches their attitudes - while Space Beth and Jerry take an interest in the events, they're much more detached emotionally from the situation. Everyone else is standing while they remain sitting, showing a lack if care or urgency.

In conclusion, Morty loves Space Beth and thinks she's cool, but she still views him as a child and is emotionally distant, and he's aware of this. She also has a much more obvious favourite child, as we saw in Morty's Mindblowers, whereas Home Beth doesn't show as much favouritism. In many ways, Space Beth is S1-S3 Beth, whereas Home Beth is S4-present. However, that's not true, they're both S1-S3 Beth, and I wonder if Morty would find that fact hard to reconcile? With Rick, it's much more obvious that he is both the good and the bad moments/parts of himself since it's just him. With the two Beths, you can almost convince yourself that they couldn't have become the other. I wonder if it would hurt Morty to spend more time with Space Beth and be reminded of how his mom used to be, how she still is sometimes. Would he appreciate Home Beth's efforts more? Would he begin to resent Space Beth for not doing the same?

I would love a Space Beth and Morty episode. I think Home Beth is generally still very oblivious to what Morty goes through (look how shocked she is in The Jerrick Trap that Morty is selling drugs). However, Space Beth has spent enough time out in the galaxy that she must have a better grasp on the sorts of adventures Rick is taking Morty on. I also feel like she has a lot more resentment towards Rick, or at least is a lot more guarded towards him than Home Beth is, so it would be an interesting way to explore Morty’s feelings towards Rick to have them both angry at him - especially if Morty does run away. We’d also get to see more of Space Beth’s development and feelings towards Morty, which I think would be something cool to explore.

We could even have a conflict between the Beths where Home Beth is angry at Space Beth for taking Morty somewhere dangerous or letting him do something inappropriate but Space Beth points out that he does it (and much worse) all the time with Rick.

Honestly though, I mainly just want to see Morty and Space Beth having a cool adventure.

[moonymauk]

hi @hotvintagepoll I've made a letterboxd list with all the actors from this tournament if anyone would like an easy enough way to see all the guys and the movies they've been in <3

[arminsumi]

Another geto size kink vanilla smut please. I can't get enough. I always go back to reread yours it's so good

Oh, boyfriend Geto Suguru and his petite girl — who he's obsessed with.

+ warnings; size kink, panty-humping, some dirty talk

+ an; omg this was so yum to write, thank you for reminding me that Geto Suguru + a size kink exists 😋💗

Bf!Geto who's got one enormous hand resting on the small of your back during parties, his straight lips twisting into a grin when he looks down at you — a dirty grin that gets you tingly all over. Oh his heart lurches when you crane your neck to look back at him. As he commented when the two of you first met three years ago, "It's cute that you have to put in so much effort to look up at me."

... and pre-bf!Geto who used to randomly whisk you off your feet, big biceps twitching and flexing against your sides, as a 'joke' — yeah, yeah, it was just to surprise you. But he just wanted to have a sweet small girl in his arms, and wanted to show off how strong he was.

Just standing behind him and seeing his big broad back worked your imagination — how d'you think he'd look from the back while driving into your sloppy hole, how his muscles would flex?

And you know, Suguru was always aware each time you were staring even though you thought you were little miss slick, so of course he straightened out his posture — he had to remind you that he hits that 6'3 mark!

Bf!Geto's favorite thing is rubbing his thick fingers up and down your tiny clit through your innocent pink panties, making you shiver and twitch and whine in response to the subtlest friction as he's got you bent over his black-sheeted bed. It makes him smirk, it makes his cock stand stiff and upright in his pants, leaky cockhead dripping precum against his inner thigh.

It's in this bed that bf!Geto loves eating you out — of course, he likes to get you impatient, taking his time tying his hair up until you tug at the hem of his shirt and practically pull him into you for a hot, sloppy, open-mouthed kiss that he just melts into. In minutes he's sliding down, big rough n' calloused hands prying your thighs apart, dragging you closer to his face like you weigh nothing — because you do weigh nothing to a big boy like him.

You're especially reminded of his size kink when he thumbs your pussy lips apart, or when he stuffs his thick fingers inside you, rubbing against your favorite spots like it's just a fun little game for him. Or when he thumbs your actual lips apart to explore your mouth a bit before sliding his fingers in — "Get 'em wet for me, baby." he murmurs, eager to feel your tiny mouth.

Bf!Geto loves squishing his cock against your slit, dividing your soft lips until they sandwich him. Of course, he acts so nonchalant, blowing his hair out of his face as he looks down at the pretty sight of your pussy getting dwarfed by his thick girth.

When his black, sultry eyes drift up to meet yours, you feel your stomach drop and your face heats up.

"Feel me pulsing, baby?" he teases, "Aw, sorry, I didn't mean to make you shy. No, come on, don't be shy — " he giggles, leaning in for a fat kiss. "You're so cute."

As the thick middle of his cock's sliding through your folds, his free hand meets yours and pins it down, holds it tight — did you see that? Did you catch the glimpse of his bicep twitching when he squeezed your hand?

bf!Geto still goes crazy each time you grind your pussy back on his cock as if it's the first time all over again. He lets out a hot breath, presses his cockhead tightly against your hole, and rubs so hard through your thong that he half-fucks it into your gushing pussy. They're totally ruined with gooey cum and sticky juices by the time he's done obsessively rubbing his cock against you.

And bf!Geto loves your tiny thongs, loves pulling them back and letting them snap against your holes when he's got you in reverse cowgirl.

And he just simply loves how much smaller your clothes are. When you and him weren't dating yet, he'd let you wear his big t-shirts or hoodies for sleepovers — only to choke and drool the next morning over the sight of little you in his big clothes.

bf!Geto's got thick, thick muscular thighs that press into the back of your plush, smaller thighs. And his long legs? He loved flirting joking "... I think I'm too tall for you — yeah we'd have a hard time having sex, huh?" long before you and him were dating.

And it's true. It's pretty difficult, getting railed by a 6'3 thick-muscled boy like him — that's why sometimes he just resorts to lifting you and fucking you while standing, weighting you against the wall with his whole body and each thrust of his cock.

[hyunjins-orange-slice-too]

Omg omg, can you please do a daddy!chan oneshot x babygirl!reader (pls make them married) based of when the reader cant take his cock(too big)😩

you can take it. can’t you baby?

pairing: daddy!husband!chan x babygirl!reader

genre: smuuuuuut, no plot. oh you guys.. this is filthy. we are so back.

word count: ~1.5k

warnings: daddy kink, praise kink, unprotected sex, squirting, dirty talk, fluffy silly little bit of aftercare at the end

an: oh my gooooodddd i love requests like this. i love thinking about this. i love the opportunity to write shit like this. inject daddy!chan directly into my bloodstream atp. love love LOVE. need him asap. “big dick chan. big dick chan” we all chant in unison.

masterlist

‼ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⚠︎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ‼ adults only • mdni ‼ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⚠︎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ‼

“it doesn’t fit again, baby?” he teased. “we just did this last night.” he’s slowly inching his cock inside you, but not having much luck. the stretch is too much for you. “baby’s pussy is just soo tight.. huh?”

you’re nodding, doing your best to answer his question, your mouth hanging open, drool pooling on your tongue. he’s already got you fucked out and he hasn’t even fucked you yet. “s’too much daddy..” you whined. “too— too much.”

“i know, baby. daddy knows.” he cooed, pulling out of you, though he was only head deep. “let’s prep you a little better, yeah?” he brings his hand to your face, squeezing your cheeks in between his fingers. your tongue lolls out of your mouth, spit dripping down to your chin. he takes his middle and ring finger and places them on your tongue. you immediately wrap your lips around the digits, swirling your tongue over his skin.

“there you go, baby. good girl. get em nice and wet.” you moaned around his fingers, the praise shooting right to your core, your pussy dripping onto the sheets. he shoves them deeper into your mouth, down your throat until his knuckles are hitting your teeth and you gag around him. his eyes roll slightly at the sound, struggling to keep his composure when you’re so pliant for him.

he pulls his fingers out, a trail of spit connecting them to your lips as he brings them to your pussy. “let’s try and stretch you out a little, yeah?” he rubs soft circles around your clit, teasing, before he travels lower and plays with your drippy hole. “it’s daddy’s fault for not prepping you better. i just get so excited, baby. i get so excited to feel your little cunt wrapped around me.” he slowly slides his fingers inside, pumping them a few times before spreading his fingers apart, doing his best to stretch your little hole.

“it’s hard for daddy to wait sometimes. i just need my baby so bad.” he speeds up his fingers, curving them to hit the spot he knows you like so much. the sounds coming from your sweet mouth make his cock ache. it’s red and leaking onto his tummy where it rests, not so patiently waiting for its turn. he can feel you starting to flutter around his fingers, your legs beginning to shake. he brings his free hand up to your tummy and gently presses down, making sure you feel everything.

“daddy..” you cry. “gonna cum..” your little fists grip at the sheets, then grip onto his firm bicep, your nails digging into the muscle that’s doing most of the work. “b-big one..” you whine.

big one. he knew what that meant and it only made his cock angrier. “big one, baby? fuck. you haven’t done that since our wedding night. mmm. daddy loves it when you do that. you gonna make a mess, sweet girl?”

you held onto him like he was the only thing left anchoring you to this world, rolling your hips up to meet his thrusting fingers. “fuck. that’s it baby. fuck daddy’s hand. such a perfect girl.”

and then it hit you. it comes in waves, the initial orgasm hitting you, the first little gush of liquid around his fingers and he knows that’s when to pull them out. and once they’re out, that’s when you squirt all over his thighs, his arm, his waiting cock. he’s lucky he doesn’t bust right then. he brings his fingers to your clit, quickly rubbing back and forth, coaxing out any little bit of cum that’s left in you.

you collapse on the bed, completely spent, but ready for more. your hole spasms around nothing, practically begging to be filled. chan hovers over you, placing sweet kisses along your jaw and neck. he lines himself up with your entrance, your warm cum coating his tip. he drags it up and down through your folds, slapping it on your clit a few times. you whimper under him, your body still recovering.

“i think you’re ready now, princess.” he says, the head of his cock poking your hole. “wanna see if you can take it now, baby. daddy knows you can. you can take it, can’t you baby?” he’s babbling as he slowly starts to push in. you still feel the stretch but not as much as last time. “that okay, pretty girl? how’re you doing?” he brushes his fingers across your cheek and your lips. “talk to me, baby. come back.”

you whimper as he sinks deeper and deeper, the stretch feeling so good, his words feeling even better. “s’good daddy.” you mumble. “i can do it. i’m— i’m a good girl, daddy. i can do it. promise.”

he bottoms out, his hips coming in contact with the back of your thighs and he stills, giving you time to adjust and drinking in the feeling of you squeezing him. “that’s right baby. you are a good girl. such a good girl taking all of daddy’s cock. fuck. letting me stretch out this little pussy.”

after a moment, he’s unable to wait any longer and he begins to rock back and forth, his cock dragging your walls in all the right ways. you can feel every inch, every vein, as he slowly pumps in and out of you. savoring the feeling. he looks down at where your bodies are connected (heh connected. get it? sorry.) and he groans at the sight of the creamy ring of cum that surrounds the base of his cock. he’s not going to last.

“fuck.. baby girl..” he throws his head back, his eyes closing as he focuses on the way you feel around him. and you’re focusing on the way he looks above you. his toned stomach flexes with every thrust he makes, sweat dripping down his chest, his black curls clinging to his forehead. his nose and his full parted lips are enough to bring you close to your high again. you tried to make a mental note in your foggy mind to ride his face next time, feel his nose bumping against your clit. maybe squirt in his mouth. you bet he would like that. you clenched around him at the thought, at the visual of his tiny trail of hair that runs from below his belly button to the base of his cock. “you’re squeezing me baby. fuck i’m gonna cum.”

he looks back down at you, dark eyes meeting yours as his thrusts become harsher. skin slapping against skin as he pounds into you. he leans down and wraps his arms around your head, protecting your skull from smacking the headboard as he fucks you. “gonna cum in this little pussy baby. gonna fill you up, yeah?”

you nodded, gripping onto his shoulders as you teetered on the edge of your own bliss. “yes daddy. yes please, cum in me.”

“such a sweet baby.” he grunted. “using words like please. begging for daddy.”

“want your cum. please. please can i have it?”

you were so close. you were sure you would cum with the next words out of his mouth. it didn’t matter what he said, as long as he was the one that said it, you were going to cum.

“can you take it all baby? daddy’s gonna cum but don’t- fuck.. don’t you let any of it escape.”

and you came, your release squirting around his cock, but he refused to pull out. he kept fucking into you, the wet noises loud as they echoed off the walls of your shared bedroom.

“gonna pump this pussy full of cum, baby.” he rasped into your ear, his breath warm, but your skin still breaking out in goosebumps. your nails dug into his back, your head empty, unable to beg him anymore. but that’s okay, he was already cumming in you. his twitching cock dumped his huge load into your aching pussy. and it just kept going and going. “so much cum, baby. fuck. fuck.” he whimpered. “such a good girl. fuck. daddy’s perfect girl.”

his thrusts finally rolled to a stop, his body collapsing next to yours, his breathing heavy against your neck. he kissed your flushed skin. “are you okay, baby?” he asked quietly, his lips brushing against the skin of your neck with his words.

your answering contented sigh told him everything he needed to know. he giggled. “you feel good, princess?” his arm was around your middle, holding you closer to him in an awkward post coital embrace. “feeling a little spacey?”

“mhm.”

he kissed your jaw before pushing himself up on weakened arms and slowly pulling out of you. his cum spilled onto the sheets.

“baby!” he playfully scolded. “i said to not let any of this spill.” his fingers tickled your sides, causing you to squirm and giggle. your squirming caused more of his cum to leak out of you. “baby! you’re letting more out!” he teased as he continued his tickle attack. “oh my gosh and here i thought you were my good girl.”

“i am!” you fought back, pushing his tickling hands away. and he let you.

he looked down at you, his eyes sparkling, literal heart eyes as he stared at you. “i love you.” he said.

“i love you.” you answered.

he leaned forward and pecked your lips before retreating to the bathroom for a warm cloth.

ᯓᡣ𐭩

i really didn’t expect so many people to be so stoked about this post. it made me nervous! lol i hope it lived up to everyone’s expectations. pls let me know your thoughts.

♡ pls reblog if you liked it! it truly helps a lot and makes me smile :) ♡

©hyunjins-orange-slice-too i do not give permission for this work or any of my work to be translated, copied, or reposted.

@httpdwaekki @bangchansslut6 <33

[nereidprinc3ss]

just like heaven

in which flirty!reader finally confesses her feelings to a pining spencer reid after a night out. she's slightly buzzed. it's complicated.

fluff (some angst) warnings/tags: fem!reader, reader drinks alcohol, dirty jokes, so much flirting and banter, some arguing kinda, but spencer is such a gentleman, everyone gets flustered at least once, they really wanna kiss, happy ending a/n: gif :D I hope u like this! not bandages reader but like same vibes. like an AU for my AU

“Emily!”

