#maybe one say we can make another out of our own content?

[hannieehaee]

I know your request are closed but I just wanna send this before I forget 😓 (sorry if you’re already being flooded with requests) but could you do Jun x actress!reader? Maybe a costars to lovers plot? They act in a romance drama and the on screen chemistry is perfect because they genuinely like each other in a romantic way.

THANK YOU SM I LOVE YOUR WORK!! ❤️

18+ / mdi

content: actor!jun, some small rivalry between jun and reader, smut, afab reader, semi-public sex, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 1710

a/n: thank you so much!!! i hope you enjoy what i came up with<33

masterlist

"are you here to practice lines again?", you asked as you opened your dressing room door to welcome jun into your private area yet again.

he gave you sheepish smile as he walked in and took a seat on the couch the two of you would usually lounge on in between shoots, "already annoyed of me?", he asked as he settled in.

you followed him, taking a seat next to him as you handed him a drink, "just rethinking how good your acting skills could be if you need to go over the lines so often," you responded in jest.

"oh, is that how it is?", he gaped at you, giving you that big smile he always reserved for you.

it had only been a few months since you'd met jun. after being cast as the leading couple in a long-awaited chinese drama, you quickly became good friends. you were already well known for your good chemistry with one another, leading the drama to a renewal halfway through the first season.

being jun's costar was the easiest thing you'd ever done. he was an easygoing guy (easy on the eyes too), and just overall extremely likable. you didn't want to get your hopes up, but you liked to believe that he found you just as likable, considering how often he sought you out.

jun had grown a tendency of stopping by your dressing room every day after filming with the excuse of going over lines for the following day. this usually meant staying on set a little later than anyone else, but you enjoyed the company too much to ever even think of complaining. the overtime was completely worth it if it meant spending a little extra alone time with wen junhui.

there was a slight huge chance that the romance you'd been portraying on screen had begun making its way onto real life. you didnt want to get your hopes up, but if jun's flirtatious demeanor was anything to go by, you were pretty sure the feeling was mutual.

there was truly no need for jun to stop by and go over his lines with you outside of official rehearsal hours — especially considering that he had been acting since infancy. you liked to believe that he simply liked the alone time with you and wanted to keep you to himself for as long as he could. you only hoped he would eventually ask you out for real, or else you'd have to take matters into your own hands.

"show me your acting skills, then, wen," you challenged, gesturing at him to get closer to you on the couch.

with a smirk, he scoot over, taking hold of the stacked up pile of papers on the coffee table in front of you which contained the script.

"what do you want to start with?," he asked, "the confession scene from the twelfth episode?", he began listing off scenes, "the big conflict on episode ten?", then his grin grew bigger, "or the sex scene for the season finale?"

"please," you scoffed, "no way you can start with the sex scene. you've never done any sex scenes before, wen. i have," you challenged.

it was true. despite his history as an actor, he had never engaged in any explicit roles before. this did not diminish him as an actor, nor did you actually believe he'd have any trouble getting the mood right for the scene, but riling him up was just far too enticing. it was also one of the only areas where you had more experience than him, having done roles that involved such scenes a few times already.

"what, you think i can't make a convincing sex scene?", he fake gasped, "people always say our chemistry's unmatched, and we both know why," he smirked by the end of his statement, chuckling at your scowl.

"oh? why's that?", you challenged him.

"i exude sex appeal," he claimed, "i'd be the best sex scene you'd ever shot," he leaned towards you with a challenging look in his eyes.

"show me," you dared him, "if you're that good, show me. no script."

he swallowed a scoff, both shocked at at the defiant look in your eyes and the very sudden change of atmosphere in the room.

"you're serious?" he almost gulped at the way you reclined against the couch, allowing the angle to show him the heavy breathing that had your chest going up and down, "you want me to-"

"i wanna see if you're all talk. we haven't had any steamy kiss scenes yet, so show me. give me a preview of the season finale."

those were the last words you needed to say before he began invading your space, pushing you slowly until you were laying on the couch while he hovered over you. he was slow yet intentional in his moves, wordless as he adjusted himself on top of you.

he was slow as he lowered his lips onto yours, eyeing them heavily before closing in on you. contrary to what you'd believed, he started at full force, not bothering to build up the kiss and instead giving you all of him immediately.

the original scene involved a very slow build up with a steamy finish, so you knew within seconds that jun had thrown away any intention to actually rehearse the scene but rather prove you wrong about your assertion about his lack of expertise in the area. however, you knew that it was far more than that. the kiss felt like more than just arguing against your assessment.

you mewled into his lips when his hands went to touch you, gripping onto your waist to pull you closer and adjusting himself so he could grind his hips into your own.

"i thought i couldn't do a sex scene? whats with all those noises? i've barely touched you," his breath was warm as he chuckled against you, moving onto your neck to lay kisses there.

"shut up. this is nothing. i could do this in my sleep," you challenged.

it didn't take long for him to begin undressing you, frustrated huffs accompanying his every move. you ended up in mere panties and a bra while he remained in his boxers. far too many illicit touches and kisses were shared in between to count.

"why am i naked, wen? i thought we were just rehearsing."

"im just making sure i get my point across," he lied through his teeth, hovering over you once more in order to get the upper hand again.

"god, you're so pretty. no wonder everyone wants you in their shows," he awe'd at you as he took off your bra, hands softly touching at the uncovered skin.

"or maybe because i'm a great actress."

"yeah, but you already know that," he smiled.

"i already know that," you affirmed with a similar smile before connecting your lips again.

any pretense for rehearsing left you after that point. both your hands itched to get the other closer, finally ending up with him lined up to your cunt and with your hands pulling at his boxers, lowering them just enough to pump at his hardness.

"baby ..."

"thought you were good at this, wen. thought you were gonna show me your skills," you teased.

"shut up. i'll, fuck, i'll show you."

his hands copied your movements, sneaking beneath your panties to tease at your arousal with his fingers. his actions elicited a similar reaction from you, moaning into his mouth as you both played with each other, so close to finally connecting in that carnal way you'd been aching but not close enough.

you worked him with your hand as he did the same to you, only stopping when he huffed what sounded like a painful breath and pleaded at you to stop. you were going to laugh at him once more, tease him for his weakness at your touch, but you needed to feel him now and decided to let it go.

grabbing onto his own cock, he began running up through your swollen lips, further lubricating them with his precum and groaning at the pulse he felt under his touch.

"hmph, f-fuck," he cried into your lips upon beginning to enter you, seeking silent permission to move.

a nod from you and he began pumping into you, groaning at every single move. the stretch made your eyes roll back, making you lose your mind little by little at every thrust.

"you're tighter than i imagined, shit," he groaned.

"o-oh? you imagined this?", you couldn't help stammering when he hammered into you as he did.

"shut up," was all he said before burying his face in the crook of your neck, nose breathing you in and lips pressing onto the skin.

your nails dragged down his back, careless despite knowing you'd both get scolded by your stylists for adding to their workload. it was fine, though, you thought. this was all in the name of working on your on-screen chemistry after all, right?

but it felt like way more. jun may have fucked into you with conviction, but the words of affection murmured into your skin gave a different story.

"beautiful, fuck."

"feel like a fucking dream ..."

"prettiest, tightest cunt ive ever had."

those were some of the many words kissed and bitten against your skin. it made you so dizzy you didn't even register when your orgasm began to approach.

his hand had at some point snuck between you, toying at your swollen clit as his thrusts became erratic. the end was near and he wanted to take you down with him.

"with me? cum with me, baby," he practically pleaded as his lips found yours again.

it was like this that you swallowed each other's moans, keeping your pleasure as a secret between the two of you.

even as he filled you up, he remained inside you. he managed to sit you up, allowing for the two of you to cuddle on the uncomfortably small couch in which he'd just defiled you.

"so, no sex-appeal, huh?"

"shut up, wen. i'd run laps with you on set."

"wanna bet?", his hands began feeling up at your body with a challenging glint in his eye.

and yes. yes, you did.

[goldenwitherphoenix13]

Throwing in my two pence here. This might get a little extensive and confusing, since I'm not great with words, so bear with me and trust me, ok?

First pence goes to this. Small thing on this being a non scripted series, yes, this is very true. None of the "curses" and stuff are planned, any references are usualy just thrown in for fun because the creators love watching us make our own stories and art, and Martyns lore is mostly his own AU that isn't connected to the main series.

But fandoms love making their own interpretations of stories, like Martyn does. It's why I have no problem with the "blessings and curses" of each participant. It's just the fan interpretations of funny coincidencs. The AUs we make. The fan content, artwork and stories, we make with the sturdy base of the life series. Jimmy and Martyn love reacting to fan made content, angsty or silly. They are loving it for the craft that it is! But they aren't canon, and never will be. Both sides know this. Scott's blessing won't always work, Grians widow curse won't always happen, and Jimmy's canary curse won't always play out quite the same as others expect it to do. Speaking of...

Time for that second penny. My interpretation of the Canary curse.

To me, the canary curse was NEVER about Jimmy being out first. It was NEVER about how he is bad at minecraft. It was NEVER about his permadeath being the the first one every time.

It was always about the chaos that came afterwards.

He wasn't cursed to die first, he was just the catalyst of disaster. When players would start to die left, right and center. It was a moment in every series where the red names would stack up and start to kill more and more, because now that a player had fallen, a sense of desperation falls across everyone. Dying first 4 times was just an unfortunate coincidence.

Jimmy is not awful at the game, he has some good skills. We can talk about that in a bit though.

The Canary in the coalmine might sometimes die to warn the coal miners of the poisons, but their silence without death speaks the exact same message.

Jimmy isn't cursed to die. Jimmy is blessed with a warning to everyone else that the end ic coming and discord wii be upon them soon.

And that warning is just his silence, through life and death.

He does not need to die for the Canary curse to come calling. Not to him. But to everyone.

Chucking in one extra penny, I would like to say that I very much think he can win. Genuinly, not having a laugh, not mocking it, and i'm not listening to anyone else. Session 3 gave me a scare, and i started doubting it, but i told myself (and Jimmy in chat) that i believe, and I was right to. Session 4 was amazing for him.

Jimmy is not bad at the game by any means. He can just be very unlucky. Events don't always line up for him so he ends up looking more incompetent than he is.

But when they do, well, just look at his 1v3 in dodgebolt and how he won the tournament for the crown in empires season 1, and remember how he spent the majority of Last life on YELLOW. And even episode 4 of wild life with how well he did in that session. I'm not saying he's the greatest minecraft player of all time because he does have his moments of lacking braincells like we all get, but he has got some skills. He just likes to mess about a bit to make things a little more entertaining for his viewers, he plays with his viewers in mind, but when he locks in, he very much locks in. And I love it.

I do still think he can win a life series. If not this one, maybe another one in the future. But I think he can do it. And if only one person in this universe believes that, then I am that one person.

Right, sorry if anything came off rude, im not the best at phrasing stuff so i might of misworded somethings here and there by accident. Again sorry if i did. I'm not here to change opinions, just to share my own. I'll leave now.

cries because everybody in this fandom sees the thought of Jimmy winning as a laughable impossibility and even people who say they're rooting for him only mean it as a joke and whenever you mention that he's doing good people have to let you know that it won't last long and inevitably he will die first because of some stupid self-fulfilling prophecy that got turned into my least favorite fanon ever. why can't he just be like a player who has a chance just like everyone else does. have you stopped to consider WHY he dies first so often? it's not a curse. this isn't a scripted series. it's because he's incredibly pacifistic and because people generally don't want to help him because they consider him a weak player. both of these things have been done away with this season, he has a taste for blood and an ally who is both incredibly underrated in his strength and has said he would never betray him. jimmy has as much a chance as anyone else.

[blobmanwhotries]

SEE, I TOLD YOU I CAN MAKE ART

information below bc trust me y'all probably confused lmao

The character in this drawing is Viktor, a character from the Five Nights at Freddy's Dating Simulator "Five Nights at Flirting." The game is more of the Rebornica style (using Vincent, Chris the Janitor, etc). I highly recommend the game, it's free!

That being said, spoiler warning for that game's content, in case you haven't seen it.

Key:

OG = Original

AU = Alternate Universe

RWQ = RWQFSFASXC, Shadow Bonnie's "Name"

FNaF = Five Nights at Freddy's

FNoF = Five Nights of Flirting

"The Crew" = Day/Nightshift Guards

Viktor is one of the protagonists in the game. Not much information is out there on him, other than him being the father of another more major character, Barbie, and him being dead. He was either a day/nightshift guard or he was the owner of the building, I can't remember.

In FNoF, agony and remnant isn't part of the game. Neither is the OG Afton family. A lot of canon FNAF things is not part of the FNoF universe. If it is, it isn't explicitly said - but in my and my friend's canon, we added a LOT of FNaF lore into it. Doing this gave us the opportunity to build upon the characters and really expand the universe.

In FNoF, I believe Viktor was killed in the Fazbear's establishment. This didn't change.

What did change was the motive and the method. Dave and Jack, the murderers of the children in our canon, killed Viktor by putting him in the spring bonnie suit. Think FNaF 3 Springtrap but on a different guy.

He, alongside the dead children, haunt the building as ghosts. One major thing:

He's not malicious during the nightshift.

(here on out are ideas, headcanons, fanon lore, etc)

Viktor actually just watches. Hangs around. He feels awful for the kids and that he can't do anything to stop their rage - so he usually lingers around the night guard in the office.

I like to think that he kind of has a role on causing the hallucinations in the night guards - more specifically Mike Schmidt (NOT Michael Afton).

Only after the first establishment (FNaF 1) closes down and the crew moves to the next establishment (FNaF 2) can Mike able to see Viktor's ghost properly. He's the first one of the crew to meet him after his death, with the exception of maybe Vincent (who in our original canon, did NOT kill the kids).

Hopefully that makes sense? I might go back and edit this when I'm more coherent but this is what you're getting for now lmao

With that out of the way, let's get into the shadow bonnie thing.

Let's start off with the fact that in the beginning of this, I just wanted to spice things up. I blurted out the idea of Viktor being RWQ to my friend and have been building off of that since.

1) RWQ is never outright malicious. Not in canon games, at least. In FNaF 2, the worst he would do is crash your game. Otherwise he just existed in the office.

Viktor, like RWQ, is not outright malicious. He just watches the security guard in the office. Hoping that they'll make it through the night in peace.

I considered the original "game crash" as maybe the guard passing out from sudden shock - which leads to,

2) In our canon, Viktor slowly becomes a being of agony over time. This is going to be hard to explain.

To sum it up, agony in our canon is the lingering emotions after a major event - emotions that cannot leave and can build up over time.

I think we can agree murder would stir up some very strong emotions from the victims, right?

This explains why the children are so vengeful - because of the agony from their emotions. And, of course, the fact that they're children and aren't able to regulate such powerful emotions, taking it out on any night guard. Blinded by rage, you could say.

Viktor isn't vengeful in comparison only because he can regulate his own emotions better. He knows that the night guards aren't the ones who killed him. He knows who did, but he's trapped at the building since he died there. And because the agony of the dead children latched onto him, making him unable to leave on his own.

Over time, the agony grows more and more potent. Even if he's still passive, the first form you see of him will not be human - it will be the silhouette of what he died in. What he was killed in. A forever reminder of what happened.

I've considered the "fainting" thing because I'd imagine looking to the side and suddenly seeing "bad vibes" personified is going to give someone quite a shock.

3) When coming up with this idea, I didn't make the connection of Viktor being RWQ and the FNaF 3 mini game until way later. When I did, I must say, I pat myself on the back for finding another way to validate and explain my idea. One of the theories for that mini game was that Shadow Bonnie was an employee who got springlocked, probably forcibly. You know who else got springlocked forcibly?

Viktor.

Viktor's death is a HUGE deal in our canon. Who killed him, whether he lives or not, the method - we've considered a lot of outcomes. The most common thing of all of them is the fact that Viktor always plays a role in being a reminder of what happened at Freddy's.

Even after FNaF 3 events, he still remains - only now he's attached to Vincent (who may or may not have killed the children depending on the AU).

My friend and I are super proud of this interpretation of FNoF. We've put a lot of thought into it - and we're nowhere near done with it. A lot is subject to change. But for now we're satisfied.

Sorry for such a long ramble. I'm sure this is barely comprehendible. Feel free to comment or send in questions on anything you want to know more about; other characters, more background information - don't be shy, I don't bite :)

[bisexualbaker]

Why do people keep recommending Dreamwidth as a Tumblr alternative, when Dreamwidth and Tumblr are so different?

To be flat-out honest, it's because Dreamwidth has so many things that Tumblr users say they want, even if it's also lacking a lot of features that Tumblr users have come to love:

Dreamwidth has incredibly lax content hosting rules. I'd say that it's slightly more restrictive than AO3, but only just slightly, and only because AO3's abuse team has been so overwhelmed and over-worked. Otherwise, the hosting policies are pretty similar. You want to go nuts, show nuts? You can do that on Dreamwidth.

In fact, Dreamwidth is so serious about "go nuts, show nuts", it gave up the ability to accept transactions through PayPal in 2009 to protect our ability to do that. (It's also one reason why Dreamwidth doesn't have an app: Dreamwidth will never be beholden to Apple's content rules this way.)

Dreamwidth cares about your privacy; it doesn't sell your data, and barely collects any to begin with. As far as I'm aware, it only collects what it needs to run the site. The owners have also spoken out on behalf of internet privacy many times, and are prepared to put their money where their mouth is.

No ads. Ever. Period. They mean it. Dreamwidth is entirely user funded.

Posts viewed in reverse chronological order; no algorithm, opt-in or otherwise. No algorithm at all. No "For You" or "Suggested" page. You still entirely create and curate your own experience.

The ability to make posts that only your "mutuals", or even only a specific subset of your "mutuals", can see. Want to make a post that's only open to Bonnie, Clyde, Butch, and Cassidy? You can do that! Want to make a post that's only open to Bonnie and Butch, but Clyde and Cassidy can't see shit? You can do that, too!

The owners have forsworn NFTs and the blockchain in general. Not as big a worry now as it was even a year ago, but still good to know!

We are explicitly the customers of Dreamwidth. Dreamwidth wants to make us happy, so any changes they make (and they do make changes) are made with us in mind, and after exploring as many possibilities as they can.

Dreamwidth is very transparent about their policies and changes. If you want to know why they're making a specific change, or keeping or getting rid of a feature, they will tell you. You don't have to find out ten months later that they're locked into a contract to keep it for a year (cough cough Tumblr Live cough cough).

So those are some things that Tumblr users would probably love about Dreamwidth.

Another reason Dreamwidth keeps being recommended is that a significant portion of the Age 30+ crowd spent a lot of earlier fandom years on a site known as LiveJournal. Dreamwidth may not be much like Tumblr, but it it started out as a code fork of LiveJournal, so it will be very familiar to anyone who spent any time there. Except better.

Finally, we're recommending Dreamwidth because some of the things that Tumblr users want are just... not going to happen on the web as it is now. Image hosting is the big one for this. Maybe in the future, the price of data will be much cheaper, and Dreamwidth will be able to host as much as we all want for a pittance that a fraction of the userbase will happily pay for everyone, but right now that's just not possible.

Everywhere you want to go that hosts a lot of images will either be running lots of ads, selling your data, or both.

Dreamwidth knows how much it costs to host your data, and has budgeted for that. They are hosting within their means, within our means.

Dreamwidth is the closest thing we may ever get to AO3 as a social media platform. One of the co-owners is from, and still in, fandom; she knows our values, because they are also her values. It may as well be the Blogsite Of Our Own.

[5sospenguinqueen]

Needle Little Love - Charles Leclerc x Ferrari! Reader

Summary: When you’re announced as Ferrari’s newest driver, fans love the budding friendship between you and Charles, especially when he adopts your penchant for crochet puns. Netflix expose that there’s more to the story. 

Warnings: Slightly suggestive content. Swearing. Fluff

2023-2024 timeline. Pinterest pics.

Requested: Yes by @rebelwrites. Find the full request here

A/N: There's a blurb halfway down

F1 Masterlist

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its_ynln just posted

liked by charles_leclerc, olliebearman and others 

its_ynln chronicles of yarnia 🧶

1,609 comments 

francisca.cgomes okay but i’m gonna need that top in all colours please

→ its_ynln let me get your measurements at zandvoort 

user1 what is charles doing here

→ its_ynln i’m plagued by his brother and we both like to go zoom?

→ arthur_leclerc just for that, i’m not coming to your celebration party in zandvoort. i’ll go party with charles

→ its_ynln don’t want you there anyway 

→ oscarpiastri @/charles_leclerc the girls are fighting again 

→ user2 i love how they’re just assuming she’ll win 

lilymhe i love my pillow! thank you thank you thank you 🌼

→ alex_albon she literally carries it everywhere and i’m not allowed to touch it 

user3 we love how racing is just her side hobby 

jackdoohan day 116 of asking you to make me my own dinosaur 

→ its_ynln i can make a voodoo doll of you if you don’t stop pestering me

→ jackdoohan i’ll be glad when you’re gone

→ user4 gone where! 

