#it does still work just I don’t see him in photos the way I used to

[fastandcarlos]

Children Once Again : ̗̀➛ Lando Norris

summary: when you’re invited to the f1 as an ambassador the last face you expect to see is that of your childhood best friend

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liked by mclaren, landonorris and 792,057 others

ynusername: such an honour to be in monza to watch the grand prix, thank you so much to mclaren for the awesome hospitality 🧡

68,472 comments

username1: no way you finally for to go to a race!

mclaren: it was an honour to welcome you and host you at your very first f1 race 🧡

username2: hope you had the best time ever yn ❤️

kendalljenner: told you that you’d absolutely love it 😂

ynusername: @/kendalljenner I should’ve listened to you!

username3: ngl she seemed to be really close with lando when they were around the paddock together!

oscarpiastri: thank you for being such an awesome guest to have with us this weekend!

username4: papaya really suits you btw yn 😉

username5: and you got to go to monza too, that’s one of the best races on the circuit!!!

landonorris: can’t believe we finally got to see each other again, let’s not leave it so long next time 😂

ynusername: @/landonorris you’re still just as annoying as ever 😂

username6: wait wtf is going on here…did they already know each other??

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liked by oscarpiastri, kendalljenner and 837,018 others

ynusername: never in a million years did I think I’d get reunited with this guy, nearly 14 years later and we’re back together again 🥹

71,950 comments

username7: wait so they were friends at school and reconnected? omg that’s adorable

username8: see the f1 really does change lives 😂

georgerussell63: how you managed to put up with him growing up is crazy to me!

ynusername: @/georgerussell63 it was hard work at times 😂

username9: I can just imagine them causing so much trouble when they were younger!!

landonorris: 14 years to make up for but the rest of our lives to be back together causing mischief again!!

username10: look at how happy lando looks to be back with her again

mclaren: we’re so pleased we could unknowingly bring the two of you back together again 🧡

ynusername: @/mclaren I owe you guys so much for inviting me in the first place

username11: this is just the sweetest story ever 😭

oscarpiastri: at least I don’t have to listen to you guys reminiscing anymore 🙄

username12: so happy they got to reunite together 🥺

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liked by danielricciardo, ynusername and 2,038,173 others

landonorris: a dream weekend with my childhood best friend, still feeling just like big kids and like we’ve never not been each other’s lives 🥹

73,067 comments

username13: and you’re sure she’s just a friend are you???

alex_albon: these photos suggest you’ve had more than just a dream weekend to me

username14: you can just tell how fond of her lando still is 😭

danielricciardo: yeah, sure “just” friends 😉

username15: who is buying a friend flowers that are that nice!?

ynusername: you’re not gonna be able to get rid of me so easily this time around!

landonorris: @/ynusername good because I don’t want you to go anywhere anyway 🥺

username16: I don’t want these two to go their separate ways again 💔

maxverstappen1: you’ve known me since we were kids and yet you don’t hug me like that 🤨

landonorris: @/maxverstappen1 stop reading so much into things 🙄

username17: you’re not kidding anyone norris 😂

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liked by oscarpiastri, georgerussell63 and 782,607 others

ynusername: the first photo was lando when I surprised him at the race, now compare that to the last one after spending four hours with me 😂🧡

73,058 comments

username18: they couldn’t even stay away from each other for more than a week!!

maxverstappen1: I can so see why you two were the best of friends after meeting you 😂

username19: just look at how excited he is to see her 🥺

danielricciardo: it was a joy to meet you here and hear so many childhood stories of lando’s!!

username20: ofc cause only a friend would do something like this right??

landonorris: stop lying to people, I really was happy to have you here for the whole time 😂

ynusername: @/landonorris that’s why you banished me to the paddock for most of the afternoon 👀

username21: it breaks my heart knowing they spent so long apart when they seem to get on so well…

carlossainz55: it was fun embarrassing lando with you for the whole weekend!!!!

ynusername: @/carlossainz55 I had no idea he was still as stupid as he was back in school 🤦🏻‍♀️

username22: he loves spending time with you really yn 😂

oscarpiastri: I’m sure I saw him shed a tear when you told him you had to go

landonorris: @/oscarpiastri definitely tears of joy!!

username23: we really missed out on this friendship for so many years!

alex_albon: still sticking with the friendship storyline I see…

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ynusername just posted two stories

replies

alex_albon: if you went out with one you’d be a true passenger princess!

ynusername: when do you plan on letting this go??

username24: can you two just hurry up and date already?

georgerussell63: look at how handsome he is yn, you can’t deny it 😂

username25: put us out of our misery please and just announce it!

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danielricciardo: why are you two kids holding hands!?

username26: I still refuse to accept that you two are just friends!

username27: are you playing us all by pretending to just be friends?

charles_leclerc: when will you two just wake up and see it??

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liked by carlossainz55, oscarpiastri and 2,492,613 others

landonorris: don’t tell her but I secretly loved her back in school all those years ago, and I guess it’s fair to say I still love her just as much now ❤️

203,362 comments

username28: finally they’ve given us what we wanted for so long 👏🏻

alex_albon: can’t believe you tried to convince me that you two weren’t dating 🙄

oscarpiastri: couldn’t be happier for the two of you 🥰

username29: these two are the perfect reason as to why you should believe in destiny 😭

danielricciardo: this might just be the worst kept secret in the world!!

carlossainz55: i feel like I’ve watched a movie watching your romance unfold 🥺

username30: the fact he’s always been in love with her melts me 🫠

charles_leclerc: well aren’t you guys just the cutest 😭

username31: please don’t ever lose contact with each other again!

georgerussell63: you guys are perfect for each other, so pleased you managed to find one another again

username32: all these years and yet none of us knew that he actually only ever had eyes for her…

mclaren: congratulations to you both, secretly we’re taking all the credit for this 🧡

landonorris: @/mclaren you guys can absolutely take credit, thank you for inviting yn all those weeks ago!

username33: this is the kinda romance that everyone dreams of, only this time it actually came true 🧡

ynusername: it was only ever you 💞

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[foxmulderautism]

not really sure actually if andrew ridgeley worlds most famous the other guy works as well as he used to as a bobby “faceclaim” (always been more of a resemblance but the closest to a faceclaim ive ever had) but i kind of have to keep going with it because hating the music of a band where one of the guys looks like you is the funniest character detail ever

[feyburner]

I ??? woke up at 3am with this scene fully written in my mind palace and quickly jotted it down in the Notes app

*

Clark’s shaking his head before he realizes he’s doing it, and feels a twinge of embarrassment at his own bad manners when Bruce stops mid-word to look at him, brows raised.

“No?” he says.

“No,” Clark says, again without thinking, and again with the reflexive urge to apologize. Somewhere his mother is tutting without knowing why. But he doesn’t apologize, because he’s already saying, “No, it can’t—it can’t be that.”

“Okay,” Bruce says slowly. “Can you elaborate?”

He is, honestly, having trouble taking his eyes off the screen. The mockup design of his new suit is there, dark and sleek, ridged like tactical gear. The blue is like the last shade of evening before you can’t call it evening anymore, the color of nine PM in Kansas in July, so exact there’s a strong chance Bruce color-picked it from a photo. The yellow accents are the cool fluorescent yellow-green of lightning bugs. The red is dark as arterial blood. Every aspect of the suit has been updated—the colors deeper, the angles sharper, the S extending to the corners of its frame—but Bruce has done it without changing the fundamentals. It’s immediately recognizable as the Superman suit, just… well, a little cooler, maybe. A little more of the times. Even the tailoring is modernized. The neckline. The shape of the boots. Where the belt hits at the waist. Clark can tell just by looking that Bruce has not only spent a lot of time on this in general, he’s spent a lot of time designing it specifically with Clark in mind, Clark’s needs and preferences and the small discomforts of his current suit, things he might have mentioned offhand after a mission but never with the assumption that Bruce was listening or filing it away. No doubt the next slides of this presentation will detail all the hidden features of the new suit, and they’ll all be incredibly thoughtful if not slightly overkill, and Bruce will pretend his sole motive here was practicality and risk reduction and respond to any thanks with a curt nod.

And Clark wants to thank him. He will. It’s just.

“It can’t be… cool,” he says, inane. Bruce is watching him with that steady look that used to feel clinical, piercing, and now mostly reads as attentive. “It can’t be—like yours. Tactical, military-grade.”

“Lightyears beyond, actually.”

“It has to—Ma said once, a kid should be able to draw it with crayons. You know? I can’t look like a weapon. I have to—I want to look like a friend.”

He can feel himself flushing. It’s rare that he speaks like this, and rarer still that he does so while being stared at intently. Bruce may think of himself as the darkness, but his gaze is a spotlight: unwavering and revealing and more a little sweat-inducing, for one reason or another.

“Sometimes, when I show up, people laugh,” Clark says. “If it’s somewhere out of the way, where they haven’t seen me before. I show up and I look like a festival performer. It’ll be the worst day of their lives, and they’ve got no reason to trust my face, but when they see what I’m wearing—it goes from ‘Who are you?’ to ‘Who is this guy?’ And that’s a good thing.”

“Hard to be afraid of a man dressed in primary colors,” Bruce says, almost to himself.

“Exactly.”

“I see. Thank you,” he says, “for explaining.”

Clark tries not to show how surprised he is to hear that. Judging by the crook of Bruce’s mouth, his success is negligible. “Of course. Sorry I didn’t—I mean, thank you, obviously, for going to such trouble. I didn’t mean to come in here and—I really do appreciate it, I can tell you put a lot of work in—”

Bruce’s eyes cut away. “No. No need. I didn’t ask, before I…. It was only a first draft. If you’re amenable, I’ll incorporate your feedback into the second one.”

“Oh! Yeah. Yes, of course, but you really don’t have to—”

“If you have any further notes, I would like to hear them.”

There’s something determined in the lines of his face. Clark has the sense that this moment is important, that it’s a turning point, even if he’s not sure why. It feels like striking out into a sea of ice, a blank white expanse under which something precious and vital is hidden, has been hidden all along, just waiting for him to find it. To want to.

“Sure,” he says. He looks back at the suit and swallows, and knows Bruce will see the flicker of his throat and take some meaning from it, and wishes he knew what the meaning was. Or maybe Bruce won’t notice or read into it at all. Maybe Clark needs to calm down, in fact. “Um. I don’t want to assume, but does it… do things?”

“It does things,” Bruce confirms, after the barest pause. “Let me show you the next slide.”

[luvsupa]

“YOU’RE A STAR!”

tags: musician!choso x manager fem!reader, reader has a secret fan account, both are in 20, choso has lots of tattoos and is an r&b singer, he has piercings, smut (p in v), ōral sex (f!recieving), sub!choso (ish), voyeurism, etc. mdni.

w.c: 3,2k

a/n: YALL I’m almost at 2k LIKE THATS INSANEEEE!! TY GUYS SOSOS MUCHHH AHHH

+ erm if there’s errors lmkk

you sit in choso’s expansive dressing room, surrounded by his makeup and fashion assistants, eyes glued to the big screen as he finishes his final song of the concrrt. the sound of thousands of screaming fans fills the air, their voices blending with his deep, angelic one. even from back here, you can hear the unmistakable roar of the crowd, hanging onto every note he sings. the way he commands the stage, the way he moves—everything about him makes your chest tighten.

he looks unreal tonight, his stylist outdid themselves. the subversive, edgy look suits him perfectly, especially the ripped wife-beater that showcases his inked arms, gleaming under the stage lights. the body glitter you suggested—yeah, that was definitely a good call- catches the light in all the right ways, making him look out of this world.

you’re supposed to be his manager, maintaining some form of professionalism, but damn, it’s impossible when he looks this good. especially when he runs his hand through those messy brown locks , letting a few strands fall over his face. you bite your lip, trying to focus on anything but the way your heart races when he’s on stage.

the thought of professionalism slips even further when you pull out your phone, dimming the brightness low. not for work—no, not tonight. instead, you open the app you use to connect with his fanbase under your secret username.

chogetsmewetter

it still makes you smirk every time you see it. his fans had been relentless, trying to bribe you for the username. but it’s yours, and you're not giving it up for anyone.

chogetsmewetter: are u guys seeing how good he looks… need him immediately

responses flood in almost instantly.

chososwhore: baby, nobody wants him more than i do…

choochoo: y’all send videos of the concert plzzz :(

kamosbaby: my baby daddy lookin good on stage.

you’re too caught up in scrolling through the candid photos and fan reactions, smiling like an idiot, when the makeup assistant catches you off guard.

“what’s got you smiling like that?” she teases, arms crossed and eyebrow raised.

you quickly shove your phone into your pocket, plastering on your best fake smile. “just checking cho’s schedule for next week. his brothers want to surprise him at the last show.”

it’s a lie, of course, but you’re used to spinning quick stories, and she just shrugs, moving on. but not without another jab. “girl, you love calling him cho, don’t you? does he let you call him that in bed too?”

your eyes widen as choso’s fashion designer giggles along with her. “guys, nothing’s going on. we’re strictly business—i manage his schedule, and that’s it.” but the words taste bitter, even as you force them out. nothing more. yeah, right.

the deafening cheers from the TV rescue you from any more teasing. all eyes turn to the screen as choso wraps up, thanking the crowd with that deep, velvet voice of his. the camera zooms in on his face, his lips curling into a soft smile as he waves and blows kisses to the adoring fans. gosh, he’s perfect.

a few moments later, the dressing room doors swing open, and there he is. choso, in the flesh, followed by his bodyguards. his team erupts in cheers, swarming him with praise, but you move to the back in the corner, blending into the background. moments like this are too chaotic for you, but you know you’ll have your moment later, probably on the tour bus.

amidst the chaos, his eyes find you, and he frowns a little when he sees you typing away on your phone, oblivious to the world. he doesn't know, of course, that you're replying to posts about him.

before you can finish your latest message, you feel him standing right in front of you, towering over you. the air feels thick between you two, and you curse internally as you slip your phone into your pocket once again, heart racing.

“you forgetting something?” his voice is low, teasing, as he glances down at your hands.

you quickly shake your head, trying to play it cool. “c’mon, cho, you know i’d never survive in that crowd,” you say, nodding toward the gaggle of team still dying for his attention.

his hands, cold from the stage, slide into yours, pulling you just a little closer. you swallow hard. “i knowww, but your support matters the most outta all of ‘em,” he says, rocking slightly, his lips curling into that perfect half-smile. the one that makes your stomach flip.

he smells incredible, the scent of his unreleased cologne wrapping around you, making your head spin. you smile, turning away, but he moves with you, trying to catch a glimpse of that smile.

“c’mon, let’s grab dinner. my director’s waiting,” he says, releasing your hands, and you instantly frown, missing his touch.

you follow him and his bodyguards out, offering a quick farewell to the makeup and fashion team. they don’t miss the chance to wink at you, clearly still enjoying the teasing.

as you near the exit, the noise outside grows louder—fans desperate to catch one last glimpse of choso. this is the part of the night you dread, knowing how insane the crowd can get. but when he looks over his shoulder and gives you that grin, the chaos doesn’t seem so bad.

two guards swing open the doors, harsh light flooding in as flashes from cameras blind you instantly. the screams grow deafening, and you brace yourself. this is always the worst part—being unable to see, disoriented, as the paparazzi go wild trying to capture every inch of choso’s presence.

but choso? he thrives in this. he’s in his element, beaming as he dives straight into the crowd. signing albums, posing for photos, accepting gifts—he eats it all up. you trail behind one of his bodyguards, eyes flickering to where he’s standing. your heart clenches as you catch sight of him—his lips locked with a fan.

you swallow hard. it’s not the first time. he always does this with her—his so-called “number one fan.” he remembers her face, her name, every single time. each time he kisses her in front of his adoring crowd, it feels like a punch to the gut. the fans love it. the media laps it up, turning her into a minor celebrity among his fandom.

how do you know? through your secret fan account.

you scoff quietly to yourself as you slip past the crowf, making it safely onto the tour bus. heading straight for the private area at the back, you drop your bag onto one of the leather couches, sinking into the seat by the window. from here, you can still see him outside, giving the fans hugs, taking endless photos. you watch in silence, jealousy simmering just beneath the surface.

finally, after what feels like forever, choso steps onto the bus, breathless and flushed. he walks down the aisle toward you, eyes gleaming with excitement.

“fuckkk, they’re amazing,” he groans, collapsing onto the couch beside you, still riding the high from the crowd.

they’re amazing? or she’s amazing…

you force a smile, eyes glued to your phone. “you looked like you were having fun, choso,” you mutter, distracted by your personal texts. his head drops back with a groan. one thing he can’t stand is when you don’t give him your full attention.

before he can start whining, one of the fashion designers calls your name from the front of the bus. you sigh, getting up quickly to see what the issue is. in your rush, you leave your phone behind on the couch.

choso watches as you walk away, eyes narrowing when he sees your phone lying there. you never leave it behind, always keeping it close, and curiosity gnaws at him. his leg bounces as he contemplates it. fuck it.

he snatches your phone up, eyes widening as the first thing he sees on your notification center is all he need to see.