You drawl the ee sound long, the same way you reach across the table and wiggle your fingers at her half-empty glass. Thin dark brows dart up beneath that glossy sweep of reddish-black hair. 

“Oh, wow. That’s unsettling. What?”

It’s been at least an hour since you had a drink of your own, but enough alcohol is still flowing through your veins so as to render her offensive comment inoffensive. You love Emily. You love the Tequila Sunrise sweating onto the sticky table in front of her which she’s not going to finish. 

“I think she wants your drink,” JJ assists, cheek balanced tipsily on a propped up fist. 

“Uh…”

Emily’s doe-sweet eyes flash uncertainly behind you. 

“I’m basically sober,” you insist, laying your head on your outstretched arm and letting your hair cascade as you bat your lashes, offering her your sweetest smile. “Please, Em?”

It does not go according to plan. She scoffs. 

“Are you flirting with me right now?”

“... Would that work?”

“Oh my god, just… cool it with the fuck-me eyes,” she laughs. “You can have the drink.”

You sit up, turning just barely over your shoulder to address Spencer. 

“See? Emily buys me drinks. Basically.”

She slides the drink toward you, with a subtle roll of her eyes that you choose to interpret as affectionate under the dim canned lighting. As you sit back, content and free drink in hand, her eyes slide to Reid in the seat next to you, brows arching. 

“Are you sure you can handle her all on your own?”

“Handle me?” You frown deeply as Emily gathers her purse and slides out of the booth, followed shortly thereafter by JJ. “I don’t need handling.”

“Then why do you have a handler?” JJ teases.

You slump against the worn vinyl, stirring what is mostly orange juice. 

“He most definitely is not my handler. He’s my science project.”

“I got it,” Spencer assures your friends, with his trademark flattened smile. You can’t help but watch him with a grin of your own, flipping the straw in the drink and nibbling on the end until it’s stained sparkly pink. Goodbyes are issued, and soon it’s just the two of you. Perhaps it’s a tipsy delusion, but you think he seems to relax slightly when you’re alone. His eyes are easy on you. “You know, you’re not actually decreasing the amount of germ transmission by using the other end of the straw.”

“Mm… pretty sure alcohol kills germs, Doctor.”

At that, you giggle. 

Doctor. 

Soon you’re covering your face and having a full-fledged laugh attack. 

“What?” Spencer asks. From between your fingers you can see that he’s smiling guardedly, brows furrowed in a way that reminds you he’s often worried about being the butt of a joke and not knowing it. “What’s funny?”

“Nothing,” you assure him quickly, gathering yourself. “I just… can’t believe you’re a doctor.”

“Why not? What’s so unbelievable about that?”

“You’re so young.”

And handsome. 

“I’m not that young. I’m older than you,” he defends. Only by a handful of years, but you know he’s defensive about his age after a lifetime of being told he looks young for—well, everything. 

“You’re… 32?”

That’s not right—you know as soon as you say it.

“Thirty three.” He very politely captures a hand—your hand—that had at some point ended up a little too close to his eye. You’re not sure what you planned to do once it got there—you don’t recall moving it at all. 

“Sorry.” You take your hand back, choosing to instead fiddle with a button on his coat ponderously. “33 is a good age.”

“Yeah?” Spencer laughs, angling his head as if to regard you from a new angle. It warms you all over. Burns in some places, like a shot of liquor down your throat. Makes you just as dizzy, too. “You have a lot of experience being thirty three?”

“No, I just…” your cheeks heat and you wrestle with a timid smile, averting your gaze and dropping your hand for fear his grin this close up might actually kill you. “I like 33 year old you.”

“So… you didn’t like me when I was thirty two?”

“Stop,” you beg, a self-effacing laugh into the cup of your palm. “I can’t banter. I’m not at peak performance.”

The truth of it hits you, and you sigh, folding your arms on the table and resting your cloudy head. Only then, from this new perspective, do you allow yourself to fully admire Spencer Reid. He is smiling at you, and your heart does skip a beat like you’ve got some school girl crush. These days he wears his hair falling over his face, messy on purpose, and always smells so nice. You wonder when he started caring about that stuff. You want to see what products are in his shower, and learn why he chose that cologne, or how he decides to pair his socks. He probably has some sort of algorithm. 

“Spencer,” you begin, the serious quality of your voice diminished by the smush of your cheek against your arm. Still, he tries to respect your tone, zipping the smile and answering with a playfully twitching brow. 

“Hm?”

You want to push the hair out of his face. Why is he looking down at you like that? Like he likes you?

“You’re a very good handler.”

His eyes narrow as he considers this, but the glimmer in them could still spark a forest fire. You’re probably grinning like an idiot. 

“Oh, I couldn’t handle you. You know this.”

You hum thoughtfully. 

“I bet you could. Wanna try?”

Spencer shakes his head, huffing a laugh through his nose. To his credit, your bold-face innuendos don’t always send him into a tailspin these days. 

Just sometimes. 

“You need a ride home, don’t you?”

You sit back up, stretching your arms out. 

“You don’t have to. I could get a cab.”

“I know,” he assures you, still a hint of amusement playing at the corners of his lips. Why. Is. He. Looking. At. You. Like. That?

“Will you let me drive?”

“I would. But, you know, my affairs aren’t in order.”

You roll your eyes as he gets out of the booth and offers you a hand. 

“I’m not that drunk.”

Spencer just wiggles his fingers. 

“If you can recite the alphabet in reverse you can drive my car.”

You roll your eyes again. Obviously he’s fucking with you, because 1. He’d never let you drive even the slightest bit inebriated, and 2. He knows you can’t say your ABC’s backward when you’re dead sober. 

The truth is you’re more buzzed than anything. You could get up and walk fine without any assistance, but he’s offering you his hand, so you take it. After you’re standing, you wonder how many excuses could you possibly dream up to get it back in yours. Should you pretend to fall?

No. Not quite worth your self respect. 

“You know…” you muse, reveling in the brief brush of him against your back as he holds open the door for you, “it’s a good thing you didn’t become, like… a medical doctor.”

Now walking side by side on the street, he glances over at you, a poorly veiled smile on his perfect face. Like a trap door brushed over with a few leaves. He wants you to see it.

“Why’s that?”

A breeze ruffles your hair. The brisk cold and the walk seem to be making things crisper already. You shrug, bunching your sleeves in your hands against the increasingly frigid night. The skirt and tights you’d chosen were perfect for a stuffy dive bar. Not so much for an early DC spring. 

“Nobody wants a hot doctor.”

He looks down at the sidewalk, hands pocketed, but the curve of his lips doesn’t lessen.  

“Hm. You’re drunker than I thought.”

“What? No! I’m—barely!” Again he laughs at you, and again you flush, looking down and counting the cracks in the pavement as you journey slowly under the bath of yellow street lights. “Why do you say that?”

“Because you called me hot.” He sounds almost delighted as he grins sheepishly around the final word. 

You snort. You’ve said worse things, more graphic things within the past few hours alone—but you suppose they’ve all been more like dirty jokes than compliments. 

“Yeah. You think you aren’t?”

Sandy locks fall side to side as he carefully measures a response. His cologne is warm—sort of smoky. It’s very nice. He doesn’t seem like he’d wear cologne. Have you already thought about his cologne tonight? Once was probably enough. 

“I just think sober you wouldn’t have said that.”

“But don’t you prefer it when I’m aggressively flirting with you? I mean, I know I do it sober too, but it's not as good, right?”

A silent stretch begins and shortly ends, and you don’t mind it. Right now, everything is a winding path through the woods. You’re willing to follow any fork off the trail if it means spending more time with him. 

“I guess I wasn’t aware that was what you were doing.”

“Oh, bullshit,” you laugh, and it echoes through the canyon of a nearby alley, “I’m not subtle, Reid.”

“I don’t know! You—for all I know that’s just how you are! I mean, what did Emily call them earlier, your—your fuck-me eyes?”

Like he does when he’s flustered, he gets shrill and stuttery. It’s nice to be reminded that he’s still a complete dork on the inside—and the outside, too, as pink stains his cheeks like watercolor. You smirk at him in your periphery, watching him against the darkened city backdrop. 

“You noticed those, huh?”

“No,” he denies forcefully, but his brow is pinched like he doesn’t quite believe himself, “I mean, yes, I notice when you look at other people like that, but that’s not what I would call them—I wouldn’t call them anything, I’d just call them your eyes, you know? Not that you always look like you’re soliciting… the implication isn’t there, it’s just—I notice when you flirt with other people! With Emily, and Derek, like, not even half an hour ago. You’re lucky Hotch wasn’t there. You’d probably have given him a heart attack.”

“I’m more concerned with yours, to be honest.”

“My heart is fine,” he laughs. “Worry about my dignity.”

“Hm. I was going for both. Guess I’d better try harder.”

You don’t notice you’ve come to a stop until you’re face to face in front of his vintage Volvo. Spencer is standing closer than usual, hands perpetually stuck in that nice wool coat. He’s all windswept and pretty, smiling crookedly and eyes sparkly with humor. A strand of hair sticks to your lip gloss, and you brush it away, tucking it behind your ear and squinting up at him against the chilly breeze. The flush is either from the nip in the air or your brazen flirting. 

“Or, you could go easy on me. I’m frail. Like a… sickly Victorian child.”

Again his brow knits and he smiles like he knows what he’s said is ridiculous. But his tone is gentler now. Softer. Invites you to fall in deeper and see what you might find. 

“And ruin all my fun? Toughen up, Reid.”

For a long moment, you don’t get a response—only his eyes, soft and thoughtful on you, before you’re distracted by the sweet bow of his lips. If he notices you’re staring, it doesn’t seem to bother him. 

But something evidently does, as when he next speaks, it’s troubled. Curiosity straining against a rope that says maybe it’s better if I don’t ask. 

“Do… do you actually flirt with me? When you’re sober, I mean.”

He expects to be ridiculed. In his most vulnerable moments, he’s still bracing for rejection—turning his cheek slightly so he’s ready for the stinging blow. It opens a fissure in your chest. You frown, and speak gently. 

“Yeah, Spence. More than anyone else. You really don’t notice?”

Sometimes his face is so expressive, in the pull of his brow and tightening of his eyes and the way he wets his lips. But he probably doesn’t know that. And he can’t seem to meet your eyes, instead choosing to study the leather of your heeled boots. Sounds of late-night traffic, of tires on wet asphalt buffer the pauses between sentences. 

“I notice… when you talk to Derek and Emily and JJ and Penelope the exact same way you talk to me. I didn’t think…”

Another gap in conversation, filled with the chatter of some group pouring out of a bar somewhere. You realize he’ll need some gentle prompting to bridge it. 

“You didn’t think what?”

When his eyes flash back up to meet yours, you have a feeling like he’s shutting the pipes off. 

“It’s—uh—” he clears his throat— “it’s not important, we can—we’ll talk about it a different time. We should—”

“Wait.”

He’d been turning away but snaps right back to look at you as if on command, wearing a brand new face that tells you he’d like to wipe the past minute or so completely away. 

“Yeah?”

“Spencer. I wanna know what you were going to say.”

“I told you. It’s nothing.”

“You didn’t tell me. You mumbled evasively and walked away. We were in the middle of something and I want to know what you were going to say. Please?”

“Well, you’re drunk,” he finally sighs, and it’s a bit sharp. Stinging. 

“I am not drunk,” you defend, and it feels true, with a bitter cold lashing at your cheek and blood heightened from the walk. “You know I’m not too drunk to have a coherent conversation. Why are you being weird?”

“Because I asked you to drop it! We can’t have this conversation right now, all right? I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

Your stomach flips, and your breath comes a little heavier. Spencer is clearly frustrated with you. Maybe being on the wrong end of this mild vexation, and so suddenly, should make you feel guilty, or some kind of bad—but all you feel is a sort of buzz in the tips of your fingers and the thrum of your heart, something deeper than excitement pooling in your veins at having inspired this sort of passion. It means he feels something. Something for you. 

“I’m sorry,” he tries halfheartedly, unable or more likely unwilling to stay angry at you for very long, “you didn’t—”

“What conversation?”

It’s jarring how quickly this has spun on its head. The very air you’re breathing seems to have changed. The metropolitan soundscape is a rife undercurrent of tension and louder from all the words unsaid. 

Finally he swallows. 

“There’s no conversation. I’m—it was a poor choice of wording. I just meant we should get you home.”

Before he can make it to the driver’s side door, you’re calling out. 

“You think I don’t like you. And I just flirt with you ‘cause I flirt with everyone.”

Spencer stops, and turns to face you once more, sighing and head dropped to one side like you’re doing something incredibly inconsiderate. He’s never looked at you like that before, but you don’t let it shake you. 

“That’s what this is about, right?”

He says your name, but you don’t let him get further than that. 

“No, I think there is a conversation here, and saying I’m not sober enough to have it isn’t fair and you should have said something before and I think you should just say it now.”

You’re pushing his buttons with a heavy hand, though your own voice shakes. He’s feeling it too—you’ve never been so short with each other. His voice is raised. 

“What am I supposed to say?” 

It boils over. 

“That you like me!”

It rings. 

Then it’s silent. 

His face is mostly blank. A little sorrowful around his eyes. 

It’s cold, jumping into the deep end like this. 

“We can’t talk about this right now,” he finally says, glancing to the side as if to suggest a situation the size of the whole city. 

“Spencer, I—”

“It’s impossible to have a meaningful discussion until your judgement isn’t impaired, otherwise it’s—”

“I am telling you that I flirt with you because I really like you.”

“I—”

It appears you’ve truly thrown him for a loop.  For a moment his jaw works at nothing, a soliloquy of words go unspoken, and then he’s stuttering and fumbling for the right thing to say, looking everywhere but at you. 

“I can’t—that’s—regardless of whether or not it’s even true—”

“It is true.”

“Could you—stop?” He pleads. “You can’t tell me that. I mean, the power imbalance when you’ve been drinking and I haven’t—it’s—I mean, it's coercive. Because I brought it up, I asked an inappropriate question—or at least started to ask it, and you—not that it was your fault, I’m the responsible party in this instance, but if tomorrow you realize you never wanted to tell me—so I have to take that with a grain of salt. I’m just—I have to pretend I didn’t hear that, alright? And you can’t say it again.”

He’s ridiculous. You shift your weight onto one foot casually. 

“That’s not very nice. I just confessed to having a huge crush on you and you’re gonna leave me hanging?”

There is an undeniable sort of pleasure in the bright of his eyes, and you phrased it that way on purpose, just to see him preen and glow—also to see if you could make him trip all over himself some more. Right now, despite the liminal space your relationship may or may not be occupying, you’re teasing him like you always do. Like he’s a friend, because he is. Before anything else. 

He tries to glower, barely. 

“Were you listening to me at all?”