→ user5 well she is currently leading the f2 championship, and they won't let her back 

user6 drop the patterns please, babe

user7 i love how half the people here are because of her crochet, not because she drives

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f1 just posted

liked by ferraridriveracademy, oscarpiastri and others 

f1 welcome to the team @/its_ynln we look forward to seeing you on the grid in the new year 

5,533 comments

its_ynln what can i say, it’s knot just another hobby

→ user8 babe, stick to crochet. stand up comedy is not for you 

ferraridriveracademy take good care of our girl 

→ scuderiaferrari thanks for letting us have her

charles_leclerc welcome to the team 😄

→ user9 why is this the blandest welcome ever 

→ user10 someone feels threatened

→ arthur_leclerc *trying to contain his excitement

francisca.cgomes this is the best news ever. will you teach me to crochet?

→ pierregasly because stealing my girlfriend over summer break wasn’t bad enough?

→ its_ynln are you still salty that she let me touch her boobs

→ user11 i know it was to measure her chest for clothes but still.. 

scuderiaferrari are we going to have to pr train you? @/its_ynln

→ liamlawson30 yes

→ alex_albon yes 

→ jackdoohan yes

→ its_ynln why am i being attacked by twice the amount of people now? 

arthur_leclerc thank god she’s not my problem anymore 

→ its_ynln i’ll always be your problem, little leclerc 

→ oscarpiastri oh fuck, she’s my problem now

charles_leclerc just posted

liked by maxverstappen1, pierregasly and others  

charles_leclerc winter break spent somewhere sunny  

2,316 comments

scuderiaferrari come back, we miss you 

user1 um, whose hand is he reaching for in that first pic 

→ user2 idk but we should be saying thank you for dressing him in that shirt 

its_ynln is your skin ferrari red yet 

→ charles_leclerc no, i keep getting slathered in sun cream :(

→ arthur_leclerc factor 50? 

→ user3 i love that she’s bullying him before she’s even been his teammate on track

user4 this shirt looks similar to one yn posted a few weeks ago??

→ user5 and the hat!!

→ user6 omg how cute would it be if charles was asking her to crochet him some clothes 

→ user7 we love a supportive teammate

landonorris rocking the bucket hat, mate. think i can get one in papaya? 

→ charles_leclerc i’ll hook you up

oscarpiastri i miss you, dad

→ its_ynln i’m not babysitting next year. just putting that out there ahead of time 

→ charles_leclerc not even if i ask nicely?

→ its_ynln maybe if you let me win

→ charles_leclerc 🤔🤨

user8 why are we skipping past the sneaky soft launch?

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2024

“You know, we both have driver’s rooms for this sort of thing,” you breathed, giggling when Charles’ facial hair tickled your neck. 

His mouth sucked gently on the pulse point thrumming beneath his tongue, tracing kisses from your ear down to your collarbone. The stack of worn tyres cushioned your back as he pressed your harder against them when you reached around to pinch his backside. 

“Oi, I’m talking to you.” 

“I’m sorry, mon ange, but you looked so good when you were giving that interview. And you kept laughing-”

“Oh, so it’s not that I’m so irresistible that you couldn't wait until we were safely in the garage. It’s that you were jealous.” You raised an eyebrow at him, unable to fight the smile at his rougish grin. 

“You are irresistible,” he murmured, hands snaking around your waist to pull you flush against him. “Why else would I be making out with you in an alley behind the motorhome?”

“Because you’re a horndog.” 

You and Charles had been dating for the past year, having met after he caught you winding up his younger brother one race weekend. Ferrari had been eyeing you up all year, asking the Monagesque what he thought of you, prompting him to pay closer attention. Prior to you signing your contract, you’d had to disclose your relationship to Fred Vasseur. Whilst the senior members of the team were aware of your more-than-teammates status, the majority of the paddock were in the dark. Both of you wished to keep the relationship under wraps until your rookie year in F1 had passed, reducing speculation that Charles was the only reason you got your seat. Sneaking around the motorhome was a lot safer than making out behind tyre stacks, but Charles didn’t care at this moment in time. 

“You going to be nice and let me win today?” He teased, nibbling at your lower lip. 

“I think you mean, am I going to let you massage my feet after I win? I won here last year.”

“Yes, yes, bow down to you.”

“Well, I do like you on your knees.” 

Grinning, Charles captured your lips with his once more. Tongue swiping against your bottom lip, he groaned against you when your tongue met his. Hands snaking into his hair, you tugged gently on the soft strands, enjoying the whimper you pulled from his lips. He tilted his hips, pressing himself against you. 

“The things you do to me.”

A loud cough - more of a throat clearing - tore the two of you apart. Wide eyed and panting, you both turned in horror to look at the misfortune person who stumbled across you. Fred Vasseur stood at the end of the alleyway, shaking his head at his two drivers. It was bad enough watching them make heart eyes at each other during data reviews but this. Behind him stood a cameraman and a mic guy, mouths agape at their luck. Drive to Survive would be flooded with viewers once they teased this. Breaking News: Ferrari drivers caught locking lips in secret tryst. 

“I’ve got Netflix following me around today.” Fred said bluntly, staring you both down. 

“Oh crap.”

“Yeah.” 

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next day

charles_leclerc just posted

liked by its_ynln, arthur_leclerc and others

charles_leclerc you could say we’re a close knit bunch

4,416 comments

its_ynln i fell for you hook, yarn and stitcher 

user8 not charles adopting her crochet puns 

jackdoohan so he gets a toothless keychain and i still don’t get my dinosaur? 

→ liamlawson30 that’s because he’s sleeping with her

→ jackdoohan if that’s the price...

scuderiaferrari finally. we were getting sick and tired of archiving all the pics we took of you both being cute. now we can post! 

→ arthur_leclerc please don’t. it’s bad enough seeing it in person for the past two years. i don’t want it on my timeline

→ user9 two years! they’ve been together two years! 

alex_albon can’t believe you posted a photo of her in a nice dress and didn't even give her photo creds

→ its_ynln he’s intimidated by my raw talent 

→ oscarpiastri i watched you flip over the handles of your bike the other day 

→ its_ynln raw talent

→ charlesleclerc @/its_ynln when was this? why didn’t you tell me? are you okay? 

georgrussell63 did she beat you?

→ charles_leclerc i let her win

→ landonorris yeah, you’ve been saying that all season, mate

→ its_ynln you got a nice consolation price out of it tho

→ arthur_leclerc ew!

user10 i love that charles has posted this and yn hasn’t mentioned anything about him lol 

→ user11 her entire insta is the two sides of her personality; car and yarn. can't have a man ruining the aesthetic

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A huge thank you to @rebelwrites for the request. I hope this lives up to expectations

Requests for F1 smau's are open. You can see who I write for on my Masterlist :)

[tinylittlebab]

bleh everything SUCKS

[kamiversee]

Sharing Is Caring ꨄ (part 1/3)

[ { Synopsis } ] ➤ Sure, your boyfriend Choso gets jealous from time to time but that doesn’t mean you have the right to put him on sex-ban. Hence why he’ll show you he actually has no issues with sharing you (with a certain person).

[ { Need to know } ] ➤This is a What-If scenario that stems from my fic; The F*ck List— A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt.

[ { Content & Warning } ] ➤ f!reader, lots of teasing and taunting, language, heavy sexual tension, buildup to a threesome, & two guys who are completely infatuated with you ^.^

[ { Parings } ] ➤ Choso x f!reader & Gojo x f!reader.

[ { Word Count } ] ➤ 6.7k

“Oh my god Choso, shut up,” You whined, brows tense and eyes narrowed at your boyfriend who you’ve been arguing with for the past twenty minutes.

Choso scoffs, “Excuse me?” He tests, trying to see if he really heard what you just said to him, “Wanna repeat that f’me?”

With an annoyed roll of your eyes, “I said shut up. You just got home and you’re already starting up with this shit again. Choso, I’m not taking you off of sex-ban.”

Dating Choso is… an experience, to say the least. Sure, he’s a wonderful boyfriend and overall the perfect man for you but, that doesn’t mean you two don’t have your arguments or periods of being upset with one another.

Again, he’s amazing and all but there are times like now where you and him really get into it. He’s stressed out and you’re frustrated— both of which don’t make the best combination.

You’re standing by his living room couch watching him tug off his jacket. Choso’s face is ticked off but he won’t stop looking at you. As for you, your eyes are everywhere else except for his.

“Baby, it’s been three weeks. Three,” He emphasizes, “I can go without sex perfectly fine but you barely even touch me now.”

“Well this is what you get for being an overly jealous boyfriend,” You say with a scoff.

Choso cocks his head to the side and his eyes narrow, “What was I supposed to do that day, huh? Just sit there and watch some guy openly flirt with you like I’m not standing right next to you?”

“You’re being dramatic,” You tell him bluntly, arms crossing over one another, “I told you numerous times before, that if you kept up the jealous act I’d put you on sex-ban, and now; here we are and you’re complaining about it.”

“It’s not the sex-ban, baby. Did you even hear what I just said?” Choso asks. He then takes a single step closer to where you are, “You don’t touch me, hug me, or even kiss me as much anymore and it’s been three weeks.”

A nonchalant little shrug is given to him, “Maybe if you didn’t scold your girlfriend for someone else’s actions, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now-“

“I already apologized for that so I don’t understand why I’m not receiving any sort of affection from you,” Choso cuts off. As he nears you, his hand goes down to his belt and he starts to unbuckle it, clearly unwinding after his long day of work.

Your eyes just barely glance over to him and down at his hands fumbling with his belt. Then, you scan your boyfriend up and down and mentally curse yourself for being upset with him right now because fuck is he too attractive for his own good.

You swallow thickly and lift your gaze to his face, only to meet his eyes already on yours. For a moment, you maintain eye contact but then, you glance off to the side again, “Because all sorts of affection always lead to something more and I banned you from sex for a reason,” You explain with a sigh.

“Yeah well, how long do I have to go through this hell, huh?” He asks, tone stern and aggravated with you.

“Hell?” You scoff, “Choso you know there are other things to our relationship outside of sex-“

“Clearly you’re not hearin’ me,” He cuts off yet again, shaking his head at you as he tugs his belt off and walks even closer to you.

Unconsciously, you take a step back and Choso kisses his teeth as you do so before he tosses his belt on the couch along with the jacket he recently took off.

With a long sigh, Choso brings a hand up to his face and wipes it, as if that’ll help him focus his thoughts. Then, he voices out your name and you tense up a little, “It’s not about the sex,” He says yet again, slowly turning his head to you, “You don’t touch me anymore. Do you know how depriving that is?”

You shrug again, “It’s not the first time you’ve gone without my touch Choso, get over it-“

“Baby you practically live with me now,” He interrupts, “I wake up in the same bed as you almost every morning and when I try to hug you, you’re pulling away from me.”

“Again, every touch leads to something else,” You repeat, frustrated with your boyfriend and how he’s making such a big deal out of this.

Choso’s eyes narrow and a vein pops out in his forehead, “Do you think I lack that much self-control? If you put me on sex-ban then you put me on sex-ban. I have enough restraint to respect that, princess.”

You release a huff, “Okay, well-“

“Well what?” He cuts off impatiently.

Your face twists up, “Well if you’d let me—,” You blink and notice how close he’s gotten to you, your head angling up just a bit to make eye contact with him as he stands hardly an inch away from you. God, he smells good, “F-Finish…” You gulp, “I-I’m not an idiot Choso, you and I both know that self-control or no, when you’re pent up, you get more needy and I always let you have your way.”

“Are you listening to anything I’m saying to you?” Choso asks, head tipping to the side for a moment before he’s leaning down to you, “No seriously, are you rendering the words coming out of my mouth, love?” He asks almost in a way that makes you feel small.

A scowl washes over your expression as your eyes meet his once more, “Yes I’m rendering the words coming out of your mouth, Choso. Are you comprehending anything I’m saying to you?”

“I am.” He hums.

“Okay then why are we still having this conversation?” You ask in a dull tone, voice a bit softer now that he’s all close to you.

Choso cracks a little smirk but he still sounds annoyed, “Because you haven’t laid a finger on me in five days.”

“Choso-“

“That’s a hundred and twenty hours without a single touch from you,” He explains, eyes boring into yours.

Your brows raise and you snicker, “You can’t be serious-“

“It’s been seven days since I last felt your arms around me,” He continues, his body inching closer to your own.

You don’t move away this time and simply keep your eyes directly on his, “Why are you keeping track?”

“Sixteen days since you last kissed me,” Choso recalls, his voice getting lower.

“Oh come on-“

His hand is suddenly placed on your waist and he tugs your body up against his, “And three weeks since we’ve had sex.”

Your breath hitches a bit as your chest clashes with his and you keep your arms and hands everywhere except on him, pretty much proving all the points he just made.

Were you really trying not to touch Choso for the past three weeks? Yes. Is that because you’re worried about him getting carried away? No, you’re worried about you getting carried away. You know Choso has self-control but, it’s you who lacks it sometimes.

Swallowing hard, “Choso…” You murmur carefully.

“Baby I’m starved,” He nearly groans out, both his arms wrapping around your waist while his face inclines toward your own, “I need something from you-, anything.”

You bite down on your lower lip and stare at your boyfriend’s face. He’s so close to you, so desperate for you— it was cute how needy he was.

Purposefully, you lean closer to him and his eyes sink to your lips immediately as they nearly press into his own. Then, you stop a hair away from him, teasing him-, torturing him, “Not until you fix your jealousy issue,” You whisper to the man.

Oh Choso’s losing his mind right now. The urge he has to just press his lips into your plush ones is simply killing him. The arms around your waist tighten and his eyes are pleading with you.

“Baby please?” Choso begs, voice laced with the faintest whine.

You nearly folded at the sound of his begging. Hell, your eyelids began to lower and you wanted to kiss him just as badly as he wanted a kiss from you. You know just one won’t hurt but the fact that it’s been three weeks worries you.

He’s not the only one all pent up and starved, nor does he have any idea how horny you’ve been the past few weeks.

There was a day he came home from the gym and you watched him snatch his sweaty shirt off his body. You swore you were drooling for your boyfriend at the time because he’d been working out excessively just for you.

That was the last day you ended up kissing Choso because as soon as he went and showered, you were all over him. It was hard to control yourself when he smelled so good and his hair was all loose and damp with water— soft groans leaving his throat every time you pressed your lips to his jaw.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t considering eating him up that day. But, you managed to get ahold of yourself at the time and just barely pried your body away from his.

As of right now on the other hand… Your hands are carefully lifting to his arms, gently feeling his muscles through his clothes as your faces remain close to one another.

You wanted to kiss him so badly. It won’t hurt, right?

Slowly, your arms lift up even more and soon wrap around his neck— to which Choso’s breathing picks up and his heart rate increases. The smallest touches from you were already driving him crazy and his hands began to explore your back a little.

“Just one,” You whisper to the man, “One kiss, okay?”

Choso’s nodding eagerly, “Okay.”

The two of you are leaning in, anticipation bubbling in the pits of both of your stomachs as your lips gaze his and he gets the faintest touch of your skin— only to be interrupted by the sudden buzzing of your phone in your pocket.

You pull away and glance down and Choso swears his eye twitches. He was so close, he almost felt your lips again, your pretty soft and heaven-sent lips almost touched his, and yet someone had the nerve to interrupt.

Choso groans and you try to reach in your pocket for your phone but he suddenly smacks your hand away and reaches in your pocket himself.

You frown, “Choso-“

“Who’s callin’ us?” He cuts off. He sounds more pissed off than he was earlier.

The second his eyes lay on the contact written across your screen, he scoffs. The timing couldn’t have been better.

You move to try and see what he’s looking at but Choso shifts his hand on you and pushes your body away.

“Choso what the hell? Who’s calling-“

“You said I’ve been too jealous of a boyfriend, right?” Choso interrupts, his lips curving into a faint smirk before he lifts his gaze to you.

You nod slowly and wearily, “Y-Yeah, but what does that have to do with whoever’s calling m-“

“I’ll answer it for you, baby,” Choso says sweetly before flashing you a smile.

Your brows pinch together and you blink, “Who is it-“

He ignores your question and lifts the phone to his ear, “Hello?”

Someone speaks back to him but you’ve got no idea who.

“Ohhh, you called on accident? Yeah, no, I get that, happens to the best of us,” Choso hums with a shrug.

He seems all too calm and casual about this so you’re mentally trying to figure out who the hell could’ve called you to where your boyfriend is talking so calmly.

You just stand and watch in confusion for a minute as he continues his conversation.

“Yeah, that’s me,” Choso chuckles a bit but there’s a slight vein peeping against his jawline, “Nah man you’re fine. Actually, since I’ve got you on the phone, can I ask you somethin’?”

Your eyes widen and your heart is beating all over the damn place. Slowly, you try to get closer to your boyfriend, “Choso, who-“

He cuts you off by placing a single finger to your lips, quite literally shushing you. You’re taken back by his action and ticked off by his rude gesture.

“You used to fuck my girlfriend, right?” The man questions bluntly. Your entire face gets hot and you’re not sure if that’s because you’re pissed off or because you’re flustered.

Who the hell could he be talking to? Suguru? No, Choso doesn’t get along with him that well… Who else has your number that you’ve-

Gojo.

Your eyes go wide and you move to reach for your phone and snatch it from Choso’s hand but he swiftly and smoothly evades your attempt, mockingly scoffing at you.

“Choso what the hell is wrong with you? Give me my phone-“

Your boyfriend smiles at you. He finds entertainment in how ticked off you are and it only makes you angrier. Especially when he shakes his head no and moves away from you.

Then he has the nerve to laugh, “Yes, I do know the answer to that already. But my question still stands and I’d like to hear it from you since I have you on the phone,” Choso speaks.

You’re still following him around and trying to get your phone from him but he just moves and weaves all of your reaches.

“Yeahh see? There’s the confidence I was lookin’ for,” He says to the male over the phone, “So…” Choso makes eye contact with you and your heart sinks as his words come out, “Wanna do it again?”

The man on the call chokes on air so loudly that even you hear it despite not being near the phone. Then you hear a nervous chuckle, one that’s all too familiar to you.

You fold your arms at your boyfriend, who simply winks at you. “Choso, what are you-“

“Shut up,” He says to you sternly, “You said I’m too jealous of a boyfriend so now I’m trying to change that.”

“By being a fuckin’ asshole?” You spit out to him, both confused and annoyed by everything right now.

“No,” Choso negates, smiling sweetly at you again, “By calling someone over to please my pretty lil’ girlfriend since she won’t let me do it.”

You blink, “What? Choso-“

“Huh? What was that?” He interrupts, his attention back on the phone call, “Yes I was being serious. I-, oh…” His expression dips a little, “T-There’s a word for that kinda thing?”

You wish you could hear the entirety of this conversation because you’re so confused as to where this is going.

“Ohhh, then yeah,” Choso nods his head and looks at you with a smile, “I guess you could call me that—,” Something is said over the phone and he laughs, “What? No, she doesn’t know. Or, she didn’t know but, she’ll find out soon enough right?”

“Find out what soon enough-,” He starts walking away from you and you move to follow him, “Choso!”

You’re ignored as his conversation continues and eventually, Choso walks into his bedroom, shuts the door in your face, and locks it.

You stand there for a while staring at the door in disbelief of your boyfriend. What the hell just happened? What the actual fuck is going on??

You go to knock on the door, “Choso, open the door!” You shout.

The sound of him still chatting it up with Gojo over the phone is heard and you’re feeling all too many emotions at once. From annoyance to anger to confusion and even very faint arousal, you were completely baffled.

Another groan pours from your lips and after beating your hand against the door for maybe five minutes or so, awaiting some kind of response from your boyfriend, you just give up and stomp off.

Annoyed beyond belief, you make your way back into the living room, grab his things, and toss them onto the floor before plopping down on the couch.

You hastily grab the nearby remote and press play on the TV, bringing your thumb to your lip and chewing on your nail a bit as you try to distract yourself from whatever the fuck your lovely boyfriend is talking about with Gojo Satrou.

Somewhere deep down, you think you’re thankful Gojo called when he did because you almost kissed Choso again and you knew you’d let him take things further if he wanted to. If Choso thinks he’s deprived, he’s got another thing coming because you’ve been aching for it.

Doesn’t he know it’s just as difficult for you not to touch him as it is for him not to be touched? Does he not realize how much of a tease he can be? How in the middle of the night, he’d snuggle into your back and his crotch would press into your ass? Waking you up horny and frustrated?

You scoff. Choso doesn’t even realize how whenever he comes home from his job, he looks so stupidly handsome undressing himself— slight grunts and groans leaving those soft lips of his as he does so.