[chogetsmewetter] new like from choochoo and 100+ others:

I need to fuck choso nowww, he’s so fuckin hot it’s not fairrr.

damn.

a slow, wicked grin spreads across his face. so that’s why you’ve been acting weird. he sets your phone back down just as he hears your footsteps returning.

you return, completely unaware of what just happened. “choso, they said we can’t leave until another hour—” you start to explain, but he’s not listening. his thoughts are elsewhere, his leg bouncing slightly as he bites the inside of his cheek.

“how do you want me to fuck you?” he suddenly blurts out, his voice low and dark.

your eyes widen, body stiffening as his bold words hit you like a train. you fumble for the curtain, pulling it shut so the driver can’t hear.

“w-what the fuck are you talking about?” you stammer, your breath catching in your throat. his dark brown eyes lock onto yours, unwavering. he doesn’t need to say it—his gaze tells you everything.

he knows.

panic rises inside you as you glance toward your phone and then back to him. he nods slowly, confirming your worst fear. he found out.

“so… are you those shy freaks…” he asks casually, standing up from the couch. his towering frame looms over you, and your world feels like it’s shrinking as he removes his leather jacket, revealing his tattooed, muscular arms.

“y-you wanna do this here? in front of the fans?” you whisper loudly, eyes darting toward the windows that are now covered by the blinds.

he chuckles, low and wicked. “you didn’t seem to care posting your dirty thoughts in front of me.”

and he ate with that one.

just like how he’s now devouring you in the back of the tour bus. you’re nestled on the couch, right in front of the curtains that separate the chaos outside from your little world. choso is on his knees, going at you like a possessed man. your legs are pushed tight against your chest as he laps up your juices, sucking and swallowing your sweet fluids. his cold nose piercing nudges your clit as his tongue thrusts deep inside you at an inhumane speed. any trace of shame has long evaporated, replaced by his loud moans vibrating against your cunt, making your eyes cross slightly.

your hands tangle in his silky brown locks, tugging gently, which earns you a whimper as he pulls back, your essence and saliva coating his chin and glossy lips. “mmm, p-pull on it more, pretty,” he urges, gazing up at you with doe eyes, brows furrowed in concentration as he loses himself in you once again.

obeying him, you tug harder on his hair, bucking your hips against his face while his hands grip the back of your thighs, pushing you deeper into your chest. he’s growling now, lost in the pleasure he’s giving you.

“yesss, f-fuck, you’re so goooddd,” you praise, head thrown back as he slurps at your juices like a starving man. he pulls away to admire your twitching hole, his fingers parting your folds wider. he spits a wad of saliva directly into your gaping pussy, making you clench instinctively as he slides in two thick digits, effortlessly gliding through your sloppy walls. his thrusts are calculated as he studies your features, which are now squeezed shut in bliss.

“hmm, she’s fuckin’ wettt,” he comments, your pussy responding with loud, squelching sounds that fill the back of the bus, echoing your mess. “hahh, you put that username to use,” he taunts, your body burning with embarrassment. his thick fingers pick up speed, massaging that sweet spot, and your back arches off the couch, your lower tummy tingling as your breath quickens.

choso can sense you’re close, the way you tighten around him. suddenly, he sucks hard on your clit, swirling his tongue around your poor nub. you cover your mouth with your hands, muffling the moans that threaten to escape .

just before you can cry out his name, he pulls his fingers out, leaving you undone. he retreats from your soaked clit, watching your translucent essence dribble down your convulsing hole, spilling onto the couch. your breath hitches as he delivers a sharp slap to your pussy, jolting electricity through your body, and the sticky remnants of your orgasm cling to his palm, igniting an insatiable addiction to your sensitivity.

“nahhh, is this the wettest you can get?” he says, rising from his knees and unzipping his jeans, pulling his throbbing cock free from its confines. your mind goes blank at the sight. fuck, he definitely never lied about his size, especially in his songs. choso sits beside you, manhandling you onto his lap, your pussy pressing against his hard cock as you whimper,

this is really happening.

“ride me, darling—use me all you want.” he states, and it feels like you’re living out your dirtiest dream, because yu are. he leaves trails of kisses along the side of your neck, his glossy lips—coated in your cum—smudging against your skin. you stare down at his shaft, his leaky tip begging to be touched. raising your hips, you grab the base of his cock, making him wince as you align his rosy tip with your drooling entrance. his crownhead stretches you open, and you whimper at how big he is with each inch you take. your velvety walls accommodate his size, practically expanding as he settles into your pussy.

without warning, choso grips your hips, slamming you down against him. you wail as every inch of his cock plunges deep inside your walls, and he moans at how tight you are around him. “f-fuck, baby, takin’ so fuckin’ l-long,” he says impatiently, thrusting up into you as each movement leaves you more dazed and breathless.

with newfound courage, your hips immediately fuck back into his, faster than his sloppy thrusts, making his eyes roll back in pleasure. your grinding drives him wild, your pussy gripping him like it’s life or death. choso’s head falls back, broken moans slipping past his lips, his adam’s apple bobbing as he struggles to hold back even more sounds of ecstasy.

you can feel the heat building between you, his cock stretching you further with each thrust. you grind down harder, relishing the way his body responds, each movement causing him to whimper and squirm beneath you. his hands grip your waist, guiding you, but you can tell he’s losing himself in the sensation, growing more ditzy with every upward thrust.

“c’mon, baby, ride me h-harder,” he begs, voice thick with desperation. his eyes fluttering as he’s moaning loudly. it’s intoxicating, watching him come undone because of you. you match your pace to the rhythm of his moans, your slickness coating him more with each thrust. the sound of your bodies slapping together drowns out the cheers of the fans outside, your pussy so noisy it’s almost too loud for your own liking.

“mmm, keep your eyes on me, pretty boy,” you purr, brushing your fingertips through his hair, tugging a big- earning a whimper at the pet name. you can see the way he bites his lip, trying to hold back more moans, but you know he won’t last long.

“hgn, you think jus’ cause you’re on top ‘m your bitch?” he groans, the tension between you two thcick. his gaze is wild, pupils dilated, and it only drives you further as you increase your pace, your hips slamming hard against his thighs, coating his throbbing base with your slickness. you giggle as he pathetically moans out, hands gripping your flesh tighter as you grind harder. his chubby tip sloppily kisses your cervix, sending shockwaves through your body as it begins to shake.

the way he reacts to every thrust, every grinding motion sends a thrill down your spine. he’s completely lost in you, his breathing ragged and unsteady. “y-you feel so good,” he stammers, voice breaking as he struggles to keep his focus, each word laced with pleasure. you smirk, feeling powerful, proud at the control you have over him.

“mhmm, ‘m starting to think y’er all talk, cho. you’re not showing me how you’d fuck me,” you taunt, leaning in his ear and tugging on his ear piercings, making him shudder at your seductive voice.

your words truly did something to him, awakening something much darker within. without hesitation, he carelessly picks you up, sliding his cock out of your hole as he slams you against the table adjacent to the couch. bending you over, he realigns himself with your hypnotizing cunt, the air thick with the heat of your lust. choso slams his entire length into your pussy, the sound of slickness echoing in the cramped space as your body squelches loudly, both of you moaning in unison. he grips your hips tightly, pounding mercilessly into you, each thrust sending shockwaves through your body as you cry out, not caring if the bus driver or any staff hears your cries of pleasure.

“cunt so good,” he growls, feeling you clamp down hard on his girthy length. his moan resonates deep within your core as he swats your ass, the sound of skin meeting skin sending electric jolts through you. he feels like he’s deep in your guts, rearranging everything inside you, each thrust making your pussy squelch obscenely. it’s so loud that it drowns out any sounds from outside, the wet slaps of your bodies merging into a symphony of lust. you’re practically squeaking like a damn mouse with every thrust, your body unable to contain the pleasure coursing through you.

without warning, he grips your hair and pulls you up against him, his mouth brushing against your ear as he whispers, “take it all, mama. you can take it.” his words send a shiver down your spine, the duality of his sweet yet dominating tone intensifying your arousal. you nod, feeling yourself surrender completely to him, wanting nothing more than to be his.

“m-more cho’ ,” you whine, and he responds with a primal growl, his hips slamming into yours harder, faster, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. his movements are relentless, each thrust a story to his desire, his need for you. you can feel the tension coiling tighter within you, the pressure building to a breaking point.

but then, in the midst of your euphoric bliss, you slowly open your eyes, and your jaw drops in shock. he placed you directly in front of the window, where all the fans are just outside, oblivious to the scandalous scene unfolding inside. the reality of the moment crashes over you, and you gasp, suddenly aware of the possibility of being seen.

“c-cho… the—fuckk—the fans,” you manage to warn, your entire body jolting with his relentless thrusts, each one motivating him to go even faster, to claim you harder.

“nahh, now you wanna back out?” he snarls through gritted teeth, going absolutely feral. his grip tightens as he reaches to grab the back of your hair, pulling you flush against his chest, forcing you to take him deeper. the blinds rattle as he yanks them open wider, letting in more light for the fans to see everything happening inside. the flashes from paparazzi cameras blind your vision as they snap multiple shots of your fucked out expression, choso grinning behind like a devil at each click.

“say cheese, pretty. you’re gonna be a star,”

[nymphomatique]

wanna sit on nerd miguel’s face while i use my phone to snap other guys that’s my little chair fr😔😻

this just changed the trajectory of my life in a way you cannot understand.

cw: slight d/s dynamics, sending nudes, munch miguel makes an appearance once more, bro literally FEASTS, new character yippee (v minor), brief choking (more like a neck squeeze tbh), praise, squirting LOL, miguel gets kicked out again 😔 reader catching feelings?? we may never know. semi proofread today i felt nice. this is a longer one than usual, so enjoy!

“stop fuckin’ squirming down there and eat me out properly,” you say, looking down at miguel. his eyes are hazy and hooded, his glasses somewhere on the bed, his brown eyes clear as day. you grip his head by his hair and position him to where his nose brushes above your clit, and you moan at the feeling. “l-like that, okay miguel? be good for mommy.”

miguel takes heed of your instructions and begins to lick, suck, and thrust up into your wetness, making it hard for you to maintain something relative to your composure. in the throes of miguel’s mouth work, your phone screen, next to miguel’s head, lights up with a snapchat notification from none other than the star quarterback of your school, peter parker. you bite the corner of your lip, mouth pulling up in a smile at an idea. you grab your phone and open it to snapchat, seeing peters name at the top of your snap list. you open his snap and it’s a picture of him shirtless, abs on display, his happy trail just peeking over the band of his pants. his snap is captioned with text reading ‘wyd?’

you prop your camera up, angling it enough that miguel’s face and your pussy are out of frame. miguel stops for a moment to ask what you’re doing, but before he can get a word in you speak up, “if you stop, this will be the last time i ever let you touch me. got it? keep fucking going.” and wordless, miguel does as he’s told, going back to eating you but with a new energy this time. it catches you off guard a bit, and you let out a light f-fuck in response, but you don’t let it derail you from answering peter back.

peter. you and him have had.. complicated history to say the least. since high school, the two of you ran in the same social circles, with him being on your high school football team and you, a cheerleader. a true status quo. the two of you had ended up attending the same underaged parties, hooking up and even going steady for some time, until the blonde busty thing known as gwen stacy walked into your high school in sophomore year and made her claim on your then boyfriend. you figured it out after you walked in on them under the bleachers post-game, the spot where you habitually got on your knees to congratulate peter for his win. you stayed with him after a profuse apology and intense “i’m sorry” fuck session, to your dismay, but broke up with him in the beginning of your senior year. now, you two fuck from time to time, scratching an itch when you have it.

you look back at the tease of a photo on your phone, your tits spilling out your plunge neck crop top and your abdomen cutting off right above your pubic area, your pink thong still visible coming up the sides of your hips. you feel miguel plunge his tongue into you, causing you to fall forward, steadying yourself with one hand, phone in the other. “keep this up and i’m gonna squirt on you, but i bet you’re into that huh?” you laugh out a little, miguel moaning into you in response. you try not to get distracted and caption your snap to peter ‘nothing really’ and press send.

immediately, you see that he opens it and he replies just as fast, this time the photo of him in grey sweats with a visible tent, layer out on his bed. the caption attached, ‘wanna turn your nothing to a something? ;)’ and you roll your eyes. you move to answer him with another midriff picture, but you change your mind. “hey, look at me dweeb,” you say, turning the camera so that it’s capturing the angle of miguel’s mouth on your pussy, covered in spit and your juices. he looks up and sees the camera of your phone pointed down towards him and he goes red in the face and tight lipped. “remember what i told you about stopping,” you remind him, and he maintains eye contact with the camera as he goes back to lick a strip up your pussy, from your leaking hole to your clit. you move your unoccupied hand to his face, palm to his cheek as you slowly caress him with your thumb. “that’s a good boy.”

you move your hand from his cheek, trailing softly down to his strong neck and you wrap your hand around his neck and squeeze. at the pressure he lets out a groan, his hands moving to grip your thighs tighter to his face. “fuck miguel, you’re making mommy so happy right now- ah! fuck, just like that. keep doing that, o-okay?” you moan out. he says nothing, his eyes, still maintaining contact with the camera, clouded with lust, answering for him.

you snap a picture, turned on at the lewdness of it. it’s your pussy on miguel’s face, pink panties pushed to the side as his mouth is sucking on your clit, his hands gripping the fat of your thighs, and your hand around his neck at the same time. you make quick work to save the photo and caption it ‘busy, sorry’, feeling your orgasm approach. you press send and drop your phone, ignoring the back to back buzzing, probably of peters reply to your salacious snap.

a steady heat begins to boil in the pit of your stomach, and you keen forwards, your hand leaving miguel’s neck to grip the white sheets on your bed. “i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna-“ and with that, you feel the pleasure within you tighten then burst, like a damn breaking way, and you begin to tremble as miguel continues his work down on you. the overstimulation begins to hit you, and you feel a spurt of liquid leave your body and miguel groan and suck. “oh my god,” you heave out, “st-stop, no more.”

miguel places a final kiss to your mound as he moves to lift your limp hips for you. he feels sheepish how, his sweater and mouth drenched with your liquids. he wipes his lips and makes way to speak to your still firm on the bed. “are- are you okay?”

you say nothing, grab the nearest pillow you have, and throw it at him. miguel dodges and understands that means get the fuck out.

after collecting yourself, your body still spent and sheets still wet, you roll over on your back and grab your phone to look at what peter replied to you. you open his snap, and laugh a little at his responses.

peter 🚮

| is that fucking o’hara..?

| you’re fucking with me???

| fucking whore

| you sleep with nerds now??

you make way to reply to peter one more time, opening the camera and taking a picture of the wet bedsheets, caption it ‘nerds that can make me cum? yeah’ and unadd him after.

you finally haul yourself up to change your sheets when you see miguel’s glasses on your bed. you grab them and put them on your nightstand, feeling heat rush through your blood to your face, thinking of him and the mess he made of you.

fucking dweeb.

[star-centric]

Could you pretty please do some “how they would try to court you” (not in a ABO way, but in a Devildom dating culture way), headcanons / scenarios with Mammon, Beel, and Diavolo?

PAIRINGS: Mammon, Diavolo & Beel x reader (all separate)

NOTE: Let me say this- I love love LOVE requests like these!!! Any time I can write about stuff like this it makes me kick my feet and giggle. Also sorry this is so late- life is a hectic atm 🫠

CW: gender neutral reader, mentions of possessiveness, minor suggestive themes (mainly in Diavolo’s part)

How They Would Try to Court You (feat. Mammon, Beelzebub and Diavolo) (Headcanons)

MAMMON

Mammon’s a lot like his crow familiars- especially when it comes to courting. Combine that with his sin of greed and you’re in for a time!