“It was hard with all the stammering. I thought you might pass out.”

“I might,” he grumbles, and the admission pleases you greatly. Your lips tug as you admire him for a moment—watch his defenses go down and his features ease into something more inviting. 

God, maybe you really had been too hard on him. Maybe he really didn’t expect that you would like him back. 

You’re struck with the need to reassure. 

A dampened clack emits from your shoe where the heel hits the ground as you step down off the curb. 

“You know… I do like you. A lot. I mean it. And I’m glad I told you, because... you like me too, right?”

He raises his brows, like don’t do anything stupid, as you approach unhurriedly. It’s good to see that you haven’t broken his spirit completely. 

Less than a foot away, you stop. Close enough to be in his space. Too far for him to have the grounds to step back. 

His eyes are careful on you, analytical as always, constantly predicting an infinite number of outcomes to any given scenario. That’s how he keeps his footing in the world. But he’s never very good at predicting you. And it helps that his razor sharp intellect is dulled, some, with affection. Attraction. 

It shows in his eyes. He’ll let you push boundaries he knows he shouldn’t. More so if you keep speaking to him this softly. Almost whispering.

“Tell me you like me, Spencer.”

Because he hasn’t yet. All the heavy lifting has been done for him, and that just won’t do. 

First, he opens his mouth, and you watch the internal debate, a million things he could say, spinning round in his eyes like pinwheels. Rules, and buts, and caveats.

In the end, he just clears his throat. Speaks in the same secretive tone. Low enough to be intimate.

“I like you.”

Such a simple thing has never made you feel so airy before in your life. You steal another glance at his lips.

“So it’s really not that complicated. We could probably just kiss.”

He tinges pink.

“We definitely can’t.”

“You also said we couldn’t talk about it, and yet…”

“Talking is different. As far as I’m concerned, nothing you say to me tonight is binding. Whatever just transpired happened completely off the record. We can… talk about it tomorrow, but right now, you and I are friends.”

You shrug.

“Friends can kiss.”

“No, they can’t,” he says definitively, though not without a healthy dose of sardonic self-awareness and a dark smile. His hand finds your waist, and it’s glancing, if anything a light push, but you’re delighted nonetheless. Almost as pleased as if he really had kissed you. “It’s cold. I’m ready to leave.”

You’ve pushed him enough for one night. And it is cold. So you shuffle around the car with quick steps to the passenger side door, hooking your fingers under the biting metal handle and waiting for him to unlock the vehicle. 

You’re shivering as your thighs press against leather upholstery, only the thinnest layer of synthetic material protecting your legs. Spencer is already starting the car, but the engine is too cold to bother turning the heat on yet. 

“I think it’s colder in here than outside. Look at my hand.” You hold it up for him, and it is discolored, waxy, as he mindlessly takes it between his own much warmer ones. “I thought alcohol was supposed to keep you warm. Didn’t that chef on the Titanic survive hours in the ocean because he was hammered?”

“That’s a myth. Not the chef—he did survive, but it was a complete anomaly. Alcohol causes vasodilation in the dermis layer of the skin, so you feel warmer, but it draws blood flow away from your internal organs and significantly raises your likelihood of developing hypothermia.”

Does he notice how he’s holding your hand? Carefully pressing his thumbs to the center of your palm and pushing up through your love and life lines, cupping the fingers, before sandwiching them between his own and generating friction the way a child furiously rolls a play-doh worm?

“I guess I’m really not that drunk, then.”

He’s not expecting it, and maybe he doesn’t know what to make of your exceptionally gentle tone at first. It was a mistake, you think, as he relinquishes his hold on your hand, and you curl it to retain the memory of his warmth. But then he tucks hair behind your ear, like he’s done once or twice before, and smiles in a way you don’t quite understand. 

“I know.”

You won’t push him. You won’t ask for anything else, and you won’t demand an explanation. Spencer is special. It can all wait, because you have something good with him already. Something important. Something like holding hands. 

It comes as a surprise when he leans across the console, and you lean in a trance to meet him, and another surprise when he gently redirects, pressing his lips to your cheek, close enough to match the corners of your mouths and nothing more. 

You’d let him do it a hundred times over, but he draws back after a fraction of a lingering second, and finds your hand to stroke the back of it, forgotten in your lap. 

“You said no kissing,” you murmur, as if in a dream. If you had the wherewithal to be embarrassed maybe you wouldn’t be ogling so much. 

“Compromise.”

If anything, you should be the cheek-kisser. But there will be time to feel slighted about that later. Time to amend. For now, you look ahead robotically. 

“Is there a rule against friendly hand-holding?”

“Probably,” he says.

But he lets you hold his hand in your lap the whole drive to your apartment, anyway. 

[lollixp0p]

The Video (18+)

Pairing: Best friend!Hwang Hyunjin x afab!reader

Genre: Smut (MDNI), bit of feelings

Word count: just under 3k!

Warnings: Idol!au, subby!Hyunjin, slightly perv!reader, recording, (maybe a bit dub con because he doesn't mean to send it but reader watches it anyway), mommy kink, masturbation (both but separately), Hyunjin fantasizes about reader, reader fantasizes about Hyunjin, lmk if I missed anything!!

Summary: Hyunjin finally gets some alone time after weeks of hard work and decides to use his time to... relax. The next day he ends up sending you something on accident that sets off a big change in your lives, with or without either of you really realising.

Note: My first ever fic!! :3 Inspired by a video I saw on phub. (@cbini (Ems isn't on Tumblr rn she still wanted to be tagged so I hope it's ok), @comet-falls, @hyunsvngs, @mnwrld and @skz-hell lmao hello everyone, writing blog reveal!!😁 here's this fic I've mention to all of you as an anon<3 (depending on who you are I'm either ❄️anon, 🐾anon or sounding anon😳)). To anyone reading this please give me literally any feedback (comment, reblog, anything!), I want to know if this is good or not since it's my first fic🙏😣

Please do not under any circumstance copy, translate, or repost my works!

It's been exactly three weeks since Hyunjin's had any time for just himself, though it feels like months at this point.

Recently everyone's been running around like headless chickens and between vocal trainings, dance practices and the studio, there hasn't been much time to just relax and recharge. Preparing for a new album really is the busiest time of an idols life.

There hasn't even been time to see family or friends, which is common during busy spells like this, but always dissapointing to think about. Now even more so, with how much he's been wishing to spend time with you, one of his closest friends... who also happens to be his crush. Not that he'd ever let you know though, not in a very long time.

It feels almost like a blessing, getting back to the dorms from practice late in the evening and realising... he's got the place all for himself, at least until his roommates get back from the studio.

Changbin had messaged him earlier, telling him that they'd probably be there well past midnight, so there was no use waiting up for them. To him though, this was the very opposite of an issue. With that much free time, he'd definitely be able to... make himself comfortable, so to speak.

See, not having time to relax also means he'd basically had no time to get off. The best he'd been able to do had been quick little sessions barely once a week in the shower right before passing out on his bed from the exhaustion of working hard.

The realisation that he'd be able to do anything he wants during his time alone is enough to get his dick twitching in his jeans and he decides the shower can wait until later.

Hyunjin goes to his room and locks the door after himself even though he's alone, it's just become a habit after so many years living with his members. He sets his bag down next to his bed and thinks through his plan.

Hyunjin has a little secret, which is that he loves recording himself do dirty things that range from more vanilla to much less vanilla. Something about the thrill of being recorded even if no one will ever see it just... makes him so fucking horny.

He opens the camera of his phone, puts it to video mode and presses record. Moving his hand off the lense and setting it down where he normally sets it, on the carefully placed pile of books on his desk, he sits down on his bed.

"Hmm... I hope the angle's good... It's been so long since I've had time for this", Hyunjin sighs with a pout and brushes his hair out of his eyes. He knows the camera won't see it though because he's made sure the stand, his pile of books, is at a level that cuts off his head perfectly.

Hyunjins hands run down his body slowly and he exhales deeply, just loud enough to get picked up by his phone. Once they reach his jeans he unbuttons them, unzips the zipper, then pulls the jeans down just enough to expose his underwear. Hyunjin pulls his shirt up over his stomach to be held in place under his chin, rubs his hand over his bulge and hums.

It's been so long since the last time he's been able to take his time making himself feel good. It's almost embarrassing how quickly he's getting hard.

He takes his dick out his boxers and then spits on the palm of his right hand. It's dirty and wet but it just turns him on even more. He grabs his dick with the hand and slowly moves his fist up and down, to spread the saliva and precum all over his dick to make the slide easier and wetter but to also get himself to full hardness.

"A-ah, ohh... that's so good... Feels-fuck, feels so good", Hyunjin sighs. It really won't take him too long to cum, he just knows it. He's been pent up for far too long.

He tries to think of something to help his issue and immediately thinks of you, no matter how embarrassed or dirty it makes him feel.

When you first started showing up in the dirtiest corners of his mind he felt so ashamed. Now it doesn't matter to him anymore. You'll never find out so why feel bad?

He continues to move his hand on his dick while thinking of you. The last time the two of you had time to hang out together you'd worn the lowest cut shirt he'd ever seen on you. He had tried so hard to act normal around you but whenever you bent down he'd been able to see into your shirt.

"Haah, fuck..." , he squeezes himself a little harder at the memory. Everytime you moved he could see your bra poking out from the top, black and lacy. The entire time he'd been doing his best to not bust in his pants. Oh, what he'd give to be able to see your tits. They always looked so soft and they'd probably fit perfectly into his palms.

Whenever the both of you would hang out at yours, watching movies and just hanging out, you never bothered to wear a bra. Why would you? It is your house where you want to be as comfortable as possible.

The feeling of laying down on your couch watching a movie with you on top of him, in just a t-shirt, will end up driving him mad one day. Everytime he'd felt your nipples poking into him he'd almost moaned out loud.

"Hngh... Oh my god, please... m-mommy!", he lets out pathetically, moving his fist faster. God he just wants you to use him, to do anything you want to him. The thought makes him whine desperately.

One of the most common fantasies for him is you on top of him using him to get off, not caring about if he's close or not. You'd sit on his face and ride it until you cum. He could probably cum untouched like that. All he'd need was tasting you and seeing you cum, just for him.

All the sudden he remembers the phone recording him and he shudders. He imagines what your reaction would be to seeing him like this. Would you be disgusted or delighted? Would you tell him what to do and how to touch himself? Maybe you'd touch him... He hopes you would.

"Mommy... please touch me, aah- oh!", he runs his thumb over the head of his cock just right and his thighs twitch but he keeps them open, in perfect view to the camera.

Throwing his head back he imagines you riding him. You'd be so tight and wet around him. Maybe you'd tie his hands behind his back so he wouldn't be able to touch you... he'd really like that. You'd feel godly around him, Hyunjin thinks.

"Fuck, oh fuck! Mommy I'm-haah, I'm so close, please!", his dick twitches desperately. You're so gorgeous, to him you're the sexiest person he's ever seen. He feels himself getting so close that tears spring to his eyes.

"Ah- 'm gonna... mommy, gonna cum...!", he whines out long and loud. It takes Hyunjin two more strokes to let go and he cums the hardest he's cum in weeks. He doesn't even register whispering your name. Hyunjin leans back on his left hand and keeps stroking himself through it.

The feeling is overwhelming, so much so that his thighs start twitching pathetically and the tears in the corners of his eyes fall. He's getting incredibly overstimulated but he keeps going, wanting to keep enjoying the feeling, just a bit more.

He squeezes himself one last time and suddenly everything on him feels gross and dirty. He's just had the best orgasm in weeks so it's no surprise that he came a lot, everywhere. He even managed to get some on his chin.

"Fuuck... Did you-haah... did you enjoy that?", he chuckles to the phone. It takes a while for him to come down from the high, the twitchiness and the feeling of euphoria lingering in his body. Once he's capable of standing up again he stops the video.

With his body feeling like jelly, he takes off all his clothes, drops them into his hamper and prepares to shower, at last.

Hyunjin wakes up to his alarm the next day feeling more refreshed than he's felt in weeks. He shuts off the still ringing alarm and quickly gets up from his bed to get dressed and go eat breakfast.

Checking the calendar on his phone to make sure he knows his schedule for today, he makes a note of one thing; he'd have a lot of time alone at the dorms today too, since he's only got a dance practice and a recording session today, which obviously means 3racha will stay behind to stress about their songs while Hyunjin can return early. Maybe this time he should continue the latest piece of art he's been working on after he gets back?

Hyunjin gets through the day well enough.

After eating breakfast he messages you a "Good morning pretty <3 please remember to drink water!" like every morning when he has time for it. He gets to the practice room only five minutes late, which is a record this early in the morning, because usually he ends up sleeping in at least ten minutes (which makes Chan scold him for being such a heavy sleeper).

He does well at practice, even though he ends up a little exhausted. That's nothing new though, with how hard they always work to be the best they can be.

The rest of the members leave to take a break but Hyunjin decides to stay behind to film the solo choreography he's been working on for fun. Once he's happy with how it's turned out, it's time for him to go record his lines.

The recording session goes smoothly, without hundreds of retakes and everyone's satisfied with the result. Afterwards they decide to order some take-out, as a reward for a job well done... and also because they're all feeling too lazy to even think about going to the dorms to cook.

While eating Hyunjin finally realises to check his phone again. "Good morning, take care of yourself too!! :)" is your response to what he sent earlier. It's nothing more than a kind response but it makes him grin to himself like the fool in love he is.

"Yaaah!! Hyunjinnieee, what's making you smile so beautifully?", Changbin leans towards him with his signature flirting-with-Hyunjin grin, mouth half full of rice.

"It's nothing," Hyunjin responds back to him cheeks red, "and don't talk with your mouth full hyung... Do you not have any respect?"

Changbin decides to drop it in favor of eating more delicious food.

"Oh come on... we wanna know!!", Han pouts at him from his seat on the couch in the room. Hyunjin shoves another mouthful of food in his mouth to avoid the embarrassement of explaining how a single text messaged from you manages to make his heart beat out of his chest.

Once Hyunjin's done eating he's free to go back to the dorms and just like he suspected the rest of his dormmates stay behind to work some more, although they all whine at him to stay to explain the previous mystery. He declines and they all keep their sad puppydog eyes on him until he's out the door.

He keeps texting you during his ride, all the way to the dorms. Once he's in his room Hyunjin decides to just change into some clean clothes. He's too excited to talk to you and get to painting, he can wash up later.

He lays in his bed to keep texting you and at some point your conversation changes from how your day's been going to talking about dancing and he mentions how he just today filmed a new choreography bit he's made for fun.

❣️:

Can I see what you've been working on? :)

I'm sure it's really good, you always are!!

Jinnie:

Well... since you asked so nicely😉

[video sent]

Quickly sending the video Hyunjin exits out the messaging app, feeling so giddy he can't help but squirm around on his bed. He still can't believe someone like you could be interested in seeing him dance.