Then, even when you were hugging him, he’d bury his face into the crook of your neck and his every exhale and inhale made your heart skip a beat.

Oh and let’s not forget how simple phone calls and text messages were enough to get you worked up. It’d be so random too how Choso would text you as you’re in class. Something simple like Baby I miss you would have your heart throbbing and your smile unwavering.

There was one weekend where Choso left town to go visit his two younger brothers and he called you late that night. His voice was deep, husked even, and his breathing was a bit unsteady as he told you he was trying to go to sleep but he couldn’t because he started thinking about you…

Thus leading to him with a painful boner. Then, to make matters worse, not only did he end up sending you a video of what you do to him even when you’re not around but, he had the nerve to return home that week looking fucking perfect.

His face had seemed clearer, his skin was as smooth as ever, he smelled heavenly, and of course— of course Choso decided to come home and touch all over your body, claiming to have missed you terribly.

He was such a fucking tease. And he knows it too, Choso knows what he does to you. He sees it in your face all the time— hears it in your voice.

Which is all exactly why he couldn’t bear with you reducing your touches. That’s what caused the argument today as he came home.

Normally, if you were at Choso’s apartment when he got off of work, which you have been more-so in the past few months, you’d rush to him and greet him at his door. Before the sex-ban, you’d help him undress and smother his face in kiss after kiss, telling him how much you missed him, etc.

And of course he appreciated this more than anything. Hence why he’d constantly note that because you do little things like that, he swears to put a ring on your finger if you’d let him.

Even so, ever since you told Choso you weren’t gonna have sex with him for a while, you stopped doing so. Which is all why he’s upset and you’re frustrated. Maybe you should just drop the sex-ban…

Or maybe just touch him more like he wants and learn some self-control. But, it’s not like it’s your fault your boyfriend is so irresistible. How are you supposed to keep your hands off him-

There’s a sudden knock on the front door and you flinch out of your thoughts. You’d been so caught up with them that you hadn’t even realized thirty minutes had gone by and you still didn’t have your phone, nor did Choso come out of his room.

Instead of moving a muscle, you groan, “Cho, someone’s at the door!”

There’s no response for a minute and your groan deepens as you toss your head back against the couch and frown.

“Choso!” You shout, voice projecting throughout his apartment.

“What?!” He shouts back from his bedroom.

You turn your head toward the direction of his hallway, “There’s someone at the door!”

Neither of you has moved an inch and both of you are just shouting across his home, “You can’t answer it?” He asks.

“You’re closer!” You argue.

Choso chuckles and then his voice gets a bit louder as he cracks his door open to yell, “It’s for you anyway!”

“I-,” You blink and then let off a scoff as you spring up from the couch, “Tch, it’s for you anyway…” You say under your breath, mocking your boyfriend in an annoyed tone.

Everything he was doing was pissing you off and you had half a mind to head back to your apartment. Every step you took was heavy and you wanted Choso to hear how agitated you were.

“Can’t even answer the fuckin’ door…” You grumble to yourself as your hand reaches for the knob, unlocks the door, and goes to open it, “…Getting on my goddamn-,” You swing the door open and your eyes immediately widen, “…N-Nerves,” You whisper out to finish your statement.

In front of you stands Gojo Satoru. All six foot three of him, bright fluffy white hair, black t-shirt, grey sweatpants, angelically handsome face, and stupid rose-tinted lips pulled into a smug grin standing right in front of you.

You had to blink once, maybe twice-, perhaps three or four times to figure out if you were seeing things before you scoff, “Satoru?”

Cocking his head to the side, “Trouble in paradise?” Gojo comments in response, voice just as playful as you remember it.

“W-What the fuck are you doing here?” You breathe out, brows tensing and confusion taking over.

Gojo’s shoulders lift into a casual shrug, “I was invited, duh.”

You stare. Then, slowly and carefully, you start nodding as you move to shut the door on him. Maybe you were dreaming?

A hand is pressed to the edge of the door, an arm nearing your head as this hand comes from behind you, and the door is pulled open. You instantly jump as your boyfriend seemed to have simply appeared right behind you and you swear your heart was pounding out of your chest.

Lips near your ear and Choso’s voice is smooth as he speaks to you, “C’mon baby, don’t be rude to our guest,” He murmurs to you, deep voice caressing your eardrums and making you lose all your thoughts for a moment.

You quickly snap out of it and whirl your head around to look at the dark-haired man, “Choso, what the hell is going on-“

“Oh c’monnn,” Gojo suddenly speaks, “You heard your boyfriend,” He chuckles and you turn to him, eyes going wide as he leans down to you, “Don’t be rude to your guest,” Gojo murmurs.

He was so close that you could smell the faint mint coming from his mouth. His proximity worried you and you stepped back, only to run into Choso and your entire backside to bump into him. Your boyfriend places a hand on your waist and tugs you back a bit to give space for Gojo to walk in.

Never in your life have you been more confused than you are as you watch Gojo Satoru enter your boyfriend Choso’s apartment.

Then, Choso leans over just a little so that he can shut the door but he doesn’t move from behind you. Your eyes are all over Gojo’s face, asking him a million questions with your gaze alone.

Gojo starts snickering, “Sweets, if you have a question, just ask-“

“What the fuck are you doing here?” You blurt out, tone heated before you proceed to give him no time to respond. You’re then turning to Choso, “What the hell is going on?”

Your boyfriend stares at you innocently, “Isn’t it obvious?”

“Yeah, you’re a smart girl, you can figure it out,” Gojo chastises.

You swear you’re about two seconds away from popping a blood vessel. An arm of yours moves to shove Choso away from you and you scoff, “First off, fuck both of you. Start explaining yourselves, now.” You huff out sternly.

Choso flashes a sheepish grin, “I already explained everything to you, why are you confused-“

“You were being serious?!” You shout, “You seriously called Satoru over to fuck me?! What the hell is wrong with you?”

“You said I was too jealous of a boyfriend so I invited him to prove to you that I’m not,” Choso tells you, the look on his face completely serious.

You couldn’t believe him right now. Not only were you feeling embarrassed having Gojo stand here and listen to you and Choso bicker like an old married couple but you were also fuming with your boyfriend.

“W-What?!” You huff out.

Choso gives you this blank stare he knows pisses you off, “I don’t understand why you’re confused.”

“You don’t understand why I’m-,” You cut yourself off with a sigh and move to pinch the bridge of your nose with your fingers, “Choso Kamo, this is the kinda thing you talk about with your girlfriend beforehand.”

“Are we not talking about it now?” He argues, moving to fold his arms across his chest and tilt his head.

You glare at him for a moment before glancing back to Gojo. Then, you chuckle in an annoyed manner, “We shouldn’t be talking about this in front of… him.”

“Him?” Gojo pouts, “Hey, I have a name y’know-“

“Satoru shut the hell up. You will be dealt with, just give me a moment,” You cut off warningly. Turning back to look at Choso, “As for you, I don’t know what the hell’s gotten into you but we’re not doing this.”

Choso raises a brow, “Not doing what baby?”

“I’m not about to…” Your face twists up in disapproval, “…To cheat on you just so you can prove some stupid point-“

“Why not?” Your boyfriend asks nonchalantly.

“What do you mean why not? Choso what even possessed you to invite Satoru over?”

“I literally told you why already,” He says bluntly, “I wanna prove I’m not the jealous dickhead you keep making me out to be.”

Your brows raise, “And you wanna prove that by making me have sex with another man in front of you?”

“First off, I’m not gonna make you do anything,” Choso clarifies, “Secondly, yes, I do want you to have sex with another guy just to prove a point.”

“You’re crazy. I mean, Cho, you can’t be serious about this-,” You cut yourself off as you just barely glance down— spotting something that makes you eat your words. “Oh… Oh wow. You-, you’re…” You stammer as your lashes bat in disbelief.

Choso scoffs, “Yeahh… Still don’t believe me?”

“Why’re you…” Your brows furrow as you stare at the bulge in your boyfriend’s sweats, “D-Did just the thought of me and Satoru having sex in front of you get you like that?” You ask softly as you point.

Gojo suddenly pops his head over your shoulder and you flinch as he speaks, “Damnnnn, you seriously are a cuck,” He chuckles out.

Then his hands slither onto your waist and your entire body tenses up. Swallowing, you turn your head to Gojo and glare at him, “Don’t touch me.”

Blue eyes meet yours and he smirks, peeling his hands off your body but keeping his face close, “He wants me to.”

“Well, I don’t. I haven’t agreed to any of this yet-“

“Yet?” Both of the men point out in sync.

You swallow, “I-I mean, I… I wish you two would’ve given me some time to… t-to y’know, wrap my head around this,” You stammer out.

Having your stupidly attractive boyfriend and the annoyingly handsome Gojo Satoru in the same room, both taunting and teasing you was unbearably nerve-wracking.

Slowly, you look over to your boyfriend, “You really want me to-“

“Yes baby,” Choso cuts off.

“What’s even in this for you… aside from,” Your eyes narrow down at his boner, “A-Aside from getting off to this twisted fantasy of yours?”

He snickers, “Uh, I’ll be off of sex-ban after this.”

Your brows pinch together and you fold your arms, “Says who?”

“Baby, the point of the sex-ban was to teach me a lesson about bein’ jealous,” Choso explains, stepping closer to you. Your body was steadily heating up since Gojo was right behind you and Choso was nearing you, “Consider this my lesson learned.”

You scoff, “…Even if I did agree to this…” Slowly, you turn back to Gojo and his face is far closer than you anticipated it to be, his lips nearly on yours as your head turned, “A-Are you seriously okay with this, Cho?”

Gojo’s hands are placed onto your waist yet again but this time, you don’t push him off or tell him to move. You stare into those pretty blue eyes of his and watch as he smiles.

“He’s more okay with this than you think,” Gojo murmurs to you, tilting his head in a way that makes it seem like he was readying himself to kiss you.

You stare at Gojo for a second longer than you mean to before turning to look at your boyfriend once more and god damn his pupils are dilated and you swear his cock has doubled in size beneath his clothes.

Oh he was extremely serious about this.

Choso chuckles, “I can’t exactly fake my dick bein’ hard, can I? What more proof about this do you need to see I’m serious?”

“S-So… if I sleep with Gojo… you want the sex-ban to be over?” You ask for clarification as you glance back and forth between Choso’s left and right eyes.

“Mhm,” He nods at you, “And my point will be proved.”

“Right…” You look at Gojo again and his lips are a hair’s length away from yours at this point, “A-And you… you’re okay with this?”

“What kinda’ question is that?” The white-haired man laughs, “In what universe would I pass up the opportunity to fuck you again?”

You frown a little but, you’re no longer shying away from this, “Satoru… T-This is so wrong-“

“Is it any more wrong than the things I’ve had you do before?” He whispers lowly to you, low enough for Choso to miss what he uttered.

You swallow thickly at his words, “W-Well… yes, yes it is. I’m cheating on-“

“Is it really cheating if he wants you to do it?” Gojo argues.

You pout, “Yes-“

“No, no it’s not,” He interrupts while flashing a comforting smile at you.

“Satoru-“

“Can you two stop arguing and just make out already,” Choso groans, “I’m gonna blow my load before we even get to the good part…”

Gojo chuckles and lifts a careful hand to the side of your face, cupping your cheek in his palm as he pulls you close, “Well, sweetheart? Your boyfriend’s gettin’ needy.”

You shake your head slowly and your gaze falls to Gojo’s lips, “…This is so wrong.”

“Yeah,” Gojo murmurs back before pecking your lips, you sigh immediately and Gojo whispers against you, “But he likes it.”

There’s one last lingering look shared between you and Gojo before he gently presses his lips to yours again, feeling as you sigh against him and just barely ease into this. After all, it was different and weird to kiss someone who wasn’t your boyfriend after a wonderful ten months of dating him.

There are a lot of things you could’ve predicted in your future with Choso but this damn sure wasn’t a part of it. No, making out with Gojo Satoru as Choso just watches the two of you was not something you could’ve ever planned for.

Gojo’s taking things slow, melting into your mouth and steadily parting your lips to push his tongue inside as you hum against him. Choso was losing his mind. Yeah, from the second he saw the way Gojo looked at you, his cock sprung up.

Did he understand why? Not exactly, no. Hell, only about forty-five minutes ago did Choso learn of the word cuck and what it means to be one. He’s watching you and Gojo make out for a little bit before his feet move toward the two of you.

Choso nor Gojo miss the way you moan against Gojo’s lips as Choso presses his own into your neck. Oh. You were about to experience both of these men at the same time? Gojo and Choso. Gojo Satoru and Choso Kamo. To what being must you thank for such a heavenly experience? Your possessive boyfriend and your obsessive ex-lover (if you can even call him that).

Your boyfriend begins to suck on the side of your neck as you hum and squirm in between the two men. Gojo’s got his large hands firmly placed on your waist and you whine into his mouth as Choso moves to kiss under your jaw. With Gojo behind you and Choso now in front of you, you couldn’t possibly wrap your head around the fact that you were being sandwiched between these two men.

Handling either of them one at a time was already too much for you and yet here you were having to deal with both. You feel Gojo’s clothed cock press into your ass and he groans into your mouth before pulling away, both of you making low-lidded eye contact.

“Satoru,” You whisper.

He hums, “Shit-, this is hotter than I thought it’d be.”

Choso’s busy sucking at your neck before he pulls away with a loud pop, his breathing heavy against your skin as you grow hazy in lust. Then, he wipes his mouth off and takes a step back, “Baby…”

You turn your head to him with wide eyes, your lips prettily messy with saliva from Gojo’s tongue and fuck if Choso didn’t find you sexier than ever. Your brows raise innocently and he smirks at you.

“Can you do somethin’ f’me?” Choso hums out. You try moving toward him but Gojo tugs you back and Choso chuckles, “Don’t worry, I don’t want you to touch me yet,” Your boyfriend explains, “I want you to take care of our guest first, can you do that?”

Your eyes widen and you glance behind you and up at Gojo who flashes you a smile, “Yeah, can you take care of me, sweetheart?”

Gulping, you fein cluelessness, “T-Take care of you how…”

“Oh don’t act dumb,” Choso scoffs.

Gojo snickers, “Right, don’t act dumb…” He coos at you.

You pout and glance back over to your boyfriend, “I’m not actin’ dumb… I just want you guys to tell me what you want me to do…”

“Oh?” Choso raises a brow, “So you’re done actin’ like a brat now, huh?”

“I-I wasn’t acting like a brat earlier, you were just being an asshole,” You huff out before rolling your eyes and looking off to the side.

Gojo quirks a brow, “That’s no way to talk to your boyfriend, now is it?” He murmurs to you, causing a chill to slip down your spine.

“But…” Your lashes flutter, “He was being a fucking asshole-”

“You’ve got quite the mouth on ya’...” Gojo interrupts.

Choso suddenly nods, “Yeahh… She does, doesn’t she?” You swallow hard as your boyfriend voices his thoughts, “Why don’t you shut it up?” He suggests.

A hand is placed on your jaw and your face is tugged so that you’re looking at Gojo again, his fingers digging into your cheeks, “I should, shouldn’t I?” He teases, shifting to run his thumb over your lower lip, “She talks way too much anyway.”

“E-Excuse me-“

“She can’t talk when she’s got a mouth full of cock though,” Choso comments.

You swallow down whatever argument you were going to spit out to these two men.

Gojo smirks, “Good point…” He hums before slipping his thumb past your lips, “But, that’s probably what she wants anyway.”

“Think so?” Choso hums, smiling a little.

Gojo nods, “Know so.”

“Okay well, who are we to deny her of such a thing?” Your boyfriend shrugs casually.

“Exactly,” Gojo agrees before placing his attention back on you, “Is that what you want, love? Hm? S’that why you’ve been such a fuckin’ brat? Y’need someone to put you back in your place?”

Yet another pout pulls at your lips, “I wasn’t-“

“Aht, aht, none of that,” Gojo interjects, scoffing at you and finding your expression cute, “It’s yes or no, sweetheart.”

“Y-Yes,” You stammer in response.

He bites down on his lower lip, “Yeah?”

Before you can even nod, your boyfriend’s making your fluster state ten times worse, “Yes what, princess?”

“Yes please…” You whine.

“Be specific,” Choso demands, voice low, “C’mon, tell Satoru what you want.”

“I…” You gulp, “I want you to…”

“Aww don’t be shy, s’just me, sweets,” Gojo coos, his voice gentle.

You were losing your mind right now. Gojo being so careful with you while Choso forces you to voice your needs? Oh you’re not making it through the rest of this interaction, or at least, not in one piece and not mentally okay by the end of it.

“I want you to put me in my place ‘Toru,” You finally manage out.

Gojo hums deeply, “In front of your boyfriend? Seriously?” He teases as he moves the hands on your waist to spin you around. Then he tugs your body up against his, “You really are a lil’ slut, aren’t you?”

Your face twists up a little before you glance back to Choso who gives you a reassuring look— telling you through his eyes that this was okay.

After which, you look at Gojo again and nod, “Yeah.”

He chuckles before bending down a little and then lifting you into the air, your legs wrapped around him as he does so, “Well, if you insist. I guess I’ll have to start by punishing this mouth of yours for bein’ so mean to your boyfriend.”

You frown as you disagree with the claim of you being mean to Choso, “I-“

“Don’t act like that’s not what you’ve been wanting anyway,” Choso adds as he watches Gojo carry you past him. He trails behind the two of you, “I’ve seen the way you’ve been lookin’ at me lately, baby. You’ve been itchin’ to suck me off… Buuut since you put me on sex-ban, I guess that’ll have to do, right?”

You send the man a look and he smiles at you, completely obsessed with teasing you through this whole thing.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Choso hums as you, him, and Gojo enter the living room, “You said you’d take care of our guest first, remember?”

“Yeah, sweets,” Gojo chimes in— God the way they keep doing that is getting on your nerves-, “I can’t wait to put my cock down your throat.”

Okay, by this point, you were beyond pooling in your underwear and it doesn’t get any better as Gojo takes a seat on the couch with you sliding into his lap, his erection poking up against your cunt as you sit comfortably. Then there’s Choso who takes a seat not too far away from the two of you, his cock aching for some kind of attention.

One last time, you glance at your boyfriend, and then at Gojo, and then you sigh.

This was really about to happen-

There’s a soft tap to your ass by Gojo, “Don’t start zonin’ out now,” He hums.

Then Choso’s talking again, “Yeah baby, hurry up ‘nd get on your knees— I wanna see how well you suck another guy off.”

Yeah, this was about to be a long night…

part two

tags;

@blognicole @suguruologist @luqueam @ivoryviness @sinaxalui @rxnnie18 @carlacujo @gods-landing @bitchysouljellyfish @miles4hour @sinaxalui @annananamin @heart-snow @kiyomizzx @hanuh @acehyacinth @mccookiemonster @tojis-ball-sack @cartwheel6869 @mariluvsusstuff @addie1010 @slammynics @actualz0mbie @hisbitchhh @kay-xle @cunttee3 @voids-universe @raininglovelyfire @itsbokutosjuicyass @peaceoutbritta @barbielani @gennaray @r3inae @kfmcykdy @camiihutt @tokina @curtin81937 @hopefullydecent @nameless-shade @ureuphoriasworld @forgetfulmachine @legbouk @lilliaannn @clementineee0-0 @divinelseraph @didibxx

[reidmotif]

Popsicle Love

Summary: Reader and Spencer are at a ridiculously hot precinct station, getting on each other's nerves arguing. Reader realizes she can get back at him, using a certain sweet treat.

Prompt: Spencer can't deal with how much Reader loves popsicles/ice cream cones

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: Reader POV, rough sex, hair-pulling, dom!Spencer, coworker relationship, oral sex (m receiving), fingering (f receiving) , dirty talk, heavy making-out, unprotected penetrative sex, bathroom sex, hate-fucking, pure smut

Word Count: 3.2k

“It is too fucking hot for this” was my first thought as he began talking to me. Fuck Spencer Reid, because he was the who decided that today, in the sweltering Georgia heat, was the day he would annoy the ever-loving shit out of me. 

“You’re going about this all wrong!” Spencer said, rolling his eyes. His sleeves were pulled up, and there was anger in his eyes. I crossed my legs, feeling my skirt ride up but I honestly couldn’t care less. It was scorching, and I was determined to not lose this argument to Reid. I let out a breath of air, meeting him with my own annoyed, exasperated expression. 

“Reid, you’re being absolutely childish right now.” I retorted. “Sort through the paperwork first, then analyze it! Not everyone wants to do things the way you insist on doing them!” I say, furrowing my brows. 

“Not everyone can.” He says, cockily, a smirk gracing his lips. That motherfucker. 

I was about to get up and honestly hit him square in the jaw, half from my delusion in the heat, and half from how fucking smug he sounded. I wanted to knock that smirk off his face, and maybe ruin that pretty smile of his in the process, just as an added bonus. 