He’s greedy, so it only makes sense that he wants all of the time. Whether it’s just laying around in your room or even just walking to class, he’s right by your side. People are starting to get used to see him literally everywhere you go. He might as well be perched on your shoulder like your own personal crow

You start to find little trinkets left for you- courtesy of Mammon. Those pairs of earrings you were eyeing at the boutique? You found them on your pillow when you got back from class. The cute pin you says reminds you of him? It's already in your locker. The items are usually something small, but still meaningful to you

Nests!! When you see a cozy bundle of blankets and pillows in both of your rooms, and how Mammon is very adamant (ie. very nervous of your approval) that you have to lay it, you feel like he have no choice but to get in it. It's so comfortable that when he sees you instantly relax he can't help but let his chest puff out in pride (and he may have let out a coo or two when he saw how peacefully you were sleeping)

Speaking of cooing- he’s humming around you too now. It's cute actually, and it makes him blush whenever you comment on it (he even does it without realizing it sometimes, which makes it even more adorable). You start to catch it when you praise him for something, but he starts doing it even more outside of it. He tries to play dumb about it, but he's really happy (and relieved) that you love how his voice sounds (it's what he was hoping for)

He starts to flash show his demon form to you more. It stemmed from your praise at his photo shoot, and ever since then he's been stretching his wings around you. Graze your fingers across them and Mammon would be putty in your hands

Mammon has always been selfish, especially when it comes to you. It’s obvious what he’s trying to do, but you’re still a bit surprised when he gets serious about it. The nights where he asks you not to leave, where he tightens his grip around you and buries his face into your neck, he means it

He wants to prove to you that he’s the only one you need, that you don’t need any other demon but him

BEELZEBUB

Beel’s courting style is simple, yet effective!

Despite it being a while since Beel felt this much of a pull towards someone like this, he really does try his best

He makes sure you’re well fed and never hungry- he knows how he can get on an empty stomach, plus he has to make sure you’re taken care of! It starts to become a very common sight to see Beel feeding some of his food to you, which leaves the others shocked, but he’s unfazed by it. They’ll even catch you bringing you food to share and not the other way around they’re used to

Beel is also like Mammon in a way- always by your side. Whether he’s just stuffing his face or observing something else, he’s right behind you like a second shadow. You didn’t realize how intimidating it was until you started to wonder why so many people started to steer clear of you- literally

(It wasn’t on purpose but Beel wasn’t complaining)

He also starts to work out around you more. You’ve always been amazed at his muscles, awed at how he lifts hundreds of pounds with ease. He’s never been one too full of pride, but the sensation bubbling inside of his chest made him want to show you more. His regular workouts, his fangol games, practice- he wanted you there for it all

Beel can’t explain it, but putting his strength on display for you feeds into a growing urge that’s hard to suppress. He wants to show you how strong he is, how easily he can protect you if something were to arise. The fanged grin on his face when he sees you cheering for him leaves him motivated to do even more

Sometimes he’ll slip into his demon form because of how excited he gets seeing you (which in turn makes his opponents/teammates nervous)

Soft bites- it happened by mistake the first time. Beel accidentally bit your finger while you were trying to feed him. He didn’t break any skin or hurt you, but when you bit him (playfully) in return something…changed inside of him after that. He wanted to do it more- leave your skin littered with marks done by him. And he wants to feel your own blunt teeth bite into him (even if you don’t leave a mark). It’s become a cute memory and another inside joke between you both

(Even if it makes him want to go feral everytime he sees your bite marks)

Beel also scents you! He has the strongest sense of smell in the house (and probably one of the strongest in the entire Devildom), so being able to leave his scent on you isn’t a problem. Lending you his clothes (which the sight of you with them does something to him too), wrapping you in his own blankets while burying his face into your neck- you don’t know why he’s been so cuddly lately but you’re not complaining (and neither is he)

Beel isn’t much of the possessive type, but he’s not willing to share you with any other demon outside of his family. Even then, his primal urge is somewhat satiated knowing that he’s left his mark(s) on you for others to see- and plans on leaving more to show that you’re his

DIAVOLO

The Future King of the Devildom has been lonely for some time now- so forgive him if he goes a bit…overboard in his methods

Remember how he was when you ate the pudding humans weren't allowed to eat? Imagine that type of behavior but with no restrictions

Expect to be adorned in the finest jewelry/outfits you could get in all of the Devildom. It gets to a point where you’re wearing literal millions- all he does is laugh at your shocked expression and waves off your worries. It’s not like he can’t afford it- plus he wants to see you in it all! (and show you how easy he can provide for you)

He’s a lot more bolder than he usually is during this time too (not that he wasn’t bold to begin with). He’s…just not holding back anymore

He’s more open with his touch, his hands finding his way to you a lot more common now. Whether it's out in public or behind closed doors, Diavolo can't seem to keep his hands to himself. The looks you get from people when you're out together make you a little embarrassed, but he holds his head up high anyway (which you're not surprised- he is the ruler still, not like they can say much anyway)

But Diavolo doesn't mind the looks- he wants them actually. He wants people to see you with him, to know that you're with him and that nothing is going to change that. That you're his and his alone. A part of him is tempted to keep you locked inside for his eyes only, but he knows that it wouldn't be right to do that to you

But he does invite you over to the castle more, which somewhat helps his urges. You’re waited on hand and foot by Diavolo, who doesn’t mind at all- he sent Barbatos away on “important tasks” (ie. give him alone time with you). It’s adorable how earnest he is in taking care of you, even if it’s something minimal as holding the door for you or feeding you himself

He’s in his demon form too, and thrives off of your attention- to see how you admire him makes his chest swell with pride. You’re in awe at his form (which makes sense since it’s a rare sight to see), and he loves it. He craves it. He encourages you to touch his wings and have your fingers graze his horns- just be careful not to tug on them too hard, unless you want to really get him riled up more than he is now

Diavolo is also like Beel in wanting to see his marks and scent left on your skin. He shows restraint, and it’s only ever done in spots he can see (mostly). There may be a dark splotch or two on your neck from when he got carried away (or when he wanted to show others that you already belong to someone)

Diavolo really hasn’t felt like this over anyone in years- Hell, probably in his entire life. He really has become enamored with you during your time in the Devildom that he can’t imagine loving someone else. You truly have made his life brighter with your presence

He understands that you can’t stay here forever, but that doesn’t mean that you can’t become mates regardless, right? Or rather, who’s going to stop him?

[mountainsandmayhem]

Shhh...Just A Little Bit More

DBF!Joel x Fem!Reader

18+ MDNI

Masterlist || Part Two || Part Three (Soft Version) || Part Three (Spicy Version)

Summary: Joel catches you somewhere you shouldn't be, twice. CW: all p no plot! age gap, spanking, dirty talk, parental guilt, brat and brat tamer, sub/dom dynamics, edging and degradation kinks if you squint AN: I found the bottom right photo on Pinterest and @mermaidgirl30 said it screamed DBF!Joel. I have never written for DBF before so please be kind. Dividers by @saradika-graphics - thank you for all your amazing graphics and dividers, I'd be lost without your page.

“Let go of me, you fucking psycho!” You’re practically yelling over the music of the club, wrenching your arm from Joel’s strong grasp. The security guard approaches and Joel shoots him a glare so dark that he holds his hands up and steps back. “What the fuck, Joel?”

“What are ya doin’ here, sweetheart” he demands, one eyebrow raised. 

“I’m working!” You stomp your foot and then get right up in his face, pointing a finger at him. Joel Miller, your dad’s best friend, hanging out in a strip club one town over. “The real question is, what are YOU doin here?” 

You’re only a bottle girl, you don’t get on the stage and have no intentions of stripping. It’s good money, great money actually. At 22 you’re already well on your way to having a down payment on a condo, it’s just too bad you’re having to lie to your parents. 

“With my crew, they picked the place. I’m takin’ you home. Go get your coat.” He crosses his arms over his chest, staring at you sternly. The music is pounding in your ears, the air thick with smoke. Even in the dimly lit hallway you can see the way Joel’s eyes rake over your body, taking in the very tiny Jean shorts and bralette you’re wearing. 

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” you spin and flip him the bird as you walk away. You know he’s staring so you give a little extra wiggle of your ass as you walk away. Joel Miller, staring at your ass. The fourteen year old inside you does a happy dance - that version of yourself had a tiny crush on him. Too bad he’s a stuffy, grumpy asshole now. You miss the fun, young Joel. He used to do cannonballs in the pool with you and his daughter Sarah. She was a few years older than you, but he was much more fun than your father. But now? Now he’s a certified prick. Thinking he can drag you away like some sort of barbaric caveman. He’s not your dad, even if he was, you’re an adult. 

When you finish your shift you head outside and pull up your Uber app, men often want to do shots with you so even though you never get drunk at work you also don’t drive there. 

See, Joel. I’m responsible. 

“Let’s go,” his voice is deep, still angry with you. You didn’t see him waiting by the door so you jump. 

“Jesus. You fucking scared me.” 

“Watch your language. Get in the truck.” 

You grumble under your breath that he should kiss your ass as he holds the door open for you. He stalks around to his side of the truck while furrowing his brow and shaking his head. 

“Got somethin’ to say young lady?” 

“Ya,” you say, slumping in the seat and putting your white vans on his dashboard, “kiss my ass.” 

He presses his lips in a thin line, you can see him eyeing your long toned legs from your peripheral vision before the engine roars to life and he speeds off down the gravel highway. 

When you pull up to the house he hops out of the truck and is right on your heels as you open the door. 

“I’m fine, Mister Miller.” You say with a sneer. You know he hates that, he has told everyone he’s ever been introduced to to call him Joel. 

Joel steps into your parents house and calls your dad’s name. “What the fuck! Joel! Shut up!” 

He calls for him again and your dad comes stumbling from his room, tying his robe around his sleeping attire. “Joel? What’s going on?” He flicks on the light, squinting against the brightness. “It’s 3 in the morning.” 

“Just thought I’d let you now know that the guys at work wanted to go to The Skin tonight. Caught your daughter working there.” 

“Are you fucking kidding me, Joel?!” You yell, pushing at his broad chest. Your dad stands there stunned. Eyes wide and mouth agape. He thought you were working as a nurses aide overnight at the hospital on weekends. He’s even seen you leave the house in scrubs. All a part of the web of lies you have weaved. 

“Don’t speak to Joel that way,” your dad snaps. “Go to your room young lady. We’ll talk about this later.” 

“Kiss my ass, cowboy.” You practically spit at him as you stomp to your room. As you round the corner your mom is standing in the hallway clutching her crucifix necklace. You have a sudden urge to hiss at her with the way she’s looking at you, like you’re a disappointment. A sinner, the worst kind of person in her eyes. 

The next morning was the fight of all fights with your parents. Your dad tried to ground you, your mom started shoving church pamphlets at you. They wouldn’t even fucking listen. 

“IM NOT A STRIPPER,” you yelled at them over and over again. 

Finally, when the yelling ceased, your dad said in a very quiet anger, “young lady. I FORBID you from going there again. Is that clear? I don’t care if you’re 22 or 42, if you live under my roof, you live by my rules. You’re going to go to continue going to your university classes during the week, and on weekends you will be home. Studying. Helping your mother with the chores. You will go to bed at respectable hour. If you need money, you ask us. Is that clear?” 

You blink back tears and head to your room, slamming the door behind you. You are NOT quitting that job. 

When the next weekend rolls around you say goodnight to your parents at 10pm and head to your room. You worked it out with your boss to work the midnight to 4 am shift. So you wait - ear pressed to your door until you finally hear your parents go to bed. You sneak out the same way you’ve been sneaking out for years and run down the street with your newly embroidered denim shorts in hand to meet your Uber. 

You peel yourself away from the men and the booze around 2am to get some fresh air, exiting through the back to the dimly lit alley. You take a big inhale through your nose before you see it. The truck. Joel’s truck. And Joel. Leaning against the truck box, arms crossed, one foot up on the tire. 

You flip him off and then turn back towards the back entrance to the club. He’s on you so fast, grabbing the back of your bicep in his large hand. “You little brat. You aren’t supposed to be here.” 

“Read the shorts, MISTER Miller.” You say it as much venom as you can muster. 

His eyes rake down your body and you can almost feel them burning into you. It feels so good, you never want him to stop. Your pussy throbbed when he called you a brat and you wouldn’t be surprised if your light jean shorts hadn’t been soaked through already. When his eyes reach the pocket he sees ‘Kiss My Ass, Cowboy’ stitched in baby pink lettering and his grip tightens. 

He’s fucking furious with you. Furious that you’re here. Furious that other men get to see you dressed like this. Furious that he wants you so fucking badly. But mostly, furious because he knows you want him too and he’s a weak weak man when it comes to pretty little things like you. He yanks you back against his body and you let out a pained moan. 

“Don’t make me punish you,” he says coldly in your ear and you fight to stop your knees from buckling. 

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you say breathlessly. 

Joel’s lips graze against the shell of your ear, hand gripping so tightly that you’re sure you’ll have bruises tomorrow. “So that’s what you want? You want me to punish you? Put you in your place? Huh?” 

You grind your ass back against him, “you would dare, Joel.” 

His other hand clamps down on your hip as he steers you to his truck, walking you around so no one can see the two of you. He opens the back door and pushes you forward until your legs are against the cold steel frame of the vehicle. “You don’t get to call me that. You call me Mr Miller from now on. Understood?” 

“Go fuck yourself, Joel,” you emphasize every vowel of his name, digging deeper. Pushing him. Pushing to see how far he’ll go. You get off on being a brat, and by the way his hard cock is pressing into your ass, he does too. 

He unbottons your shorts then lifts you slightly and pushes your upper body down onto the seat, the truck is high enough that your feet are dangling, ass stuck out for him. “Look at these slutty little shorts.” He tugs on the hem, your shorts now sitting just above your knees. Your pert ass is exposed to Joel and the night air. He tuts at the sight of you, “No panties. Little fuckin’ tease.” 

You whimper at his words, slick starting to coat your thighs. “You’re the one standing back there doing nothing.” You taunt. 

The cool night air spreads goosebumps across your skin, your clit twitches in anticipation of his touch. Other men have fucked you hard to get you to shut your mouth. And finally, FINALLY, you’re going to get fucked by Joel Miller. However, you grossly underestimated the different between the boys were with before and the man behind you now. 

His hand strikes your cheek hard and you let out a loud pained yell. “What the fuck, Joel!” 

“If you’re gonna be a brat,” his hand lands on your ass again, “you’re going to get a spanking.” His voice is harsh and rough as he hits you a third time. The sound of his skin on yours echoing through the cab of his truck. He hits you again, not caring about your cries of protest. 

You’ve never been spanked before and you’re thrown by your bodies reaction to it. At first you were shocked, then humiliated and then the pain and heat travelled to the base of your spine and you found yourself starting to get turned on. Arousal pools in your belly with each strike of his palm and when your pussy throbs the humiliation starts to creep back in. Are you supposed to be enjoying this so much, is this what Joel wants?

You bend your knees up, trying to make space between your bodies. One of his strong hands wraps around your ankles, pinning them to the back of your thighs as he spanks you again. 

“Stop! I’m sorry. I’ll - “ he strikes you again, harder than the last few times and there’s no more pain, every slap is full of pleasure. You let out a deep moan, your pussy practically gushing onto the leather seats. “Oh fuuuuck.”

Now that it’s turning you on it almost eggs Joel on. “Put your hands out in front of you,” he commands. Your arms shoot out, stretching them across the seat above your head. “Such a needy little slut. You’re drippin’ all over my fucking seat, baby girl.” He strikes you again and your arms flinch. “Keep them there.” 

Your ass is starting to get pink, his splotchy handprints covering it. The world around him starts to fade, all that he can see is you and your ass - and he wants to make it hurt. Then he wants to make it good. So very good. 

His strikes keep coming, he’s like a man possessed. “Stop, Joel. Please.” 

He drops your ankles, then uses his hand to spread your thighs apart, the denim biting into your knees. “Shhh…just a little bit more. Look at this messy pussy. You don’t want me to stop.” 

He hits you again and you start to hate how much he’s right. You don’t want him to stop, you’re on the verge of coming and he hasn’t even touched you yet. You’re sure the second he’s near your clit you’ll explode. 

Both of your cheeks are glowing red and Joel finally stops. You’ve both lost track of how many times he’s hit you. His large palm rubs the marks. You know you should keep your mouth shut, but fuck do you love to rile him up. 

“Are you done now? I have work to get back to.” 

Joel growls behind you. You hear the sound of his belt undoing, the leather whipping out from the demin loops. “I’m sick of your goddamn mouth, baby girl.” 

Your eyes widen in fear, stomach twisting up over the thought of him striking your sore ass with his thick leather belt. Your pussy, however, flutters in excitement. Slut, you think to yourself. 

You hear his buckle clinking, he grabs you by the hair and jerks your head back. “Open you mouth,” he says with a snarl. You obey him and he slides the folded up leather between your teeth. “Bite down on this. You can speak to me again once you’ve learned your lesson.” 

You press your teeth into the rough leather, waiting for his next move. His hand comes across the back of your thigh and it’s a whole different sensation. The pain shoots straight to your core, the walls of your pussy clenching harder than your teeth do as you whine out a high pitched squeal. On instinct your hands shoot back, knees bending to protect yourself from him. He steps back from you, without his heat you’re left in the cold air. 