It might seem like a small thing for most but he feels himself turning red just thinking about the way you look at him while he talks about something so important to him. It makes the butterflies in his stomach every time you're near go crazy. It's so attentive, like you actually care and are interested in his interests... and maybe even...?

'No' , he thinks to himself. There's probably no way you could ever actually be interested in him, not in the same way he's interested in you at least.

He leaves his phone charging and finally gets out of bed to go to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. He'd need it if he wanted to stay up late to work on his newest art piece.

Hearing the familiar 'ping' notification of receiving a message makes you open your phone again and just like you thought, Hyunjin had sent you the video of his latest masterpiece of a choreography. Not waiting a second you press the video just to see.... Hyunjin take his hand off the camera and set the phone down on the desk in his room he draws on. He sits down on the edge of his bed and says something, you aren't really sure what, because the volume's too low. In confusion you turn it up more.

Hyunjin sighs and reaches up to move his hair out his face, probably. You can't see it though, because the camera cuts his face perfectly off frame. Suddenly his hands run down his body to the button on his jeans. He opens it and starts undoing the zipper next. You just look at the video in shock. 'He isn't about to... to take them off is he?', you think to yourself, just as he pulls the jeans down enough to expose his white boxers and then palms his bulge.

Should you stop watching? Keep watching? How long has it even been playing? How long does it keep playing? While you wonder this you almost miss Hyunjin pull his hard dick out of his underwear and spit on his palm and... Oh God...

You've now done something you can never take back. The downright sinful view of his cock is something you don't think you're ever going to be able to forget. How do you even face him after this? After watching him grasp his dick in his hand and pump it a couple of times to spread the spit and precum around.

You exit the video, panting and absolutely soaking through your underwear. Your other hand rushes to your face to feel your cheeks. They're burning and feel like you've been standing out in the sun for hours, when in reality all you've done is accidentally watch your best friend play with himself.

You struggle to decide what to do with the video and in the end save the video without much thinking, then delete the message of it and decide to notify him of his mistake. As long as he doesn't know you saved it, it should be fine, right?

It takes Hyunjin less than 10 minutes to make and get the coffee. He returns to his room humming the tune of a song he's had on repeat recently. Setting the coffee down on the desk and taking his phone off from the charger he notices new messages from you.

❣️:

Uhm...😕

Hyunjin, I don't think you meant to send that.

He looks at his screen confused. What did you mean by that? He...

Oh God.

Did he send the wrong video?

Frantically opening the video he sent earlier he sees himself, in video, move his hand off the phone camera and set it down the desk near his bed and sit down. Oh no...

"Hmm... I hope the angle's good... It's been so long since I've had time for this", video Hyunjin sighs and reaches up to move his hair from his eyes. His head may be out of frame but he clearly remembers pouting while saying this. He watches himself slowly unbutton and unzip his pants, adjusting them so that his boxers are clearly visible in frame. In the video his hand drifts towards his crotch slowly, teasingly.

He quickly exits the video and promptly shoves his head under his pillow and yells. He'd accidentally sent the wrong video while hurrying to get a cup of coffee. How could he have messed up this bad? In his panic, it takes him a moment to respond.

Jinnie:

Oh god

I'm so sorry!!

Please don't watch that!

❣️:

Don't worry!!!

I stopped watching the moment you started unzipping your pants😖

I saw nothing, promise!🙏 It's been deleted already!! 

Little does he know though, you'd kept the video. You're not really sure why, but subconciously your brain keeps screaming' to finish it later, of course'.

...

Fuck it, you don't think you can wait until later.

Taking a deep breath, you open your gallery to find the video he sent you. You hesitate for a second but press play anyway. You can feel how you're already soaking through your underwear but pay no mind to it yet.

You watch him do the things you've seen already, all the way until he spits in his hand... and you pause the video. 'Is it right to watch this? I mean, he didn't mean to even send it...', you think to yourself.

But the thought of seeing him touch himself, to hear him make the sweetest noises you could ever in your wildest dreams imagine him making drives you on.

Pressing play again you dip your fingers into your pants. You rub yourself over your underwear and oh my god... you can't believe the wetness you feel after less than a minute of watching the video. You focus on the phone you're holding in your other hand and finally move your fingers into your underwear to directly touch your pussy.

On your screen you see Hyunjin start to stroke himself faster, the head of his dick a dark pink, you can feel his desperation through the screen. Without thinking you move your fingers to your clit and start rubbing it in circles, aided by the wetness of your leaking pussy.

He moans out loud and even though you can't hear it through the fog in your head, you know he's desperate. You move your fingers down to your hole and dip two of them in. You're so wet you barely need to even stretch yourself out and then he does it.

"Hngh... Oh my god, please... m-mommy!"

You push your fingers deeper and your pussy lets out he lewdest squelch which in turn makes you close your eyes desperately in pleasure. 'Mommy? When he masturbates he calls out for mommy??', the thought makes you lose your mind. You think about what it would be like if he called you mommy in the throes of pleasure.

You want to make him follow every command you give him. The way he'd look up at you on his knees with you standing above him. Maybe you could make him suck on a strap? He'd look so ridiculously delicious with his mouth full, drool dripping down his cheeks.

You add another finger and start rubbing at your clit with your thumb at the same time. The feeling makes you whimper and imagine his hands on you, teaching him how to touch you perfectly. You're getting so close and you remember to focus your screen again.

Hyunjin looks absolutely disheveled. His dick is red and throbbing, you can tell he's getting close. His voice is another thing that gives him away. He's whiny and his voice keeps cracking every time he opens his mouth. Hyunjin bucks into his hand and moans.

"... mommy, gonna cum...!", he strokes himself twice more and then finally cums. You're so close it's maddening. All the sudden you hear him... whisper your name?

It makes you go off the edge and your entire body clenches and seizes while you silently cry out from all the pleasure you're feeling. Your walls suck in your fingers with how you're clenching around them. On the screen Hyunjin twitches violently, working himself through the end of his orgasm.

You pull your fingers out of yourself and slump down on your bed exhausted, but the last 20 seconds of the video that's now over haunts you. Did you hear him right?

You gather strength to pick up your phone again and rewind the video to the part where he cums and turn the volume almost all the way up. Admittedly you end up fixating on the way his dick looks and face twists in pleasure when he cums and then he says, or more like whisper your name. Your brain blanks.

"Fuuck... Did you-haah... did you enjoy that?", he chuckles to the phone, sits in place for a bit to properly come down and then gets up to stop the video.

You're wet, confused and you can feel your heart beat out of your chest. What do you do now? How can you ever face him normally after that... Does he feel the same way you do? Is he sure he didn't mean to send it?

It's all too much to think about, so you decide that instead of thinking about it you'll clean yourself up and... crawl into a hole where no one will ever find you. Probably. The only thing you know for sure is you definitely won't be sleeping tonight.

© lollixp0p 2024 | please do not under any circumstance copy, translate, or repost my works

[barleyo]

Daddy's Girl.

Step Dad! Leon Kennedy X F! Reader (smut)

A/N: Don't like? Don't read! Either way, READ THE TAGS. I'm starting to get pretty weird on this blog, so expect more stuff like this! A girl has to feed her fetishes, so feel free to tag along with me and enjoy what my sick little mind thinks up. Thanks for reading!

Tags: stepcest, step-dad/step-daughter relationship, cream pie, daddy issues, use of "baby girl" and "daddy's girl," daddy kink, oral sex (f receiving), swearing, infidelity, p in v, cream pie, unprotected sex, LARGE AGE GAP (legal), 2nd person POV

Word count: 2.1k

As far as your mother was concerned, your father was worth less than the sum of his parts. He was fleeting idea, a mere concept in both of your lives ever since you could remember. Sure, you remembered a few odd Christmases with a surplus of gifts, all tagged "from Daddy," and a few daddy-daughter dates here and there, but that wasn't enough to make up for his true absence. 

It wasn't a surprise when your mom eventually left him, scooping you up with her. Just you and her, and the rare postcard that your sperm-donor decided to ship off once a year or so. It was good enough then when it was just you two finding your way in the world, but it went downhill when your mom found a new boy toy. 

Leon.

He wasn't a bad guy, by any means. Wasn't pushy, didn't make you call him "dad" or try to impose his will onto you, but his presence made the absence of your real father that much more obvious. You tried to ignore him for the most part, letting your mom have her little relationship with him to tide her over. 

But then they got married. Leon became a more permanent fixture. That was no bueno. 

You toughened it out, being cordial with him until you finally hit that mark of independence: sweet, sweet 18! The big one-eight, your ticket to freedom! 

Everything was planned out for your big day. Mom and Leon made a cake, presents were given, and all birthday wishes granted, except for one. What you really wanted, was for your dad to show up for just this one day, just this once, to have him and not just his money. 

You could never get that lucky, though, and that thought was cemented in your head when you found yourself waiting for him outside of your house. The driveway was empty, not even your mom's car was out there, she still had to head off to work. The world couldn't pause for a birthday girl, it seemed.

Stepping back inside to the house, you slammed the door behind you, practically throwing yourself onto the leather couch in the living room. The tears started faster than you could contain them, and quite honestly, you didn't want to contain them. It was your party, damn it, and you would cry if you wanted to!

"You okay, kid? I heard the door-"

Fuck. Him.

Leon's heavy footsteps made their way down the stairs, leading to his place in front of you. "(Y/N), are you crying?"

You sucked back a breath of air, steadying yourself as much as you could before speaking. 

"No, 'm not, just-- go, just leave me alone." You let your face drop into your hands, staining your sleeves with tears.

Leon, being just the right amount of pushy, took a steps next to you a placed his hand on your shoulder. "Can we talk about it? I mean, I probably know what it is, but we could- you could say whatever you need to say." His face cringed a bit at his own words, feeling like he was already fucking this up. "No judgement."

You kept your face covered but obliged, knowing that talking about it, even with Leon, would make you feel a little better.

"My dad isn't here. He's been promising for weeks that he'd show, but he isn't here."

"Oh."

Your step-dad bit his lip trying to figure out how to make you feel better. He knew you weren't exactly fond of him, but he felt a twinge of responsibility.

"Fuck 'em," Leon finally decided on. "He's a liar and you don't need him. So, fuck 'em. Why would you want a deadbeat to bring you down on your special day?" 

"Because, he's my dad," you said, like it was the most obvious thing. He was right, of course, but the absence still hurt you.

"No dad would stand up a sweet girl like you on her birthday. You only turn 18 once. A real dad wouldn't miss a birthday this monumental for anything. What's he worth, if he can't keep to his word?"

"I guess nothing." You sat up straighter, trying to make yourself calm down. "D'ya think it's, like, my fault? Why doesn't he want to see me?"

He suddenly got really serious, making his grip on your shoulder firm.

"Not at all. You are a wonderful girl. Your mom thinks so, and so do I. You are brilliantly smart, kind, responsible, sweet, gorgeous-- you're perfect and if that scumbag can't see that, then he's beyond saving." 

He loosened his grip, letting his hand fall down to your lap, a bit close to the crotch of your jeans. You didn't look down, trying to convince yourself it was an accident, but he didn't move his hand either.

His other hand came up to your face, holding your cheek and to your own surprise, you leaned into his hand. His big, calloused, confronting hand.

Fuck him.

Something snapped in you when he leaned in for a kiss. God, it was wrong, so wrong, but you were so conflicted. Is this what a father's love really felt like? Hell if you knew, this was close enough in your book.

"Hmph-! Leon..." You pulled away from the kiss, wiping at your mouth roughly to get rid of the salvia strings connecting the both of you. "This is wrong, this isn't okay, my mom-"

"Is not here." 

He placed another kiss on your lips, this one chaste and sweet, so unlike the passionate one you shared before. 

"Just you and me. I know your dad isn't here, but I am. Let me make up for him, baby." His whispers pricked goosebumps over your body, lighting a fire deep in you. "Let daddy love you. Can I show you?"

His big hand looked nearly comical resting against the small button of your jeans, pawing desperately at them. So, so, so wrong. So fucked up, so not okay, so....

"Yes," you said breathily. "Okay, I-I want you to show me. Just be careful please, 'cause.." you trailed off a bit, feeling the pop of your pants opening. 

Leon yanked them down, tossing them away quickly. "Fuck, that's good," he said, pressing his tongue flatly on your mound through your panties. 

The fabric slowly grew a wet patch that clung to you, getting sticky. He placed a soft kiss on your clothed clit, then rested his head on your soft thigh.

"Anybody ever touch you here?" he asked, running a finger over your pussy. 

You softly shook your head, mumbling out a 'no.'

"Mm, more for daddy, yeah? Gonna make you feel so good," he said, slipping your panties to the slide. His mouth made quick work, tongue already gliding up and down on your clit. 

Your face was already twisting up in pleasure, eyebrows knitting together tightly.

"That's cute," he blew cool air over your cunt, keeping his eyes on your face. "You like it? My mouth all over you like this?"

"Mhm, please- don't stop. I wanna feel it again." 

You reached your hand out to hold his head, wanting to push it down before bringing your hand back nervously.

"That's right, push my head down if you want. 'M here to make you feel good, so you use me. Just a wet mouth for you today, sweet girl."

You nodded eagerly, running your hands through his blond hair and taking taking firm purchase of a section of it. Your hands greedily pushed his face into your cunt. The feeling of his nose rubbing against your clit while his tongue dug into your tight hole made you feel fuzzy inside.

Leon was so vulgar with his noises; he almost enjoyed it more than you were. Slurp after slurp came from his mouth, accompanied by a moan or two while he tried to get himself off by palming himself through his pants. 

The sight of him was just as good as the feeling of him. You had never been taken care of so thoroughly. Leon was opening a whole new world to you, a world where you could be selfish and take, because your daddy would provide, no questions asked.

"Lemme try somethin', yeah, baby?"

He shook your hand off and spat directly on your clit, spreading the fat glob with his fingers. Tight, fast circles were traced over your bud, back and forth. It felt like hypnosis, the way he reeled your body in closer to an orgasm. 

"Daddy, please, 'm gonna cum," you said, face flushing of all color. "Your mouth, want your mouth," you shot out quickly, already obsessed with the feeling of his hot mouth tonguing you down.

He obliged, of course. How could he turn his princess down? Leon's lips again wrapped around your clit, sucking on the bud like it gave him life. 

You came soon after. You seized and convulsed and the feeling of his eyes taking you in made the waves of pleasure crash down that much harder over your body. 

"If he knew what a sweet fucking pussy you had," Leon said, licking a final stripe over it, "he'd never wanna leave."

"Wha--?"

"I said," Leon pulled away from your pussy, lifting his head to your ear, "that even your dad would wanna be tongue deep in your sweet, tight cunt. But it's all mine, isn't it?"

The sound of his belt unbuckling made you wetter, if that was possible, but it also sent a sense of realization through you.

You had your pussy in your step dad's mouth. And you liked it. And now, you would let him fuck you. And you would love it. 