Thankfully, before I could do anything rash that would definitely result in me losing my job, one of the officers of the station quickly came to interrupt us. 

“Hey, one of the officers brought in popsicles. If any of y’all would like any, they’re in the breakroom.” She said, turning away. Thank God for Southern hospitality, I suppose. 

I sighed, getting up from my spot. Spencer and I clearly weren’t getting anywhere when it came to our disagreements, and that’s how it was, and how it would remain to be. The man was a pain-in-the-fucking ass, and it was an honest shame, considering the fact he was actually pretty hot, especially when his mouth wasn’t moving. 

Spencer walked ahead of me, the idea of something to cool him down enticing him just as much as it did me. We reached the breakroom and he opened the freezer, taking out the box of popsicles, and looking into it. He pulled out two, presumably one for me, and one for him. 

“Blue or red?” He says, holding out the brightly colored packages, offering me a choice of one. 

“Red.” I say, reaching over with no hesitation and grabbing the red-colored packaging in his hand. “Duh.” I added, starting to unwrap the treat. “It’s the best flavor.” 

He scoffed a little, opening up his own, blue package, and I rolled my eyes at the sound. 

“What, are you going to argue with me about my choices in popsicle flavor too now?” I say, with a disbelieving tone. 

“No, it’s nothing,” He says, shrugging, with that same, shit-eating, self-satisfied grin.

 God, I hated him. 

I gave a deep exhale through my nose, forcing myself to calm down. I decided it’d be for the best if I walked out, left him here alone to avoid another fight. He called out before I could even walk two steps. 

“You have to eat here.” He said, taking licks at his popsicle. “The officers- they’re old fashioned. I don’t know.” He adds, “If you wanna be yelled at though, be my guest.”

I grumbled internally at that, but I knew he was right. I didn’t want to be yelled at. 

I took my place, leaning against a table that had been placed in the breakroom and taking my own popsicle out of the packaging, beginning to eat it. I sighed happily as I felt the taste settle on my tongue, the coolness blooming throughout my mouth. I began by licking the sides before taking it in my mouth. I suckled for a minute, and I could feel it already melting down my fingers a bit, due to the heat in the station. I released the popsicle in my mouth with a pop, before going to lick the sticky residue off my fingers. It was a little childish, sure, but it was hot and it wasn’t like anyone was watching me. I continued this cycle, softly sucking at the popsicle and wrapping my tongue around it until I heard what sounded like ... a whimper from across the room? I let my eyes drift up, noticing a seemingly flustered Spencer in the corner of my eye. He leaned away from me, crossing his legs. I knitted my brows, before putting the pieces together, realizing what had happened. 

He was a guy, after all. And I suppose the way I was eating my popsicle could come off as suggestive, but come on! How else was I meant to eat it? And armed with the knowledge that my innocent action was enough to provoke him, I decided a little more intent in my movement couldn’t hurt. 

I began to take the popsicle a little more vigorously, bobbing my head a bit. My lips wrapped around the treat, and I could feel Spencer’s eyes shamelessly on me and internally grinned. Good. He had annoyed me all day, and the idea of him dealing with a hard-on with no way to relieve himself was definitely karmic justice in my eyes. I closed my eyes, savoring the taste, but also in the way I could feel Spencer shifting around, trying to hide what seemed like a fast-growing erection. When I hollowed out my cheeks, and swirled my tongue around the sweetness in my mouth, I could hear a sound from the back of his throat escaping his lips. I let the popsicle out of my mouth, and in that moment, a melted chunk seemed to fall off, landing itself on my chest. I hissed, feeling the coldness of the tacky liquid running down my bare skin. 

“Shit.” I said, trying to flick off the liquid off my hands and realizing I’d need to clean myself up. I dropped the remainder of the popsicle in the trash, not bothering to look back, before I walked over to the bathroom. I let out a breath of air as I opened the door to the precinct bathroom, looking at my chest and sighing, grabbing a handful of paper towels to run under the sink to wash myself with. 

Before I could do that though, I heard the door swing open, and saw through the mirror it was none other than Spencer Reid.  I crossed my arms, putting my back to the counter of the sink as I turned around to look him up and down. 

“What are you doing here?” I remarked, with a displeased tone. 

He looked absolutely furious, and there was a slight part of me that was excited, knowing I could rile him up like this. He was breathing heavily, and moving closer to me, trapping me in between the counter and his body, and what felt like a very noticeable hardness pressing against my thigh. 

“The better question is, what the fuck are you doing?” He asked, his tone low and menacing. 

I rolled my eyes, before feigning a look of innocence, making my eyes wide. “What do you mean, Spencer?” 

“You know exactly what I mean.” He responds, gripping a piece of hair at the back of my skull and pulling slightly, forcing me to bare my neck to him. “Where do you get off doing something like that to me, huh?” He murmurs, leaning closer and letting his lips brush over the shell of my ear. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I retorted hastily,  but I could hear the shakiness in my voice. The way he was speaking, the pull he had on my hair- it thrilled me, and contributed to a growing heat between my legs. 

He pushed himself further and further against me, and I could feel his erection against my thigh even more so than before, and felt my stomach flutter at the feeling. My jaw dropped a bit, letting out a soft sigh, sensitive to the sensation. 

“Oh is that right?” Spencer replies, nodding as he spoke a little cruelly. “You like acting like this? Like a goddamn slut?” He grunts out. He twists and pulls my hair a little more, eliciting a soft moan from my lips. 

“You like it when I pull on your pretty hair like that?” He said, snarking the words at me. “Like how wet I make you?” He whispered, venom in his voice. 

Without warning, he placed his fingers at the growing wet patch at my underwear, roughly pushing it aside before starting to rub harsh, tight circles around my clit. I nearly lost my mind at the sensation, nearly doubling over with pleasure. 

I whimpered softly, and I could feel his smirk as he started to kiss up and down my neck. “So wet for me, mm?” He says, starting to move his fingers faster over my swollen clit. “I’ve barely touched you. You’re fucking needy for me, yeah?” 

I groaned, not processing enough of what he was saying to warrant a response. My brain was foggy from how good he was making me feel. I tried to not think about the fact that this was Spencer, the Spencer who’d annoyed me from the moment I’d joined the BAU. The Spencer I despised, the one I was supposed to hate- but here was, making me orgasm in a precinct bathroom with his fingers alone. 

He rubbed a bit faster, before thrusting two fingers into my needy cunt. I moaned again, louder, and he responded by burying his fingers even deeper into my core, pumping harshly. I could feel the room spinning, gripping onto the counter behind me to stabilize me as my orgasm began to approach me rapidly. He watched me intently, his gaze hot and intense before smirking. “Come for me. Come all over my fingers, (Y/N).” He whispered. 

I did, nearly on command, convulsing against him as I felt myself clench around his long, slender digits, my moans reverberating around the small space.

He withdrew his fingers suddenly, leaving me painfully empty before he began to grab my face roughly, forcing me to look at him.

“Say that you want this, bitch.” He whispers harshly, pulling my hair and eliciting yet another moan from me as he pushed me up against the counter. 

“Spencer..” I murmured, feeling my knees go a bit weak at how roughly he was manhandling me. He spun our positions around, and I felt him using the grip on my hair to push me down to my knees.

“Say it!” He said, a little more firmly now. “I need to hear you say it.” 

I felt the desperation in his tone, weakly looking up at him from this angle before I nodded quickly. 

“I want you. I want this.” I wailed, arousal coursing through my veins. I no longer cared about the humiliation of letting him use me like this. I wanted to chase this feeling forever, wanted to be at his mercy for as long as he wanted, as long as he could continue to make me feel this good. 

I felt him groan above me, before he pulled me closer to his bulge, raising an eyebrow. He looked absolutely wild from here, sweat dripping down from his brow, and sleeves pushed up. He breathed heavily, his chest heaving up and down.

“Go on then. This is what you wanted, wasn’t it?” He mocked, but I could tell his voice was strained with the exact same need I was feeling in the moment. 

I gave no protest, using my deft fingers to quickly undo his slacks, pulling them down along with his boxers, watching his heavy cock bob in the air for a moment, before looking up at him, my jaw slightly agape. 

Was this really happening?

He nodded, as if to give me an okay, and I didn’t need any more encouragement than that. I swirled my tongue around his tip,  watching in fascination as I heard a groan from him, his head falling back as he moaned. “Fuck, (Y/N). Just like that.”

I grew bolder with his praise. I began to take more of him in my mouth, using my hands where my tongue wouldn’t reach. I gripped and worked his base, while suckling on what my mouth could reach. As I got used to the intrusion in my mouth, I moved down slowly, eventually taking the whole of him. He moaned loudly at this, and gripped my hair tighter, starting to move me up and down his cock. I relaxed the muscles in my mouth, letting him use me as he pleased. I watched from the lower angle the best I could, the sight of him coming undone at my mouth absolutely gorgeous. I could feel the tears pooling in the corner of my eyes, the saliva dripping down from my mouth and covering my chest. I wanted to watch him fall apart, to be at my mercy just as much as I was at his. 

He moaned at the feeling, and I could feel myself get wetter at the sound. “Oh fuck. You feel so fucking good.” He groaned out, before grabbing my hair yet again, and holding my head in place. He started to fuck my throat roughly, and the tears began to flow a little more rapidly, feeling the pooling of saliva down my chin as I felt him hit the back of my throat.

“You like this, huh?” He teased from above, between pants and sighs. “Wanted me all riled up, so we could do this, right?” 

I nodded desperately, incoherent begs and whines coming from my mouth before he pulled me off with a tug. I felt delightfully dirty, as he forced me up again and kissed me roughly. I barely registered him turning us around in my lustful stupor, bending me mercilessly against the sink and lifting up my skirt, pulling my underwear down in a clean swoop. I could feel him squeezing the fat of my hips and moaned at the way he controlled me so easily, to which he let out a smug chuckle. 

He gripped my hair again, pulling my head up and forcing me to look at myself. We looked sinful, his cock pressing against my wet folds, teasing me. 

“See that? You look like a fucking whore.” He snarled, breathing heavily. 

I wasn’t going to let him win so easily. Even though I wanted the same things as him, I knew the more I teased him, the better I’d get from him. I  raised an eyebrow and breathlessly murmured, “Are you going to stand there and look at me, or are you going to  fuck me, Reid?” 

He bared his teeth at me, thrusting into me roughly with no warning. “Oh, you wanna be fucked? Then take it.” He groaned, starting to buck his hips against me like a man possessed. 

I moaned at the sudden feeling, letting my jaw drop fully to let out all my noises. I could feel the slaps of his skin against mine, and the smell of sex filling up the small space. His fingers gripped so tightly into my stomach I swear I could feel the bruises already blooming over my stomach. I let him fill me up, his thick cock passing through me roughly, over and over again. 

“So fucking warm and wet. You feel..” He paused, moaning and jutting against me faster. “So fucking good.” 

I could see the sweat dripping down his brow, and the way it collected down his neck. In this moment though, the only heat I could focus on was no longer the one around us, but the one that came from every brutal pass of his cock, creating a delicious burn I reveled in with every moment he stayed inside me. I moaned loudly, feeling myself get hotter and hotter with every second. 

I watched through the mirror as he fucked me into the counter with no restraint, his head thrown back, eyes shut as he continued to use me, plowing into me from behind. I could feel my knees getting weaker, feeling his cock twitch inside of me as I arched my back to take more of him. He groaned at the sensation of him bottoming out, the rhythm of his hips becoming irregular as he continued to rut into me. I rolled my hips against him, hoping to spur on our impending releases. He thrust into me once or twice , until I felt him come with a loud moan,  a familiar warmth pooling into my deepest point, but even then his hips didn't still. He fucked his own arousal into me, and I could feel my orgasm rapidly approaching, his lazy thrusts doing me in, and soon enough I was spasming over his cock, moaning loudly. 

He pulled out of me, and my eyes fluttered shut at the sudden emptiness. I could feel his cum dripping down my leg, and his eyes watching in fascination as the mixture of both of our releases leaked out of me. He pulled up my underwear, immediately soaking up the liquids, and I groaned at the feeling. He pulled me up, leaning me against the sink. 

I watched as he panted against the sink, and I swear, I would’ve fallen over without his steady grip on my hips. He and I were both flushed, my hair absolutely ruined from how hard he’d been pulling it, my tear-stained face still contorted in an expression of pleasure as we both recovered from the highs of our orgasms. 

“Did I hurt you?” He asks, in between his breaths, looking genuinely concerned. “I wasn’t too rough, was I?”

I laughed a little bit at that, shaking my head. “You were the perfect amount of rough. Don’t worry.” I say, waving him off a little, assuring him that I got just as much out of this as he did. 

As he tucked himself back into his pants, he grinned at me for seemingly no reason. I met his eyes with a confused expression, raising an eyebrow, pressing my lips together. “What are you grinning about?” I ask, trying to fix my hair as I look at him.

He walked over to me, turning me to face the mirror. I felt his chest against my back, and one of his large hands came to wrap themselves around me, before he ghosted a finger over my chest and whispered against my ear. “You still have some of that goddamn popsicle on you.” He says, trying not to laugh. 

I rolled my eyes, chuckling a bit as I remembered the entire reason he’d been provoked to do this, and went to go finally wipe off the sticky residue once and for all. “Oh yeah. Popsicle.” I said, teasingly. 

“Never do that again.” He says, starting to move away from me as he worked on making himself presentable enough to leave the bathroom with me. 

I paused, turning around to look at him, still appearing completely fucked out and dazed as I smirked a bit. “If it gets you to fuck me like that? No promises.” 

wow! a short fic from me?! crazy!! i wanted to try my hand at writing something smutty, but short. this was specifically written for @imagining-in-the-margins summer sunshine challenge, so go check that out :3 thank you for any likes, reblogs or comments. <3 i'm eternally thankful

[these-lovely-monsters]

Tentacles Under The Bed - Part 4

[NSFW | 18+]

Characters: gn!tentacle monster x f!reader

Content: tentacles, eldritch monster, blow job, deep throating

A/N: If you were missing the tentacle smut in part 3, don't worry, I got you :)

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4]

⋆ ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ⋆

Smiling faintly, you give Karl another kiss, lingering a bit longer this time. After a moment, you feel its mouth part and something soft and wet strokes against your lips. Realizing that it's Karl’s tongue, you open for it. It immediately dives in, curling and twisting around your own tongue.

You groan softly at the sensation and return its strokes with licks of your own. Even though you can’t get too close to Karl’s mouth for fear of its razor sharp teeth, you’re perfectly happy with this alternative version of a kiss. 

Deciding to be a little bold, you wrap your lips around Karl’s tongue and suck gently. Suddenly, a melodic humming sound fills the room and it takes you a moment to realize that the noise is coming from Karl. This must be its sound of pleasure and it’s strangely beautiful.

Pulling back to catch your breath, you place your hand on Karl to keep it from chasing your mouth. You’re surprised to find that its surface is spongy and soft but solid. Not at all what you expected from its goo-like appearance.

“No. Give me more, my little delicacy.” Karl protests.

Laughing, you reply, “I guess you like that, huh? We can do more of that soon but I…” You fidget with your hands, unsure how to ask for what you want. “I want to touch you. To…make you feel good like you did for me.”

Karl perks up at that. “You want to touch me?”

“Yeah, if that’s alright with you?”

Without replying, Karl leans back and you watch as a vertical slit opens in the lower middle portion of its body. A new, lighter colored tentacle emerges from the gap and sways in the air in front of you. In addition to the color, this tentacle is different from the others. It’s smaller and thinner than the rest and it has no suckers lining it. The end is also slightly enlarged in a club shape rather than a tapered point.

It almost reminds you of one of the fantasy dildos you’ve been wanting to buy online and you blush again. At the thought, you realize that you’re not actually sure what gender Karl is so you ask awkwardly, “Karl, is that a—is this your…?”

“This is how we transfer sperm to another for procreation—a penis as you would call it. But each of our kind has both reproductive organs.” It says as it waves its new tentacle in the air.

"Oh, I mean—then what are your pronouns?"

“My species does not have the concept of gender. Whatever you would like to call me is fine.”

“Ok so is ‘they/them’ alright?”

“Ye—yes” Karl stutters out as you reach down and stroke a finger along their cock, finding it slick and moist. You wrap your hand around their length and pump up and down once. The humming sound fills the room again and you smile at their obvious pleasure.

For a few minutes, you continue to stroke their cock, squeezing harder and increasing your pace. Using your other hand, you reach down and tease your fingers along the slit around the base of their cock. They shudder in response and the humming increases in volume.

Wanting to give them even more, and maybe selfishly wanting a taste for yourself, you drop down to your knees on the soft plush carpet.

“What are you—” They don’t manage to get anything else out as you tentatively lick at the club-shaped tip. The slick substance coating their cock is sweet and creamy, almost like vanilla frosting. The humming stutters at the action and you do it again, surprised but delighted at the odd flavor. Noticing a small slit on the tip, you probe it with your tongue and the hum deepens.

As you lick and suck at the tip, you continue to stroke and tease the rest of their cock with your hands. When a clear glittering substance begins to well in the slit, you lap it up eagerly, the taste of vanilla bursting on your tongue. You moan in pleasure at the deliciously sweet flavor and dive back in for more.

Eventually, once you’ve become more comfortable with this new cock, you open your mouth and take it as far in as it will go. Hollowing your cheeks, you suck hard as you bob your head up and down while swirling your tongue along the underside.

“Yes,” Karl’s voice echoes in your mind, more guttural now. “Let me have more.”

Before you can ask what they mean, a tentacle wraps around the back of your head as they hold you in place while their cock slides down into your throat. You gag at the intrusion, wanting to pull away, but a part of you loves that they’re taking control like this. You brace your hands on their soft body for support and try to relax, letting them have their way with you.

They pull out again, allowing you to breathe for a moment before shoving back in even deeper this time. As they fuck your mouth, going deeper with each thrust, another tentacle wraps around your neck. They don’t squeeze though and you realize that they’re feeling the bulge of their cock as it slides in and out.

Wetness is dripping between your thighs at being used as a fuck toy for this giant tentacle monster and you squirm, trying to find some relief. But you’re determined to give Karl their pleasure this time so you just squeeze your thighs together and enjoy the erotic scene.

Tears are streaming down your face from fighting the gags wanting to climb up your throat and snot is pouring from your nose. You probably look like a mess but you don’t care as long as Karl doesn’t stop. Noticing the wetness on your face, they reach up with a tentacle and gently rub at the moisture on your skin. Another tentacle reaches up and traces the edge of your lips which are stretched wide around its cock.

“I do not want to see you cry but I love the taste of your tears.”

Moaning at their words, you swallow convulsively. The humming noise intensifies with a new, much deeper, thrumming sound that harmonizes with the melodic notes. When you feel Karl’s cock begin to swell, the sounds filling the room speed up and you think they might be close.

Within a few moments, their thrusting becomes jerky until they stop fully, holding their cock deep inside your throat. It suddenly starts undulating and you feel a thick, cool substance sliding down your esophagus and filling your stomach. It feels as if it goes on forever until finally the humming subsides and Karl gently eases themself from inside you.

Slumping back, you cough and wipe at your wet cheeks. Your throat is raw and your underwear is completely soaked but you’re entirely satisfied at getting to do something for Karl this time.

They reach out tentatively to stroke your neck and ask softly, “Did I hurt you?”

Smiling, you place a hand on their tentacle and squeeze gently. “No, I liked that a lot. Was it…ok for you?”

“Yes my sweet. It was the most exquisite thing I have ever experienced aside from watching you come apart on my tentacles.”

⋆ ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ⋆

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4]

taglist: @blushycadaver @pearlofrose @gothicsugarslvt

[ak319]

Lovesick bubbly hubby x fem reader

ミ☆Headcanon#3𓏲

(Warnings: Contains mpreg (bxg pairing, YES, boy x fem reader), and matriarchal themes/gender role reverse so don't interact if you are not comfortable!! ‎♡‧₊˚)

♥︎ Headcanon #2

🍭"Narin, just one more paragraph, c'mon. Then we can go get some ice cream."

"You know, you're the cruellest wife anyone could have. Making me do assignments in this condition."

"What condition? You're fine, Narin. You're not even the one typing your essay. Just one more paragraph, c'mon, you can do it." He acts as if he's in his last months, when he’s only three weeks in. After another exaggerated sigh, he finally gave in, and you closed the laptop with relief.

"It's your last semester. Just get it done, and then your lifelong dream of staying home will come true."

"Are you taking me out for that ice cream or not?" You chuckled, getting up and offering him a hand. "Let's go."

Narin finally got what he wanted after so long, but deep down, he knew it wouldn’t be enough to pull him out of university. Still, the thought of becoming a father—of your child—filled him with uncontrollable excitement. He just prayed that your family wouldn’t cast an evil eye on the baby. Hmph! Lost in thought, he unconsciously placed his hands over his stomach as you drove, unaware of the silent storm brewing within him.