“Arms up and legs down,” he says in an eerily calm voice. 

You whimper again, grinding your teeth against the leather of his belt before slowly peeling your arms and legs away from your body, returning to Joel’s desired position. You’re so wet that it’s staring pool along the leather seat of Joel’s truck, your hips slipping slightly. 

“Dirty little thing. I’m tryin to punish you and you’re sopping wet.” He steps forward and lays a loud sharp slap with perfect precision right across your sore thigh. 

You yelp again, whining as your lash line fills with tears. This is not what you thought would happen when Joel threatened to punish you. And you definitely didn’t expect to fucking love it. You’re so turned on that you feel dizzy. 

Joel’s lips come to your thigh. Light kisses and his scratchy facial hair peppering along your red hot skin. “Fuck me,” you say around the leather clamped between your teeth. 

Joel laughs into your skin, kissing along the handprints he’s left on your ass. You’re squirming underneath him, pushing your ass towards his face, desperate for him to make you come. His hands grip around your shorts and your whole body relaxes at the thought of him finally fucking you. “I need you to listen to me now, ok?” 

You nod fervently and he lets out an amused laugh. You arch your back at him invitingly, but instead of removing your shorts he yanks them back up. You moan out in protest as he lifts you down from the truck. His strong fingers work to do up your shorts before he spins you. You look like a wreck; mascara smudged under your eyes, cheeks pink, eyes glazed and dopey looking. Cock drunk and he hasn’t even given it to you. He grabs the belt and you release it for him. It’s killing him not to fuck you right here and now. 

His hand cups your chin, squeezing your cheeks and locking eyes with you. “Do you want me to fuck you?”

You try to nod but he’s gripping you so tightly. “Yea? Then you need to do what I say. Ok?” 

“Mm-hmm” 

“Go in there and quit. Then come back out here and I will fuck you so hard that you’ll feel it in your throat.” 

Taglist:

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[niningtori]

mastermind | oneshot

pairing: choi beomgyu x you

summary: you should be used to your relationships failing by now, but after finding out your boyfriend, yeonjun, cheated on you, you're devastated yet again. and beomgyu, your best friend, is there to pick up the pieces, just like always. but isn't it a little odd that things just never seem to work out?

genre: romance, angst, smut (MDNI), yandere

warnings: YANDERE!GYU, manipulation, gaslighting, SMUT (MDNI!) creampie, breeding kink, pregnancy kink, dirty talk, degradation, if i missed anything pls lmk!

word count: 5.1k

notes: ... hi. i'm reposting this with major edits but i hope you all still like it!

｡o.ﾟ｡*･♡♡･*｡ﾟo｡ ｡o.ﾟ｡*･♡♡･*｡ﾟo｡

do you love your boyfriend? of course. do you trust him? of course. so are you surprised to see a photo of him very clearly making out with another woman? well, of course.

your friends, your family, and even passersby would simply tell you you shouldn’t be, though. yeonjun used to be very well known for his sexual escapades, so when you announced he was your boyfriend, nobody was particularly happy for you. especially not your best friend in the whole world, beomgyu. 

“he’s just gonna hurt you, just like the last one!” 

you remember flinching at this. you remember how hurt and indignant you felt at the time. you also remember the silent treatment you gave him, and the cold war that began shortly thereafter. he apologized afterwards, of course, but you had asked him what was so bad about you that he couldn’t just believe that yeonjun had changed for you. he was silent at this, which only made you even angrier. it was all pointless in the end, you suppose.

as you sit on beomgyu’s couch, your phone rings again. you have a special ringtone for yeonjun, so you don’t even bother to check the caller id before you silence it. he’s been calling you incessantly since you texted him that you saw the picture and were done with him. your face is downcast and if you weren't so consumed by your sadness, you'd notice the faint look of delight in beomgyu’s eyes. 

“i think you should just block him,” he says as nonchalantly as he can muster. maybe in another state of mind, you'd register the satisfaction in his tone, but right now? all you can sense is his urgency, which can easily be explained away by selfless and sincere concern. just how he likes it.

“you’re right,” you sigh. “i guess i just don’t understand. things were going so well, and then he goes and does this to me. i don’t know what i did wrong,” you say while burying your face in your hands. he almost can’t control the way his lips want to curl up at this, but he’s become nothing if not a master of containing his true emotions. he’s kept them from your prying eyes for years, after all.

“aww, baby. it’s not you, it’s him. he’s just not the right guy for you,” he coos, but for some reason, you can’t help but be annoyed at his kindness. 

“i know you want to say i told you so, so say it,” you snap, pulling your face from your hands and scowling at him.

“i don’t want —” 

“if you wanted me to learn my lesson, i’ve learned it, alright? i don't need to be taught again,” you say with a huff. you know you’re being unreasonable. you know you’re being a bitch, but you just can’t help it. who told beomgyu to be right about your potential partners all the damn time? fuck his crazy-accurate intuition.

he looks genuinely hurt by your harsh words, though, so you can’t help but feel a wave of regret wash over you. you’re drowning in it, even, as you watch his puppy eyes gloss over.

“beomie, baby, i’m so sorry,” you say, gently grabbing his face with one hand and pushing his long hair behind his ear with the other. “i know i’m being awful to you when you’re just trying to help.”

“it’s okay,” he says solemnly, looking like a kicked puppy. “as long as you’re sorry.” somehow, his easy acceptance of your apology makes you feel even worse. you pull him in for a hug and he buries his face in your neck to a) soak up your scent and b) hide his growing smirk. but you’re too caught up in your feelings to notice.

“it’s really okay,” he assures once you part.

“no, it isn’t. i’m being a shitty friend. how about you stay over tonight? we can watch a movie and i’ll order something for us to eat,” you suggest. he graciously accepts your peace offering and the night is spent with giggles and an overt amount of cuddling.

as you’re drifting off to sleep, you feel beomgyu plant a kiss on your forehead. to anyone else, this might come across as oddly intimate, but you know better. people have said that you two would make a good couple, but you two do nothing but laugh it off every time. they just don’t understand your dynamic. he’s a man like any other, you guess, but seeing him as anything other than a friend is simply laughable. you know he feels the same exact way about you, too, which is why you are unfazed by his next words. 

“i love you. it’s just — i just love you so much, you know?” he whispers.

“aww, beomie. you know i love you, too. you’re my best friend in the whole world,” you murmur as sleep finally overcomes you.

if the lights were on, you’d see how his face falls and contorts into something like a grimace.

-

yeonjun has been spamming you like crazy, so you listen to beomgyu and block his number as well as his social media accounts. you think this whole chapter of your life is over, but, as always, you are wrong.

a week or so after your messy breakup, a sudden knock at your door pulls your attention away from mindless scrolling on your phone. you don't think much of it — it’s probably just beomgyu with some takeout, or something. however, when you look through the peephole, you realize that yeonjun is not finished bothering you just yet. 

“baby, please. i know you’re there. please, just open up. i’ll explain everything!” he pleads. you’re not particularly known for your callousness of heart, so it doesn’t take much more begging for you to feel guilty and let him in. you open your door with a sigh. 

“thank you!” yeonjun says with a look of pure relief as he hurriedly enters your apartment. he takes a seat on your couch (unprompted, you might add) and takes a shaky breath. you cautiously seat yourself on the other end of the couch and prepare to listen to whatever bullshit he has conjured up for your viewing pleasure before you decide that it’s best just to cut to the chase. ripping the band-aid off, and all that.

“look, i don’t care that you’re sorry. there’s nothing you can say to make me change my —” 

“it was beomgyu!” he exclaims before you can get another word out.

“... what?” you ask confusedly. where the hell is he going with this?

“the girl, the picture, fucking everything was all his fucking fault. he did it,” he rants. oh. he must think you’re fucking stupid.

“yeonjun, please don’t waste my time,” you sigh. “i think you should leave,” you add, getting up from your seat.

“wait!” he pleads, reaching for your hand and gently pulling you back down. “remember how i always told you that i had a weird feeling about him? like how something always felt… off?” oh well. if he wants to continue putting on a show, then so be it. besides, it’ll be a funny story to tell beomgyu later on.

you nod.

“well, he always looked at me weirdly. like, whenever i’d walk into the room, there was always this… this tension and i never knew why, but i understood it as soon as we made things official. it’s because he likes you.” you’re silent for a moment and yeonjun actually thinks he’s getting through to you before you burst into near-maniacal laughter. his face falls.

“beomgyu? beomgyu likes me?” you say between giggles. beomgyu loves you like a sister. no way in hell does he harbor a shred of romantic love for you. 

“you’re not listening,” he grunts, slightly tugging at his own hair in frustration. “he’s always been weird, and the other night at the bar, he introduced me to that girl you saw me ‘kissing’. they kept giving me drinks until i could barely fucking see straight. then she kept coming onto me, but i said no. i finally told her to kick rocks, but the next thing i knew was that she was kissing me. i know it sounds crazy, but you have to believe me.” you want to dismiss everything he’s saying, but his utter sincerity seems to strike a chord within you. you can’t say you believe him, but he continues before you can properly digest his words.

“think about it. why the hell would i cheat in such a public place where all of our friends hang out? don't you think i would be smarter than that? and even if i wasn't, you know me. you know i would never cheat on you.” he seems desperate now, but it’s still hard to believe that beomgyu orchestrated this entire thing instead of the very real possibility that yeonjun just got drunk and acted recklessly.

“alright, this isn’t funny anymore. you need to stop,” you warn, not liking how much he’s making sense.

“think,” he repeats with conviction.

so you do. you think back to all of the tumultuous relationships you’ve had until now. they've all ended in different ways, yes, but they all had one common denominator: beomgyu. oh, beomgyu saw your boyfriend getting cozy with his ex. you’re having an argument with your boyfriend? beomgyu thinks he’s a piece of shit because of how he treats you, you obviously deserve better! wait, your boyfriend keeps taking too long to text you back? he’s just losing interest! it’s clearly better to break it off now rather than getting too invested when you’re inevitably going to break up, anyway. and all the other greatest hits. your face twists from focused to horrified as the realization sinks into your bones. it's beomgyu. it’s always been beomgyu. 

you look to yeonjun with pure shock in your eyes and he meets your gaze with a look of sympathy. you finally get it. 

“junie, i’m so sorry,” you say, tears springing into your eyes. “i’m so sorry i doubted you.” 

“it’s okay,” he replies with a melancholy smile. “he manipulated you.” 

“does… does that mean we’re back together now?” you ask, voice tinged with hope. his smile falters at your question, and you feel a sense of dread.

“i need some time,” he says after a pause, dropping his hand from yours. “you really hurt me. i understand that beomgyu manipulated you, but it really hurts that you didn't trust me, you know?” 

“i understand,” you quietly reply. you’d be hurt if the tables were turned — it’s only natural. you just hope to god above that you haven’t let beomgyu ruin another good thing for you.

-

beomgyu is confused as to why you’ve been ignoring him for the better part of a week. you don’t respond when he texts or calls, and his intuition is telling him that it has something to do with yeonjun. maybe you’re just shutting down because of the breakup? it was particularly brutal this time around, after all. he’s lucky that yeonjun has such a lascivious sexual history, or else you might not have bought his little charade, even with the proof presented directly in front of you. that’s how much you love(d) yeonjun. the thought causes jealousy to rear its ugly head in his stomach, but whatever. there’s no way you’re going back to him after the way the scandal has made its way through your social life. even if you do want to get back together with him, there's no way your pride will let you. your pride has been a particularly nasty sort of obstacle in beomgyu’s pursuit of you, but it’s absolutely delicious to be able to use it against you like this. serves you fucking right.

still, it’s his job as your dutiful best friend to cheer you up. with this in mind, he picks up your favorite takeout and heads to your place. he smiles when he imagines the way you’ll gratefully embrace him once you realize that he’s here for you. maybe this time you’ll understand that he’s always been the one who’s there for you when someone hurts you. maybe this time will be his big break, finally freeing him from the purgatory he has been in for god knows how long.

he knocks on your door with a hopeful smile on his face. surprisingly, you’re swinging the door open mere seconds later with your eyes similarly lit up with hope.

“yeon— oh. it’s you,” you say, deflating immediately. there’s a certain sense of resentment in your tone that he catches onto, but he chalks it up to disappointment. his face falls. goddamn it. damn it all to hell.

“i brought you some food to cheer you up,” he says while shaking the plastic takeout bag, completely ignoring the slip of another man’s name. 

he invites himself in, slipping off his shoes and sitting down on the couch as he usually does. 

he waits for you to join him, but when he looks up at you, all he sees is you staring at him, arms crossed and face contorted in anger. surely you can’t be that upset that he’s not yeonjun, right? now that he thinks about it, why would you be expecting yeonjun, anyway? hadn’t you effectively cut him off? did you talk to him and take him back after all that (you think) he’s done? that can’t be right. unless… unless you actually let him talk to you. oh god, please tell him that’s not what happened.

“what’s wrong?” he asks, face devoid of anything deeper than curiosity and worry. 

you’re silent for a moment before you carefully choose your next words.

“i talked to yeonjun,” you reply, and his heart sinks to his stomach. “he told me some… interesting things.”

beomgyu hopes you don’t notice how hard he gulps. you do not.

“what did he say?” he asks, face tense but still showing no clear signs of guilt. 

“he told me what happened that night. he told me how you got him drunk and basically forced that girl onto him. he also said that you’re the reason none of my relationships work out,” you declare, opting to stop beating around the bush and just get some answers. you study his face for a crack of some sort, but there is none.

“and what do you think?” he asks quietly.

“i think… i think he might be telling the truth,” is what you say, but you’re sounding increasingly unsure with every word because beomgyu looks more hurt than you’ve ever seen him.

“you believe him over me?” he asks, voice cracking and lips trembling with his brown eyes glossed over in what you can only describe as devastation. god, either beomgyu’s a really good actor, yeonjun’s a really good actor, or you’re just fucking stupid.

“i… i don’t know what to think, beomgyu,” you whisper after a pause. all he does is nod before his next words pierce your heart.

“is that why you’ve been ignoring me?”

jesus christ. you were so sure that yeonjun was telling the truth when he told you about beomgyu, so ignoring him only seemed natural under the circumstances, but he looks every bit like the victim in light of your accusations. his trembling lips and wounded gaze make you want to strangle yourself for ever doubting him. as you feel yourself being consumed with remorse, though, you remember the sincerity and desperation in yeonjun’s words. maybe this was all a huge misunderstanding? maybe they’re both convinced that they’re right? 

“y-yes. i’m sorry. i was just confused. maybe he just misunderstood?” you babble. he likes your hesitancy, but it’s still wearing on his patience. as much as he wants to say he can’t believe that you’d question him because of some guy you dated, he can believe it when it comes to you. you always, always, always hurt him like this, and he’s had just about enough.

“and what if it’s true?” he asks, pathetic facade wiped clean off of his face while something more somber replaces it entirely. your eyes lock with his and you’re stunned silly. 

“what?” is all you can manage to reply with. 

“what if i pushed that girl onto yeonjun? what if i ruined all of your relationships? what would you do?” 

“so it’s true?!” is all you can say, guilt flaring into sheer rage and hurt. 

“so what if it is?” he asks, as if he doesn’t comprehend how twisted this is.

“so… so how could you do that to me?!” 

“i was only doing what’s best for you,” he impatiently replies. “they were only gonna hurt you, can’t you see that? even before i did anything, there were still all those men who cheated on you, lied to you, used you. what’s wrong with wanting to protect you from people like them? i just couldn’t stand to see you living like that!” he argues, clearly believing he’s completely justified in all of this.

sure, you’ve been hurt before even without his intervention, but that doesn’t mean he can just play puppeteer in your love life to “protect” you from anything similar happening ever again. you trusted him and he manipulated you. he acted like a knight in shining armor this entire time while knowingly sabotaging any potentially good thing that could come your way. and he did it all because he wants to protect you? bullshit. 

“you know, i thought that even if everyone other man in the world could hurt me, you never would,” you say shakily, either from sadness or anger. maybe both. “i guess i was wrong.”

“hurt you?! hurt is watching the person you love fuck other people over and over and over again! hurt is watching you laugh me off and never even fucking considering me as an option, goddamn it!” he yells while slamming his hand on your coffee table. 

“so your solution was to fuck up every relationship i have just to have me to yourself?! do you not realize how fucked up that is?!” you yell back, trying to appear unfazed by his increasingly enraged behavior. he seems to falter at this, genuinely at a loss for words at your unforgiving pinpointing of his erratic actions. the desperate, eager-to-please beomgyu you know all too well is finally back and you feel your confidence surge because of it.

“i only did that because —”

“why? because you love me? or think you do?” you mock with a hollow laugh. “you don’t purposely ruin the life of someone you love.” he looks genuinely wounded by your words. 