"I know you're a virgin, but fuck, baby, you're so tight." His voice was grumbly and strained while he tried to push into you. "Maybe I need to eat you up a little more," he teased.

"No, I need you inside, wanna feel it now." You let yourself go completely. Here you were, whining like a brat while Leon's fat cock stretched you. The pain with sharp, but immediately worth it. He fit inside perfectly, easily hitting your sensitive spots with a few thrusts.

He hissed, feeling you clamp down on his length. "Shh, come on, gotta get used to it baby. Don't want me to cum too quick, do you?"

"Yes, I do," you whined, desperate to know for certain that you were making him feel good too. 

Leon's laugh softly rang in your ears. "No, I wanna make it worth your time. Wish I could take you all night long," he muttered, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. 

He swallowed all of your moans, slipping his tongue into your mouth while he rocked into you. He tried to find a rhythm, but he was too lost in pleasure to be neat about it. 

He'd fuck you nice and orderly another day, but for now? He just wanted to feel you gush around him, and feel your cunt get sloppy while he took you.

Your breathless moans caught his attention. He found the angle that made you get oldest and stuck with it, lifting your hips up with his hands so he could piston into your g-spot.

"Oh my god, right there! That feels-- oh my god."

"I know, baby," he said, thumbs digging into your hipbones. "Feels good f'me too. You're so good for daddy."

Your heart, and cunt, pounded the more he spoke. You were close and you knew it, you just needed him to keep talking you through it. "I am?"

"Yes, baby, you're perfect. Daddy's perfect little princess, taking my cock so good." His cock twitched, so he clenched his jaw, refusing to cum before you did. "You know what good girls get to do?"

"Hmph?" Your face was red and hot, mouth hanging open while he continued to fuck into your spongey walls.

"They cum hard on daddy's cock. Can you do that for me? Cum all on me?" He traced his hand over your cheek, letting his thumb land on your bottom lip while he egged you on.

Your body had never reacted faster, immediately creaming on his length. Your hole milked him, each contraction gripping his length and sucking the cum right out of him. 

Leon let a shaky breath out before pulling out of you, scooping the mixture of your cum in his fingers. He rubbed it between two fingers for a moment and popped it into his mouth, groaning at the taste.

You came down from your own high and looked over at him, feeling guilt pull at your chest.

"Leon."

"Hm?"

"What about mom? She's gonna freak if she ever finds out. Did we fuck up? What's gonna--"

"Hey," he said, shushing you with his finger over your lips. "She's not gonna find out and she doesn't need to know. I might be married to her, and I get why you're stressed, but what we have is different."

He pulled his finger off of your mouth and pressed a kiss to your forehead cheekily. "You're daddy's girl. That makes you special."

[erwinsvow]

what if… rafe ever hit shy reader from built up anger like more of an accident? we lowk need some rafe and shy reader angst😢

this kind of slayed me.. i feel like disclosure i do not condone abuse of any sort i just think shy reader would like getting slapped around and being really roughhoused..

but if rafe reallyyy got mad about it, it might be angsty. like if she really messed up and was apologizing a ton if he actually was mad at her her heart would stop. warning rafe is rlly mean in this

being a little whiney, a little too needy and maybe excessively touchy came easily to you as rafe's girlfriend. he was always coaxing you into being more comfortable with him, and you think you'd finally reached that point.

some of your shyer tendencies seemed to have finally abandoned you when it was just the two of you. and just like you had guessed, a smaller, more possessive side of you had recently emerged from the cocoon—wanting all of rafe's attention, all the time.

it wasn't good, maybe a small part of you knew that, but it was easy to play into it, and you liked how you felt these days, more comfortable in your skin and around rafe than you had been even just a month ago.

like today. you had been a little needy all day, not wanting rafe to leave when he said he needed to go to barry's for picking something up.

"ple-ease rafe," you said it a little singsongy, serious but not that serious. "don't go. i want you to stay." it was more just wanting to hang out with him than anything else—when he left, he was usually gone for ages, and things weren't that fun without him.

"i'll be back, kid. jus' stay here, got it?"

"but you said you would-"

"kid." the way he says it, you should have realized he wasn't in the mood for you to be behaving like this.

"yesterday you said you were free all day. and i get bored-"

"yesterday i didn't know i was doin' this shit. just, please. sit tight. i'll be back."

rafe goes, and though a part of you knows you shouldn't, you blow up his phone throughout the day. really, you're not even that bored—showering and getting ready for the day and then curling up with your book after you make rafe's bed, but you played a little too far into it.

when he comes back, you should have realized something was off—but you let everything else cloud your judgement. the way rafe is never mean to you (despite the stories you had heard), how he always reassures you that he's not mad and that you didn't do anything wrong. you were led to a false belief that nothing you could do would change how rafe acts towards you.

rafe comes to sit on the bed near your feet, and you lower your book to look at him, but don't say anything. when he turns to look at you, you bring the book back up so it looks like you weren't peeking.

"c'mon. y'mad now?"

"no."

"kid, i don't have time for this-"

"you didn't answer any of my texts! or calls. and i've just been waiting here all day-" you don't know what you want—attention, quality time, an apology. you just want something other than what you're getting.

"i told you i'd be back. had shit to take care of-"

"well, i just-"

"why're you actin' like this? huh?"

you think rafe's gonna ask you the things he always does—what's wrong? did someone say something? do i need go have a talk with 'em?

but he doesn't this time.

"spoiled your ass too much and now you wanna talk back? is that it?" you're so taken aback, you think all the air has left your lungs. did rafe really think that? he stands up, so you do too, facing rafe while he paces.

"no, i just-" you're being defensive, like always. you feel like crying—you thought rafe knew you better than that, but it's also not his fault. maybe you were acting too spoiled after all, and maybe despite what he always says, he preferred you how you were when you first started dating him.

"you think m'goin out there to paint nails and gossip with barry? we had shit to do. real shit, so i can take care of you. i thought you understood that."

when you start crying, you think rafe will stop—he always does, stopping to apologize and make sure you're okay.

"tears. great. i'm tryna explain this to you. are you gonna cry everytime i get serious? huh?" it comes out a little more like a bark than a sentence—now you're scared.

"i-i'm sorry," you get out, though it's strangled in a sob and sounds more like a whisper. you don't think he heard you, but your feelings are so hurt—the rush from thinking rafe would be happy to be back home with you crashing and burning quickly, the pit in your stomach that doesn't blame him—but rather blames yourself for your behavior.

you had gotten too comfortable, too pampered, thinking that acting like this was okay—briefly you think it's not rafe's fault at all for getting mad, that it's your own fault for this happening.

you think it's best if you leave, dejectedly heading towards the door, but the second he catches you trying to walk away, he rushes over, pushing you against the door before you can even open it. your back thuds against the frame.

"rafe, you're hurting me-" you cry out, but he seems to be lost in his own anger. "please-"

"didn't say you can leave. what the hell are you doin'? you tryin' to make me mad? huh?"

"rafe, m'sorry, i-"

"actin' like this 'cause you wanna get slapped around? is that it? y'like that too much, don't you? you want me to slap you around now?"

your heart feels like it's just stopped beating. the very idea that rafe would bring up something you had just gotten comfortable with liking, only recently convinced yourself—with his help—that it wasn't wrong or dirty to like those kinds of things with him—slapping and spanking and a whole host of other things you had never even talked about, much less actually done, with anyone other than rafe, in this situation, made fat tears slip down your cheeks.

your boyfriend didn't seem like himself right now. and you were so distraught, if you were a little more clear-headed you might realize his bloodshot, dilated eyes and shaky hands. your arm hurts from where he's holding you tightly.

"rafe, please-" you get out through tears, and he lets you go a little. you slide out of his grip and stay against the door, still crying. before you can even think about it, your cheek is stinging.

he does slap you—not in the light, playful way he does when it's just the two of you somewhere or in the slightly rougher manner reserved for bed—this one is harder, everything hurting.

after it happens, you look up at rafe through glassy eyes. your fingers go to your cheek, pressing down where it was painful, like it would help it go away. but you knew deep down nothing could ever erase this memory.

you look up at rafe and he looks down at you. when you try to turn to open the door, he presses down and slams it shut before you can get out.

[nerdlvr]

both of em' pt.2

(MDNI)

jihyuck x reader , just some light guy on guy kissing yk the usual , like a double blowjob situation , cum eating , bratty switch hyuck , soft? dom ji (soft to you not hyuck LMAO) , reader is just compliant with whatever they want , jerking dicks , tit sucking , pussy eating , kissing everywhere , a lot of spit , requested here !

had you really gone up to not one but two hot guys last night and ask for their numbers? maybe the drinks had fogged your memory, and you made it all up. not even your friend remembers them, i mean, even though she was way drunker than you.

but as you stare at your phone a new group chat containing two random numbers, you think maybe you weren't making things up after all.

993-787-**** : hi, y/n right? this is hyuck

993-787-**** : the cuter one...

767-332-**** : this is jisung... the taller one.

hyuck? : low blow ji, low blow.

jisung? : we're wondering if you're free tonight? unless you didn't actually mean what you said last night.... you did seem pretty drunk

you : yes i was pretty drunk.

you : but yes i'm free.

you : 7712 Neo Avenue. Just knock.

hyuck? : we'll be there baby, 8pm

.

you had watched enough true crime documentaries to know that the first thing they tell you not to do is give your address to strangers. clearly these people had never met hyuck and jisung, cause as they stood at your doorway, breaths heavy, dick prints clear through their sweats, maybe giving your address to these strangers wasn't such a bad idea.

.

they were quick to hound you, hands exploring under your shirt and into your shorts. you knees went weak as jisung kissed your neck softly, a chuckle leaving hyuck's lips as he watched you melt into their arms. he pushed you both onto the couch, your back against jisung's chest as you sat in his lap. jisung was soft, warm, but hyuck was impatient, motioning for jisung to leave your neck alone so he could drag your shirt off. you had no time to feel shy as hyuck positioned himself on jisung's lap, his chest pressed against yours.

"hyuck, what the hell you're heavy!"

jisung pushed the boy's shoulder, a grunt leaving his lips as hyuck shifted his weight,

"why do you even go to the gym, stop whining."

hyuck grabbed your hips pushing you down further into jisung's lap, a soft laugh leaving his lips as he watch jisung's head fall onto your shoulder, his quiet moans filling your ears,

"see? you should be grateful i'm here."

jisung couldn't care less about hyuck's teasing as you ass pressed into his lap, precum seeping through his boxers. hyuck leaned towards your ear, warm breath causing goosebumps to form on your skin,

"keep moving your hips baby, you can do that right? hm?"

you nodded slowly as he placed kisses along your cheek, his hands coming up to cup your breasts through your bra. as your lips parted a soft moan leaving them, hyuck used this opening to slot his lips against yours, his tongue slipping in to explore your mouth. the kiss was wet, maybe alarmingly wet, as spit pooled in your mouth as you both sucked at each others tongues. he let go of your mouth with a soft pop, turning your head to face the boy behind you.

jisung's eyes were glossy, an innocent look on his face as he licked his lips desperately,

"kiss me too."

you leaned into him with a smile, his kiss much softer than hyuck's. he was warm and gentle, tongue hesitantly running across you lips asking for permission. you're mouth opened naturally as hyuck attached his lips to your perked nipple, jisung swallowing your soft moans. his large hands moved down your body and past your shorts, fingers softly grazing your clit. you arched your body into his touch, hyuck's mouth following the curve of your body as he finally got off of jisung's lap to kneel between your legs. jisung's hand were gentle as he pushed your shorts down,

"let's take this off hm? hyuck's waiting so patiently for you baby."

hyuck followed jisung's hands quickly yanking your shorts the rest of the way down,

"patient wouldn't be the word i'd use."

you leaned you head back onto jisung's shoulder your bareness making you shy. your bra had been pulled down enough to expose your breasts, jisung's firm hands holding your legs open as hyuck sat in front of your exposed core.

you winced as you felt hyuck blow cold air onto your glistening folds,

"so wet baby-"

he used his fingers to part your lips, leaning forward to lick a fat stripe up your core,

"and so fucking sweet too."

you heard jisung groan from behind you, the grip on your thighs tightening,

"don't fucking tease hyuck, or i'll get her off myself."

hyuck mumbled a small sorry before diving in to lap at your heat. you gripped jisung's thighs, hyuck's tongue prodding at your dripping entrance. you watched as jisung let go of one of your legs, instead threading his fingers through hyuck's hair and pulling roughly,

"do it right."

hyuck moaned into your cunt as jisung gripped his hair, moving his head along your clit.

"stick your tongue out more- yeah just like that hyuck good boy."

all you could do was moan as jisung rubbed hyuck's tongue against your clit, praising him every time your moans grew louder.

"feels s' good, oh my- hyuck, right there baby."

his soft mhm vibrated along your clit, his slurping growing louder as your legs began to shake.

"keep them open sweet girl, don't want you to hurt hyuck right?"

you nodded not even registering his words as you felt your vision go blurry, the band in your stomach snapping so hard jisung had to wrap his arm around your waist to keep you from sliding down.

you were spent, melting into jisung's grasp not even caring as the two boys laughed at you. you jumped as hyuck slapped the inside of your thigh.

"you don't listen. almost crushed my hea- hello? baby are you listening?"

you nodded slowly head turning to the side to look at jisung. you shook slightly on his chest as he chuckled at your appearance, his lips peppering light kisses around your face,

"you okay pretty? wanna take a break?"

you shook your head. whatever it was you were more than ready to please them. you felt hyuck lift you off jisung's lap, placing you on your knees on the floor. he pinched your cheek, kissing your forehead softly,

"let us know if you wanna stop, because if you don't. i swear-"

you looked up at him with teary eyes,

"don't scare her hyuck. we'll be gentle baby- mostly."

you gulped nervously watching as they pulled down their sweats and boxers in one go, their hard lengths springing free. hyuck was quick to grab his length, stroking it languidly before coming to stand right in front of you. jisung pulled him back clicking his tongue at the shorter boy,

"you got your turn, now you wait."

hyuck's whining was just a distant sound as you watched jisung stand infront of you, his length hard and proud, pink tip flushed and leaking. he grabbed himself, pressing the tip lightly against you lips,

"kiss."

you kisses his tip, hands coming up quickly to hold him. your lips traced down his length, placing kisses on every inch before coming back to gently lick the tip. you grinned as he sucked in a breath, length twitching in your hands.

"so pretty baby, but you'd look prettier with your mouth full. what do we think?"

he looked back at hyuck, the older boy nodding quickly as he gently stroked his own cock.

you parted your lips, tongue cushioning the bottom of his length as he slowly slid into your mouth. you hollowed your cheeks pulling his length out of your mouth before taking him back him, building a slow rhythm.

jisung moaned above you, hands coming to collect your hair, moving it away from your face,

"so sweet angel, but hyuck likes it dirty, so we're gonna have to give him a show, hm?"

his words didn't even process in your head before he was roughly shoving you down his length, his tip hitting the back of your throat. you swallowed around him trying your best not to gag, making him groan loudly. he held your head steady as he began to fuck your face, the back of your throat starting to bruise from the force. you focused on breathing through your nose, ignoring the spit dripping from the corners of your mouth, tears staining your face.