Meanwhile, your mind was all over the place. First, an unexpected husband, and now a child on the way?! You couldn't stop worrying about the future. You never imagined yourself as a mother, especially not with a husband like Narin, who could barely take care of himself. Maybe he would mature once the baby was born... or would you just have two kids to look after instead? How did this even happen? Weren’t you both careful? Wasn’t he taking pills, too? Well, it didn’t matter now. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him, hands protectively resting on his stomach, looking content and as happy as ever. You sighed and decided to put on some music to drown out the spiralling thoughts. Soon enough, you both reached the ice cream shop.

Months passed, and Narin’s university days came to an end. It had been three months into his pregnancy when one day, you came home to find him curled up on the sofa with Prince. There was no usual excitement, no running up to greet you like he always did.

🍭"Narin? You okay? Is something wrong?" By now, the panic in your voice was impossible to hide. You gently made him sit up, cupping his face, and your heart sank as you saw his puffy, red eyes. He was still sniffling, avoiding your gaze, his usual brightness nowhere to be found.

"Narin? You're making me worried. Tell me, what's wrong, baby?"

"I-just-what if you... leave me?! Does your family think I'm not competent enough to bear your child?! Because I feel like it!" His voice cracked with emotion, and you could hear the frustration in every word. Where was all this anger coming from?

"What are you talking about? Who said that?! And why on earth would I leave you?" You could feel your own heart racing. Narin might be childish and immature at times, but he was still your husband, and you cared for him deeply even more so now. Why couldn’t he see that?

"I would never abandon you. Never, you or our child."

"What if it’s a boy? Like me?!" His voice trembled with insecurity, his eyes wide with fear. It was clear the pregnancy hormones were heightening all his worries. You took a deep breath, reminding yourself to stay calm. He needed your reassurance more than ever now.

"Then we’ll love him just the same, Narin. Just like I love you." He finally looked into your eyes.

"Listen, Narin baby. You’re very, very important to me. I love you and our future child, no matter if they’re a boy or a girl. I just want you both to be healthy, and my family wants the same. No one is doubting you, and if they are--just tell me their name. I’ll have a talk with them myself. Now, tell me, did someone say anything to you?"

He shook his head sincerely.

"Then?" you asked gently, stroking his hair.

"I... just had these thoughts..." he whispered, voice trembling slightly. He grasped your collar tightly, his body now almost in your lap. "You won’t leave, right?"

"Never." You held him closer, your voice firm with reassurance, and yet he needed more. He needed to drown in that reassurance, to feel it in every part of his being. You held him tighter, but it still didn’t feel close enough. "And don’t let these thoughts ruin your mood or stress you out. You hear me? Promise me, you won’t."

He nodded, but this time he clung to you like a lifeline, his fingers tightening in your shirt. "Promise," he whispered, his heart racing. He knew that you were not going to leave him but he just wanted to make sure and...was bored. Damn, he can be a really good actor if he wants to but in all seriousness, it's important to remind you that he is now your everything, your new family. In his head, there was no room for doubt. You belonged to him, and no one else could ever come between you two.... and now three of you. Not now, not ever.

In his eyes, the most delightful thing is making you run for whatever he craves, even if it’s the middle of the night or a drive to another town just to get a snack he tried once. He revels in the fact that you’ll do anything for him, and he takes immense pride in bragging about how caring and romantic his wife is. He squeals with childlike excitement when you’re out fulfilling his whims, loving how dreamy and devoted you are.

But lately, there’s a shadow of sadness in his eyes as he watches you work harder than ever. You’ve started a new venture with your friend, and it’s consuming more of your time and energy.

🍭"You should take a break now," he said, plopping down next to you on the couch and peering over your shoulder at your laptop. His tone was light, but there was an edge of concern beneath his playful words. "I don’t want to be a widower in this condition." You jerked your head towards him in shock at his bluntness. It was classic Narin--his naive habit of saying whatever came to mind without fully thinking it through. You just sighed, shaking your head at his antics.

"I’m not dying here, you don’t have to worry. I’ll be done in a few minutes."

"Why are you even doing this?! Isn’t your salary enough-"

"No, it’s not enough. Certainly not for the future when the kid is going to grow up and go to school and stuff." Narin grumbled, leaning his head against your chest with a sigh. He was like a needy kitten, wanting your comfort and attention, and the warmth of your chest made him feel a little safer. 'As disciplined and farsighted as ever. So fucking hot.' Well, he is kind of glad too, now that you are working so much, you rarely have time to visit your own family. Hehe. That's right wifey, work for me and your child now, our child.

"Yeah, you’re right. And also, it’s not like we’re going to have only one, right? I was a single child, so I want more than one kid. Got it?" Your hands paused momentarily over the keyboard.

"Um--yeah, but focus on this one for now..." Narin’s smile widened as he traced his finger lightly across your chest. "Oki! Our kids are going to be the prettiest and the smartest!"

You couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm, even as worries about the future tugged at the edges of your thoughts. "Of course," you replied softly, placing a gentle kiss on his crown before returning to your work. In that moment, the presence of each other made the stress feel a little more bearable.

@mel-vaz ����

[luveline]

can we see more of kbd after everyone agreed another baby would be a good idea? 🥹

KBD —just another day at home with Steve and your kids. mom!reader, 1k

Baby five shows quickly. You smile at your body in the mirror, the roundness that’s taken your stomach, a proud baby bump for a small baby. 

It looks super solid today. Unmistakably pregnant, though you suppose you could just be super bloated. Good thing you have the tests to prove your case. 

“Steve?” you ask. 

He’s in the closet looking for a clean shirt. “Yeah?” 

“Wanna see my tummy?” 

“Always, but why?” 

“The bump is out.” You turn to the side, cupping the underside of your stomach to emphasise it. 

You didn’t plan on five babies. Four felt like enough for the time being, perhaps forever, and so baby five was a shock you loved. You weren’t trying but your protection clearly failed, as is the risk, and you love your family and the life you’ve made. You weren’t sure a fifth child would hurt that or not, but the moment you saw your positive test you knew what you wanted. And Steve’ll do pretty much anything he needs to give you what you want. It doesn’t hurt that he’s always wanted as many babies as he can have. 

“The bump is out,” Steve repeats, screwing his mouth up to hide how excited he is unsuccessfully. 

He comes up behind you in the mirror and looks down over your shoulder. He covers your hand on your stomach, his hair tickling your cheek. 

“Bump number five,” he says softly. 

“I was just thinking that.” 

“Girl or boy?” 

“Boy.” You turn your face to meet his eyes, warm brown and as dreamy as the day you met. You still remember your first kiss, how he’d touched your neck gently to guide you. It was more loving than you’d imagined. You had no idea before you met him how much affection could be shared in just one kiss. “I think it’s a boy, this time.” 

“You don’t usually guess,” he says, your faces incredibly close. 

“Four girls already. I like our chances.” 

“You’d love another girl.”

“Of course I would.” 

“It would be nice, though…” 

You hum. You close your eyes, and wait for whatever it is he’s going to do, content to be kissed or cuddled or simply leaned on. “I love you, honey,” he whispers. 

“I love you, too. What’s on the list today?” 

“I don’t think there’s much,” he says. You smile as his nose traces your cheek. “The only thing I can think of is finding Avery’s sweatpants for dance.”

His hand moves to your hip, turning you toward him, holding you.

“They’re in the dryer. Saw them earlier,” you say.

“It’s just the same as usual, then.” 

“Ave wants to make those brownies,” you remind him. 

“Yeah. Maybe we can go to the store? Dove needs a couple of new t-shirts, I think, and the pantry is pathetic. We’re a day away from running out of fruit slices. We can get brownie mix at the same time.” 

The girls will riot if you run out of fruit slices. They’re obsessed with them, warm pastries with fruit jelly in the middle that cause all sorts of arguments. 

He straightens your shirt out over your new bump and holds you by the hips. You expect it as he kisses you, and while his kisses don’t make you nervous anymore, you still love the feeling of his lips against yours, and the smoothness with which he turns his face and your lips part against his. Warm, sweet kissing. You hook an arm behind his neck and give in. 

When you’ve kissed one another dizzy, turned yourselves into gauzy flushed caricatures of a couple in love, you reluctantly part to finish getting dressed. You savour how it feels to put on your own socks, knowing that in just a few months you’ll lose the ability all over again. 

You’re checking you look presentable in the mirror when Bethie lets herself in. 

“Hello,” she says. 

“Hi, baby.” You wipe lint from your cheek. 

“Dad?” 

Steve again returns from the closet, but now he’s dressed, and looking for some hair mousse. “Hey, baby, what’s up?” 

“Are we going out?” she asks. 

“To the store.” Steve grabs her under the arms and puts her standing on your bed. “Wow, you got taller?” 

Beth laughs. Steve chucks her under the chin and returns to his mousse search. On the vanity, the baby monitor crackles, and then a cry gurgles from the speakers, echoing up the stairs. 

“Mommy!” Avery calls. “Wren is awake!” 

You laugh to yourself. “I’m coming! Thank you, Ave!” 

“She has a snot bubble!” 

“Oh no!” 

You ditch Steve. Beth decides to come with you, sliding off of the bed and saying, “Mom, mom, mom,” until you hold her hand. You make your way downstairs together, where Avery and Dove are eating chocolate covered popcorn at the plastic play bench in front of the TV, their colouring books open and brightly decorated. Wren cries weakly in her rocker to be picked up, nearly eleven months old and agitated. 

You wipe her snotty nose with a wet wipe stashed under the rocker. “Don’t cry, sweetheart, it’s okay, it’s okay, I’m getting you out.” You lift her up and sit down on the couch, holding her to your front. “That was a good nap.”

“Mama,” she says. 

You smile. “That’s me, sweetheart. Mama-ma.” 

“Mama,” she says, her tears quickly smoothed away. She grins at you. She doesn’t seem like she’s just been napping. 

“Hello,” you murmur softly. “Did you have a good sleep?” You stroke along her face and under her chin. 

“Mom, can we go to the store, too?” Avery asks.

“How did you know I was going?”

“You’re in jeans and it’s Saturday.”

“My little detective,” you croon, to Wren’s delight. She crawls up your chest to kiss you. You laugh under her, and more when Avery climbs onto the couch to hug your arm. Beth follows.

“Can I come?” Dove asks. 

“Of course you can!” you say through kisses. “Come up here and cuddle me. Come on, Dove. I’m putting all my love in my tummy for the baby, so I need extra.” 

It’s a cheap shot, but it encourages Dove into the couch, where she presses a kiss to your cheek. “I wanna push the cart,” she says. 

It’s so nice to hear her voice that you agree on impulse. “You can push, baby, dad’s gonna help you.” 

Speaking of her dad, Steve appears again with arms full of dresses, socks, underclothes and cardigans. “Who’s going first?” he asks.

It’s easier than it looks. Avery’s a big girl who doesn’t need help but gets it anyways. Beth stands still as a doll, and Dove likes when Steve buttons up her cardigan because he gives her one kiss for each button. 

He leans down to kiss you gently and take the baby. Always gentle, your husband. 

[verstappen-cult]

STUPID CUPID, M. VERSTAPPEN

CHAPTER 01: OF ALCOHOL AND BAD DECISIONS

✶ SUMMARY. Making decisions when you’ve had too much to drink is the worst thing someone can do, but it’s exactly what Lando does. He has 100€, a plan and a friend in need of a new camera. What could possibly go wrong?

content warnings ✶ disclaimers. fem!reader. oscar being an overprotective brother. alcohol consumption. i don’t specify what they’re studying, just that they’re in the same university & some of them share classes. use of Y/N. attempted humor. attempted banter. a little bit of landoscar.

NEXT PART | SERIES MASTERLIST.

“Remember to keep your things close to you at all times. Do you still have the pepper spray I gave you last summer?” Your brother talks as he walks by your side. He woke you up this morning to have a last walk around campus, so you won’t get lost Monday morning on your first day. He doesn’t wait for you to answer before adding, “I’m always gonna be around but you need to—”

“Oscar,” You place a hand on his shoulder to make him stop. “I’m ten minutes younger than you, and I’ve been traveling around Europe alone for the last four months. I think I can handle myself.”

“I just want you to be careful.”

“If I survived High School, I think I can survive anything.” 

He smiles and wraps an arm around your shoulders to resume walking. “I can’t believe you finally decided to join me here. This past year has been awful without you.”

“You’re exaggerating.” You chuckle, wrapping your own arm around his waist. “I just needed some time away to clear my head,” You shrug, a hesitant smile gracing your lips. There’s so much inside your head, so much you want to say to him, but you’re not brave enough to say it out loud. You’ve never been. “And I know our parents wanted us to go to the same university since, like, forever. I couldn’t disappoint them.” Not again.

You’re passing outside the Ice Rink when you run into one of Oscar’s friends.

“Hey!” One guy, whose name you can’t remember, approaches you both. He’s wearing his hockey uniform, sport bag hanging over his shoulder and a hockey stick in his left hand. “We missed you at practice today, mate. Hey, Y/N.” 

His smile is so contagious, you feel bad for not remembering his name. You turn to look at your brother and just one exchange of glances is enough for him to understand. 

“Hey, Alex.” He pulls away from you to clasp a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I just wanted to show my sister some places.”

“Oh yeah! You start on Monday, right?” You don’t even have time to open your mouth before he’s speaking again. “Are you nervous?” 

You bite the inside of your cheek and nod one time. “A little,” It’s the only thing you’ve been thinking about since you moved in with your brother a few days ago. There is so much you still need to do, the rest of your clothes aren’t even here yet, but you are more worried about finally starting your uni life than anything else. “but I prefer not to think about it.”

“I keep telling her she has nothing to worry about.” The smile on your brother’s face is the same one you saw six months ago before he left for his second year at University and you left for your trip, the ‘i’m so proud of you’ kind of smile. “She’s sharing classes with Charles, actually.”

“Oh, so you’re gonna be in good hands.” Alex says it with a laugh, that only earns him a hit on the head from your brother. “Anyway, we have that party tonight at Lando’s. Are you coming?” 

You don’t miss the way his cheeks heat up in a blush. “No, we can’t. Maybe another time.”

“You can,” You interrupt him. It is the second time he turns down an invitation just to stay with you. “I need to finish organizing the last of my stuff. Boring stuff. You should definitely go, it’s Saturday, Osc.” 

“Yeah but—”

“He’ll be there.” Alex tries to hide his laugh but doesn’t do a good job. 

“I’m pretty sure someone’s gonna be very happy.”

“Goodbye, Alex!” 

Oscar grabs your arm, giving you barely enough time to turn around and wave a goodbye to his friend before he drags you away.

“What was he talking about?” 

“Don’t know,” He simply answers, pulling his phone out of his pocket to check the time. “What do you say we grab some lunch?”

The party’s in full swing when Oscar walks through the door of his friend’s apartment. 

It is definitely a party organized by Lando; too many people in a cramped space, his DJ friend in a corner of the living room and everyone making out with everyone. Just the kind of party only Lando likes. 

Oscar makes his way into the kitchen, needing some liquid courage. 

“You came!” Alex shows up out of nowhere, he notices his friend is holding a beer in his left hand as he wraps his arm around his shoulders. Oscar doesn’t know how much he’s had to drink, but he smells too much like alcohol for his liking. 

Leaning against the kitchen counter, full of different kinds of alcohol and chips, is Charles and his girlfriend. 

“Hey,” Charles raises his own beer as a greeting. “Where’s your sister?”

“Don’t tell me you left her alone in your apartment.” Charles’ girlfriend frowns, throwing daggers at him. 

Oscar throws his hands up in surrender. “She didn’t want to come. I insisted but she still has things to organize.” 

“You should give her my number,” Alex, Charles’ girlfriend says with a smile, snuggling closer to his boyfriend. “I’m sure we’re gonna get along.” 

Oscar opens his mouth to actually ask for her number when the thunderous voice of none other than Lando Norris interrupts him.

“Oscar! You came!” Lando hugs him from behind, spilling some of his drink on the floor. But he doesn’t even notice, he’s more focused on finding his cheek to kiss. 

“Hey, Lando.” Oscar blushes. Blushes hard. He’s glad the dim lighting can hide how Lando makes him feel. “Good party.”

Lando smiles, sliding next to him and bumping shoulders. “Glad you like it.” Oscar finds himself returning the smile. 

“Please stop flirting in front of me or I’m gonna throw up in your faces.” Alex rolls his eyes and Lando hits him in the chest. 

Oscar finds it cute the way Lando’s cheeks heat up at the joke. He downs the last of his drink and Oscar has to fight the urge to wipe a drop of liquor from his bottom lip. 

He hasn’t even had a drink. What’s wrong with him?

He’s thankful when Charles hands him a beer, so he has something else to do rather than stand there like an idiot ogling at Lando and wondering what his lips would taste like. 

One minute they’re all hanging out in the kitchen, drinking and talking about the next hockey game — the boys threatening him if he misses another practice — and the next one he’s sitting on the couch with Lando glued to his side, one of his legs over his lap. 

Oscar looks down at his phone, his last text to you still without an answer. 

[00:25] Oscar: Are you okay? Do you need anything?

He sighs, typing a new message. 

[00:30] Oscar: I hope you’re just busy and nothing bad happened.

[00:31] Oscar: I’m going to buy pizza on my way back home.

“Oscar?”

He immediately looks up to find Lando looking at him with a pout. 

“Sorry, I needed to text my sister.” 

He reaches forward and boops Oscar on the nose with his index finger. “You worry too much. Isn’t she the same age as you?”

“Well, yeah.” Oscar feels a little silly now but doesn’t say anything. “But she doesn’t know anyone around here, so I don’t wanna leave her alone for so long.”

Lando flops his head onto Oscar’s shoulder and gazes up at him with his big, brown eyes. 

“You’re cute.”

Oscar can’t help himself. He lifts his hand and pushes an errant curl behind Lando’s ear, fingers lingering on his cheek. 

“You’re cute, too.” Oscar says, swallowing the lump in his throat. 

Lando’s eyes are wide as he stares at Oscar. 

Oscar breathes into the air and Lando’s expression softens as he moves closer, breaths mingling and faces flushed. They’re so close that Oscar can count the freckles on his face. 

The moment is interrupted by the ping of Oscar’s phone announcing a new message. 

Oscar pulls away, hands reaching for his phone beside him. 

[00:48] You: sorry was busy trying to fit all my clothes in your tiny closet 

[00:48] You: pizza sounds good! im starving

[00:49] You: hope you’re…

He doesn’t finish reading the third message, he just gets up after the second one, almost throwing Lando off the couch. 

“Wha—what happened?” Lando is confused, his pupils wide and a faint blush still on the top of his cheeks. 

“Sorry, I have to go. My sister needs me.”

“But we were about to,” The curly-haired boy tilts his head and raises his eyebrows, not really wanting to say the word ‘kiss’ out loud.

Oscar types a quick message, letting you know that he’s on his way, not even listening or looking at Lando. “See you Monday!”

Oscar is out of there in record time, leaving the party and a very confused and frustrated Lando behind. 

Lando groans, head hanging over the back of the couch, and hides behind his hands.

A laugh startles him, making him look through his fingers. “That was awful, mate.” His best friend’s leaning against the wall behind the couch, a glass of —he assumes— gin and tonic in his hands.

“Were you watching us?” Lando wants to dig a hole and crawl in. “You perv!”

“It’s not my fault you didn’t hear me the first time I announced myself. You were too busy trying to get laid.”

Lando groans again, “I barely know Oscar’s sister but I don’t like her.”

Max laughs, plopping down next to him. Lando takes the still very full glass out of his friend’s hand and downs all the liquid, wincing as he’s not used to the taste. 

“You should’ve run after him.”

He perks up, “Should I?”

“No, you idiot.” Max looks at him as if he’s grown a second head. “Are you that desperate to get laid?”

“It’s not that.” Lando pouts, turning his body to the right so he’s facing him. “I really like Oscar. Like I have a huge, fat crush on him since the first time I saw him at hockey practice a year ago.”

“And I’m sure he knows it.” Max says, sarcastically.

“We barely talk,” Lando really wants the earth to swallow him whole. “well, he barely talks. I don’t know if he’s just shy or doesn’t like me.” He sighs, looking at his friend, who is listening expectantly. “And when I finally decide to do something, his sister moves in with him. It’s great. Just great.” He throws his hands in the air, tired, frustrated. Sexually frustrated more than anything. 

“What a cockblock, uh?” 

“Exactly! You’re the only one that gets me, Maxie.” Lando throws himself at him, and Max has barely any time to grab him by the waist to stop him from falling face first onto his lap. “I wish I didn’t catch feelings so fast. Just—like you! Fucking my way around, no strings attached. How do you do it?” 

Max laughs, patting his friend on the back when he starts hiccuping. 