“but i —”

“i don’t care. get out,” you say mercilessly. you’re absolutely through with listening to his fucked up ideations about love and what his twisted moral compass deems as justified because of it. you’re so preoccupied with preaching on your soapbox, you don’t even realize his attitude has once again shifted from the compliant beomgyu to the one you don’t recognize at all. 

“... no,” he says flatly. 

“did you not fucking hear me? i said get out,” you repeat through clenched teeth. normally, your raised hackles would be enough to scare him off, so you figure he’ll tuck his tail and leave right about now. oh, how wrong you are.

“are you deaf?” he asks with a sneer. “i said no.”

“what do you mean, no?” you ask. somewhere in the depths of your mind, alarm bells begin ringing, but it’s far too late to heed them. plus, you’re still under the impression that he’ll bend to your will. 

“oh, so you’re not deaf. just stupid,” he snorts. your jaw is agape at his audacity. beomgyu has caught an attitude and gotten fresh with you before, sure, but nothing like this. to say you’re dumbstruck would be to put things in the mildest of terms. you can barely get out your next sentence.

“w-what do you mean?” 

“i’m not leaving this apartment,” he says firmly, and before you can even ask him to explain, he’s dragging you away with a painful grip.

“ow! beomgyu, you’re hurting m—” 

“shut up. i told you what real hurt is, but you're not fucking listening. i don't want to hear another word come out of your mouth,” he says in a monotone voice. if the alarm bells were ringing in the depths of your mind before, they’re absolutely blaring at the forefront of your brain right now. 

“what are y-you —”

“i thought i told you to shut up,” he snaps before roughly grabbing your face and planting his lips on yours. the kiss is crude. it’s absolutely vulgar with the way it’s all tongue and teeth and saliva, but after a few seconds of uncertainty, you find yourself melting into it. this is wrong. you two are the best of friends, almost like brother and sister. and more than that, you love yeonjun, right? you’re supposed to be working on getting back together with him, aren’t you? but your reason starts to be sucked away as you feel his hands caress your body, leaving nothing but fire in their wake.

you don’t know how you got here, almost completely naked as you lay on your back while beomgyu continues attacking your lips. it’s blazing hot and you can’t help but feel your underwear becoming wet with every moan that escapes his mouth and consequently reverberates onto your tongue. as if he already knows the intricacies of your internal battle, one of his hands finds its way to your now soaking wet pussy and he uses his index and middle fingers to spread the slickness around. he swirls his fingers around your hole and just barely pushes one of them into the entrance. you gasp at the shallow intrusion and you can feel his notorious shit-eating grin pressed across your lips as he feels how tight you are. you’re ridiculously turned on and he knows it. he pauses his actions only to unzip his pants and yank them down to his knees. your eyes widen at what you can only describe as his huge appendage, all reddened and already leaking. you feel your cunt throbbing with even more need at the sight, but your last shred of reason still makes you hesitate.

“beomgyu, we can't… we're friends, and yeonjun is —”

“can’t you just let me make you feel good? god, you’re making this so difficult, but what the fuck else is new,” he growls. 

he's right. you are making things difficult. there's no way of salvaging your friendship after this, so what's the point in holding back now? you realize that while he may be absolutely unhinged, his feelings for you are real. do you reciprocate them? you don’t know yet, but the thought of him doting on another person the same way he dotes on you makes you feel uneasy. as for yeonjun? well, he deserves better than the cesspool of turbulent emotions that you currently find yourself in. 

“you still sure you don’t want me?” he asks cockily. you, with all of your pride, can only muster up a feeble shake of your head. he knew the answer before you gave it to him, but his condescending gaze shows you that your words have scratched a certain itch of his.

he rubs his hardened length against your folds and it’s all you can do to resist locking your ankles around his waist and pulling him into you, but something stops you. protection. you don’t even have to say it, because he knows you too well for your own good.

“let me fuck you raw,” he says breathily, just barely poking his length into your tight hole. “i know you need it, baby. just let me take care of you.” you’re silent for a moment before pinching out your next words.

“p-pull out?” he won’t because he knows you’ll be begging him for his cum when he’s done with you, and you already know he won’t, even when he nods and promises he will. you don't know why you even asked. 

the ache you feel to have him buried inside you is quickly replaced by the ache you feel once he begins to stretch you out. it’s a stinging, burning sort of pain, but that’s nothing in comparison to the pure pleasure you feel as his flared tip drags along your walls. he begins with thrusting shallowly, fucking you open like you’re a virgin, and you’re so tight while he’s so big, you might as well be. 

painfully slowly, he pushes each and every inch of himself into your gummy hole. he reaches places you didn’t even know existed and stretches you open so good all you have the brainpower to call the sensation is fullness. overwhelming fullness. when he finally sheathes himself in you completely, a strangled cry leaves both of your throats as you feel him throbbing inside of you and he, in turn, feels you pulsating around him. 

after you adjust, you expect him to start drilling into you with reckless abandon, but he does nothing of the sort. just watches you with a strange look on his face. 

“b-beomie? what are you doing?” you ask pathetically, head raising up from its place on the pillows to meet his wanton gaze.

“beg me for it.”

“beg for w—” your question is interrupted by a sharp smack on your sensitive pussy. 

“beg me for it. beg me to fuck you like a whore. i won’t tell you again,” he says menacingly. your bleary eyes are so confused, so stupid, and so, so cute, but he’s determined to use the last of his self-control to get you to feel even a fraction of the desperation he’s felt for years. well, even if you don’t, he’ll spend the whole night fucking you dumb until you do. but you’re so hungry for his dick, you don’t even realize that he’s bluffing.

finally, you understand what he’s asking of you, and you waste no time to comply. 

“n-need your cock, beomie. need you to make me f-feel good,” you say, trying to retain even a semblance of your dignity. this brings a mean smirk to his face, but he’s not done with you, yet.

“surely you can do better than that?” he taunts, rocking his hips ever so slightly so you can feel every inch of his length and girth teasingly hitting your cervix, but providing no relief. fuck your dignity. you need him.

“please! please, i need you! need your cock to fill me up!” you whine.

“mhmm, and?”

“need you to fuck me! need you to fill me up with your cum!” well, there goes your resolve to have him pull out. this seems to satisfy his sadistic desires.

“oh, my love. all you had to do was ask,” he says with a grin. and that’s when he starts. 

his hips meet yours in the most punishing way, and that’s what this is: a punishment for the way you’ve treated him all these years. you can feel it in the way that his fingernails dig into your skin and in the way that he mercilessly presses down on your tummy until all you can feel is pressure building up to something unknown.

“who else can fuck you like this? who else can split you open like this?” he asks as lewd squelches reverberate throughout the room. 

“n-nobody! only you, beomie!” you cry.

“that’s my good girl, such a good girl. baby just needs me to use her like a fucktoy, right?” and all you can do is whine and clench in carnal need as the poor springs of your bed squeak with every unforgiving thrust.

“oh, you like that, don’t you?” he snickers. “you like being my little whore. you’re just a toy for me, alright? free to use whenever i feel like it.” you nod in agreement and he lets out a chuckle as he pounds into you at an unimaginable speed, balls slapping your ass with every fiery thrust. each time he pumps into you, your pussy’s clamping down on him and sucking him in like that’s where he’s meant to be. and maybe it is. 

“god, i’m close,” he groans after pumping into you for what feels like hours, and you whimper like a bitch in heat. “honey, don’t worry,” he tuts. “i’ll fuck you every day, i’ll fill you with my cum so you can’t leave. not that you’ll want to after this. you’re made for me, made to be my cumdump whenever i want.” 

“y-yes!” you shriek, somehow liking the idea of being full of his cum forever and ever. 

“that’s my girl. baby just wants me to fuck her good. that’s all you needed, right? that’s why you’ve been such a brat. you just needed me to show you what it’s like to be fucked right,” he says, rolling your clit for good measure, which is enough to make you reach your high as it comes crashing down around you. beomgyu wasn’t lying when he said he was close, so when he feels you clenching around his big cock as if you’re milking him for all that he’s worth, you feel it twitching before hot bursts of cum paint your inner walls until you’re leaking white and seeing stars. he continues with slow, lazy pumps until he softens. you stay like that for an indeterminable amount of time, breathing raggedly while your bodies are overcome with thrums of delight. 

when he finally pulls out and lays down beside you, bodies slick with sheens of sweat, he pushes your hair back behind your ear and plants a kiss on your temple. shakily, he takes his hand and rubs it along your distended tummy, full of his cum. he lovingly strokes it with an awed smile on his face.

“such a good girl for me,” he repeats. “i can’t wait until you’re pregnant. you’ll have as many babies as i can give you, right?” and all you can do is nod deliriously. he smiles in satisfaction as you eagerly agree to his every nasty, perverted thought. “god, i love you so much. and you love me too, right? say it. say you love me.”

“i love you.” and you realize that you do.  this man is deranged, but he’s yours, and for better or for worse, you're his. especially now that you might very well be carrying his children. and even if you aren’t, you know he’ll make good on his promises to keep fucking you until you are. should you be glad that he effectively ruined every potential relationship for you? you were unsure before, but you realize that nobody has or ever will love you as much as he does, even if he has a demented way of showing it. well, it is what it is. there’s no way out after this.

notes pt. 2: i hope this goes over better after the editing!

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[literaila]

gojo is the type of scare kid megumi that the teeth that just fell out will never grow back again

“i need the first aid kit,” megumi says, a scowl already in his voice.

does satoru flinch away from the seven year old? well, um… maybe a little bit. but to be fair he was very distracted trying to pick out a new photo to set as his home screen.

should it be you wearing his glasses with a dopey smile? or tsumiki holding that kitten you said they couldn’t keep? he still can’t decide.

…and he’d forgotten that megumi was even home.

(when satoru decided to become a father, he didn’t think it would include several heart attacks and being physically tormented every day.)

after a moment of reflection, satoru scoffs, readjusting his glasses and sparring megumi a glance—the frown was expected honestly. “what happened to ‘hi, how are you?’”

“i don’t care,” the boy answers, shaking his head. “it’s not under the sink.”

“what isn’t?”

“the first aid kit.”

the look megumi is giving him is a little bit insulting, actually. it’s not satoru’s fault he wasn’t blessed with telepathy. or that someone lost the first aid kit (it was him).

“what’d you need it for?”

megumi huffs, gesturing vaguely to himself. he is a boy of many words.

satoru raises a brow. “do i need to call y/n?”

“no,” megumi’s arms are crossed, defensiveness a personality trait. “i just need some gauze.”

“for what, kid?”

“i lost something.”

satoru snorts, inspecting him. he doesn’t look all that different—he could use a hair cut but that’s nothing new. “your hand? an eyeball? elaborate.”

“i lost… my tooth.”

satoru blinks.

and then he leans himself on the arm rest, a smile making its way to his face. it’s a bit devious because satoru can’t remember the last time megumi had to concede to anything. or answered a single question, actually.

he’s so lucky you’re not home right now.

megumi is looking at him blankly, a slight pink to his cheeks—he absolutely hates it when satoru gives him that look. which satoru knows very well.

satoru gestures at the boy, tilting his head.

megumi sighs, looking towards the wall. and then, very reluctantly, he opens his mouth, leaning his head back so satoru can see.

the boy had already lost his front teeth before satoru ever got the chance to torment him about it, but he’ll take what he can get now.

there’s a little bit of blood coming from his mouth—which you would tell him is a tale tell sign that megumi has been messing with his teeth—but it doesn’t even look that bad.

satoru has seen plenty worse from cursed spirits, and besides, he doesn’t care.

“yup,” satoru makes a face, shaking his head mournfully. “looks rotten to me.”

megumi automatically snaps his mouth shut, eyes widening at him. “what?”

“where’s the tooth? i need to check it for disease.”

“what disease?”

“if you grind your teeth too much they start to deteriorate,” satoru says, tone overly condescending. “they can’t get infected. don’t you know that?”

megumi takes a step back, still crossing his arms. “i don’t grind my teeth.”

satoru laughs, reaching out to ruffle the boy’s hair—ignoring the push he gets when he does (he’s seven. why is he so strong?) “keep telling yourself that, kid.”

“i don’t.”

“your attitude problem is no secret, bud.”

“i’m not your bud.”

“you better go get that tooth,” he leans back on the couch, feigning indifference. “so we can mail it to your doctor.”

“that’s gross.”

“okay,” satoru shrugs. “if you want to die, it’s whatever. less work for me.”

“i’m not going to die,” megumi goes to stand in front of him, staring a hole into satoru’s head.

“we’ll see.”

“i’m not,” megumi kicks his foot, indignantly. “that’s not even how teeth work.”

“i think i would know how they work. you know, since im older than you?”

“and dumber.”

satoru only laughs—very entertained by the slight panic twinge to megumi’s voice—and doesn’t respond.

it works on megumi the same way it works on you—the silence absolutely must be filled.

satoru is a little gleeful, honestly. megumi very rarely falls victim to his tricks—or, at least, unintentionally victim.

“can you call a doctor now?” he asks, gruffly. “to get it checked?”

satoru glances at him, a tiny smile on his lips. “i thought you didn’t want to get it checked. i thought that wasn’t how teeth worked.”

“you just said that—“

and megumi is basically whining, foot stomping on the ground, anger something more like worry—but then the front door opens and he stops.

satoru throws his head back in a silent groan. of course you would show up just in time to ruin all of his fun.

“hey, megs,” you say as you walk into the living room, bag slung across your shoulder. “how was school? is tsumiki back yet?”

megumi goes up to you, frowning. “do i need to go to the doctor to get my teeth checked?”

you tilt your head, giving satoru a knowing glance. “did something happen?”

“our boy is turning into a man,” satoru says for both of them, standing up. “losing all of his teeth, greying hair. they grow up so fast.” a hand goes to his chest, and megumi pushes off the arm he tries to sling around the boys shoulder.

you give megumi a small smile, ignoring satoru. “did you lose a tooth?”

“gojo said that it’s infected. do we have to send it to the doctor?”

you frown, hard eyes meeting satoru’s. “why would it be infected, gojo?”

his hands immediately go up in defense. “hey, i’m just trying to teach the kid about the importance of dental hygiene—“

“he’s messing with you,” you tell megumi, patting his head. and then you look back up to satoru with a scowl. “and what would you know about dental hygiene?”

satoru crosses his arms. “i know all about—“

you shake your head, pushing past him. “does your mouth hurt?” you ask megumi. “is it still bleeding?”

“a little.”

“where’s the first aid kit?” you turn back to satoru, unamused.

he grins. “what’s that?”

you flick his forehead and turn away. “show me the tooth, huh? we’ll have to put it under your pillow so the tooth fairy comes tonight.”

you’re both walking away, heading towards the bathroom, and satoru hears megumi say, “i know that’s not real.”

“you know nothing,” you’re telling him, and satoru gasps as you both disappear.

“what do you mean ‘not real!?’” he calls, but no one is listening.

[callooopie]

CALLOOOPIE‼️❗️‼️❗️‼️❗️‼️❗️‼️❗️

DROP A MODERN!CREGAN HEADCANON LIST. AND MY LIFE, IS YOURS. 🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶

Modern!Cregan Stark headcannons (pt. 1)

Forgive my northern attitude, oh I was raised on little light — Northern Attitude // Noah Kahan

okay… we did not get much Cregan.. so these modern vibes might be a little off. I looked long and hard (🤨) at a photo of him and these were the vibes I conjured up.

This man.. is so serious. Whenever you look at Cregan he looks like he’s going to pop a blood vessel with how tense he is. He’ll tell you not to worry, this is his natural state (“natural state?!?!”) you don’t think you’ve ever seen him relaxed… although there are times he lets loose, it’s reserved and calm. If he does relax it’s still oddly tense or as if he’s on edge. He’s mastered the art of being both chill but perceptive of his surroundings to a headache inducing degree. “Hm? Yeah I’m fine. Don’t worry about me, honest. One of us needs to be alert here.”

Immediately dipped after college. He got his degree in environmental engineering, he’s out of there. You, Jace, and Davos once planned a summer trip to Cregan’s cabin way up north. Now, way up north? Think like the Yukon or the bush of Alaska—that’s where Cregan would make his home. It’s secluded, no one bothers him, and he can live off the land in relative peace. You three get lost, of course. It’s like you have to take a seaplane, and then hike for a bit to the nearest town, and then you’ll have to wait for him to pick you all up. “You guys kept running around town. It took me forever to find you. Texts? I don’t get those traveling from the cabin… oh well—you’re all here now. The air will do you idiots some good.”

