#not to be all ‘I miss the old drag race’ about it

[jungwnies]

wrong time, right person - carlos sainz (1/4)

୨ৎ : pairing : carlos sainz x fem!reader ୨ৎ : synopsis : years after a bitter breakup, you and carlos sainz reunite unexpectedly. old wounds resurface, but so does undeniable love. will history repeat itself?

୨ৎ : genre : romance, angst, humor, drama ୨ৎ : tws : mild language, arguing, friendships ending, bantering, suggestive humor, mentions of alcohol consumption. ୨ৎ : wc : 952

part one | part two | part three | part four

Spain was never supposed to feel like home.

You were just an exchange student, a stranger in a country where the language tripped you up, where conversations flowed around you like a current you couldn’t quite swim in. The other students were nice, polite even, but distant. They smiled, but no one really saw you.

Except for him.

Carlos Sainz wasn’t just friendly; he was relentless. He talked to you like it was the most natural thing in the world, like he had made it his personal mission to make you feel at home. The first time he sat next to you at lunch, he didn’t ask the usual "Where are you from?" or "How do you like Spain?" Instead, he stole a fry from your plate and smirked.

“You always eat this little?”

It took you a second to process what he said, your brain scrambling for the right words. When you did, you narrowed your eyes and stole a fry right back.

“Mind your business.”

He laughed, loud, unapologetic. And just like that, best friends.

He made Spain feel like home. He dragged you to local karting tracks, shoved a helmet on your head, and laughed until he was breathless as you struggled to drive at half his speed. You sat on the asphalt after his races, drinking cheap sodas and listening to him talk about his dreams; Formula 1, podiums, championships. You still remember the way his eyes lit up when he talked about his father, the legendary Carlos Sainz Sr., how he wanted to make him proud.

“You think I can do it?” he asked once, voice quieter than usual.

You scoffed, nudging his shoulder. “I think you’re already doing it.”

And you were right.

He climbed the ranks, and you were right there beside him, just like he was there for you. Modeling started small, with local gigs, small shoots. but soon after, your face was showing up in magazines, whispered about in the industry. The first time you booked an international job, Carlos picked you up and spun you around like it was his victory too.

“You’re gonna be famous,” he said, grinning. “I’m gonna see your face on billboards, aren’t I?”

It was fun, easy, and natural, until it wasn’t.

The higher he climbed, the further away he felt. The more you succeeded, the less you seemed to talk. At first, it didn’t feel like a big deal. You still sent texts, still FaceTimed when you could. But slowly, the missed calls turned into silence, and suddenly, you were watching each other’s successes through headlines instead of in person.

Then, he made it to Formula 1.

And you? You were stepping into high-fashion modeling.

The night it all fell apart wasn’t supposed to be anything special. Just another call that went unanswered. Just another missed "good luck" before a race. But this time, Carlos called back, and he called back angry.

“You don’t even care anymore.” His voice was sharp, cutting straight through your exhaustion.

You blinked, phone pressed to your ear, the weight of his words settling deep into your chest. “What?”

“You heard me,” he snapped. “You missed my race. Again.”

Your stomach twisted. “Carlos, I had a show. You knew that.”

“Right, right,” he said bitterly. “Another shoot, another runway, another excuse. Siempre tienes una razón, ¿verdad?” (You always have a reason, right?)

Heat flared in your cheeks. “Excuse me? Don’t you dare act like you’re the only one with a career! I support you, Carlos, but I have my own dreams too.”

He laughed, but it wasn’t the kind that made your heart feel light, it was sharp, hollow, cold. “Support? ¿Eso es lo que llamas esto?” (Is that what you call this?) “Because it feels a lot like you just don’t give a damn anymore.”

Anger burned hot in your chest. “That’s not fair.”

“No?” His voice dropped, quieter, but somehow even more dangerous. “Entonces dime, when was the last time you actually showed up for me? When was the last time you watched me race, not through a screen, but actually there?”

You opened your mouth, then closed it. Because the answer was obvious. And it wasn’t one you wanted to say out loud.

Carlos exhaled sharply, like he had been hoping, hell, borderline begging, for you to fight him on it. But you couldn’t.

He scoffed. “Eso pensé.” (That’s what I thought.)