“You’re too soft for that.” 

“I’m not!” He pulls away, eyebrows furrowed. “I need to do something before I go mad. I really want Oscar to notice me.” 

“Oh, believe me, he notices you.” But Lando is deep in his thoughts, bottom lip between his teeth. Max can almost see the cogs working inside his head. 

“Does she not have a life? Friends?” Lando asks absentmindedly. 

“Well, you said she just moved in.” 

“So that’s what she needs.” 

“What?” Max can barely keep up. 

“A life!” Lando pulls out his wallet, and it takes him three failed attempts to pull out a 100€. He hands the money to Max without another word. 

Max looks at him, and then the money in his hands. “What am I supposed to do with this?” 

“I don’t know,” Lando shrugs. “just make sure she has a life.” 

“What?” 

“Money,” He takes his friend’s hand and places the money on his palm. “so you can take her out or something. I don’t care.” 

“Hold on a second.” Max sits up, hand brushing through his hair. “You want me to take her out?” 

“Yes! If you take her out, she has a life. Then, I can shoot my shot with Oscar without having to worry about his sister.” Lando looks like the cat that got the cream, eyes glistening and everything. 

“And why would I do that?” 

“Because you love me. And everyone wins.” 

“What do I win?” Max wants to laugh but the seriousness on his friend’s face stops him. 

“A pretty girl.” Lando simply answers. “And 100€.”

“How do you know she’s pretty?” 

Lando looks at him beneath his eyelashes, his lips in a pout. “Please do this for me.” 

Max thinks about it for a second. 

He really thinks about the whole plan. 

He would be helping a friend — his best friend. He would be hanging out with a pretty girl and, if everything goes well, he would be getting in that same pretty girl’s bed. 

And he needs a new camera. 

“Just one time? Or you want this to be a regular thing?” If he’s going to do this, he may as well make the most out of it. “Because if you want me to keep her busy, that means I’d have to take her out and that means more money.” 

“I can’t think anymore.” Lando throws his arm over his eyes, the music too loud for him to hear his own thoughts. “Let’s see how it goes first. Then, we talk about more money. Now just let me sleep, I’m gonna have the worst headache of my life tomorrow.” 

“Well, you got yourself a deal.”

The first two classes weren’t that bad. 

By the third one you felt a lot more comfortable. Even more so when you recognised one of your brother’s friends in the same class as you. 

Charles gave you some tips about certain professors and what you needed to expect in your first year. He’s in his second year now, so you listened very closely to everything he had to say. 

You’re one of the first ones to walk in the lecture hall, so you have enough time to find a seat and answer one of the dozen text messages from your parents asking about your day. 

And the other dozen from your brother. 

[15:23] Oscar: Want to have lunch together?

[15:28] Oscar: How’s your day going? Any news?

[15:35] Oscar: I just bumped into Charles. He says you’re doing good! 

[15:40] Oscar: I have hockey practice today. 

[15:42] Oscar: In case you want to come and walk home together. 

You sigh, a small smile gracing your lips.

[16:02] You: all good so far. i have a very weird professor lol 

[16:04] You: charles is such a nice guy, it made my classes so much easier and fun 

[16:07] You: i really want to see you playing hockey so i might go look 

[16:08] You: my last class is about to start so i’ll talk to you later. love you!

You’re hitting send when a presence startles you.

“Is this seat taken?” He asks, pointing to the seat right next to yours. 

You look around the lecture hall, still pretty much empty.

“Uhm, no?” You can count on the fingers of one hand how many people are attending the class. But he still chooses to sit next to you. 

The teacher comes in a few minutes later, a few more students after him, but even then the lecture hall feels empty. 

“Hey,” The stranger says, leaning in to whisper without drawing the teacher’s attention. 

You turn your head around, forcing yourself to move away when you realize how close he really is. “Yes?” You say, typing away on your computer as the professor gives the class the list of books needed for the semester.

“Do you have a pen I can borrow?” He has a sheepish smile. Only then you notice that he doesn’t carry a backpack, or books. He’s just there, in a class where he’s supposed to be taking notes, without anything.

You dig into your bag, pulling out a pen and a sheet of paper. 

His smile grows. “Oh, thank you!” 

“Are you sure you’re in the right class?” 

“Yes, why do you ask?” He turns his attention back to the professor, who’s saying something you should definitely be paying attention to, but you’re more focused on the boy sitting next to you. 

“No reason at all.”

You make it through the first hour without distractions. Well, apart from the tapping of the stranger next to you and his constant sighing and twisting on his seat. 

When the professor excuses himself to answer an important call, you know you have to say something. 

“Can you stop, please? You’re distracting me.”

“Oh,” He leans a little closer, “Am I?” 

You groan, asking yourself if staying in that seat is really worth it.

You don’t want to look at him, you really don’t. The first time you saw how big and blue his eyes were, you knew you wouldn’t be able to look at him again without getting lost in them. 

So, you simply nod while pretending to look for a folder in your computer. 

“I noticed the first time you kept typing the same line over and over again.”

Your blush starts at your neck and goes all the way up to your ears.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re doing it again,” His breath hits you on the cheek, too close for your liking. “You know you’ve been opening and closing the same folder for five minutes now, no?”

You hold your breath, trying to regulate your heartbeat. 

He doesn’t say anything else, choosing to focus on what the professor is trying to teach you. However, you know you won’t be paying much attention. 

You can still feel the warmth emanating from him, making you feel hot all over. His closeness is enough to put you on edge. 

Just when you think he won’t be bothering you again, he slides a piece of paper over to you.

You ignore it for about five seconds until you can’t anymore. 

You unfold it. 

‘Your hair is pretty’

It sends a thrill down your spine. The ghost of a smile crossing your face, something inside you making a funny little flip. 

You force yourself to look at him, only to find his gaze already on you. The blonde stranger tilts his head and observes you for a while, and when you don’t know what to do, and afraid of giving away how flustered you really are, you simply roll your eyes as an answer, immediately going back to paying attention, or pretending to. But the professor is nowhere to be seen and everyone is picking up their things to get out of there as fast as possible. 

Finally. 

You pack up your own things, slipping his note inside your notebook without him noticing, and stand up ready to run away. 

You only make it out of the lecture hall before he falls into step with you.

“Hey, you forgot this.” He shoves the pen into your face, almost making you trip over your own feet. 

“You can have it.” You walk a little faster, but it seems he doesn’t want to leave you alone. “Pretty sure you need it more than me.” It’s just a whisper, a comment for yourself more than for him. 

“Uh, feisty!” 

You stop, turn around and take a deep breath. Plastering a smile on your face, you say, “You are annoying.” And it seems that you amuse him, because he fights back a smile. A very pretty smile, you notice. “Goodbye.”

“I’m Max, by the way!”

“I don’t care!” You’re not proud, but he totally deserves the middle finger you give him.

He doesn’t need to know but you’re glad you can put a name to that handsome face.

You check your texts as you make your way to the ice rink and, as expected, a message from your brother awaits you. 

[17:45] Oscar: Something special you want for dinner today?

It’s cute how much he cares about you. Maybe too much sometimes, but you wouldn’t trade your twin and overprotective brother for anything in the world. Even if it means you have to put up with the hundreds of text messages and death glares directed at anybody who dares to even look at you.

“Texting a boyfriend?”

You look at Max from the corner of your eyes; he’s still walking a few feet behind. “Are you following me?”

He laughs. “Why would I be following you?”

“You’re weird.” 

“I’ve been called worse.”

How can someone be so attractive and annoying at the same time? 

Unfortunately, he’s headed the same way. 

“Are you on the hockey team?” If you slow down to wait for him, well, who can blame you?

He cocks his head and the edge of his mouth quirks up in a smirk. “Why? Are you into hockey players?”

“You can’t have a normal conversation, can you?”

Max laughs, opening the front doors and moving to the side to let you in first. 

“Yes, I’m on the hockey team.” Max chuckles, “Are you on the hockey team?”

“My brother,” You answer him, and Max raises his eyebrows. “His name’s Oscar. Do you know him?”

“Are you asking me if I know my own teammate?”

Your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. You’ve never felt so stupid talking to someone before, but that’s exactly how this guy makes you feel. Have you forgotten how to talk or he just loves being an idiot and getting under your skin? 

“Max!” 

Both of you turn around to find a curly-haired boy waving in your direction.

You recognize the bright, brown eyes of Lando Norris immediately. 

“Hey, Y/N!” He says when you approach him, putting his arm around your shoulder. “I see you’ve met Max.”

You nod, “Yes. He’s in one of my classes.” Max winks at you. He has the audacity to wink. “Are you on the hockey team too?”

“Oh nah, that’s not for me. Max is actually my roommate.” Lando explains as Max leans against the side of the bleachers beside you. “I’m here as his moral support.”

Max laughs. A full belly-laugh. 

Your head snaps at him so fast, you nearly give yourself whiplash. 

“Anyway,” Lando’s eyes widen, like silently saying something to his friend, before turning to look back at you. “Are you here to see your brother?”

“Yes. I don’t know anything about hockey, though.”

“Don’t worry. I don’t either. I’m here to see the hot guys.” You laugh at how honest he is. “You got plans tonight?” Lando asks after a few minutes, getting comfortable on the bleachers beside you, seeing some of the players getting out of the changing rooms. 

“I don’t know if Oscar has something planned, but I don’t think so.” You fold your arms over your chest, feeling a little cold. “Why? Do you have something in mind?”

“I know this pub that serves the best Guinness in town.” He states, nudging you. “You and your brother should come.”

You shrug. It is a very appealing invitation after all, and after your first day of classes you definitely deserve it. “It sounds like a place I want to know.”

“Great!” Lando claps his hands together, then looks at his friend. “You should join us too, Max.”

Please say no, you think. 

Max shrugs. “Sounds good to me.”

Great. Just great.

“I’m gonna get ready before the coach starts screaming at me again.” Max interrupts, a lopsided grin on his face. “Pleasure to meet you, Piastri.” He bows, like one of those Lords in a period drama, tilting his head up a little and winking once again, making your heart stop for a second. 

He disappears before you have time to think about something witty to say. 

You look back at the ice rink, spotting your brother from a distance. He sees you almost immediately, and waves at you with enthusiasm. You wave back, a soft smile spreading across your features.

Well, you have an hour to come to terms with spending the afternoon with the most annoyingly attractive, blonde haired and blue eyed boy you’ve ever met. What’s the worst that could happen?

✶ TAGLIST — @14fa. @hiireadstuff. @lolzblues55. @maifics. @littlegrapejuice. @landoslutmeout. @nikfigueiredo. @nciolisa. @rafexoxo. ✶

GWEN RAMBLES — well, hello! thank you so much if you made it this far. i don’t know when the next chapter will be posted. i’m already working on it, but it may take me a few days. if you want to be added to this series taglist you can reply to this post, send me a dm or leave it in my ask box! as you know, comments & reblogs are greatly appreciated. i’ll see you in the next update!

do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own. | © verstappen-cult, 2024.

[ohbueckers]

TWO CAN PLAY THAT GAME. i’m not scared of it, she ain’t either.

CHAPTER SIX! pairing, paige bueckers x teammate!oc. notes, hey… writers block got my ass but i’m backkk. decided this fic will be split into two separate parts (ish) the 22-23 season is mostly just lore filling but hopefully still enjoyable, and then the second will be 23-24. enjoy sugarsss warnings, sexual content.

october, 2022

“shots on me!”

my head shoots up to find the source of the sound, and of course, it’s paige. she’s basking in the sudden attention so well you’d be surprised that we had to convince her to come. the whole table cheers like it’s the greatest news they’ve heard all night, and i watch, a faint smile on my face as she strolls over to the bar, keeping her promise.

i lean back in my chair, adjusting my neck that had just been previously broken to look back at her. i glance over at the propped up phone in front of ice, the tiktok livestream running with a small handful of views climbing by the minute. i grin, dramatic, before draping both of my arms over ice’s shoulders and resting my head against her, leaning into the moment. “guys, pour one up for isuneh staying responsible tonight!” i joke, exaggerating my voice.

ice laughs, nudging me with her elbow but not enough to push me off. “you gotta chill,” she says, turning slightly toward the camera with a smirk. “you see what i have to deal with? sana thinks she’s funny.”

i glare at her, playfully removing my arms from around her. “know so,” i retort.

before i can settle back into the noise of the room, nika and aubrey have made their way over, and are now fully invested in entertaining the growing comments. they start playing it up, making faces and gesturing wildly at the camera while ice chuckles, leaning into it all. sober or not, it was really easy to have a good time with this team.

i let myself sink into my own world for a moment, head spinning just slightly as i pull out my phone again, this time to stare at the birthday post i’d put up for paige earlier. i didn’t want to stare at it, but it had been getting a lot of traction. the first slide is a video from one of our late-night sessions at the gym—a grainy shot of paige casually sinking a full-court shot, her back to the camera. she’d turned around just in time to see the ball swish clean through the net, flashing that smug smile she always gave when she knew she was about to show off. it was late, maybe around midnight, and i remember being just tired enough to think i might’ve imagined it if i hadn’t caught it on film.

when the video ended, my other post appeared. it was a photo from the first official day of practice earlier in october that the media team had took and posted. paige, clad in her #5 workout tee had my head snuggled in between her arms, smiling wide as ever, while i on the other hand had one hand wrapped around her torso, the other on my side, smiling all picture-perfect.

a great resemblance of our dynamic if you asked me.

the caption had been simple enough. happy birthday to this blonde lady i found. backcourt next year will go braaazzzy 🏆. i didn’t think much of it, really, but the more i thought about it, the more insane it must’ve looked that sana caruso was now all buddy-buddy with paige bueckers.

not acquainted, friends.

i smiled at it for another beat before locking my phone, leaning back against the chair with a sigh. i’d been distant most of the night, i suppose. practice earlier hadn’t exactly gone the way i wanted it to, and it was messing with me. paige might’ve been injured, but i was starting, and expectations were high—higher than usual this season, which i hadn’t completely came to terms with yet, and i needed to. soon.

“sana, you’re going to be a huge part of this team this year. we need you to step up—not just as a scorer, but as a leader.” geno’s voice was gruff, his eyes on mine. “you’ve got it in you, but you’ve been holding back. let’s see the player we recruited. the one we know you are.”

sure it wasn’t meant to be much more than a pep talk, but i’m way too much of an over thinker for words like those not to stick. i have been holding back. i do need to step up for a team that had just become mine.

lost in that thought, i didn’t notice paige approaching until a shot glass slid in front of me, barely stopping before it hit my hand.

“i meant you too, ruso,” she said, a sly grin spreading across her face as she leaned in, making sure i knew she was talking to me.

i grinned at her, realizing i hadn’t been drinking as much as the others tonight. not that it was a bad thing—after practice earlier, i needed to keep my head straight—but then again, this was paige’s birthday. maybe it was time to let loose a little, and paige was good at that.

“what is it?” i asked, lifting the glass to my lips and tipping it back easily before getting an answer.

much to my dismay, i probably should’ve waited for paige’s response. vodka. i coughed lightly as the burn hit, squeezing my eyes shut for a second as the heat rushed through me. of course, she’d pick the strongest thing on the menu. i should’ve known better.

paige laughed, eyes following mine as she watched me recover. “you good, ma? thought you could hang with me.”

i shook my head, glaring at her. “i can hang. just didn’t expect gasoline.”

she leaned in closer, her breath warm against my neck. “that’s the point. birthday girl gets the good stuff.” i can feel her eyes on me, following my movements as she pipes up, “why you been wall sittin’ all night?”

i chuckle, looking up at her taller figure through my lashes. only for a moment though. my attention drifted back to the empty shot glass in front of me, twirling it absentmindedly between my fingers. “don’t worry about me,” i shoo her playfully. “my phone’s been blowing up, though. let’s talk about that,” i then state simply, raising an eyebrow.

paige smiles smugly, letting out a breathy laugh. “you know they eat that shit up.”

i smile, too—shaking my head. “yeah, maybe. or they just like you too much.”

paige grabs hold of the shot glass, forcing my attention to advert to her. “you like me too much.”

our eyes met, and i caught how she sized me up. her blue eyes were dangerously low, almost hungry. the heat from the vodka wasn’t just in my throat anymore; it was creeping up my neck, and i didn’t know if it was from the alcohol or from the way paige was watching me. her tongue darted out, swiping across her lips, and i needed to get out of this chair.

like, now.

i swallowed—not visibly as i pushed past the sudden tension and mumbled, “c’mon.” i motioned toward the bar. paige smirked, lips glistening from her spit as she held her hand out for me to take, and i hesitated for just a second before sliding my hand into hers.

she helped me down from the bar stool easily, her opposite steadying me, and then we were strolling over together, her fingers still loosely wrapped around mine. it was so normal, like it didn’t mean anything, but we both knew it did.

we strolled over to the bar, and paige was quick to order another round. things felt relatively normal at first, just the two of us, but only got worse after every shot. i’d even taught paige that the real culprit for a night like this wasn’t vodka but tequila. naturally, she’d laughed me off, but the alcohol in my bloodstream had me ordering a mojito, daring her to try it. paige, never one to back down from a challenge, grabbed the glass from my hand before i could even take a sip.

“you’ve been over here way too long,” i said, my voice lower now, the words slipping out with a hint of something i couldn’t quite control. i leaned against the bar, chin propped up in my hand. “it’s your birthday.”

paige raised a brow. her back was against the bar, her eyes flashing as she looked ahead, shrugging. “i’m exactly where i wanna be.”

i licked my lips. “right. and that’s stuck over here with me?” i shouldn’t have asked. i knew the answer.

paige turned toward me, leaning one arm against the counter, her body now fully angled in my direction. “yeah, somethin’ like that. that a problem?”

her gaze dropped to my lips for a second, just long enough to make me forget how to breathe properly. i shifted, trying to keep cool, but she was too damn close now. “guess not,” i muttered.

“good,” she murmured back immediately, her lips curving into that half-smile. there was this constant back and forth between us—like some game of who would have the upper hand of the day, and right now, it was paige. it was all paige.

her eyes flicked down again, and i internally wanted to curse at her. my throat tightened—but i couldn’t look away. “paige—“ i started, and my voice was barely there.

“yeah?” she asked, eyes still locked on me. every inch of her body screamed focus, intent.

“we should regroup.” i nodded towards our teammates, but paige was stilled.

“right.”

i swallowed hard, knowing exactly where this was headed, feeling the pull in the pit of my stomach. “we can’t do this here,” i whispered, a last-ditch effort to keep my head straight as i began chewing on my bottom lip. we were even closer now, and i couldn’t comprehend when that had happened either.

paige smirked, tilting her head and blinking slowly. the gold chain that sat so nicely on her chest swung slightly as she shifted her weight. my mind was racing, trying to remind myself of all the reasons why this was a bad idea—why i shouldn’t, why we couldn’t. “why not?”

i swallowed. my throat was dry. “people. the team.”

paige furrowed her eyebrows, nodding like it was obvious. “oh, yeah. for sure.” but she didn’t budge. and i swore she was moving closer.

before i could stop myself, i sighed out, almost dreamily, like i’d had some pressure built up. “but i wanna.” damn that fucking vodka.

paige nodded, eyes glued to my lips. “mhm? wanna what, ma?”

and before i could come up with a response that was any less desperate than the last to redeem myself, before i could stop myself, i closed the gap.

━━━

her lips were soft. softer than that night in the car if that were possible.

we were stumbling, half-laughing, half-drunkenly colliding down an empty hallway, our hands everywhere and nowhere all at once. my back hit the wall first, and her body pressed into mine, the weight of her against me felt… perfect. sana’s hands were in my hair, pulling slightly, like she absolutely needed to feel me, and i wasn’t about to complain.

i could feel the cool tile behind me, but all that mattered was the heat between us. my hand slid up her neck, fingers resting just under her jaw, and i heard her gasp against my lips. fucking perfect.

“fuck,” i muttered between kisses, my voice a little more breathless than i wanted it to be. “you kiss like you been waitin’ on this.”

she laughed softly, the sound vibrating against my lips. “maybe i have.”

i pulled back just enough to see her eyes, barely able to catch my breath. my hand tightened around her neck as i leaned in again, dragging my lips across hers, speaking right against her skin. her skin was damp, mine too, probably. “you know you could’ve had this whenever you wanted it, baby.”

she didn’t pull back, just let her hands explore the length of my torso. “couldn’t have. you’re you.” sana’s grip on my hips tightened, pulling me flush against her as she pressed her lips back to mine. this time, there was no holding back. the kiss deepened, hungry, like she was making up for all the times she thought she couldn’t. i let her take what she wanted, but damn if i wasn’t right there with her, needing her just as badly.