Dog dad. Dog dad. Dog dad. Cregan’s got big dogs, he’s got little dogs. A livestock dog to care for his chickens, some other big dogs for hunting, and a lap dog for emotional support purposes. It’s a hearty mix of Labrador, Pyrenees, mountain dog, maybe even a shepherd of sorts. But the little dog? I feel like it’d either be a dachshund or a corgi. A corgi is a reliable herd dog on top of being just a little guy. But a dachshund would be something he would hold as he walked around the perimeter of his land. Or even better he would have both. But this is his herd, his squad. “Hey!—settle down everyone. Sit down.. down now! Sorry about them, they’re just excited to see you. They’re usually pretty lax, except around you it seems.”

Terrible driver. But not because he’s bad at it, but because he’s literally in the wilderness, there are no traffic laws to obey. He’s driving down a hill full speed no braking. You’re in the passenger seat holding on for dear life as the car literally shakes and jolts you around. But Cregan? He’ll be holding a simple conversation with you, voice not even shaking from the sudden movements of the jeep or truck as he navigates the country road. I cannot figure out if he has more truck vibes or more Jeep vibes. I feel like either would work—as long as they got the job done. And either way, both cars would be muddied and somewhat damaged—filled with survival gear, winter gear, more things tied down on top with bungie cords and hooks. “What do you need? Oh, yeah that should be in the back.. somewhere. Probably in one of the bags—lemme go check for you. Hang tight, be right back.”

This man fishes. Not like “leaving my bitch wife to go fishin’ with my boys” more like “I’m catching the radioactive catfish of Chernobyl and no one’s stopping me” type fishing. He gets into it, he goes crazy. Cregan’s out on a boat at sea looking for Cthulhu. Y’all know the show River Monsters? That’s Cregan’s type of fishing. Sure he does more ‘relaxed’ fishing once in a while, he enjoys the mix of adventure but also the quiet and the patience of the fish. He will talk about how beautiful the fish is, like Steve Irwin levels of talking to fish (and animals in general). Cregan’s a catch and release king, but if he does choose to use the fish he will use all of it from the head to the bones. Everything’s getting used and processed into something. “Let’s see what you caught.. oh nice, that’s a chinook salmon. A beauty too, look at the size of that thing. You caught that beast yourself without my help? It’ll taste better on an open fire, c’mon I’ll teach you how to gut it… don’t frown at me.”

Master chef I would think. It’s not Michelin star cooking, but cooking with the freshest ingredients possible? Cregan makes a mean salad from the veggies in his garden (a pretty big garden too, he built those wooden garden beds himself) and when he hunts he uses all the meat and bones from the animal as said before with the fish. He’s not overly hunting either, he gets enough for you and him to last a while. “Good harvest today, real good—everything was ripe and ready. What do you think? It all looks good? ..that’s.. that’s good. I’m glad.. save room for dessert too then. Have you ever had acorn cake?”

You know what? He’s a park ranger. Or a state ranger. He’s got a job where he can take care of the land and teach people about the environment and how to respect it. Cregan’s all about teaching little kids what plants are poisonous and then on the next call he’s busting folks for throwing litter into a river. He is the type that if he spots you maybe hiking or doing something while he’s on duty he will pretend to bust you over for something heinous or embarrassing. Bonus if there’s people around you, now you’re getting arrested for leaving a dildo attached to a tree. But usually? It’s silly reasons laced with compliments that make you blush or smile. “..Whatcha doing out here? Hiking? Suuure. Y’know we heard some reports about a.. a very um—beautiful person wandering looking lost.. just saying, I know my way around..”

Such a good listener. Cregan is for the people who just need an ear to listen to them. If something’s bothering you, upsetting you, or you’re just not feeling like yourself; he’ll lead you out to the back porch, gesturing for you to sit down on the step beside him. It’ll be quiet, except for the sounds of nature surrounding the cabin and the woods. You can see mountain ranges in the background, the midnight sun casting a hazy glow over the land. And the next thing you know is you’re pouring your heart out to him. Cregan would remain silent, unless you ask him for advice or support. He’s the type to not want to impose on you if you don’t wish to hear unsolicited opinions or comments on a matter—so you’ll need to tell him you want to hear his advice.

Busted ass cabin. It’s so good. There’s a nearby lake, there’s mountains in the distance. The woods are thick and beautiful. The people yearn for such a place. It’s such a relaxed vibe too, take off your shoes in the house though. There is a lot of cleaning that goes on however on account of the dogs around the home. But the cabin is lived in and homey. It’s cool and refreshing in the summers with the windows open, and it’s warm and cozy in the winters with the fireplace roaring. It’s not too big, but it’s not too cramped either. “Not too warm? Too cold maybe? …well if you’re cold there’s a good way to fix that—“

Cregan loves teaching you how to live off the land. It’s basically a part of what he does for his job. But with just you? It feels more special, more intimate. You’re eager to learn, and he’s more than happy to show you how to start a fire in an emergency, how to skin an animal and use all its parts for different things. What to do if you’re in a bind in the woods and what you should do first. It’s good advice honestly. Pure survival skills. His hands would be over yours, guiding them through the motions of something. His chin resting atop your head or on your shoulder as he explains each step or how something can be utilized to its fullest potential.

Don’t take his silence or his lack of reactions as something negative. Cregan’s just the type to silently revel in your presence first and foremost, no talking required. Most of your fishing or hunting trips are filled with silence, save for the sound of music from an old portable radio and the occasional sound of a beer can opening. Sometimes you read, sometimes you fish alongside him. But know that he does enjoy your company heavily, and if you do say something don’t worry he’ll respond. Sometimes he does worry maybe he’s a little too aloof or reserved when it comes to you. Reassure him that words aren’t always needed, and sometimes it’s good to just be next to one another without adding anything to it.

With you he can get a little silly. Cregan would lean against your side of the truck, a stupid smile on his face as you talk to him. If you’re hiking and there’s a muddy spot, he will pick you up and carry you over it. He’s the type to serve you food first before him, and if he’s having a snack he’s the type to share it without needing you to ask him. It’s like the phrase to be loved is to be seen. Fresh flowers for you every day, he wakes up early to make you coffee in bed. If you’re the squeamish type about hunting/fishing, he won’t go into the details of your dinner. And if you’re with him, he’ll take care of the food far off from you so you don’t need to see it.

[aangelkeii]

❝𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐌𝐀 𝐊𝐎𝐙𝐔𝐌𝐄❞ | Oops - Tweet, Missy Elliot ❦ ❀

Kinktober Day 3: Cock Warming (k.tober 2024)

A/N: GOD DAMNIT. okay so i rushed this im sorry it's not my fav but it's what you're gonna get. i'm so tired rn i should've listened to my girlfriend bro oh my gawd. also the photo of him on the ground is really tasty ngl

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

wc: 1.7k (hmm..) | warnings: fem! reader, singular use of the word 'cunt' (sorry, couldn't be helped), cock warming obvi, uhh li'l praise? literally the tiniest bit, this goes on during a stream so like.. voyeurism? viewers are adults dw, pornstar! kuroo is mentioned cuz i think that's so funny, kenma whines. o.0.

Wake up, eat a protein bar, turn on the computer, stream for however many hours, sleep for 3, repeat. 

That’s been Kenma’s routine for the past few weeks. He’s been doing charity with Kuroo, ‘Kodzuken: After Dark’, a cheesy title for a program where he does what he regularly does, just for an all-adult audience. He’s dealt with the guy for this long, and he’d do this stupid thing for him. It’s not good for him, though. It’s absolutely terrible, visible in the dark circles under his eyes and the extreme exhaustion written across his face, but he’s been doing this kind of thing for so long that he doesn’t see anything wrong with it.

You beg to differ.

Of course, you support him through his career because it’s what makes him happy (and what makes the money), but it’s gotten to a point that you’re living with a walking zombie instead of your sweet, loving boyfriend. You don’t want to be annoying and pester him about his unhealthy habits, but sometimes you just have to be stern with him. 

Sending him a quick text while he was streaming, asking if he could come to bed soon, proved to work somewhat. He did curl in next to you earlier than he usually did, but it was still considerably late at night. The worst thing about his habits is the fact that even with a total of 21 hours of sleep a week, he still manages to look so good, and feel mostly unaffected by it. Most of his exhaustion comes from the drop of adrenaline after a good stream.

You decided to do something about him. Not in a regular way, but in a way that would make him understand.

In the middle of a stream, you opened the door to the office and peeked your head in. Kenma heard the door creak a bit and muted his mic, turning in his gaming chair and pulling one side of his headphones off of his ear. 

“What’s up?” He muttered, half of his face illuminated by the harsh light of the computer. His hair was tied back into a ponytail, stray pieces tickling his cheeks every time he moved his head. 

“How’s the stream?” You made sure that your face isn’t visible to the webcam. Kenma didn’t want you to show your face to his fans just yet. You understood, flattered that he cared so much early on in your relationship. Even if it’s been 3 years since then, he still stood by his words. “Jus’ wanted to check in.”

He looks back at the screen, reading the chat as they greet you with ‘Lady Kodzuken’, a title that started off as a little joke. It’s the only thing they call you now, not knowing anything about you. “It’s good.”

He looks back at you, giving you a look over while his eyes are away from his nosy viewers. “You going to bed soon?”

You shrug and step into the room, softly closing the door behind you. Kenma’s hand hovers over this stream deck in case he needs to change the screen, but you walk to the side of his desk where the webcam can’t reach. Your hip leans against the desk, his eyes following your every move.

“You gonna come with me?” Your tone is a bit snarky, but mostly teasing. 

He looks back at the screen, the look on his face answering your question. You figured he wasn’t, but you’re still slightly annoyed. “There’s a few more levels, then I’ll join you.”

Nodding slowly, you peek around the screen to read the chat. They’re asking where you went and what you were doing.

You step into frame, and Kenma barely reacts in time to switch the screen, going to ask you what you were doing when you took his face in your hand. Your warm palm pressed gently into his cold cheek makes his eyelids falter just a bit as he relaxes. You soothe his cheekbone with your thumb, looking down at his golden eyes. He has a small look of confusion, brows upturned in question.

“Can I stay here with you?” Your soft voice has him nodding before you even finish your sentence. He doesn’t question you when your free hand goes to the drawstring of your pajama pants, undoing the tie and shimmying them down your legs. It’s only when you step out of them and reach for the waistband of his sweatpants that he snaps out of the trance you put him in.

“Wait–” your hands freeze at his hip bones. He has an internal battle with himself, debating on whether or not he should just end the stream and take you to bed like you wanted or let you sit on his lap with barely anything separating the two of you, but your thumbs delicately brush over his lower stomach.

He gulps and releases a shaky breath, reading the look in your eyes. You don’t plan on just sitting here with him. You’re planning something more.

He nods and you resume your actions, tugging the waistband down, and he lifts his hips for you to pull them off entirely. His hand rests on your hip as you settle on top of his lap, arms wrapping around his neck. He knows immediately that this was a mistake.

He can feel how warm you are, seeping through his bones and warming him from the outside-in. Your knees settle on either side of his hips, digging into the back of the gaming chair, and lean down to kiss his neck.

He feels you shift on his lap, seemingly accidental, but the purposeful roll of your hips down on him tells a different story. The seemingly innocent kisses and tender touches was just a ruse for you to fuck him.

“Babe, I’m streaming,” his voice strains when your fingers creep underneath the band of his boxers, peeling them down enough for his hardening cock to spring up. Your hand palms him, pressing the head against his sweater and leaving a small wet spot on the fabric. It’s embarrassing to him.

“I won’t be bothering you,” you spread the pre cum down his cock, taking your hand away to pull your underwear to the side, sitting against him and rolling your hips. He slips between your lips, knocking against your clit over and over, the stimulation enough to make you clench around nothing. When you raise on your knees and press his tip to your slit, his hands shoot up to the sides of your thighs in warning. 

Sliding down on him slowly, giving yourself enough time to stretch out around him without hurting yourself, Kenma’s already a panting mess beneath you. When the back of your thighs meet the top of his, a pitchy noise leaves his lips and his head falls back in an attempt to control himself.

“Go back to your stream, baby.”

His eyes dart to yours alarmingly, looking at you as if you were crazy. You expect him to continue on like he’s not buried to the hilt inside of you? How can he act like everything’s normal?

You lay your head back into the crook of his neck, taking in a deep breath of his hoodie, tightening your arms around him as you settle down. A slight shift of his hips has you clenching around him and his head feels like it’s going to roll off of his shoulders. But, he does as you say, unmuting himself with a quiet apology as he switches the screen. Now, he wishes he had set up that screen for when he’s not using his webcam.

The rest of his stream goes by agonizingly slow, periodic twitches of your cunt around his dick that makes him buck his hips involuntarily. You have an impressive talent of keeping yourself dead quiet at times, and he’s entirely grateful for that at this moment. The chat questions every time his face burns a darker red and his bottom lip is pulled between his teeth, but he brushes them off with some lame excuse. Either his chat is clueless or stupid, because it should be entirely obvious that he’s stuffed inside of you while you cockwarm him with no care in the world. 

His tip keeps nudging against your sweet spot, and after a torturous hour of small, faltering movements, your hips start to pick up in speed. Kenma slams his hand down on his stream deck, switching to some random idle inimation and muting his stream before his hands grip onto your hips, head falling back with a moan. He hasn’t gotten softer with little to no stimulation, only growing painfully more hard. He can feel how wet his boxers have become from how you’re dripping around him, and it’s overstimulating when you increase your speed even more.

“Oh, oh fuck, mmmhn, s’good,” he babbles on, mouthing near your temple, head foggy and determined to come. The slight praise sends a bolt of electricity between your legs, clit pressing harshly into his pelvic bone, stimulating a fire inside of you. It’s a sudden rush of want and need that forces Kenma to reach up to the back of your neck, dragging you away from his neck to slam his lips against yours in an effort to muffle the pathetic whines that pour from his lips. The warmth of his cum inside of you is enough to make you come, too, huffing out your own noises of pleasure as you ride it out on top of him.  

It feels like forever until the heat finally subsides and you lie limp on his lap, arms circled around his torso as you catch your breath. Kenma ends the stream quickly afterwards and plans to tweet out an apology or something, saying it was a technical difficulty, hoping to god that no one points out the obvious signs of his bliss with you. He knows that it’ll spread like wildfire if even a single person mentions it, but he’ll worry about that later.

“I didn’t like that,” his breathless voice speaks into the quiet air.

“Oh?” Your head lifts, slightly worried. Did you cross a line? 

He looks at your face, pupils dilated and face warm from the rush of blood throughout your body. “An hour was too long. We could’ve been in bed by now.”

Your worries are forgotten. You smile and lean closer to kiss him, cradling his face in your hands.

© aangelkeii - do not repost, translate, plagarize, or claim any of my works as your own.

taglist: @ggriwm @ppsucker3000 @cstandsforchaos @jakeyjakies @cphlo @dumbwaystolive

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Not A Verstappen: Gridlocked {4}

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: A single photo puts half of the truth out into the world. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, fingering, swearing WC: 2.3k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three || Four || Five

Round Nineteen - Mexico 2022 You woke to a delicious smell and felt the strains of the free practices deep in your bones and every muscle protested the movements needed to get out of bed. Giving up, you laid there for a minute more, mentally preparing for the final free practice and qualifying race, before tossing the blankets back. 

You probably looked like a zombie the way you stumbled your way bleary eyed through the hotel suite to find Charles cooking breakfast. 

“Good morning, baby.” Lando grabbed you by the hips and pulled you into his lap while he waited patiently at the table.

“Just morning,” you grumbled with a yawn. “Nothing is good before noon.”

“I can think of one thing,” he teased as his fingertips traced the curve of your leg.

“Feeling a little tender, chérie?” Charles asked with a kiss to your forehead as he placed two plates on the table. “We can give you a massage after breakfast. Bon appétit.”

“Okay, maybe there’s a few good things in the morning,” you conceded before opening your mouth for the forkful of food Lando offered. “Are we still on for dinner tonight?”

“Sorry, love, Zak’s invited me and Danny to a charity event,” Lando apologised with a pout. “I’m sure Charles can take care of you all on his lonesome.”

“Of course,” Charles said with a soft smile, “but I’d rather you be with us.”

You shifted on his lap to face him and kissed your way along his jaw to his lips. “Me too.”

“Me three,” he murmured when you pulled back to finish eating.

As promised, after breakfast you found yourself lying face down on the bed with massage oil drizzled over your skin. Heavenly moans filled the pillow your face was buried in as the two of them found every knot in your muscles and eased them away with their strong hands. 

“I hope you don’t make sounds like that for Kristian,” Lando teased. He had given up helping Charles working his way along your body and instead parted your legs to focus his touch on one particular place. 

“Can’t say he’s ever fingered me,” you said before laughing at the soft spank he responded with. “Yet.” Heat burned across your ass at the smack he dealt and your yelp turned to a moan as he soothed the sensitive skin with his palm before kissing it softly. 