"fuck, fuck you're so hot, jisung please let me get some of this, please."

you inhaled loudly as jisung released you from his length, a string of spit connecting you to his tip. the flow of oxygen was short lived as hyuck's cock prodded into your mouth, your mouth sore from the stretch. jisung guided you along hyuck's length, the sound of spit filling your living room.

hyuck pulled his shirt up, he was breathing heavy, sweat making his honey skin glow,

"fuck baby, so good, doing so good for- shit you asshole!"

jisung had pulled you off his length, chuckling lightly at hyuck's reaction. jisung positioned himself next to hyuck, his free hand coming down to hold both of their lengths together.

"come here baby, i know it's a lot but you can make it work right?"

you nodded, confidence temporary as you attempted to fit both of them in your mouth, it was an awkward smashing of tongue, teeth and tips being the only outcome. but it seemed to be enough for the boys as they both moaned loudly at the feeling.

hyuck turned his head to look at jisung, hand coming up to cup his face, pulling him in for a kiss. jisung didn't complain his tongue working agaisnt hyucks. you moaned at the sight, your hands wrapping around their lengths to jerk them off. all that was heard was spit sloshing and moans as the boys continues to kiss, your wrists starting to burn.

"oh my- i'm gonna cum. ji please tell me you're close, please."

jisung nodded into his neck as he nipped at hyuck's soft skin, light marks starting to bloom.

"just a little more baby, come on we're so close- oh my, yes, yes."

spurts of cum adorned for face and chest, loud groans leaving the mouths of the two boys standing in front of you. you licked at your lips the taste of jisung and hyuck mixing together on your tongue.

hyuck leaned down to rub his thumb against your cheek collecting some of the cum,

"dirty girl, look at what a mess you made."

he brought his thumb up to jisung's mouth, shooting him a quick wink. jisung's mouth twisted with disgust, turning his head away from hyuck.

"gross dude, we're not that close."

hyuck shrugged his shoulders popping his thumb into his own mouth before bending down to whisper in your ear,

"don't worry, we'll loosen him up after a couple rounds."

a couple what?

[hotshotsxyz]

this town is only gonna eat you

(buddie) (s8 spec) (1.1k) already wrote some buck-gets-hit-by-a-car spec, so how about some buck-gets-shot? kept thinking about "take eddie [to the laker's game] and die" and uh... here we are. cw: mass shooting/ gun violence (described vaguely), somewhat graphic description of a bullet wound, blood edit: now featuring a companion piece

Buck is smiling when it happens. Grinning at Eddie like he hung the fucking moon as he points out what must be the hundredth interesting play he’s seen on the court tonight. Buck’s smiling.

Eddie registers the screams before the gunfire. He smells the metallic scent of spent shell casings before he sees the shooter. He tackles Buck to the ground before he realizes he’s already hurt.

Buck was smiling, but now his face is inches from Eddie’s and his eyes are wide with pain and panic.

“Eds,” he says, and it’s barely above a whisper but it’s still too loud.

Eddie shakes his head, a tiny, sharp movement. Buck takes a shaky breath and presses his lips together. He understands. Eddie hates that he understands. Thank God he understands.

There’s something warm and wet slowly spreading between them, and it takes Eddie several wasted seconds to realize it’s blood. He’s almost completely certain it isn’t his, which—

God, that’s so much worse than if it was.

One of Eddie’s hands is still cradling Buck’s head, an instinctive act of protection before they hit the ground. With the other, Eddie slowly begins feeling his way around Buck’s abdomen. His fingers brush against torn fabric and he feels nauseous.

I’m sorry, he mouths before pressing down hard.

Buck gasps in pain. A muscle in his jaw ticks with the effort it must take him to keep from screaming.

“You’re doing so good,” Eddie breathes into Buck’s ear. “I’ve got you; I promise.”

The bullet caught him somewhere along the fifth intercostal space on the right side of his chest. Eddie doesn’t have a way to feel for an exit wound, not without letting up pressure on what he knows is there.

At best, the bullet glanced off a rib and tore through nothing but skin and muscle. At worst…

At worst, Buck is dying beneath him and there’s not a damn thing Eddie can do, not until the shooter is dead or gone. All Eddie can do is pray. Pray and hope like hell that God has forgiven him for his incomplete confession.

Another spray of gunfire echoes through the arena. It’s nearly impossible to identify where it’s coming from, but Eddie’s got a vague idea based on the direction people seem to be running in.

Buck takes a ragged, watery breath.

For the first time in his life, Eddie hopes he’s crying. He draws back, just far enough to look Buck in his eyes. His eyes, which are clouded over in pain but free from tears.

Fuck, fucking goddamn it.

Eddie presses his cheek against Buck’s.

“Slow, steady breaths, okay?” he whispers. “You have to breathe through it, even if it feels like you can’t.”

The tiniest whimper escapes Buck’s chest.

“You have to, Buck, I can’t—” Eddie squeezes his eyes shut and takes a shuddering breath. “I just need you to hold on,” he begs.

A single shot rings out, and nearby, something falls to the ground with a dull thump.

“Suspect is down!” someone shouts. “We’re clear for EMS.”

Eddie carefully extricates his hand from behind Buck’s head. “Hear that? We’re so close, Buck.” He brushes a thumb across his cheekbone, then sits up and raises his hand in the air. “Over here!” he shouts. “I’ve got a penetrating chest wound that needs to be on the first ambo out of here!”

Buck’s eyelashes flutter as he fights to stay conscious.

“Come on, eyes on me,” Eddie says.

With his free hand and his teeth, he tears a strip of fabric from his shirt to wad up and press into Buck’s wound.  The skin there is ragged and torn, almost certainly an exit wound. Eddie curses.

“I need EMS now!” Eddie roars, not tearing his eyes away from Buck for even a second.

“I’m coming to you!” someone calls back.

Buck’s eyes slip shut.

“No!” Eddie commands, rubbing his knuckles across Buck’s sternum. “You’re staying right here with me, you got it?”

Buck groans weakly. His eyes flick back open.

“That’s perfect, you’re perfect,” Eddie babbles. “Just keep—c’mon, Buck, just keep fighting. I need—you have to be okay.”

Buck’s lips part. “Hurt,” he breathes.

“I know,” Eddie says desperately, “I know it hurts, I’m sorry.”

A pained sound falls from Buck’s lips. He lifts one of his hands just high enough to ghost his fingers along the ruined hem of Eddie’s shirt.

Behind him, Eddie hears a gurney roll to a stop.

“Here!”

Eddie turns and find a young woman, no more than twenty years old, wearing a polo that declares her part of a private ambulance service. He doubts she’d weigh even a hundred pounds soaking wet.

“Alright,” he says, turning back to Buck. “I’m going to get you onto that gurney. Let me do all the work, okay?”

Buck’s eyes widen. He makes a strangled sound. “Hurt,” he coughs out again, fingers scrambling uselessly against the concrete floor of the arena.

“They’re gonna give you the good stuff at the hospital,” Eddie reassures. He lets go of Buck’s wound and pulls him into a seated position, then rolls him awkwardly onto his back. “I got you,” he says as he stands.

Eddie staggers beneath Buck’s weight but manages to get him down three rows worth of steps and onto the gurney without the young EMT’s help.

“We’re staged just outside the north entrance,” she says as she begins to push Buck toward a set of doors.

Eddie nods sharply. “He’s got a perforating chest wound, probable pulmonary laceration, and a history of pulmonary embolism. Allergic to naproxen,” he rattles off as he pushes the gurney alongside her.

“Um, okay, that’s—are you a doctor or something?” she asks.

“Firefighter,” Eddie corrects. “We both are.”

The closer they get to the exit, the harder Eddie has to work to keep pace with the EMT. He must be coming down hard as the adrenaline fades. A few spots cloud the corners of his visions. He blinks them away.

The doors to the outside fling open, revealing two paramedics from the 136.

“Diaz, is that you?” one of them asks.

The best Eddie can do is nod.

“Shit, and that’s—”

Eddie’s ears start to ring.

“Diaz, were you shot?”

No, he tries to say. One of the paramedics grabs him under the shoulders, and the other pushes his t-shirt up until—

Oh.

Huh.

He has been shot.

The paramedic in front of him is saying something, but Eddie can’t quite understand it. Over his shoulder, the EMT looks blurry and horrified.

The spots in his vision return with a vengeance, and in his last few moments of lucidity, it occurs to Eddie that the bullet in his abdomen is probably the same one that ripped through Buck’s chest.

Then, the world fades to black, and Eddie thinks nothing at all.  

[mikuluvu]

A/n: i dont think there's any new Mouthwash x reader fanfictions... Like every time i would visit the tag its just the same fic- so here!!! PLS FEED ME MORE MOUTHWASH FIC I CANT BREATHE PROPERLY WITHOUT IT.

A/n: So, what if fem!reader just hugs the crew behind 'em?

Warnings: nuh uh

Captain Curly

Captain Curly is in the cockspit, hunched over the controls, he doesn't know what to do. His jaw is tight, and the tension in his shoulders speaks volumes.

Quietly, you step closer and wrap your arms around him from behind.

He freezes, his entire body stiff as a board. “What... are you doing?” His tone is gruff, but there’s a hint of uncertainty beneath it.

“It looked like you needed this,” you reply softly, resting your cheek against his back.

He lets out a long sigh, the kind that carries weeks of stress. “You’re a strange one, you know that?” Despite his words, he doesn’t push you away. Instead, he allows himself to relax, just a little... Everything can wait.

For a moment, he says nothing, his gaze fixed on the console in front of him. The hum of the ship fills the silence, and you wonder if you’ve overstepped?

“You know, Captain…” you murmur, your cheek pressed lightly against his back. “You’re really doing a great job looking for the crew... but you barely take care of yourself.”

He exhales sharply, the sound caught somewhere between a sigh and a scoff. “I don’t have the luxury of thinking about myself,” he replies, his voice low and gruff. “Not when everyone is depending on me.”

Your arms tighten slightly around his waist, a small gesture of reassurance. “That’s exactly why you need to. If you fall apart, who’s going to keep things running? The crew needs you, Captain. But they need you healthy and strong.”

He goes quiet again, his head bowing forward. You can feel the tension in his body, the weight he’s been carrying for who knows how long. “Easier said than done,” he mutters finally.

“That’s why I’m here,” you say softly, your warmth against his back. “You don’t have to do it all alone, Curly. Let someone else carry the weight with you.”

For a moment, you think he might pull away, but instead, he relaxes ever so slightly in your hold. “You’re persistent,” he murmurs, his tone carrying a trace of something softer—gratitude, maybe.

“And you’re stubborn,” you tease gently, leaning your head against him. “So I guess we’re even.”

He huffs a quiet laugh, “Alright, fine. I’ll try to take better care of myself... for the crew.”

“And for you,” you add firmly.

He doesn’t respond immediately, but you feel his hand lightly brush yours where they rest around his waist. “Thanks,” he mutters, his voice softer now.

Jimmy

Jimmy is pacing in the cockpit, muttering to himself about the dwindling food supplies and how they’re going to ration out the next few days. He looks like he hasn’t slept in weeks.

You wait for him to pause before stepping up and slipping your arms around his waist.

“What the—!” He jumps, turning his head in surprise. When he realizes it’s you, his wide eyes soften into something resembling relief.

“You’re lucky I didn’t punch you,” he says with a breathless laugh, "Wow, punching a woman?" you snort, resting his hands over yours. He leans back into you, chuckling.

He chuckles, placing his hands lightly over yours. “Alright, you got me there.” He leans back slightly, letting himself relax in your hold.

(a/n: i did want to make him like... Mean, perv and all, but maybe you guys wouldnt like that- feel free to comment if you want a version of it)

Anya

Anya is standing infront of curly, checking up on him while humming under her breath. You come up behind her, gently draping your arms around her shoulders.

She tilts her head back, glancing at you with a curious smile. “Well, this is unexpected.”

When you don’t let go, she chuckles softly. “You’re braver than most. I don’t usually let people this close.” She leans into the hug slightly, her warmth and steady presence grounding you as much as you’re grounding her. She really likes it, it makes her shoulders relax... “Don’t let it go to your head, though.”

Swansea

Swansea is at the utility room, tools scattered everywhere as he mutters curses about faulty circuits. You approach silently and wrap your arms around his midsection.

“Bloody hell!” he yells, jerking up so fast he almost hits his head on a panel. He twists around, glaring at you. “What’s the big idea, sneakin’ up on me like that?”

When he sees your face, his irritation softens, though he tries to cover it up with a grumble. You and Swansea are like father daughter, he sighed “You scared me half to death, you know.”

You tighten the hug just slightly, and after a beat, he sighs in defeat. “Fine, fine. Just don’t make a habit of it, yeah?” But the faint smile tugging at his lips says otherwise.

"Sorry... Dad" you giggle, and he just get stunned... Out of all nickname you could pick for him... Dad? (He secretly likes it)

Daisuke

Daisuke is nervously sorting through tools in the corner, clearly trying to look busy. His hands tremble slightly, betraying his unease.

Without thinking, you walk up and hug him from behind.

He freezes entirely, his hands hovering mid-air. “Uh… wh-what are you doing?” His voice is high-pitched, flustered beyond belief.

“Giving you a hug,” you say simply.

His face turns red, and he stammers, “I—I mean, thanks, I guess? This is… new.” He doesn’t move, too overwhelmed to react, but he doesn’t pull away either.

"Am I making you uncomfrotable?" You asked, you were just about to let him go, "Huh- N-No! It's just... I didn't expect you to do this... Randomly.." he laughs nervously... "Just dont let go..."

A/n; Thx for reading! Reposting and liking is appreciated! Support me through my ko-fi

[hoshifighting]

ik u have lots of request but can i request grower!dino wherein reader teases him for having no bulge when they went to the pool and he had enough of the teasing so he drags reader to the restroom and rest is history

grower!dino

WARNINGS: semi-public sex, penetrative sex, rough sex, mentions of shower x grower, dirty talk.

you lean back against the pool chair, a smirk playing on your lips as u watch him emerge from the water. chan runs a hand through his wet hair, the sunlight catching on the droplets that cling to his skin. you bite your lip, but not for the usual reasons. “so, like… is that it?” you tease, eyes flicking down to the fabric of his swim trunks. they’re clinging to him, but not in the way you were expecting. nothing there, not even a hint of a bulge. your grin widens when he glares at you, dark eyes narrowing

he’s been taking it for hours now—your playful digs, the side comments, the whispers when no one else is around. but this time, the way his jaw clenches tells you something's different. “you think this is funny?” he mutters under his breath, barely loud enough for anyone but you to hear. the air shifts, his tone isn’t as casual as before.