“bathroom?” i mumbled. my mouth moved to her neck, peppering kisses down her skin, tasting the heat of her pulse.

sana’s breath hitched, and she nodded, her hands gripping the back of my shirt. “bathroom, yeah.”

luckily, it was empty. it was a thursday after all. we barely made it inside before i was hoisting her up, my hands gripping her thighs as she arched on the counter. the brighter light in here felt like a spotlight, like there was no hiding now—not that either of us wanted to. her breath hitched as i moved my mouth lower, kissing down her neck, my fingers sliding into the waistband of her jeans and hastily pulling them down.

i dropped to my knees without warning, and i could feel sana tense under my hands, her breath coming out in quick, shallow bursts as i knelt in front of her. our eyes locked, and i swear i’d never seen a prettier sight. my fingers skimmed up her thighs, spreading them wider, my lips brushing just below her waistband. i didn’t say anything—didn’t need to. her own hands gripped the counter beside her, knuckles turning white, like she was holding herself steady for what was about to come next.

i dipped my head, my mouth meeting her with no more waiting, no teasing. sana’s body jolted, and the sound she made—it sent a jolt straight through me. she tried to stifle it, biting her lip, but there was no hiding how much she wanted this.

her hips shifted forward instinctively, and i didn’t let up, pulling her closer, needing to feel every little reaction i could get. i let her legs drape over my shoulders, my hands gripping her thighs tighter as i took my time—and God, does she taste like a fucking fruit.

i felt her hands in my hair, tugging at the strands, and that’s when i pulled back just enough to speak, my voice low and rough, “had me thinkin’ you were innocent…” i couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at my lips as i dove right back in, the taste of her driving me crazy. “nah… you a freak.”

sana’s breath hitched again as her head fell back against the mirror, eyes squeezing shut. “paige,” she whined out. her expression moved into a laugh as she tugged at my hair a little harder, like she’d just comprehended what i’d said. “shut the fuck up,” she managed, her voice shaky, breaking in the middle like she was losing control.

i chuckled against her, looking up, the vibration of it making her squirm. i didn’t stop. not until she was too far gone to care about anyone else but us.

“yes, ma’am.”

november, 2022

paige bueckers is eye-fucking me from across the room, and i’m not sure how to feel about it.

we’re sitting in the film room, going over footage from yesterday’s home-opener, a complete blowout. 98 to 39. my stats were setting the bar incredibly high for the season, and as much as i hate to admit it, the sex definitely helped. paige helped.

but why did it have to be her?

coach was talking, his voice fading in and out as he pointed at the screen, circling plays and highlighting our best moments, but my mind was elsewhere. i glanced over in her direction, prepared to make some kind of face that would shoo her off, but she was already looking away, pretending to be interested in geno’s lecture. like she hadn’t just been burning holes through me five seconds ago.

instead, i caught nika’s eyes, and she had this mischievous look on her face, one eyebrow quirked as she stuck her tongue out playfully. it was enough to pull a giggle out of me, and i quickly covered my mouth, trying to keep it discreet. nika grinned wider, clearly pleased with herself.

eventually, geno wrapped everything up, and everyone started to head out. either to class, or any other relevant plans, but there was a 99% chance we’d be back in each other’s apartments at some point tonight. perks of getting housing in the exact same complex of your team.

i grabbed my bag, slinging it over my shoulder as i waltzed toward the door. i was ready to get out of there and clear my head, but just as i reached the hallway, i heard footsteps behind me. paige. of course.

“headed somewhere, ruso?” paige’s voice came from just behind me.

i glanced over my shoulder, smirking. “library back on campus to study. what’s your excuse?”

she shrugged, stepping closer, and for a second, i thought she might’ve followed me just for this. “i gotta hit PT a few doors down.”

i glanced down at her knee, but i didn’t say anything. paige didn’t talk about her injury often, but she didn’t have to. her comeback was the only thing that mattered. getting healthy and back on the right track. “right, gotta keep those muscles working,” i replied, playing into that teasing tone she held.

“seeeee, exactly,” she shot back, grinning from ear to ear. “especially since you been keeping me busy. can’t have a repeat of—“

i throw a hand over her mouth, glancing back to make sure no one was behind us. everyone must’ve taken the shorter exit; i was practically walking her to physical therapy at this point.

paige, never one to let an opportunity slide, licked my hand, making me jump back with a startled laugh as she giggled. “paige!” i yelped, immediately wiping her slobber on her own arm, in which she gradually accepted.

a literal kid.

“my bad, go ahead and finish,” she urged.

“we need some rules.” i looked to her, and she didn’t look any bit of phased.

that was before she raised her eyebrows, interest clearly piqued. “that’s necessary?”

i began to chew on my bottom lip. “i mean, i’ve never done this before. and you seem… i don’t know. experienced.”

she laughed, eyes widening in shock, but i swear it was fake. “you tryna call me a slut?”

there was a brief silence, and i met her gaze, unable to suppress a smirk. “if the shoe fits.”

her mouth fell agape, although i wasn’t sure why it was such a surprise. wasn’t she the one practically engaged in hookup culture? “sorry? i don’t think i heard you correctly.”

“if the kobe’s fit, bueckers!” i yelled into her ear.

she pulled back, laughter spilling out of her as she shook her head, clearly caught off guard. “wowww, okay. i see how it is.”

i rolled my eyes at her playfully, struggling to get back on topic. “look, all i’m saying is that if we’re gonna keep doing this,” i continued, “i need to know what’s off-limits.”

“like what?” she pressed.

i thought for a moment, letting her words settle in for a beat. “like, are we keeping it casual? or should i be expecting breakfast in bed after a night of… whatever this is?”

paige chuckled, her eyes flickering to the ground for a moment before she looked back at me. “i mean, i’d love to make you breakfast, but that’s only if you’re willing to stay the night.”

what did that even mean? that’s not fucking casual at all. was she just joking? “maybe i am.” my response was cautious, although my heart was racing a bit at the thought. at least my brain was still quick-witted. “but let’s make sure we’re on the same page first.”

she nodded, a serious expression overtaking her normally playful for just a second. we stopped in front of the PT room, and i glanced inside before giving her a look, indicating that i should probably go.

paige licked her lips, tilting her head up in my direction as she slung the physical therapy door open. “aight, fair enough. i’ll call you later.”

[venus-haze]

You're My Best Friend (Homelander x Reader)

Summary: Homelander was a test tube baby, raised in isolation in a cold, clinical lab. But that doesn’t inspire America, does it? Vought tasks you with creating the idyllic backstory for its hero, and what starts as a limited comic run spirals out of control when Homelander himself demands your help in making the story a reality.

Note: Gender neutral reader, but no other descriptors are used. Based on a request by @crash-and-cure as well as a bastardization of one of the sweetest love songs ever written (sorry, John Deacon!) This got kinda meta? Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Emotional manipulation, I guess some gaslighting on Homelander’s part? Do not interact if you’re under 18.

When Vought hired you to create their long-awaited Homelander origin comic series, you were thrilled—until they gave you so little information about his childhood to work with, you weren’t even sure you could come up with one comic, let alone the ten they requested. The details about his childhood were minimal, not even a full printed page—a loving mom and dad, played baseball, did well in school, strong sense of justice from a young age, his friends called him “Johnny.” Your requests to meet with Homelander so you could get some stories from the man himself were constantly denied.

You almost considered dropping the project, until you decided to throw caution to the wind and pull from your own childhood and set it in good ol’ generic suburbia. Some of the storylines were based on your own experiences or things that had happened to people you’d grown up with, though you changed enough names and details to not link it to anyone in particular. Except yourself, of course. Using a pseudonym professionally meant you felt no need to change your own name in the comics. Sure, making your cooler fictionalized self Homelander’s childhood best friend was a bit self-indulgent, but no one would know, really.

To your relief, the editors at Vought loved your ideas, making minor changes before bringing the storylines to their comic artists to bring it to life. The result was Finding Homelander: A Boy’s Journey To Be a Hero. The issues flew off shelves when they were first released, ironically praised for their relatability and authenticity. Vought extended your contract, asking you to produce the cartoon adaptation and another ten issues.

Still, in all of that, you’d never met Homelander. A representative from Vought emailed you to let you know to tune in to his interview on a talk show one day, saying that he’d be talking more about the cartoon project on it. You recognized the host, Tracey, always chipper and having some extravagant giveaway for her audience members. Daytime TV was never your thing, though.

“I think what resonates with so many people is how relatable your childhood is,” Tracey said, holding up a copy of Finding Homelander issue #3, where he saved ‘you’ from getting hit in the face with a baseball at one of his games, catching it with ease. It’d been the happy ending to a short storyline of him struggling to find his place on the team and you encouraging him to not give up. “You and Y/N were pretty close, do you still keep in touch?”

“You know, Tracey, not as much as I’d like, unfortunately. Adulthood can be so busy, you need to cherish those childhood memories,” Homelander said. “I did give them a call when the comics first came out, and wow, the laughs we had over those old antics of ours. Talk about a walk down memory lane!”

You guessed the bullshitting was all part of the promotional circuit for Homelander. Knowing this childhood of his was your own fabrication, you couldn’t help but wonder what else about him was fake. Maybe he wanted to maintain his privacy, you could certainly understand that. You couldn’t shake the voice in the back of your mind that said it wasn’t so simple, that the narrative Vought pushed was a cover to hide something in Homelander’s past.

“Now, I’ve heard rumors of a cartoon show based on the comics in the making, is this true?”

“It is! I’m excited for this project, getting back to my ‘roots’ so to speak. I’ll be voicing myself, of course, but it’s funny you’d bring up Y/N, because they’ve agreed to voice themself, too.”

“How fun!” Tracey exclaimed over the roar of the talk show crowd’s applause and cheers. “I guess this is the hopeless romantic in me, but I hope this reconnection leads to something a little more. I’m just a sucker for childhood sweethearts!” 

Homelander laughed along with the host’s giggles, “Well, you never know.”

You balked at the television, mouth agape. Surely he couldn’t be talking about you. ‘Y/N’ could be anyone with your same features. Vought had probably hired a professional voice actor for the role and were pushing the authenticity angle. The whole situation felt odd. 

When you checked your work email again on your phone, you nearly dropped it on the floor. 

SUBJECT: Meeting with Homelander This Week

The email contained a list of days and times throughout the week wherein Homelander would be free, apparently wanting to meet you to thank you for the success of the comic series and discuss upcoming work. Yeah. That last part you sure as hell wanted to discuss too. You responded with the soonest time available, in a meeting room in Vought Tower the following evening. As soon as you hit ‘send’, you wondered what exactly you were getting yourself into.

Anticipation filled your gut as you went about your day leading up to meeting the supe himself. What would he be like, really be like? Was there even a version of Homelander that wasn’t hopelessly manufactured for the masses? You knew then that his upbringing was a lie, and thus stood the probability that so much else was, too. 

When you stepped into that meeting room, you hadn’t been expecting his face to light up at the sight of you. 

“Homelander, hi, it’s great to—“

“No need to be so formal, Y/N! You can call me Johnny, just like old times,” he said cheerfully, in on a joke you clearly hadn’t been aware of.

“Sorry, Johnny,” you said, playing along. “It’s great to see you again.”

He pulled you in for an unexpected hug that you returned. “Figured we should catch up before things really start getting crazy, don’t you think?”

You nodded, your nose brushing against him as you did so. Just as your lips parted to offer an apology, he smiled, shooing away the assistant who’d accompanied him out of the room. 

He sat down, motioning for you to do the same.

“Gotta say, I’m a fan of your work,” he said.

“Thank you,” you said. “I’m not sure I understand exactly what’s going on, though.”

“What’s there to understand? I’m not allowed to know more about my best friend, our lives together growing up?”

“How did you know it was me?”

“Wasn’t hard for me to put two and two together, but considering everyone else around here has their head up their asses, they have no idea,” he said, before lowering his voice conspiratorially and giving you a charming smile. “I haven’t told anyone. What’s a secret between friends?”

You nodded, overwhelmed by the intensity of his attention on you. “What do you want to know?”

He sighed, resting his head on his hand. “Everything.”

So you told him. Not quite everything, of course, but enough to abate his curiosity. At least for the time being. His interviews were sharper, more specific with details rather than rattling off whatever had been in the comics. You watched in shock as convincing photos of his Little League days were posted to his social media accounts, anecdotes provided by his increasingly frequent conversations–or more like interrogation sessions–with you, but in his style, of course. It was almost scary what the graphic design team at Vought could accomplish, not that you’d ever know how, exactly, as they were all under the same strict NDA that you were.

He started spending more time with you, too, and after a while, it did seem like you were old friends. Part of you flinched whenever you called him Johnny, because Johnny wasn’t even real, but with your complacency, this fabrication was slowly morphing into a strikingly tangible memory. With each conversation, he drew you deeper into the world you’d been paid to create for him until you found yourself slipping up.

You’d been showing him a goofy stuffed monkey on your desk, a cute little thing with big sparkling eyes. A prize for getting two out of three at the ring toss. Probably spent more money winning it than it was actually worth, but it was about the effort, the memories made.

“You remember, don’t you? You won it for me at the county fair,” you said without thinking.

He laughed in agreement, as if he actually had. Except he hadn’t. Your high school boyfriend won it for you a week before graduation. Sensing the mood shift, he set down your prize and looked at you with the same intensity he had when you first met.

“It’s been a while since we were there, huh?” he said. “Why don’t we go back?”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Go where?”

“Home.”

With a strong arm around your waist, he took off for your hometown. You could hardly tell which way was up or down, he was flying so high, but he didn’t seem to mind the way you clung to him at all. When he finally landed, you recognized the community baseball field where all of his fictional games were set. 

“Geez, it’s like nothing’s changed,” he said cheerfully.

You looked at him in disbelief. How long was he going to expect you to go along with it? Or maybe the question you should have been asking was, how long were you going to enable him? The end wasn’t anywhere in sight as he took your hand, and you walked him through your childhood, further enmeshing him in it until you arrived at the house you grew up in. 

The middle of the day, no one was home, and so you let yourselves in like you owned the place. Suddenly, the house seemed too small for a man like Homelander to occupy, but he was engrossed in the details of it. He scanned the kitchen, no doubt inspecting the contents of the fridge and cabinets with his x-ray vision. Moving onto the living room, he stared at photos on the wall, the magazines and DVDs that were strewn on the coffee table, giving away your parents’ taste in entertainment.

“Which one was your room again?” he asked.

You swore you could feel his breath on the back of your neck as you wordlessly led him to your room. Each step down the hall felt dangerous, as if you were about to walk into a trap. Face-to-face with the closed door, you opened it, standing aside while Homelander looked around, from what you had hanging on the walls to the knick-knacks you’d left behind.

An uncomfortable tension settled over the room when Homelander closed the door of your childhood bedroom. An odd blend of hurt and amusement spread across his face as he observed the way you were eyeing him, body ready to fruitlessly run from him the way a rabbit would a hawk.

“C’mon, after how long we’ve been friends, I would never hurt you,” he said, as if reading your mind. “We’ve been through so much together. I mean, we were each other’s first kiss.”

You froze. Issue #9. That was something Vought’s editors had added, claiming a romance angle would make the series appeal to the younger female demographic. You hadn’t thought much of it at the time.

He slyly backed you into the wall, leaning over you as you slinked down the slightest bit.

“Show me how we did it,” he whispered, his hand caressing your cheek. “So clumsy and nervous, I can even feel you…quivering.”

“Homelander, I don’t know what you’re—“

He tsked. “Y/N.”

You let out a shaky breath, “Johnny—“

He hummed in satisfaction. “It’s alright. I know it’s been a while.”

You let him kiss you, sweetly in a way that put your actual first kiss to shame. His lips were soft against yours, his tender movements intentional as he cradled your face, pulling you the slightest bit closer to him when you kissed him back. 

A sense of familiarity settled over you, warm and comforting like pulling a blanket out of the dryer on a chilly evening. Every time it seemed like you were beginning to overthink the situation with Homelander, he drew you back in with the kiss, a more than effective distraction until you pulled away with a dazed smile on your face.

[animasola86]

🦇 FANGS TO REMEMBER

m!vampires x f!reader 🔥 very explicit 🔥 words: 3.6k

On your way back to the party, you come across a graveyard. Unbeknownst to you, you are trespassing onto someone's property, and they are not happy about it. Or are they?

WARNINGS: NSFW! Explicit sexual content! Vampires! Noncon/dubcon! Threesome! Spitroasting! Biting! (READ ON AO3!)

A/N: This is part 5 of my CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE smut series! 1 🔸 2 🔸 3 🔸 4 🔸 5 🔸 6 🔸 7 This is the continuation of OPTION 3/PART 4 - but can be read individually, let me just set the scene:

CONTEXT: You were invited to a Halloween party in a mysterious house, dressed as Little Red Riding Hood, and after drinking a strange drink, you decide to get some fresh air, running into a werewolf who instantly decides to knot and breed you, and after that ordeal is done, you flee from him, and come across a graveyard...

ADDITIONAL WARNING: This one is very dark. It's more noncon than dubcon, so if you don't like the themes, you can skip it (imagine something dark happening) and read the next part here.

You look around, but there's only one way forward: through the graveyard. It's too dark to see anything else, no maze, no garden, no house, you can't even see the cabin anymore you just left. The night is eerily quiet, no critters, nothing. Even the wind seems to take a break for now.

Inhaling deeply, you hug your arms around your body and take a step through the large wrought-iron gates, looking left and right at the rows of crooked tomb stones. A strange mist wafts close to the ground, giving off an otherworldly glow. The moon is long gone it seems, the sky too cloudy to show any stars, but still you can see the various shapes around you.

You're not easily spooked, usually, but being alone in a cemetery at night makes your imagination run wild, wilder than it has been all evening. The slightest movement makes you flinch as you tread carefully along the path, goosebumps rippling over your exposed skin whenever something brushes against your bare legs. The shirt is soft and warm, but in the end not long enough after all, no matter how hard you tug at its hem.

A sudden shuffling sound makes your blood run cold and you freeze on the spot, your heart beating out of your chest, cold fear gripping your limbs. It came from behind one of the larger tomb stones, decorated with a small angel statue. You stare into the darkness, pressing your lips together to keep the noises from spilling past them. Probably just an animal. Your mind is surely playing tricks on you.

But when the same sound comes from right behind you, you whirl around with a shriek, stumbling back as you see a large black shadow blocking your view. You expect to fall onto your butt, but something keeps you from it, another shadow – and this one has hands. Hands that grip your arms, holding you tightly. Another scream rips from your throat as you thrash about, trying to get away, before another hand finds its way to your mouth, muffling all the noises you want to let out.

Your eyes are wide when the shadows around you form into the shapes of two big men, pale in the eerie light, tall and muscular, dressed surprisingly well for creatures that lurk in the dark.

“What do we have here?” the one with his hand on your mouth says, tilting his head, giving you a smile that makes his handsome face look almost diabolical. “A little rabbit? In our cemetery?”

“Did you get lost, little one?” the other man, the one behind you, whispers as he leans his head closer, rubbing his smooth cheek against yours. It's cold to the touch.

You stiffen, unable to do or say anything. Maybe you're still dreaming, or again. But the way these men grab you feels too real. They are strong. Intimidatingly so. You swallow hard, gasping when the one behind you gives you a deep sniff.

“Ugh, she reeks of dog,” he says with a drawl. “Had some fun with the beast, didn't you?”

Suddenly you feel a hand between your legs, a cold touch, coaxing a muffled yelp out of you as you feel probing fingers right against your warm crotch. “Huh, yeah, he got to her alright. Filled to the brim...” He pulls his fingers away and raises them to your face, and you can see the thick substance coating them. “Too bad, really, I was looking forward to ravaging that sweet cunt...”

You glare at him, both in shock and indignation. He pulls his hand from your mouth and shoves his soiled fingers between your lips. A muffled grunt of protest slips from your throat, but your attempts to get away are futile as the other man still holds your arms tightly. A bitter and slightly salty taste fills your mouth, but with how the man presses his digits onto your tongue you can't do anything but flick it around them, licking them clean.

“At least she seems quite obedient,” he muses with a menacing tone, watching you closely, moving his fingers in and out of your mouth.

“We can still have some fun with her,” the man behind you says quietly, his nose nuzzling your neck. “He hasn't marked her yet. She's fair game.”

“Splendid,” the other replies with a laugh and pulls his fingers away with a wet popping sound. You quickly swallow the spit gathered on your tongue and lick your quivering lips. “So, little bunny, do you wanna try to run? I would die for a little hunt... if I wasn't already dead,” he adds with a reverberating laugh that makes you shiver deeply.

You just stare at him, your chest rising and falling faster. “I don't think she'll come far,” the man rubbing his hands over your arms retorts. “She seems weakened. The beast clearly got her good. Let's just enjoy her until her heart gives out, hm?”

You gasp at the implication, immediately silenced by a hand reaching out to grab your chin. “Fine. It is already enough to hear this beautiful beat,” the man in front of you whispers as he leans closer. “Are you scared, rabbit?”