“I think our Lando is a little possessive of you, chérie.”

You squirmed on the mattress as his fingers worked their way back into you to find your cunt soaked for him. “I like it.”

“I’m not possessive, I just don’t want to share with you anyone else.”

You lifted your head from the pillow and found Charles’ lips pressed lightly as he tried not to laugh but the amusement was thick in his voice, “That’s what possessive means, mon cher.”

You felt sorry for Charles as he was given a three-place grid penalty for something that wasn’t entirely his own fault. It was easy for the stewards to say he could have used his wing mirrors to see George coming up behind him on his flying lap but the window of view was so small that the stars had to align to actually see anything and react in time. 

His engineer should have warned him.

The urge to go to Ferrari and find him almost won but Max called out before you could leave the garage. “Do you have plans for dinner tonight?”

“Uh, yeah, I do,” you said as you scratched the nape of your neck nervously, something that didn’t go unnoticed.

“Is it a date?” You hated how intense his scrutiny was and his eyes narrowed the longer the question went unanswered. 

“Does it matter?”

“You’re dodging the question, zusje.” Max crossed his arms and looked over your shoulder. “Who is he?”

“Who’s who?” Your mood turned sour as you heard Jos’ voice behind you. “Are you coming to dinner?”

Max shook his head. “She’s going on a date.”

“And even if I wasn’t, I wouldn’t choose to spend my evening with you,” you said as you turned to face your father. 

“You have a boyfriend?” Jos asked with a tick in his jaw. “Why is this the first I’m hearing about it?”

“Let’s list off the reasons. 1) it’s none of your fucking business, 2) it’s none of your fucking business, 3) it’s none of your-”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Max growled as he dropped his arm over your shoulder and turned you away. “We’ll talk about this later, go calm down somewhere.”

You stormed out of the garage without a goodbye and straight into Ferrari’s next door, ignoring the looks they gave you as you climbed the stairs to where the driver’s rooms were. 

Carlos had just opened his door as you were passing it and he looked a little dishevelled and disappointed as he sighed to himself, and you could only imagine how much worse Charles was feeling. “Tough quali for you guys,” you said as you caught his attention and accepted the hug he offered. “How’s he doing?”

“Pissed off. Xavi is probably hiding in a hole somewhere by now. I would if I were him,” he huffed a humourless laugh. “It’s good that you're going out to dinner, I don’t think he would leave his room otherwise.”

“That’s what friends are for.” You gave Carlos a little wave as he went on his way before you knocked on Charles' door. “Hey, it’s me.”

The door opened before you had even finished speaking and you slipped inside quietly as you saw the sullen look on his face. Needing to comfort him, you caught the door with your shoe and kicked it shut so you could cup his face in your hands and pull him into a kiss. 

“I forgo-” You froze against Charles as the door swung open and Carlos filled the doorway, his jaw slack as he stared wide-eyed. “What the fuck, mate,” he hissed quietly as he stepped inside and closed the door shut. “You know Max is going to kill you, right?”

“I think that’s a bit of an exaggeration,” Charles muttered as he stepped back and took your hand instead. “What did you forget?”

“Huh? Shit, I forgot.” Carlos frowned and looked back at the door. “So…Just friends, ay?”

“Not just friends,” you chuckled, squeezing Charles’ hand. “But not ready to go public just yet.”

“Because of Max?”

“Because of Lando,” Charles admitted. 

“Ohhhh, because he’s been in love with her forever and you got the girl,” Carlos nodded to himself as he spoke only to stop when you laughed. 

“Because we are dating Lando too, and it will be a PR nightmare to explain.” You laughed as Carlos’ mouth dropped open and he pointed between the two of you. “Me, Charles and Lando, yes.”

“Woooow,” he laughed as he recovered and shook his head once more. “Max is 100% going to kill the both of you. Nice knowing you, mi amigo.”

“Thanks for your support, mate,” Charles drawled sarcastically and reached for his keys. “Let’s go, amour.”

“Can I just ask…” Carlos leaned back against the door so Charles couldn’t reach the handle. Crossing his arms, Charles rolled his eyes and waited impatiently for the question. “Does she top you like in the driver standings?”

“First Pierre, now you, putain de merde,” Charles sighed and pushed Carlos out of the way as he laughed. 

But then the laughter dried up and he turned to you offended at the news. “Pierre knew before me?”

“Since Suzuka,” Charles said with a smirk knowing it would irk him more.

Carlos reeled back and his eyes widened. “What the fuck, and that pendejo didn’t tell me. How long have you been together?”

“Just before Monza.”

“Before Mon…Monza! Ay!” Carlos dragged a hand down his face. “I thought we were friends, and Lando too? That guy has never kept a secret in his life.”

You looked at Charles with a giggle. “So dramatic, is he always like this?”

“Mhmm, try being teammates with him,” Charles replied with a roll of his eyes. “He just needs time to process, and I want to get out of this place before I cross paths with Xavi.”

“Kristian would have a coronary if he saw this. I’m so full but it’s too good to waste.” The Italian restaurant Charles had found in the centre of Mexico City was beautiful but the menu was definitely not suited to your pre-race diet. “Is this your plan to slow me down tomorrow?”

Charles stroked your hand beneath the table. He had managed to get the reservation for a secluded corner booth hidden behind a thin thatch privacy wall, but you still tried to remember to be careful. “Nothing can slow you down, amour.”

“Not even the metaphorical baggage I carry around?” 

“What?” Charles choked on a laugh and had to take a drink of water to stop coughing.

“Something Lando said a while ago.” You chuckled at the memory as you twirled more creamy fettuccine around your fork. “Apparently I have daddy issues, along with his temper.”

“You’re nothing like Jos.” Charles shook his head adamantly. “Back in karting my family would come and cheer me on and I remember when Max came anything less than first place, Jos wouldn’t even clap for him. He didn’t want anything to do with him unless he was on the top of the podiums.”

“I know what an asshole my father is, you don’t need to convince me,” you muttered quietly, feeling sorry for Max’s upbringing that was vastly different to yours.

“I’ve watched you cheer for Max from the pits when you’ve had to retire early. I’ve seen how concerned you get when he’s in a crash,” he said, bringing your attention back to the present. “You’re nothing like Jos.”

Unable to articulate how grateful you were to hear those words, you instead chose an action. Charles froze with surprise for a moment when you kissed him before instinct took over and his fingers curled around your nape to deepen it further. The white wine that had been paired with the pasta was warming your body but not as much as Charles’ hand was as it crept up beneath your dress.

A throat cleared beside the table and Charles pulled back with a sigh as a waiter stood awkwardly holding a dessert menu. 

“No, we’ll take the bill, thank you,” Charles said before the young man could offer the specials. 

“You seem to be in a rush to leave all of a sudden,” you teased in his ear as the waiter left with Charles’ credit card. 

You watched his teeth bite his bottom lip before his eyes trailed down your body. “I want dessert, amour, just nothing they can offer.”

The car ride back to the hotel was tantalisingly slow and it felt like the air conditioner was set on high with the heated looks shared between you. It wasn’t until your phone rang that you were able to tear your eyes away from him and you saw the name on the ID.

“Shh, it’s Max,” you warned before answering the call. “Hey bro, how’d dinner with the donor go?”

“When were you going to tell me you were dating Charles?”  The air in your lungs froze and you knew Charles had heard the exclamation by the tightening of his fists around the steering wheel.

You knew there would be alerts going off on Kristian’s phone as the Aura ring on your finger picked up the sudden spike in your heart rate. “Wh-what makes you think that?” 

“Because you said you were going on a date and now I’m seeing pictures of you and Charles kissing.” 

A tirade of curse words tumbled from your lips, colourful enough to make Charles blush as he indicated to pull into the hotel valet entrance. It wasn’t unusual for any of the drivers to spend time outside of racing together but now the crowd waiting seemed to have a new hunger. 

“Keep driving,” you urged as you saw the cameras flashing. “Go!”

“Pull Charles on the phone,” Max growled. “We need to have words.”

“Fuck off, you’re not my father so don’t act like it.”

“In that case, here.” 

“Don’t you even think about-” you heard the phone exchange hands and hit your head against the window when you heard Jos’ voice.

“What do you think you are playing at? Do you know how this reflects on the family?”

You ended the call and turned the phone off so neither of them could ring back. “The audacity of that man! I’m sorry, Cha, I fucked up.”

“Amour,” Charles said softly as he reached across and took your shaking hand. “It will be alright, we will figure it out together.”

“Shit, Lando!” You rushed to turn your phone back on and saw the missed calls from Max, Jos and even Vicky - which was a low blow since you would have answered your little sister’s call if you had seen it. “He’s not answering.”

“He is probably still at the charity dinner,” Charles reasoned as he stroked his thumb over your hand gently. “We can’t just drive around all night, we will have to go back to the hotel at some point.”

“I know…this just changes, well, everything.”

A smile tipped up Charles’ lips as he reached a stop light and looked across to you. “It doesn’t change one thing; I love you.”

Click here for part five.

[endless-weightless]

Ford Pines x GN!reader headcanons!

I'm surprised it took me this long to get into Gravity Falls. Anyways this has both SFW and NSFW so beware. There's also a brief mention of being AFAB as a possibility but other than that it's completely gender neutral (I'm 99% sure, I didn't proofread too well lol).

SFW

Right off the bat, I’m saying he’s autistic because so am I and I said so.

If you’re someone who needs reassurance or is generally anxious/paranoid about anything he’ll go into long (often scientific) explanations to ease your mind and also throw in some fun facts.

Both a listener and a yapper. He loves nothing more than the sound of your voice but also loves being able to spout all sorts of things about his research and interests while you stare at him lovingly.

Can’t sleep unless you’re next to him. You don’t even need to be cuddling, your presence is just the one thing he needs to fall asleep.

That being said, he will NEVER pass up an opportunity to cuddle. Watching a movie? Cuddling. Working at his desk in the lab? Cuddling on his lap. Cooking something in the kitchen? He’s got his arms wrapped around you as he presses loving kisses into your temple.

He rarely swears, but when he does it always makes you do a double-take (and maybe giggle because it sounds so odd coming from him).

Probably tried weed once or twice in the '70s and was somewhat part of the psychedelic rock scene. Stan has some old photos of him during that time somewhere but Ford is absolutely mortified by the idea of you seeing him in bell-bottom jeans.

It doesn’t matter how long you two have been together, every time he sees you he feels the same as he did the day you two met. Ford will never stop becoming flustered at the sight of you.

Post-Weirdmaggedon he became very anxious at the thought of you being out alone or not being near him. He feels like he needs to be on guard at all times so that he can protect you. He eventually calms down after some reassurance from you and a fuck ton of therapy.

While he lacks some emotional intelligence he’s actually very attentive and knows exactly what you need when you’re upfront about your feelings. As long as you’re not vague and communicate, he knows what to do to help you.

Adding onto that, I think he briefly studied psychology in college so he’d have a pretty good understanding of any mental health issues you might have.

Said “No more Mr Nice Guy” one time and hasn’t heard the end of it from anyone.

NSFW

Has to stop himself from cumming too quickly when you tell him how good he’s making you feel. Stroking his ego (and other things) is the best way to get him horny.

Will always ask you for consent no matter what it is. You could be mid-fuck and he’d still ask if he could put his hands on your hips.

This is just my personal headcanon but I believe while he didn’t really have too much experience before he got stuck on the other side of the portal (probably hooked up with Fiddleford once or twice tho), I fully believe that after a few years of dimension-hopping, he would’ve had a few one-night stands (mans gotta blow off some steam). So when he gets the chance to fuck you, a real human from his dimension, he’s more than ecstatic, especially since he’s picked up more than a few tricks over the past thirty years.

Knows how to use all twelve of his fingers.

Since Ford was sucked into the portal in the early ’80s and spent thirty years in there, he’s super confused when you mention shaving down there or being embarrassed about your body hair (if you do either) since the last time he was around everyone preferred going all natural.

This one’s less sexy but I’m putting it here anyways. He avoided taking off his shirt for ages since he didn’t want you to see all the scars he’d gotten over the years or any of the tattoos related to the things he did in the portal, especially the ones related to Bill. Surprisingly not as insecure about his “Flirty Gal” tramp stamp.

Doesn’t understand that he’s ridiculously hot. 

You jokingly said “Yes sir” one time and he got hard so quickly.

Although he does rather enjoy you taking the lead.

Loves experimenting with cock warming and edging. Literally. He’ll time the both of you and have everything written down somewhere and draw a graph with extra info like if you’re someone with a menstrual cycle and how that affects the results.

[deadhands69]

cursing each other over and over again [1/3]

MDNI

Super fluffy but eventually it gets smutty.

Toge Inumaki x cursed speech reader (not quite the same as his)

Warnings/content/etc: Toge Inumaki x reader, fem-bodied/gn pronouns, unestablished relationship, swearing.

AU: Jujutsu University, all characters aged up.

This is part 1 ; part 2 - part 3

Text key: 🖤 You 🤍 Toge

Since you can remember, your cursed energy was always hard to control. Sure, you could speak logically but the moment a hint of emotion leaves your lips, you feel the curses spilling out. Laugh, and everyone laughs with you. Mumble one angry comment and you take out half a city block. That’s how you ended up here, being placed in this class with a small handful of other jujutsu sorcerers in training.

First day of school; maybe you’ll make friends? It’s a very small class. Sinking into the only empty seat in the room, they all begin introducing themselves. Maki. Panda. Yuta. Everyone but the light haired boy seated next to you who waves and mumbles “kelp.” 

“Hi, I’m [y/n].” you say to everyone, before looking curiously at the interesting boy to your left.

His amethyst eyes lock onto the curse marks wrapping around your lips (**photo at the bottom.) You’re used to it. Everyone does that. Then, he slides his phone to you.

🤍 [you can use normal words???]

Looking back up, he partially unzips the front of his jacket to reveal marks of his own. They’re cute, you think, noticing how they line up with his dimples when he smiles. He’s cute.

You open your mouth to speak but feel the cursed energy ready to give you away. He’s too cute.

🖤 [well, not now]

🖤 [my cursed technique uses my emotions. so I CAN speak just not anything emotionally charged]

🤍 [why not now?]

Your fingers fumble to reply. What are you supposed to say, “hi random nice stranger I just met - I can’t talk to you because you’re hot?” No, that won’t work. And you don’t want him to think he offended you so you have to say something. Que the spiral.

Dias ex machina: Gojo, the eclectic teacher who brought you to this school, makes an abrupt entrance.

Phew. 

After class, the blonde boy slides his phone to you with a blank ‘add contact’ screen open. You try not to think too much into it - he’s in your class and it’s the easiest way for you both to talk. While you input your contact info, he rejoins the rest of the class joking about something. They’re laughing hard when you slide his phone back in front of him. As you’re walking out the door, he texts while catching up to you.

🤍 [hey!]

🤍 [it’s toge]

🤍 [so why can’t you use words now?]

Shit. Shit. Shit.

🖤 [just nervous, first day of class and stuff]

It might be in your head, but he looks slightly disappointed that he’s not the reason you’re nervous. He nods.

🤍 [oh, got ya. well, if you wanna hang out later let me know] 

You reply without thinking.

🖤 [yeah, i’d love that]

🤍 [come by my room at 8?]

🖤 [see you then!]

Fuck. What did you just get yourself into? Being around attractive people has never gone well for you. Of course you've had crushes, who hasn't. It’s fine, as friends for a little while but the moment you utter a single word without thinking, you feel your cursed energy fly out on accident and they never want to be around you again. You can’t blame them. Maybe spending time with him will be different? It’s not like he can speak freely either. He has to understand, right? Plus, he’s just being nice because you’re new so there’s really no pressure. On the other hand, with such a small class it would be really awkward to fuck up and alienate yourself from one of your classmates. Especially when they all seem so close. Maybe this time it'll be different, you hope.

Before you know it, six hours have passed and you’re nervously standing outside the door of Inumaki’s dorm room. You’re still not sure how you can talk to him but hopefully in a more chill setting, your nerves will calm down and it’ll be easier.

Knocking a few times, you hear “(((come in)))” and you find yourself opening the door and stepping inside. You laugh, it’s weird being on the other end of that. (plus, hearing his voice makes you giddy - so much for easy and chill feelings.)

Toge sits cross-legged on the floor in front of a Mario Kart loading screen. He’s not wearing the jacket from earlier so you have a clear view of his neck. And arms. He didn’t initially strike you as the type to workout a lot but he’s definitely athletic. As he shifts his weight turning to you, every muscle in his arm tenses. He’s like the skinny version of a Greek god with a perfect face to match, there's absolutely no way you can actually talk to him now. 

You opt to smile, wave, and sit next to him. 