“yeah, kinda,” you snicker, not knowing you’re walking into something dangerous. “i mean, what’s the point of those trunks if there’s nothing to show off?”

his hand grips your wrist before you can even react. it’s firm but not painful. at least, not yet. “get up,” he commands, voice low and almost a growl. you raise a brow but don’t resist, letting him pull you off the chair and toward the changing rooms.

“what, you gonna prove me wrong?” you laugh, half-joking. but the look he shoots you makes your stomach flip. that’s when you know you’ve pushed him too far. the door slams behind you, and you barely have time to catch your breath before you’re shoved against the cool tile wall, his body pressing into yours.

“you wanna see what the fuck i’ve got?” he hisses, breath hot against your ear, one hand already slipping beneath your waistband, yanking it down with no warning. his fingers curl around your throat, just enough pressure to make your heart race. “trust me, you’re gonna feel every inch.”

you swallow hard, lips parting, but nothing comes out. not a smart comment, not another tease. your mind goes blank as he pulls himself free, thick and heavy now, far from what you were teasing him about earlier, it grew almost like a monstrosity, the length good enough to make you doubt if its going to fit.

the sight alone has you clenching your thighs together, but he’s not letting that slide. “nah, keep ‘em open,” he grunts, forcing your legs apart with his knee. “you’re not getting out of this.”

and god, you don’t want to. his hand slips between your legs, fingers finding you already wet, and he smirks against your neck. “knew you were all talk. let’s see how much you can take before you start beggin’.”

you’re not prepared when he pushes in—rough, no warning, filling you in a way that leaves you breathless. your hands fly up, gripping at his shoulders, his neck, anything to keep yourself steady as he slams into you again and again, each thrust harder than the last. you bite down on your lip to stifle the moan rising in your throat, but he’s not having that either.

“don’t you fuckin’ hold back now,” chan grits, pulling your hair back enough to expose your throat, leaving your voice no choice but to slip out, louder this time. “you wanted this, right? all that teasing, just to get me like this?”

you try to form words, to say something smart, but the way he’s hitting that perfect spot, over and over, leaves you stuttering. “fuck… chan…”

“thought so,” he sneers, fingers digging into your hips as he picks up the pace, each thrust making your pussy drool around his cock. you’re a mess, barely able to think, let alone talk back now. the tiles are cool against your skin, but your body’s burning up, you feel light-headed by how fucking deep he is.

“still got somethin’ to say about my dick now?” he asks, voice dark with satisfaction, each word punctuated by another rough thrust. you shake your head, moaning his name again, feeling your body start to give in, trembling under his grip. he’s relentless, not letting up, chasing that last bit of control you’ve been clinging to.

“good,” he grunts, one hand snaking between your bodies, fingers finding your throbbing clit and rubbing in tight, fast circles. your breath hitches, back arching, and that’s all it takes for you to fall over the edge, his name spilling from your lips in a breathless moan. your legs tremble, barely holding you up, but he’s not done yet.

“fuck, you feel so good,” he groans, thrusting into you a few more times, his pace rough, almost punishing. it’s too much and yet somehow not enough. when he finally lets go, it’s with a sly, moan sound, his grip on your waist tightening as he spills into you, hips jerking with the force of it.

for a moment, all you can hear is the sound of your own ragged breathing, the world spinning slightly as you try to catch your breath. chan presses his forehead against your shoulder, both of you panting, bodies slick with sweat and chlorine.

“still wanna tease me about it?” hhe asks after a beat, voice low, but there’s a smirk in his tone now.

you laugh weakly, barely able to find your voice. “fuck no…”

[girlokwhatever]

can u do reader coming home drunk after a nightout and paige takes care of her?🥺 (smut or fluff is fine)

𝄞₊ ⊹˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ taking care of you,,

paige bueckers x fem!reader

paige is sitting in your shared apartment’s living room when she hears you fumbling with the keys outside. she immediately sets down her textbook, opening the door before you can even find the right key. she’s been expecting your arrival after you texted her a jumble of words, piecing together ‘home’ and ‘soon.’

you went out with a few of your friends from class to a local club, trying to unwind after a stressful few weeks. of course she wanted you to have fun but sometimes if other people were drinking, you tended to do the same. unfortunately for you, you were a lightweight.

“baby!” your eyes gleam at her, wide and glossy. you’re a bit of a bubbly drunk tonight, finding everything funny and somewhat joyful. you smiled at your girlfriend and jumped into her, craving her touch after being away for a few hours.

“hey ma, how was your night? had fun?” she catches you, holding the back of your thighs when you wrap your legs around her. your smile immediately turns to a dramatic frown, bottom lip pouted out. she has to resist the urge to kiss you, settling for the feeling of your body heat on hers.

“this guy was flirting with me paigey,”

“oh yeah?”

“yeah, told ‘em i have a pretty girlfriend already.”

now she’s smiling at you like a dope, pride swelling in her heart at your little story. you’re smiling with pride too, as if you just got told you did a good job. you’re paige’s favorite person in the world, no doubt. so hearing you brag about her is something that makes her feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

“how much did you drink?” she’s closing the door now, not missing the smell of alcohol when your soft breath hits her face. you shrug your shoulders because you genuinely have no clue. just from your answer, or lack of one, she knows it was a lot more than you can probably handle for one night.

you drop your legs from around your girlfriend and she lets you, letting go of the grip she has on your thighs. you wobble for a second while you adjust to standing on your own again. paige watches you carefully, slightly concerned at how out of it you seem. she finds herself getting a little angry at your friends for letting you drink so much, but she lets it go because she knows it was all in good fun.

“oh.. wow. that’s not-“ your hands are on your stomach and paige knows what’s about to happen. she’s ushering you to the bathroom, lifting the toilet lid, and pulling any loose hair out of your face. she lets you get it all out, patting your back and telling you it’s ok, the same way she always does. if you weren’t battered drunk it would probably make you blush.

“are you okay?”

you silently nod, already feeling a bit more sober. paige sends you a soft smile, kissing your forehead and pulling away again to turn on the shower. she grabs your pj’s from your room and when she comes back you’re half asleep against the wall.

“baby, gotta get you cleaned up okay?”

now you’re both in the shower together while paige lathers the shampoo and conditioner into your hair. you pleaded with her to get in with you, still not feeling the best. she said yes, tied her hair up in a bun, took off her clothes, and now she’s in here. with you.

she helps you rinse your hair out (she does it without any of your help) and just takes a moment to admire you. it seems you had the same idea though, staring up at paige with doe eyes. she notices you’re not exactly smiling, a light frown taking your features.

“what’s wrong?”

“miss you p,”

“i’m right here”

“yeah but.. you’re in minnesota.”

paige is genuinely shocked at your statement, laughing out loud and throwing her head back at what you said. she was in minnesota for a few days last month and you couldn’t free your schedule enough to go with her, which is what she thinks you’re referring to. of course in your drunk mind you think she’s making fun of you, which only makes you feel worse. you step out of the shower, the cold apartment air making your nipples peak and your body shiver.

paige follows in suit, having to hold her breathe at the sight of you. she jogs to your room, putting her own pajamas on and quickly returning to you.

“baby i’m sorry. don’t be upset please, i wasn’t laughing at you.”

you’re clothed too, standing in between paige and the bathroom counter as she rubs lotion on your back from underneath your shirt. her hands are large and warm, smoothing over your skin with a delicacy that you appreciate. you don’t exactly realize it all the time, but paige does a phenomenal job at taking care of you. especially on nights like this.

“yes you were.”

“ok… i was. but! but- it’s because i was just a little shocked, is all.”

you turn to face her, eyes scanning over her face until you determine how you feel. you try to remember what you even said, but nothing’s popping up so you decide to just forget it.

“feeling better?”

“for a kiss.” paige kisses you, gentle and soft. her hands situated on your hips pull you closer until you’re chest to chest. all of the sudden you’re pulling away with a frantic energy, like you just remembered something of the upmost importance.

“skincare!” you (in true clumsy fashion) try hopping up on the counter. once you fail a few times and then some, paige decides to just lift you herself. she digs through your drawer, not knowing where to start.

you don’t even seem to be in the same universe, eyes closed and legs swaying ever-so little. she decides to just pick a few things, mixing them all together in her hands before smoothing it over your face. it isn’t really her thing, you’re always the one doing it for her and yourself. once she’s satisfied, she taps your legs and kisses your nose. your eyes flutter, giving her a lazy smile.

“ready for bed?”

“mhm”

“brush your teeth first” you groan and she smiles as she walks away, pulling the covers back and throwing extra pillows to the floor. by the time she’s cut all the nights off in the apartment and returned, you’re rinsing your mouth out with water. she notices you’re ever more clumsy than usual, knocking over a few things on the counter and almost tripping over your own feet before she catches you.

“c’mere baby,” paige motions you closer, picking you up and carrying you to your shared bedroom. she lays on her back with you on top of her still, never letting go.

her face nuzzles into your damp, freshly washed hair. your face buries itself into her neck, the slow thump of her pulse helping ground you to reality. you couldn’t ever remember a time being this drunk, but to be fair you couldn’t remember much of anything right now. just that you love paige, and paige loves you.

“hey wait, take this advil and drink some water before you pass out please.” you whine, obviously too comfortable to lift your head.

“no. don’t wanna.”

“for a kiss?”

“…..fine.”

ㅤᵕ̈⋆｡°✩`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹✩°｡✮☾☼

just finished reading like 5 diff kate martin stories on wattpad guys

also this isn’t spell checked pls forgive me

[livwritessometimes]

Where's the Trophy? He Just Comes Running Over to Me (Part 2)

: Carlos Sainz, Oscar Piastri, Charles Leclerc

: Part 1

: Main Masterlist

: Author's Note - Here is the part 2. Let me know if you guys want me to do more fics like these. If you have any requests feel free to send em!!…Also lmk if you guys want to be added to the overall taglist

...

Carlos Sainz

What if I told you I'm back? The hospital was a drag

(Australian Grand Prix, 2024)

"What a performance!"

"What a comeback!"

"A Ferrari 1-2, headed by Carlos Sainz who wins the Australian Grand Prix!!!"

Y/n couldn't believe it. Standing next to Carlos' dad and cousin, she could feel the two pull her in for a hug. It was when she felt his dad wipe a tear from her eye that she realized she was crying. "I'm so proud of him," said Carlos Sainz Sr. 

She could see that very clearly. It was evident from the look on his face that he was proud of Carlos, and frankly, it was a relief to see that. The past few weeks have not been the best for all of them, especially Carlos, Y/n and his father. 

*past*

The day they got to know about his surgery, they all dropped everything they were doing to be there with Carlos as he got his appendix removed. 

The road to recovery had been tough. There were several speculations going on about Carlos not being signed again by Ferrari, so he did everything in his power to prove to everyone, especially the team, that he deserved the seat more than anyone. But as he got out of his surgery, the only thing he could think about was all the criticism he had received.

Y/n spent every second with him during his road to recovery. 

"You do know this isn't the end, right?" she had questioned Carlos the day before the Australian Grand Prix.

"Maybe, but it doesn't feel like that," Carlos said as he turned to face her on the couch.

"Need I remind you that you're the same Carlos Sainz who broke Max's streak last year after winning the Singapore Grand Prix," Y/n said with a proud smile. 

"And one of the 3 people who won a Grand Prix last year," she continued.

Carlos looked at her with a smile. "Yes," he said.

"Exactly, so why are you so worried about proving all the haters wrong? You have nothing to prove to anyone. So when you're out there in that car, the only thing you better be worrying about is not hurting yourself," Y/n said before she added, "because if you get hurt while driving, I swear to god the haters will be the least of your worries," she said as she slowly caressed his check.

"Yes, mi amor," Carlos said before kissing the palm of her hand that was caressing his cheek.

*present*

Standing with his family Y/n waited for Carlos to get out of his car. As soon as he got close to them, Y/n pulled Carlos in for a hug. "I'm so proud of you, Carlos; I can't describe just how proud of you I am," Y/n said, pulling him in closer.

"I can tell Mi querida, you're crushing me a little," Carlos said as he laughed, looking down at Y/n.

Wiping away the tears from her cheek, Carlos pulled her in for a kiss. "Don't you have a trophy to get?" Y/n questioned breaking the kiss.

"I do," Carlos replied before pulling her back in.

Standing on top of the podium, Carlos looked at his father and cousin, looking back at him with a proud look on their faces. He then looked at his girlfriend standing next to them, who was looking back at him as if he were the only person standing there, winking at her, Carlos stood straight for the national anthem. 

There was one thing clear now: no matter what happened, if he stayed in Ferrari or not, he would always have Y/n by his side, and that's what mattered at the end of the day for him.

...

Oscar Piastri

These blokes warm the benches We been on a winning streak

(Hungarian Grand Prix, 2024)

Oscar knows that he should be happy. He did it. He finally won his first ever Grand Prix. But he was feeling anything but happy.

The situation that led to this win made him feel uneasy. The messed-up strategy and the swap, all made Oscar feel like he didn't deserve to celebrate this win. To make things worse, none of his loved ones were there to witness this. His mom and sisters were back in Australia, Mark was travelling, and the person he wanted the most to be there, his girlfriend, was back home, probably watching the race in her 'I love Oscar' t-shirt that she got as a joke when he first signed for McLaren.

Driving to park at the spot for the Grand Prix winner, Oscar thought about what the news outlets have been saying about him. 'Oscar Piastri to Become the Next Face of F1' 'Future All-Time King of F1', Oscar let out a bitter laugh, remembering that. What is the point of getting better and better at every race if the first race you win, the one that you're going to remember forever, happens like how it did? 

Before he could even get out of his car, Oscar was congratulated by Lando. He could sense the tension between then. Oscar knows it's not their fault that there is this tension lingering between the two, but there was nothing that either of them could do about it. 

Smiling, he softly said, "Thanks, mate," before he got out of the car and towards the team. 

After being congratulated by the team, Oscar was making his way towards the cooldown room when he felt a tap on his shoulder. Turning around, he saw his girlfriend standing in front of him, and just as he had thought, in her 'I love Oscar' t-shirt. 

"What are you doing here?" Oscar said before he practically threw himself at her.

Laughing, Y/n hugged him back while replying, "I wanted to surprise you, but you surprised me instead," Y/n said as she pulled away.

"I can't believe you won!!!," Y/n said as she pulled him in for a kiss.

"Ya, neither can I," Oscar said.

"What's wrong? Why aren't you excited?" Y/n asked. She knew why he was like this. She knew very well what was going on inside Oscar's head.

"Nothing; it's just that this doesn't feel right," Oscar said. 

He continued, "Like winning your first Grand Prix is supposed to be a joyful occasion, but I can't help but feel like this win was given to me."

Y/n gently placed both her hands on Oscar's face, making him look at her, "Oscar Jack Piastri, don't tell me you're doubting your skills, definitely not after the way you raced today. You were absolutely amazing out there, and nothing can change that," she said.