Your eyes dart over his pale face, and when he bares his teeth and licks them slowly, you stare at his pointy canines. After having just met a real werewolf (or so you think, it's all so fuzzy in your head right now), you shouldn't be surprised to meet actual vampires, in a graveyard no less, pale and cold and strong, with sharp fangs and insatiable appetites, but your body still reacts as if you were indeed just a bunny cornered by two predators. A tiny whimper escapes your throat. “Please...”

“Hmm? Please what? Use your words, darling!” the man behind you snarls, rubbing his nose against your neck before you feel his lips on your pulse, nibbling teasingly.

“Please let me go...” you press out.

“Not going to happen, sweetheart,” he replies, his low voice muffled. “You came to us. Walked right onto our property. It's our right to do with you whatever we like...”

You squirm in his hold when he laps his tongue up your neck. The other man watches you, rubbing his thumb over your bottom lip before he suddenly leans closer, pressing his forehead to yours. You gasp, staring at him. “You won't regret it, little one,” he breathes against you. His skin feels cold, but the close proximity makes your cheeks burn up badly. “We'll give you a good time, don't worry your pretty little head!”

And suddenly you are being lifted, nausea rolling over you as you find yourself somehow floating in the air. It's all a blur at this point. Footsteps crunch over gravel and dead leaves, thump against stone plates, old hinges screech as a door is being opened. The fresh air becomes stale and dusty, the light even darker. You move down a set of stairs, but you can't move, your head is swimming, your insides tensing up in a way that borders on painful. You can barely breathe, and you have no idea why.

Candle light flickers to life when the men take you through a large wooden door. Your eyes blink into focus slowly. You seem to be in some sort of mausoleum, old looking, corners full of cobwebs, aged statues lining the walls. In the middle of the round room, there are two stone coffins, both of them open, their heavy stone slabs pushed to the side. You swallow hard, trying to see this as a scene, a decorated room fit for an elaborate Halloween party.

But somehow you doubt this is part of it.

“Excuse the mess,” one of the men says as he walks to the coffins. “We didn't expect company tonight...”

He raises a hand – and as you're being set down on your feet again, you witness how the heavy slab moves seemingly on its own or by a strange unseen force, leaving you even more confused. Both coffins are closed now, and before you can question anything else, you are being draped over the short side of one of them, stomach pressed to the cold stone, arms and legs hanging off the edges. A groan escapes you.

“Let's clean her up first, I can't stand the stink of wolf,” one man says as he steps behind you, pushing your legs further apart. You feel a strange coldness rushing through your body, like water, but not really wet, a sensation that leaves you choking on your own spit. “There, better. Don't you feel better too, darling? No longer stuffed full of disgusting beast semen? Well, I don't want to kink shame or anything, maybe you are into being bred, but we do like our holes squeaky clean – for us to soil all over again.”

You squirm on the stone slab, your hands trying to find purchase on the smooth surface, your legs kicking helplessly, but before you can do anything, the other man steps in front of you, grabbing your chin and lifting your head up. You find yourself face-to-face with his throbbing cock. They don't seem to waste any time, huh? He presses his thumb and finger into your cheeks, forcing your mouth open. You issue a groan of protest that is quickly muffled by his surprisingly warm member. You have no choice but to close your lips around it. (Even if you wanted to bite down on him, you couldn't, his hand is still holding your jaw open.)

“Good bunny, you know what to do, hm?” he tells you, slowly rolling his hips against you, his tip scraping along your gums, teasing at the back of your throat. Saliva pools on your tongue, and you feel the need to swallow it before it drips past your lips. When you do, he groans quietly. “Oh, yes, like that. Do that again.” Somehow his words seem to encourage you, and you swallow around him once more, straining your throat enough for tears to fill your eyes.

Behind you, you feel two cold hands rubbing up and down your thighs, gripping them, pulling them apart, before they slip up your rear and push the large shirt out of the way. “So I assume after your little werewolf ordeal, your poor little cunt is a little tired, wouldn't you agree?” he rasps teasingly. “Good thing you have another hole, huh, my sweet?”

You let out a series of muffled cries around the cock in your mouth when you feel probing fingers between your ass cheeks. “Mhmmnngh!” you croak out, thrashing on the stone slab, trying to get away. A sudden slap on your soft rear makes you howl, but ultimately stops your fidgeting. Your skin burns and throbs horribly. “Shh, relax, rabbit. You can take it. See?”

Before you can react, you feel a strange pressure against your sphincter, a teasing touch but unrelenting, and suddenly you have a finger in your ass. Your tight muscles clench around the thick digit, and you wriggle in your compromised position, almost gagging yourself on the dick between your lips when you push yourself against the man's groin and his cock deeper into your mouth. A jerk goes through your body, your hands fruitlessly trying to hold onto anything.

You don't feel in control of your limbs anymore, it's strange. You can feel everything, but you can't move, only rock back and forth on the coffin. The man behind you pushes his finger deeper, then pulls it out and replaces it with two. The stretch hurts, and you let out a muffled wail. Your noises seem to encourage him when he moves them in and out faster, deeper, a hard press against your protesting muscles.

Meanwhile the man holding your jaw increases the pace of his hips slamming against your face. His cock pushes deep, and you gag violently when he breaches your throat, your body convulsing, spit filling your mouth. He pulls back slightly, allows you to breathe and cough and swallow, but then repeats the motion, and you gag again, and the cycle continues. Your head is spinning by the fifth time he forced his length down your throat, and you feel too weak to protest anymore.

Not even when you notice that the man playing with your ass has added another finger and is plunging his hand hard against your rear, a dizzying rhythm, forceful, stretching you for whatever comes next. You can guess and it scares you. But there's nothing you can do as he suddenly pulls his fingers out with a wet pop and you feel his cockhead pressing against your slightly gaping hole. A deep grunt escapes him when he rocks his pelvis forward, sinking into your depths without mercy, carving his way through your impossible tightness.

Your muffled scream is overpowered by loud gurgling noises as the cock in your mouth pistons in and out fast, always pushing deep, bulging your neck, his crotch slapping into your face with each thrust. You are pushed and pulled, rocked back and forth, impaled front and back, cold hands holding your head up or digging into your hips as the two men use you for their pleasure, their grunts filling the space around you.

Despite their rough handling, you feel a strange heat growing inside you, and you realize that with every slam into your ass or snap into your throat, you are rubbed over the rough stone, and your clit quickly feels raw and swollen from the added stimulation. Moaning into the rapidly moving cock in your mouth, you focus on the good feelings, not the burning friction in your rear, not the rawness of your throat, the lack of air or the helplessness, just the bliss that tries to fight through the pain and discomfort.

But before you can even imagine any edge to fall over, they suddenly slow down, languid strokes that push deep until they stop altogether, one cock buried deep in your ass, the other pushed all the way down your throat as pubic hair tickles your nostrils. Your eyes roll back, your lungs burn, your body spasms fruitlessly. Groans echo in your ear.

“Let's turn her around,” one says.

“You wanna switch places too?” the other replies, almost a little breathlessly.

“Sure, I bet she doesn't mind a little ass to mouth action, huh, sugar?”

A loud slap against your bruised rear makes you gag violently, and as spit fills your mouth and tears stream down your face, you are being rotated on the cold stone slab, arms still hanging limply to the ground while your legs twitch as they're being pushed up and against your heaving chest, opening you up further. Cold air brushes over your exposed skin, and for a short moment they let go of you, cocks pull back, leaving trails of stickiness all over your face and crotch.

You are lightheaded, barely able to function, and that moment of reprieve is short-lived. You didn't even get the chance to swallow or breathe properly before a cock is being shoved back into your mouth. Hands curl around the back of your head, holding it up as the stiff and slimy length is pushed straight into your bruised throat. You can only croak out a muffled grunt before a heavy pair of balls slam against your nose.

“Tongue out,” the man above you orders, and you comply, hoping it'll be easier with your mouth wide open and your tongue extended to guide the throbbing cock in and out. “Good. Just like that. Look at that neck bulging. Ugh,” he continues, groaning as he rams deep into your throat and rests there, cutting off any air flow you may have had earlier. You squirm on the coffin, limbs twitching helplessly.

Before you drift off into unconsciousness, he pulls back and slaps your cheek. The pain drags you back immediately. “No fainting, rabbit, we need you awake for this.” You cough hoarsely, spit and precum flying through the air. You're too weak to open your eyes, and it doesn't matter anyway. His hand is on your neck now, squeezing slightly. “Ahh, yes, listen to that frantic heartbeat,” he rasps, slowly slipping his cock back between your lips. “Are you afraid to choke, hm? Or does that turn you on?”

You gag when he presses into your throat slowly, your whole body jerking against the man on the other side, who's holding your legs open and pressed to your chest. You are allowed to cough and swallow before it happens all over again, again and again, and while one man fucks your throat with reckless abandon, the other rubs his cold hand down your mound, teasing at your swollen clit, parting your puffy labia, but then he dips his finger into your ass, completely ignoring your hungrily clenching cunt.

There's no further preparation, and a moment later he shoves his cock into your tight hole, making you wail against the dick in your throat. He lets go of your legs, causing them to flop about wildly with each thrust as he starts pounding into you hard and fast, then you feel his long fingers on your burrowed shirt. You barely register how it's ripped open, but you do feel those cold palms pressing onto your soft mounds, pebbling your skin, your nipples hardening instantly. The touch is almost soothing among all the other things happening to you.

It's a whirlwind of sensations, the lack of air and strain to your throat and jaw on one side, the rough friction and burning heat and hard pummeling on the other. You are moved back and forth on the stone surface, a limp body to be used. You don't know how long this is going on, but these guys seem to have incredible stamina. They just won't stop.

Whenever you feel as if you're slipping into the welcoming darkness, you are slapped and brought back, your cheeks burning and throbbing, but it's only one of many aches by now. You can't decide which is worse, the suffocating stretch when a cock buries deep into your throat, or the rough pummeling of sore muscles when the other cock rams into your tight ass. It's all a blur in the end.

The men are groaning and grunting, snapping their hips against you, uncaring of your discomforts. They're chasing their own orgasms while you remain teetering far away from any sort of release. The room is filled with loud squelching noises, gurgles and slurps, slapping of skin against skin, a soundscape that seems to be your only form of stimulation. Not even the cold hands on your breasts push you further to the edge, they are just there, holding you, groping hard, anchoring you as you are pushed back and forth.

At least they have a rhythm now, in and out in an alternating way, almost like a seesaw, in goes the one in your throat, out moves the one in your ass, and then it's the other way around. And somehow you find comfort in it as you lie there, held in place, unable to move, your eyelids fluttering, tears and snot drying on your sweat-slick skin.

It's then that you feel cold fingers brushing down your quivering belly, down, down, until they rub against your clit, and you arch your back, inhale that cock in your throat, jerk your hips against the one pounding into your ass, and you come, clenching down hard, stiffening, eyes rolling back, bliss exploding through the veils of darkness.

You feel like floating, leaning into the wave of pleasure that washes over you as you let it all happen. And as you do, the men's motions grow jerkier, rougher, faster, and they come too, almost at the same time. Cum shoots down your throat, and you'd expect to feel the same sensation in your ass, but the man there pulls out and empties himself all over your mound and stomach, all the way to your neck. The pressure in your throat loosens then, and similar spurts of wet warmth hit your face.

Raspy breaths make it past your soiled, swollen lips as you lie there with your eyes closed. Strong hands move you until you're lying fully on your back, legs outstretched, arms put at the sides of your body, head supported by the hard stone slab beneath you. Cold fingers trail your skin.

“I wish we could keep her,” you hear a quiet voice that barely makes it past the cotton in your head.

“I'm not risking another war with those savages just because of one puny human...” says a different voice. “We'll find another one.”

“Let's feed and get her back onto the path.”

You blink your eyes open, noticing the two men, the two vampires, standing over you, staring down at you from both sides of the coffin. Their teeth are bared, fangs glistening in the swaying candle light, and before you can do anything, they lean down, one goes straight for your neck, his pointy canines sinking deeply into your skin, and you feel it, despite your fucked-out state, you feel the cold crashing through your veins.

The same sensation happens between your legs, on one of your inner thighs as the other bites down into your soft flesh. You whimper soundlessly, throat hoarse and sore, body too weak to move against the assault. They suck your blood noisily, like the thirsty monsters they are, and you just let it happen, again, what other choice do you have? Your head is spinning as you feel the cold spread through your trembling limbs.

And the world fades...

1 🔸 2 🔸 3 🔸 4 🔸 5 🔸 6 🔸 7

End notes: The last part is here!

By the way, this is a nod towards my standalone Vampire oneshot Down the Rabbit Hole which also has dubcon elements and more than one vampire, but isn't as dark.

MASTERLIST // AO3 // ORIGINAL WORKS

KINKTOBER 2024 MASTERLIST

[kquil]

JAMES POTTER | 16:49 ⏤ FREE GOODIES

SUM. : you had more baked goods than you were able to sell and decide to give them out for free to the firefighters at your local fire station to say thank you

TAGS. : fluff ; modern au ; muggle au ; baker reader ; firefighter james ; james being a love sick puppy ; he hides it well though ; remus and sirius begin scheming ; everyone knows james is in love ; it's obvious to everyone but you

LENGTH : 1.6k

NOT PROOFREAD OR EDITED

“No! Don’t tell me!” you giggle as the man behind the counter grins widely and laughs along with you, his hazel eyes carefully watching as you bring up a brown paper bag and a steaming take-away cup of coffee, “Our special BLT sandwich and a dark roast, cocoa blend to go,”

“All ready for me, huh?” James teases as you smile innocently. He pays for his order and goes to inspect the contents of the brown paper bag as you move behind the cash register and file away his notes, “And a mini treacle tart!” James’ voice lights up in cheerful surprise when he sees the unexpected treat but hurriedly goes in search for more payment in his wallet. 

“Don’t you dare, James,” you scold light-heartedly, “it’s on the house,” his movements stop and he meets your eyes, ready to retaliate. However, sensing your seriousness, his shoulders slacken and his expression eases into a grateful smile instead. 

“Thanks, you’re an angel,” of course, he couldn’t help but send you a wink. His words spread a heat across your cheeks but you pay it no mind, hoping that any signs of your flustered state can be ignored as long as you didn’t draw attention to it. 

“I know I am~” 

“Take care, angel,” with a toothy grin and a wave, James turns and leaves, his day already looking as bright as could be. 

James has been visiting your little bakery and cafe for the better part of a year now; he’s become one of your beloved regulars, maybe one of your most beloved. He was just too handsome and charming for his own good, cute and sweet and always gentleman with you. His uncontrollable dark curls and round glasses gave him this boyish appeal that you couldn’t help but fall for. His voice is smooth and comforting, his eyes a mesmerising hazel, his lips a pretty shape—

“Hey!” snapping out of your daze, you turn to your co-worker in shock.

“Wh-what?”

She smirks and wiggles her brows at you, “I knew you had a thing for him,”

“Oh shush Leona!” you huff and fold your arms but burn hotter in the cheeks when she laughs at you. 

“No need to deny it, I can see why you’re so head over heels~”

“Is that any way to talk to your boss?” making your way over, you playfully nudge her side as you plant yourself beside her and help with the cupcake decorations. 

Gasping, Leona grasps at her chest in mock offence, “I never believed you were that kind of boss! I was tricked—!” her mock ramblings were cut off with another nudge to her side that sent the both of you into a fit of giggles. 

“What should we do with all this?” you ask with a huff, staring in disappointment at all the leftovers in your display cases. Most would only end up in the trash and it broke your heart to see such goodies go to waste. 

“Why don’t you donate them at the local police station or fire department?” Leona suggests with a smile as she wipes down surfaces, “The fire department isn’t too far from here so you can go there first and do the police station on another day we have extra leftovers,”

Smiling brightly, you nod and get to work, “Brilliant idea Leona! How come I’ve never thought of that before?” 

“Maybe because you’re too busy all the time?” with a light-hearted pout, she faces you and presses on about how you need to consider yourself as a priority for once and actually go home on time. She had a point; the bakery was consuming your life. But you worked hard on the things that mattered to you and that was always a trait you were proud of. Every day you return home with pride and fulfilment in your heart; you loved that feeling despite the ache in your limb. Sighing, your enthusiasm slows considerably but you keep on packing up a random selection of baked goods, “Just think about it at least, boss,” Leona comes up behind you and gives you a quick but heartfelt hug, “we want you to be our boss forever so you have to stay healthy,” just like she always does, she brings a smile to your lips and slowly helps you with packing up the rest. 

With the bakery closed up, you head out with your packaged leftovers piled high in the passenger seat of your car and wave goodbye to Leona before pulling away. She was right in saying that the fire station wasn’t too far, it was a short five-minute drive from your bakery with parking close by too. 

It was a little unnerving. You had never done this before. And, even though you knew there was nothing wrong with doing this, your nerves still caused a stir in your chest and stomach at the thought of facing such brave and dedicated workers. However, it was that simple thought that pushed you forward. These men and women deserved free baked goodies and more for all of their hard work, there was no need to be shy about it. Balancing the stacked packages in your arms, you push the front door open with your back and carefully turn around as you step into the space. 

“Whoa, you need help with those?” someone calls from your left and you turn to see a handsome brunette, standing tall with an almost invisible dusting of freckles on his nose and a faint scar across his cheek and jaw. 

“Good afternoon!” you chirp happily and sheepishly accept his kind assistance, “I— umm, I wanted to give you guys some of the baked goods from my bakery. We made a little too much today,”

He grins widely as he appraises the tall stack of packages before turning to you with gratefulness in his eyes, “So that’s what smells so delicious,” the two of you share a laugh, “Thank you so much for this, it’s very kind of you,” a warm heat coats your cheeks as you shyly wave off his praise, which he shakes his head at discreetly but still maintains his happy grin, “come,” he tilts his head to one direction, “lets go feed everyone,” 

Remus introduces himself as he leads you down a hallway to the lounge room, where he suspected most of his colleagues congregated to. When you give your name in return, he tilts his head and mutters something unintelligible under his breath.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” 

“Oh nothing,” he chuckles softly, “I just thought it sounded familiar,” you had questions but shrugged and shrugged them off as unimportant when the two of you finally made it into the lounge area. Entering the space, you see the firemen scattered around the wide room, a group were playing cards around a table with several spectators, one or two were reading a book while another small group stood by a small kitchenette with steaming mugs, chatting between themselves. 

“Remus!” a dark haired man with a visible neck tattoo walks up from where he stood observing the card game, just so he could sling his arm over the brunette’s broad shoulders, “Who’s our cute guest?”

Remus introduces you and the purpose of your visit but his voice slowly fades into the background as soon as you meet eyes with a very familiar pair of hazel pools. 

“James?” blinking in surprise, you tilt your head and observe the man in his fireman uniform, minus the heavy jacket, leaving him in a black compression shirt to showcase his muscles. It made your cheeks heat up again but hotter. You had no idea how brawny he was with his soft charm and sweet face. But this was a very pleasant surprise. 

The man in question stands up, staring at you as if in a trance and makes his way over as Remus and his raven-haired friend step away with devious grins on their faces. They weren’t the only ones however, everybody else in the room looked on with a similar grin stretching across their lips, slightly leaning forward in their interest. 

“Wh-what are you doing here?” he sounds like he’s choking on air, breathless and in complete disbelief at the sight of you. 

“I uh– there were some leftover goodies at the bakery so I thought I could give them to you guys…as a thank you for all your good work,” you admit softly, staring up at him with timid eyes and watching with a gradually racing heart as a toothy grin takes over his features. His eyes sparkled with mirth under the fluorescent light and your heart skipped a beat in your chest. How does he do that? 

“You’re really too kind,” and so perfect James wanted to finish, ignorant to his friends’ snickering. Please be mine! It was a desperate wish and one that he had been making for a long time but he needed to keep his cool. He understands how overbearing and clingy he could be at times and didn’t want to frighten you.  

“You guys deserve it,” you return and silently hold up your packages with a smile. Happily, he takes the load and leads you to a table where he helps spread them out for his friends and colleagues to take as they please. Everyone around you gushes at the array and sings your praises in between their gratitude for the kind gesture. Amongst all the chatter, you also manage to hear soft whisperings that didn’t quite fit the rest of the words at the forefront of surrounding conversations. 

“That’s the cute baker Jamesie has been gushing about for months now, huh?”

“Seems so. Finally, we can put a name to the face,”

There was some laughter, “He looks like a love sick puppy,”

From the corner of your eye, you observe James and the goofy grin on his face, trapped in a daze as he stares down at you with adoring eyes and a soft blush on his cheeks. In your head, you make a mental note to visit the fire department more often. 

A/N : it just feels right that James is a firefighter, right? i'm not the only one who thinks this? nevertheless, i hopefully managed to convince you lovelies otherwise hehehe~

NAVI.

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