He hands you a controller before texting: 

🤍 [still not talking to me?]

He smiles. Happy to see he’s not offended, you can keep it playful.

You send him the “why are you so obsessed with me” Mean Girls meme. Fortunately, he laughs and you’ve successfully dodged the question again.

Hours go by and neither of you have felt the need to use words, just glances and faces when the other throws a banana or passes you. It’s comforting. 

You notice the way he leans into you, every time he turns in the game. Skin brushing warmly against your own. After a while, you get used to the controls and he gets bolder - throwing an arm in front of your face, bumping you over, etc so he can pass you.

On the last lap, you use a booster and overtake him. He responds by throwing all of his weight into you, leaving you both a tangled laughing mess on the floor. Cursed energy seeps out in your laugh, but that’s fine. It’s harmless and isn't making him do more than laugh harder. Besides, he used his technique on you earlier too so you don’t think he minds something this mild. 

He does mind that you’re coming into the final stretch and still ahead of him though. Having dropped his controller in the commotion (that he created) earlier, he resorts to the first impulsive thought that comes to mind. “Hmmmm!” you manage to hold back, swallowing your words when his bite connects with your arm. Close one. Is he flirting or just that competitive? Probably competitive. Yet, he’s still laughing and throws his hands over your face in one last attempt.

Not bothering to sit back up, you keep your hands on the controller, pulling through the finish line to beat him for the first time all evening. His hands slide off your eyes and you both sit up, much closer than you were before. Watching the cute characters bounce on the screen, you’re amused: this has to be the most dangerous activity happening on all of campus. If either of you slip-up, there goes the neighborhood. You text him this.

🤍 [DEATH BY MARIO KART]

🤍 [nah you’re too cute to be mad at so i wont say anything. even if you cheated]

“(((Hey!)))” your sudden words are playful, but knock him back nonetheless. He smiles at you, still not caring. You extend a hand to pull him back up, mouthing ‘sorry.’

Then it hits you. 

He thinks you’re cute??

You re-read his message, to be sure you aren’t imagining anything. 

Yeah, he really said that.

So he was flirting? Or something like flirting?

🖤 [wait. is that why you asked me to hang out?]

To be fair, it’s part of why you wanted to hang out with him - but it would be nice to get clarification on his end. Wouldn't want to act like it was a date if he was just being nice and meant cute in some other way. Watching his hands type, you really hope the answer is yes.

“Salmon” he says out loud before the text shows up.

🤍 [you were staring at me blushing for half of class too so i thought we were on the same page?]

🤍 [plus, I had to ask]

🤍 [my friends were all taking bets on if you’d actually show up to my room]

They what? That last text hits like a ton of bricks and he sees it on your face.

So, he’s just hanging out with you to prove to his friends he could get you in his room? This is probably the joke everyone was laughing about before you left class today. First day and you’re already the joke. That’s disappointing, he seemed cute and nice. Now class will be awkward. You press up to leave. Seeing your face, he realizes how you took it.

“Caviar! Benito flakes!” he yells waving his hands before pressing your shoulder, urging you to sit back down. Confused, you stare at him before the onslaught of texts come in.

🤍 [no no no nononono not like that]

🤍 [i said you’re cute because you are cute]

🤍 [i asked you to hang out, because my friends said i’d be stupid not to]

🤍 [well Panda and Yuta did, Maki said you’re too hot for me]

🤍 [and i think Panda just wanted to watch me take an L]

🤍 [but Yuta thought i had a chance]

🤍 [so they all bet on it]

🤍 [and pushed me to ask you today]

🤍 [otherwise i probably would have debated it for a while]

🤍 [i still would have asked]

🤍 [just probably not today]

🤍 [but i really wanted to hang out with you]

🤍 [and Yuta thought i had a chance]

🤍 [besides, even if they were wrong and you didn’t think i was cute, it would be cool being friends]

🤍 [like with another cursed speech user]

🤍 [this shit sucks sometimes]

🤍 [i kinda figured you understood]

🤍 [it’s nice being around you]

He tears his eyes up from his phone to look into yours. He looks sad and desperate to be understood. You know that feeling well. 

There’s a bang on the door and you hear a woman’s voice “I never thought I would say this to you, but can you keep it down in there?? You’ve been banging around all night laughing now you’re yelling?”

“(((go to bed Maki)))” Toge yells at the door.

🤍 [fuck]

🤍 [she’s gonna kill me for that tomorrow]

🖤 [i think she’s just mad she lost the bet]

He smiles slightly, still looking concerned.

🤍 [are you okay?]

🤍 [i promise i actually like you]

🤍 [not just for the lolz]

🖤 [i think so]

🖤 [i had a lot of fun with you]

🖤 [it just sucks being the butt of the joke on the first day]

🤍 [oh]

🤍 [you’re not]

🤍 [me getting someone to like me was the joke]

🤍 [which is fair i guess]

🤍 [but it made me even more nervous]

🖤 [you were nervous?]

🤍 [you're pretty]

🤍 [and you can use more words than me]

🤍 [i thought so, at least]

🤍 [what am i supposed to say to you?]

🖤 [i get that]

🖤 [i was so nervous too]

🖤 [i have no game] 

🖤 [i can’t even talk to you]

🖤 [your friend was right tho]

🖤 [i do think you’re cute]

**not my photo, but here's what i think your curse marks look like:

part 2

m.list

[vampsired]

Hobbies JJK characters would have

cast ᯓ✦: gojo, geto, shoko, nanami, haibara, utahime

GOJO SATORU

1. eating/cooking - I feel like teen gojo mostly but older gojo would also find great joy in concocting heinous meals in the kitchen like his ‘ultimate sandwich’

2. wordle - doesn’t matter how good he claims to be, he has a meltdown and a half whenever he can’t get the answer in two tries. He’ll also gasp when he forgets to do his daily wordle and does it then and there.

3. map quizzing - he claims to be good, and with full confidence says the wrong answer. But will shove it in your face if he gets it right. He’ll go through a phase every couple of weeks trying to force anyone to vers him

GETO SUGURU

1. fixing/updating his motorcycle - he’d only be able to do this when he’s at his parents house bc it’s tedious work and needs a lot of time which he doesn’t rlly have when he’s at school.

2. music - I feel like teen geto would be swamped with school and missions most of the time to fully indulge himself into music, so when he gets more time I feel like he’d post

3. photography - defo the friend who takes pics of the sunset and sends it to you like you don’t have eyes yourself. But he’s a really good photographer, everyone ask him to take their photos when they’re out. He also has a bunch of digital cameras and loves going to photo booths

SHOKO IEIRI

1. amature barista - I think she missed good coffee when she’d go back home, so she took this up to satiate her coffee addiction. But then ended up having so much fun making it at home she got a full station when she got her own home.

2. swimming - she finds swimming relaxing, whether it’s the ocean, the pool or a lake. When she was young she had a lake near her house and she’d go swimming with her friends there all summer long, she hopes to take her friends one day.

3. collects mini toys - like mini purses and doll pieces, her fav is the mini hair dryer and straighter but she absolutely cherishes the ones utahime makes her <3

NANAMI KENTO

1. baking (duh) - although he doesn’t get into bread making until he’s older, I feel like teen nanami could make gooodd brownies and cookies that aren’t sickeningly sweet

2. reading (another obvi) - teen nanami would probably like those very long and complicated fantasy series and perhaps would like crime/thriller novels. But I feel maybe as nanami gets older he likes to read more literary fiction.

3. walks - I feel like he’d love to take the subway to a less crowded area and walk around with headphones in. He especially loves places with green landscapes or rivers

HAIBARA YU

1. comic and manga collector - loves seeing his collection grow over the years and loves sharing the stuff he has with his friends for them to enjoy also

2. legos - I feel like he has an impressive lego collection at his parents house but never dares to bring the larger ones to his dorm, he has smaller builds in his dorm which are still very impressive

3. board games - probably owns games you’ve never heard of, mostly plays with either you and nanami. But sometimes the group plays if they can get the rules down. But word of advice, don’t play monopoly with utahime or gojo 0.o

UTAHIME IORI

1. jewellery making - is the friend who has a lifetime amount of beads at her disposal. Loves making friendship bracelets for you and shoko, especially to mark like special events like holiday you guys go on or just for fun

2. painting - specifically flowers and landscapes, it reminds her of the place she grew up in and how her mother used to paint the summer flowers when she was growing up.

3. mini clay pieces - using air drying clay to make some little things like tiny mugs or tiny figurines like dinosaurs. When she made some little tortoises for shoko she screamed

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[starstruckmiraclekitty]

Feel free to ignore but what about sending Simon a spicy pic while he's at work, he's h*r ny all day then goes ham when he gets home to you 🫣

A/N: Ahhh, I love this!! Hope this does what you were looking for justice, still tryna get a feel for writing smut😭😅

Warnings: smut, p in v sex, oral (f receiving), swearing, cream pie, spanking

You're a Minx, You Know That?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You found yourself pacing Simon's home office, phone in hand, finger hovering over the ‘send’ button. You’d just taken a rather sultry picture a few moments ago and were debating on sending it to Simon.

You had lingerie that you had just bought from the store, and were too impatient to show him.

He was currently wrapping up on base and would be returning home to you in a few days, but you just couldn’t wait that long.You’d taken the picture, sitting on his home office chair. Your legs were spread apart, and one hand was set across your lower abdomen. 

Deciding to just go for it, you hit the send button, and waited anxiously for Simon’s reply. 

Simon’s phone pinged shortly after you sent it, and he looked down to see a photo message from you. He looked at Johnny and Gaz who were sitting next to him and made sure they weren’t looking, and opened your message. 

His eyes widened at the picture, his breath hitching in his throat as he immediately went to hide his phone in his pocket. He didn’t know what to expect from your message, but it certainly wasn’t that. 

“I’ll uh, I’ll be back.” Simon cleared his throat, and made his way to his quarters, ignoring the confused looks from his teammates.

He hurried to his room, and locked the door. Pulling his phone back out, he stared at your picture and felt himself growing hard.

From: Simon

Naughty girl, you are, what’s with the picture?

From Y/N

What, didn’t you like it? Got a new set, couldn’t wait to show it to you.

From: Simon

Oh, I liked it. Why don’t you send me another, yeah?

You bit your lip as you read Simon’s reply, and settled yourself in a more comfortable position in his chair. You moved your hand down into your panties, sliding your fingers across your folds.

Lifting the phone to get the perfect angle, you took another picture for Simon in this position, and sent it to him. 

Simon groaned as the new picture popped up on his screen, and he palmed himself lightly.

From: Y/N

You like, baby?

From: Simon

I fucking love it, just wait until I get home. Can't wait to see that in person.

Simon was about to send a picture of his own, when a knock came at his door.

“L.T. Price needs us for a few.” Johnny’s voice came from the other side of the door. 

Simon bit back a groan. This couldn’t have come at a worse time. “Be right there, Soap.”

From: Simon

Got to go love, I’ll see you in a few days. Better have that little outfit on for me when I get back ;)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few days passed, and it was finally time for Simon to come home. You couldn't have been more excited. The anticipation of what could ensue tonight had you feeling even livelier than usual. Simon had texted you not long ago that he would be home soon, so you'd put on the lingerie piece and waited patiently for him.

Simon was so glad to finally be home, the mission was long and tiring, and he just wanted to come home to you. He'd been horny as hell since seeing those photos of you, his hand just not doing enough to satiate his needs. As he walked in the door, he looked around to see you. Assuming you were just as horny as he was, he made his way to the bedroom.

He made his way into your shared room and found you lying on the bed, in the same lingerie from the photo.

You smiled at him and moved your hand that was resting on your side, down your body slowly.

“Fucking minx you are, you know that?” He asked, as he approached your side of the bed. 

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, I just wanted to show you some new lingerie I got.” You played innocent, moving your hand up and down your abdomen. “Hi baby. I missed you.”

Simon chuckled as his eyes raked up and down your figure. You looked absolutely divine. The lingerie had hugged you in all the right places, showing off your curves beautifully. “God you have no idea how much I have fucking missed you, sweetheart. I've been struggling for days because of those little photos you sent me.”

He leaned forward to kiss you, and you immediately pulled him closer by wrapping your arms around his neck. He ran his tongue along your lip before moving to your neck, sucking a small mark into your soft flesh.

"Wanted to surprise you. Know you've been working hard." You moaned, pushing your head back to give Simon better access to your neck. He nipped at the flesh again, using his tongue to caress the spot after.

"Nice surprise it was. Looks fucking divine on you." He mumbled as he kissed your shoulder blade. "'M gonna leave it on you while I fuck you senseless."

Simon flipped you over so you were on your stomach and pulled you up so your butt was in the air. He gave it a harsh smack, smoothing his hand over the forming red mark. He pulled back only to take his shirt off before returning his hands back to your backside, massaging gently.

Bending down slightly, he leaned in to give each cheek of your ass a kiss, before getting to his knees. “Fuck, I’ve missed this pussy.”

He pulled aside your panties and drove his tongue into your wet heat, flicking at your sensitive bud. You cried out into the pillow, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. Simon’s hands gripped tightly on your ass cheeks, as he pulled them apart to get better access to your cunt. He ran his tongue along your folds at an antagonizingly slow pace while simultaneously palming at your ass cheeks. 

You couldn’t help the soft moans that escaped your lips, as you continued to bury your head in your pillow. He slipped his tongue inside your entrance and began to circle it in a slow motion.

“Taste like fucking heaven, love.” He cooed into your pussy, moving to suck on your clit.

You felt yourself growing closer to your orgasm, the coil in your belly tightening and threatening to snap at any moment.  “Gonna cum, Si” You wailed in the pillow. He gave another long lick at your slit before returning to suck at your bud.

“Not yet, want you to cum on my cock, baby.” He pulled his mouth away from your clit, slowly, wiping the remaining juices off of his face with the back of his hand. You whined at the loss of contact.

He leaned forward to place a kiss on the small of your back before pulling you toward the edge of the bed.

You heard the sound of his belt buckle hitting the floor, then felt the tip of his cock rubbing at your folds. “God Si, fuck me already.”  

“Planning to love.” He said as he pushed himself inside you. The two of you moaned in unison at the feeling.”This pussy is always so tight.”

He pulled himself all the way out before ramming back into you. You squealed at the sensation, causing a wicked grin to form on Simon’s face. “Gonna fuck you good. Should be punishing you for sending pics like that."

Gripping your waist with a tightness that was sure to leave marks, Simon began pounding into you. You could only moan, as you desperately were gasping for air at his brutal pace.

“Dirty little girl aren’t you? What if the boys had seen that picture?” Simon’s hand came down to slap your ass hard. “Would you have liked that? My mates seeing you all dolled up in this lingerie?”

“N-No Simon, for y-your eyes only.” You struggled to get your words out, with Simon fucking you so hard you could barely think straight. “Only you.”

“Damn right my eyes only. You’re mine.” Another slap came down on your ass. “This pussy, this ass, everything. Mine.”

“All yours.” You chanted, turning your head to look at him.

He looked ethereal, covered in sweat, eyes concentrating on the sight of your pussy swallowing him whole which each thrust. He noticed your gaze, smirked, then picked up the speed of his thrusts. 

You couldn’t comprehend how someone could move as fast as he was, but you were hardly complaining. The noises that filled the room were obscene. The grunts from Simon, moans from you that were muffled from your pillow, and the sound of skin slapping against skin was all that could be heard.

“Look so good in this set, baby. Been wanting to fuck you in this since I saw it..” Simon breathed out, moving his eyes to rake along the backside of your body. “So fucking beautiful you are.”  

He started to pick up the pace even more, as his grunts started to get louder. His grip on your hips loosened as you felt yourself being pulled up against Simon's body.

He continued to jut himself into you as he moved his hand down your stomach, his fingers making their way to your clit, rubbing harshly.

"Simon!" You cried out, throwing your head back to land on his shoulder. "So good. Gonna cum."

"Cum with me yeah? Gonna cum in this pretty pussy."

Simon could feel you clench tightly around his cock, as you cried his name loudly, your orgasm tearing through you. He moaned at the feeling and felt himself nearing his own release.

His thrusts grew sloppy as he chased his high, and a tiny squeak from you set him over the edge. His cock pulsed inside you, painting your walls white with his cum.

He moaned loudly as his orgasm died down. "Fucking hell, never gets old."

You could only nod in response, still trying to catch your breath. He pulled out of you, laying you softly on the bed. He smiled to himself at the marks left on your body by him. Maybe he'd take a few more photos for himself next time he was on deployment.

"What do you say we take a shower, yeah?." He asked as he moved to scoop you back in his arms. "Gotta figure out how to get this bloody thing off you first, then it's round two."

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A/N: Again, I hope you enjoyed!! Still new to smut so apologies if it's not super great😅