Tears burned behind your eyes. “This isn’t fair, Carlos. You’re always traveling, I’m always traveling! What the hell do you expect me to do?”

“I expected you to care.” His voice cracked. Just slightly. But it was enough to break you.

Your breath hitched. “You think I don’t?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted, and that hurt worse than anything else.

Because Carlos always knew. He always understood you, always read between the lines, always saw you even when you felt invisible to everyone else. But now? Now he wasn’t even sure.

The silence stretched between you like an open wound.

And then he said it.

“Quizás sea más fácil así.” (Maybe it’s just easier this way.)

It felt like the wind had been knocked out of you. “What?”

His voice was flat, emotionless. Like he had already given up. “Maybe we’ve just been holding on to something that doesn’t exist anymore.”

You felt something inside you shatter.

Carlos had been your best friend. Your person. Your safe place. But now he was just...just nothing.

“I don’t have time for this.” Your voice was quiet, raw, aching. “I have an early flight.”

He let out a bitter laugh. “Por supuesto que sí.” (Of course you do.)

Neither of you apologized.

Neither of you fought for it.

Neither of you said goodbye.

Carlos left for another race. You left for another shoot.

Neither of you looked back.

Until you were given no choice...

© 2024 jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.

[fall0utmind]

the finale

Chapter 17 is here... it's done.

Guys, i CANNOT thank you all enough for everything this fic, this community and you all have given me. I have never written anything before so this has been a real labour of love and a bit of a process.

Anyone who has liked, commented, reblogged, left me an ask, messaged me, or even silently enjoyed -THANK YOU.

ao3 here

epilogue and alt ending will be here soon!!

Last one is for all of you - lmk what you think.

CH17 -(You are) Home

The champagne flows for a long time afterwards. The team is rowdy with it, pulling the brothers around as they dance and sing, rejoicing in the feeling of another win.  Marc somehow ends up being thrown into the air by a group of mechanics, he tosses his head back and grins, laughing loudly in exhilaration. Someone is filming it; he just prays they don’t drop him. His mum only seems slightly concerned, standing aside with glistening eyes. Unlike his dad, she rarely comes to their races, so he’s delighted he could pull this off with her here.

There isn’t a time without a hand on his shoulder or around his waist. Frankie pulls him into a tight hug and Nadia holds him like his mother would, kissing his cheeks and patting his hair. Marc clambers onto Alex’s shoulders and lets his brother parade him around. His parents watch fondly. Marc laughs until he can’t breathe and wants to stay in this moment forever.

In the interlude of celebrations, Marc sneaks off to throw himself into the arms of his old Honda team. They welcome him enthusiastically, congratulating him with fervour. Luca is there too and Marc accepts a firm hug from him, thankfully devoid of any awkwardness from last night. He misses Honda dearly but knows they will always have his back and be there to celebrate his wins. He tries to wipe a tear away surreptitiously; the hand Santi lays on his shoulder suggests it’s redundant.

They dump a bottle of champagne on him when he returns to the Gresini garage. He tries to shuffle in without causing a commotion; to pretend he hasn’t just left for ten minutes without telling anyone. It is obvious that they notice, but no one says anything. He is grateful.

It is what he loves about this team, they recognise his strengths alongside his weaknesses; turning a blind eye to his oddities. Instead, they once more soak him with champagne and love. They party with him and match his energy with loud laughter and stupid dancing. He joined Gresini to enjoy racing again; he didn’t think he would find a family. Suddenly, he understands that he regrets nothing. Being here, surrounded by so much love and joy, makes every sacrifice worth it.

He’s soaked and sticky by the time he leaves. Begging off for a shower before he is dragged into more celebrations. There have already been extravagant promises of a fun night – Marc has left someone else to organise it. He knows with their parents here, it will at least start with dinner and drinks as a team, and maybe progress to a bar, or a club - somewhere private and tucked away. The whole team will attend and inevitably meet a bunch of other crews and riders while they’re there. There’s an aching familiarity to it.

Familiar in the same way that it's Valentino who seeks Marc out first. It is inevitable, in a way, how Marc is freshly showered and halfway through attempting to tame his hair when someone knocks on his motorhome door. How the shock courses through him when he opens the door to see Valentino on the other side. Marc thinks his poor motorhome has been the domain for enough drama in the past few weeks. 