"You deserve this win more than anything. I don't care what anyone says, but this trophy has your name written all over it. So you better go up there and celebrate like you believe in this win as much as I believe in it," Y/n said.

Oscar looked back at her, wondering what good he had done in his past life to have someone like Y/n in his life. 

"You hear me?" Y/n questioned, looking at him with so much determination that Oscar couldn't help but smile back at here after nodding his head.

"Yes, ma'am," he said.

"Good! Now quickly go; I have to facetime Nicole so she can see the celebration as well," Y/n said, giving Oscar a final kiss before making her way to get a better spot to see the entire celebration.

Covered in confetti and champaign, Oscar smiled as he saw Y/n and his mom on FaceTime, watching the entire celebration.

Oscar doesn't know if feeling like he didn't deserve this first win will be something he remembers 20 years down the line, but he sure knows that he will remember Y/n surprising him when he needed her the most.

...

Charles Leclerc

Where's the trophy? He just comes running over to me

(Monaco Grand Prix, 2024)

Charles finally did it. He broke the Monaco curse.

DNF in 2018

DNF in 2019

DNF in 2021

Strategy error in 2022

6th in 2023

Winning the Monaco Grand Prix almost felt impossible to Charles. Years of bad decisions had made him lose faith in himself.

Charles refused to believe in the Monaco curse. Because how can the place he loves the most, the place where he was born and raised, the place he was desperate to make proud, actually be against him winning?

He refused to believe in the Monaco curse. Because what if it is actually true? What if, no matter what he did, he could never win his home race? Charles refused to think about this, and this is what made him want this win even more desperately.

His entire family was there watching him, waiting to see him win. His brothers and their girlfriends were all at the edge of their seats as the last lap of the race began.

His girlfriend, however, remained seated. Y/n remained glued to the seat. She refused to move from her spot, fearing she might miss something if she moved even the slightest.

4 more corners to do. 3 more corners. 2 more corners. 1 more…

The entire area erupted into cheers. Lorenzo and Charlotte were hugging each other in disbelief of what they had just witnessed.

All the noises had faded for Y/n. All she could see was Charles; all she could think about was Charles. She could not express in words what she was feeling. Wiping away a tear that had rolled down her face, she was engulfed in a hug by Enzo and Charlotte.

Charles was not afraid to show his excitement as soon as he got out of the car. Screaming out of pure joy, he could not have felt more alive than he did right now.

Without removing his helmet or waiting for the photographers to capture him in the iconic number 1 position, Charles ran. It was as if his feet had a mind of their own.

Charles ran till he reached the area where his team was waiting for him. His eyes frantically searched the sea of red, trying to find the pair of eyes he desperately needed to see.

Suddenly his brother Arthur and a few of the team members parted to reveal a teary-eyed Y/n standing with the team.

Charles ran straight into her arms.

No words were exchanged for a few minutes. It was as if they did not need words to convey what they wanted to say.

Finally Y/n broke the silence, "You did it, Mon bébé."

"I did," Charles said, pulling back to look at her.

"You broke the Monaco Curse," Y/n said laughing, knowing that there was nothing anyone could say to Charles now.

"I did," Charles replied, still holding onto Y/n.

"Are you going to say anything besides 'I did' or is that all you know now?" Arthur chimed in after hearing his brother's exchange with his girlfriend.

Y/n laughed looking at Arthur before turning towards Charles, waiting for him to answer his brother's question.

"Marry me," Charles finally said.

Both Y/n and Arthur were shocked; none of them were expecting this. Arthur thought that his brother was going to follow the plan he, Enzo, and Charles had come up with for him to propose to Y/n. What he did not expect was for this brother to do it today.

Y/n, on the other hand, had not seen this coming. It was now her turn to remain silent for a few minutes. And these few minutes felt like hell for Charles.

"Yes," she finally said.

"What?" Charles asked.

"Yes! I said yes, I will marry you, Charlie," she said as she kissed Charles' helmet.

"SHE SAID YES," Arthur yelled to let everyone there know that his brother had not only won the Monaco Grand Prix but also got the girl of his dreams.

...

Tags: @wobblymug | @evasmlp

[bunny-jpeg]

hi love, may i have some sourdough bread and coffee with max (in a sort of twisted, claiming my rival as mine way). thank you so much and more power to your bakery 💚

bakery menu

feel free to submit your own order! i am happily working away at the bakery! clockin' in those hours!! this prompt made me shove all other projects to the side. you literally picked at two of my faves, haha. like YEAH!! so i hope you love this, this was a pleasure to write (now back to my other projects)!

sourdough bread ("i'm going to breed you.") + coffee (rivals au) served by max verstappen (formula one)!

cw: smut/pwp, rivals au, breeding kink, possessive behaviour, pregnancy, driver!reader, filth (!!!), smoking, baby trapping, missionary

you sighed and looked over your shoulder, the cigarette still between your fingers, "are you going to keep staring, verstappen or are you going to come over here?"

he uncrossed his arms and went over. he plucked the cigarette out from your fingers and took a drag, "girls like you shouldn't smoke. not very feminine."

you took the cigarette back and looked at him, "oh maxie, if you wanted a girly girl, you watched the ship sail years ago. i used to punch your bullies."

he sighed. you were right. childhood friends to rivals on the track with a dash of friends with benefits or whatever label of the month you chose to define your relationship.

max knew one thing. he wanted to mark you inside and out. he wanted to make sure that you were his. to call what he felt for you love was to call an inferno a spark. as he watched you smoke, he thought about putting his lips on your neck. he wanted to dig his blunt teeth into your throat and watch it bloom purple.

he also wanted to fuck you over the balcony, letting whoever down below know exactly where you belonged. under him. he hated you ferrari as much as he hated you in alpine only two years earlier. he always thought you belonged with red bull, not as a driver, but as a wag.

lately something else had been curling inside of him like a snake about to strike. the rattle of its tail warning his brain that this was what got him going. you. pregnant. with his kid.

end your name's legacy on the track and replace it with his. make sure that your name doesn't end up on the track for a good while, while verstappen survives, if not thrives for a long time to come. if you can't beat a rival on the track, get 'em pregnant!

you stamped out your cigarette of the cement ledge of the balcony before you dropped the butt to the ground. you looked at max, "you're staring at me like i'm a four course meal. can't find someone to get your dick went tonight?"

he had been lying for some time about getting sex elsewhere. it was impossible to sleep with other women when he was thinking about you. he even tried to find women that looked like you but it never cut it.

he snaked an arm around you middle and press his nose into your hairline, "it's been a while since we.. got together. don't you think?"

you looked at him and smiled a little, "are you asking me for sex, mister verstappen?" you chuckled, "i think that breaks several rules." you made a face.

he looked around briefly before he pulled you in for a firm kiss. when he pulled away and said, "if no one knows, is it really rule breaking?" he knew you could never say no to him, so after qualifier when he found a key card to your hotel room in his driver's room, he knew that had scored.

the sex between you two was passionate. it was never a dull moment. when he let himself into your hotel room like he owned the place, you were naked drying off after a shower.

"you dog." you said as you dropped the towel and headed towards the bedroom portion of the hotel room. max followed behind like a happy little mutt with his cock straining in his jeans.

he began to undress when you got up onto the bed. he watched you sitting at the edge while he took his belt off and jeans. you admired his toned figure. he wasn't ugly.

you had seen every phase of max, you two have known each other for far too long. that added to the rush of it all. it would make sense to anyone on the outside that you two would end up together and have like five kids. but instead the games you played were wicked.

once he was naked, he got on top of you. his impressively sized cock rubbed against your sweet pussy. he could feel the wetness against his achy tip.

"i'm going to breed you." he said softly, his blue eyes bore into yours as he made sure to tighten your legs around him.

you chuckled, "yeah right, verstappen. i think your swimmers died like a million years ago from all the racing." you held onto the pillow under your head. your legs wrapped around him tightly.

he laughed, "fine, fine. i'm joking. i think you're right." he was playing it off cool as if he didn't feel like he was going to jump out his bones at the prospect of getting you stuffed fat with his cum.

you laughed, "you and your dirty talk, verstappen. you always talk about wifing me up and me having your children. like i'm going to retire from racing." you tensed up for a moment when he eventually sank his cock into your soaked pussy.

he fit like a glove, that was how he knew. it was like he molded your pussy for him. no other man could have you and he was going to make sure of that. when he was done with you, you'd be at least five percent dutch.

that'll give you enough to give your hefty sons nice, strong names. legacy names for the track. he rutted against you, heavy, strong strokes. his cock nudged inside of you as he planted his hands on either side of you.

"you look good like this." he said as he pressed himself against you. your soft, pretty tits pressed against his chest as he moved against you.

you were only going to get more beautiful with time. the thought excited him. knowing that he had marked you in such an intimate way, a way that no other driver could. you were his, it was as simple as that!

the idea of you having another rival (or partner) made his skin crawl. he knew you better than you knew yourself. he could predict your movements easily both on and off the track. as he bullied his cock into your sweet pussy, he knew that he was the right fit for you.

he pressed his nose into your neck and continued to thrust into you. your pussy was soft and wet for him. a warmth went through his body as he rocked against you.

"i want to breed you. make you my wife. keep you home with our family. you don't need to be on the track anymore. you've scored more points than any other woman. so, it's time to settle down. we'd make some strong racers." he panted and felt the sweat down his back as he thrust into you.

you held the back of his head and whispered in his ear, "you're a funny guy, verstappen. if you get me pregnant, that kid is getting my last name. and they'll be racing under my country's flag."

he smirked to himself against your neck. you say that now, but a lot can change with time. he dug his fists into the covers and picked up the pace. he loved being so close to you.

your heart close to his. it was almost intimate if it wasn't for the hateful filth that was coming out of your mouths.

"i want you always. i want to ruin you for other men. and i'll make sure that you're not sleeping with other guys." he knew a sure fire way to prevent that, hard to fuck other men when you're full of his child.

"max. you're fucking insane." you panted as you looked at him once more. he knew that you were feeling the height of pleasure, and that honestly made him harder.

that he made you this way.

"i'm fuckin' close."

"good, good. my good wife." he purred, which only made you more turned on. god, what a possessive little freak with the breeding kink!

you clutched onto him tightly and almost bit down on his neck as you came. it washed over you and you tensed up for a moment before you relaxed. then you continued to cling onto him like a lifeline.

he liked the feeling of that and soothed you with gentle words and kissed as he felt close to his own climax.

"max... c'mon. fuck." you moaned as you dug your pretty nails into his back.

he soon after cursed loudly as he slammed his cock into you, making sure you took every last inch. he wanted to make sure that he finished far enough into you that his cum didn't have anywhere else to go but into your womb.

that was his objective. he kissed you once more as he gave a few more thrusts. you moaned into the kiss and laid there under him, breathless.

he slowed down his thrusts to catch his breath. you were still clutching the covers under you. you looked amazing under him, he was right. it was where you belonged.

he placed both hands on your stomach and started to thrust once again. one orgasm wasn't going to cut it for him. if he was going to make you a verstappen, it meant making sure his dna stuck to your sweet pussy.

you'd eventually race on sunday with cum still staining your panties and a pray that no one would notice.

-

it was july now and the heat was getting unbearable. it didn't help that sitting on your hips was a six month pregnant belly. you had spent since may in the nice little sundresses that max had picked out for you.

he was painfully doting, making sure the mother of his child had anything she needed. after all, you retirement was sudden and early. such a strong driving career cut short.

"you look so good." he'd often say and his large hands spanned your swollen middle in the hopes to feel his son shifting around. you knew the asshole got off to this.

you were trying to teach your unborn child as much of your mother tongue as possible, while he'd curl up with our middle at night and speak dutch. when you tried to stop him, he simply pressed into you further.

even parenthood felt like a small rivalry.

max believed that he won the rivalry, he was about to championship that year after blood tests came back that you were pregnant. you could've killed him when you stomped out of the doctor's office and almost strangled him.

you'd hate to admit it, but there was a domesticity that you sort of liked. while you were still trying to find things to do post-driving, it was nice to be in one place at one time. what had felt like your entire life had been on planes going between tracks. the press didn't bother you as much once the news cycle of your pregnancy died down and you could just be you.

while you wanted to kill max still, even as he was snuggled up beside you on the couch, his arm draped over your bump, you honestly couldn't ask for a better baby daddy. you wouldn't let max have his victory in your little rivalry, even as the gold ring you wore gleamed in the afternoon light, you'd never admit to your husband that he had bested you. because the way you looked at it, since you shared the same last name, it was your trophy too. <3

[brain-deadx0]

(Got a brain worm that I had to write. No plans to continue so feel free to take for yourself)

Batman was responding to reports of Harley Quinn running around Gotham. Joker had been put back in Arkham several months ago so there was a chance she was making a move to set him free again.

But apparently Harley was expecting him.

"Well finally! You sure know how to keep a gal waiting Batsy. Ive been running around all night waitin for ya."

When Harley turned to face him his eyes were immediately drawn to her stomach.

"You're pregnant..."

"Yeesh your manners are bad ya cant just say that!" Harley rolled her eyes before pausing with a sigh and a serious look that almost seemed out of place on her, "But yeah... I am."

"Joker?" Batman asked softly.

Harley nodded, "Thats why I was runnin around tonight. Wanted to get your attention." She looked down before continuing, "I was in denial about it at first. I was always careful with that birth control stuff ya know? And I didn't want it to be real. Before I knew it it was too late to... you know... but. But I dont think I coulda anyway. I know its selfish but I love em too much already. Thats why I need your help."

"I'll help in anyway I can." Batman told her, "I can set up a place for the two of you where Joker won't find you."

Harley shook her head, "No can do Batsy. Mista J wouldn't let me go that easy. Specially if he knows about my little puddin. And if I'm honest I love him too much to leave too.

"I need someplace to have 'im that won't tell. And... I want you to look out for him. Not like, take 'im in or nothing. If I see my baby runnin around as one of your birds in ten years I'll let you have it-" She sighed, "But find someplace away from Gotham and all this. I don't want this for my little puddin. I don't want him to turn out like me or Joker and his best chance is someplace else.

"Please Batman."

-

Bruce kept his promise to Harley. She gave birth in secret and Daniel was taken to the other side of the country to be left at a firestation with nothing but his name and a note from Harley saying she loved him.

When Daniel was adopted Bruce ran a background check on his new parents. Inventors who seemed to be researching some sort of renewable energy and already had a child. Seemed safe enough.

He checked the area when they moved to a small town in Illinois and it seemed safe enough even with the likely tourist trap of "most haunted town in America"

Daniel, or Danny as he seemed to prefer, got decent grades and had a few close friends. His grades dropped suddenly for a time but eventually they returned to their previous state so he didn't worry too much.

But when the boy applied to and was accepted into Gotham U, Bruce started to worry.

They had left Danny as far away from Gotham as possible. So what were the chances he should return?