He lets Valentino in any way.

(He always does)

Valentino slips through the door quietly, shutting it behind him. It is the only sound that rings in the space between them. Marc looks at the man in front of him and prays that he hasn’t read this wrong. He begs the universe for this one last thing, that Valentino wants him back and will learn to treasure him like Marc so desperately wants.

Mercifully, Alex left a little while ago. Marc has his suspicions about that. The timing is awfully convenient and his brother smiles at his phone more these days.

(So does Franky)

Marc observes Valentino, standing in front of him, on this random day in 2024. He thinks about how much has changed from 2013, 15, and 18. It feels like a world away. Marc considers the longing in Valentino’s eyes, the differences in his behaviour, and the way he stared whilst Marc was on top of the podium. Like Marc was the sun, the stars, and all of the planets.

Marc takes a step closer.

It feels monumental – make or break.

It has been years, years of aching, of pain, of hatred.

Valentino meets him halfway. Wrapping his arms around Marc and pulling him in; he presses his cheek against Marc’s hair. There is comfort in the way Valentino sighs and the warmth of his breath against the crown of Marc’s head. It feels like home. A long abandoned, slightly dilapidated place, but home all the same.

Marc pulls back, which makes Valentino tighten his arms on instinct, unwilling to let go. It has been an age since he last had this.

Marc finds himself tipping his head back to meet Valentino’s eyes and tentatively brushing their lips together. Squeezing his eyes shut and waiting for a rejection which never comes.

“I’m so proud of you” Valentino murmurs in between kisses, his breath ghosting over Marc’s face as he speaks.

It is that which tips him over the edge, breaking his fragile self-restraint and sending shock waves through him.

Marc pushes forward, crowding Vale up against the wall and laying his hands on firm shoulders. Distantly. Marc knows this is too brittle to rush, to sustain any kind of pressure. He doesn’t care.

He’s been waiting too long - to win again, to heal, for Valentino to come to his senses.

He pushes himself onto his toes, screwing his eyes shut as he takes and takes, everything he’s ever wanted. He kisses Valentino like a dying man. as if Vale is oxygen and Marc is suffocating. He refuses to break for air.

He revels in the way their lips seem to fit perfectly, how Valentino still automatically nips at Marc’s lower lip whenever they part and are pulled back together, like the tide. Valentino’s tongue swipes at the seam of Marc's lips and Marc opens his mouth on instinct, humming into it. He is starving for this.

Eventually, they have to part, their foreheads pressed together as they gasp into each other’s mouths. Marc is the first to recover, trailing open-mouthed kisses across Valentino’s jaw and down his neck. It makes the older man groan softly.

A hand pushes at his shoulder.

“Marc,” Valentino whispers, choking off a quiet groan as Marc sucks lightly below his ear.

The hand pushes harder.

“Bambino, stop, we need to talk”, he urges.

Marc hums against his skin, Valentino’s not being particularly convincing. He doesn’t stop.

Valentino huffs but doesn't sound too annoyed.

“Gattino,” He warns. Marc shifts slightly, it’s been a very long time since he’s heard that one. He hates the way he goes ever so slightly pliant.

It gives Valentino enough time to switch their positions, pushing Marc away from him and spinning him around until his back meets the wall. Marc pouts at him grumpily.

“Unfair.” He mutters, but won’t meet Vale's eyes.

“Later, I promise. I’ll take care of you, but you deserve more than this, than here.” Vale pushes, pressing a soothing kiss to his cheek. He steps away, putting some distance between them for his own sanity. He has to get this right.

Valentino sighs, eyes flitting across the room before falling back to Marc, who has finally gathered the strength to meet his gaze.

“I know we have so much to work through” Valentino reflects; Marc nods in agreement.

Valentino pushes down the bitter reflux which tells him this would be easier if he’d done it a decade ago. He continues.

“I think we both know that it’s not going to be easy. There’s a lot for me to atone for. You’re worth every second of it. Every argument, every second of my discomfort and pain.”

Marc scoffs. Valentinos sighs,

“That’s fair. I know you’ve gone through it worse than me”

There’s a pregnant pause; Marc waits for Valentino to continue.

“It’s not- I’m- cazzo.”

Valentino tries again, “I hate this, I hate admitting I was wrong.”

Marc replying laugh is brittle, Valentino winces.

“I know I’ve fucked up Marc, I know I’ve caused enough pain. Everyone came to see it clearly; I became stupid with it a long time ago. You make me stupid. Even the people close to me have been practically begging me to shut up for the last few years. I’ve become bitter, and cruel. The pain I felt back then has become so twisted and out of control, sour and rotten.”

He’s not meeting Marc’s eyes.

“there’s not much more that I can do to fix it. Just admit it, try to atone for it, promise to make it up to you.”

Marc frowns, “what’s changed?”

Deep inside Marc, alongside the soothed content, there is a burning injustice and rotting pain. Valentino looks so very sad. Marc doesn’t budge.

“Frankly, I’ve been an idiot. Last weekend was a big wake-up call. I re-evaluated, well, just about everything. I’m sure the boys told you just how much of a mess I’ve been. It turns out I’ve been wrong this whole time, I’m not sure that sunk in before. And I’ve managed to fuck both of us over in the process. I’m so sorry for the pain I’ve caused. I won’t lie to you; I still feel my hurt was justified after Sepang-”

Marc squints at him, mouth open to protest but Valentino beats him to it.

“I handled it awfully. And I was horrible. And I did irreparable damage to you and your family and I will never not be angry at myself for it. I was hurt, yes. But I was also the older one, I should have been the one to handle it like an adult but instead, I was too wrapped up in myself and my anger. I will spend every day for the rest of my life trying to make up for it if you will let me.” He implores.

“But you, Marc, you are the most incredible man I have ever met. I spent the week watching the races, and the documentaries. Looking for everything I missed, realising that I should have been there for you. You are so unbelievably strong. So brave.”

Valentino takes a shuddering breath.

“It felt like I opened my eyes for the first time in years. You truly are incredible, and not just on a bike. I see how the boys look up to you, how they could learn to love you if they don’t already. You’ve won over Bez and Pecco in a couple of weeks. I don’t think you ever needed to try with Mig or Luca. And well, your brother’s helping a lot with Franky.” He is choking on his words now, a small laugh escaping at the thought of the two together.

When Valentino looks up from the floor, there are tears in Marc’s eyes. 

“Please let me make it up to you. Let me make this right. I want everything. I want to take you out properly. Somewhere nice. Please Marc?” He begs.

Marc chuckles in disbelief, “You don’t need to ask twice to wine and dine me. I’m sorry too. I’m sorry we ended so catastrophically. I was so angry; I felt so small and stupid. It still hurts, I’m not sure if it’ll ever fully go. You realise that right? And I’m not the same man I was when I was twenty. I have scars now, physical and metaphorical. I’m weak, I cry, I have a therapist. I don’t want you to be disappointed that I can’t be the same person. I will always be too much.” Marc sniffs.

Valentino smiles gently.

“You could never be too much for me. I think you are everything I need. Everything I could ever want. I don’t care that you cry. I love everything about you, emotions and all. I want you to be happy, I want to make you happy.”, he assures.

Marc can’t help it, he can’t hold back any longer, he practically launches himself at Valentino. He knows all is not fixed, and it certainly isn’t all forgiven and they probably both need a fuck tonne of therapy but still.

Waiting is boring and Marc has never been one to do things at normal speed.

He fists his hands into Valentino’s shirt and slams their lips together, smirking when Valentino groans into the kiss.

Marc takes control immediately, pushing their chests together and trailing his hands up Vale’s body so he can lick into his mouth the minute he gasps. It isn’t gentle, maybe it should be, or perhaps the time for gentle has long since passed.

Marc tries to push them away from the wall but Valentino holds steadfast, keeping Marc bracketed by his arms.

Marc grapples at Valentino’s shoulder and then moves to dig his fingertips into Vale’s sides, underneath his shirt. Valentino smiles when he breaks the kiss, soothing Marc’s hands away.

The younger wiggles against the wall, trying to regain purchase on Valentino, who simply cups his jaw and pulls him into a gentler kiss.

Marc doesn’t want slow; he wants rough and preferably the bedroom. Valentino hums. Marc’s hands find their way under his shirt, running up and down Valentino’s smooth, flat stomach, trying to get a reaction.

Valentino shifts, and Marc follows. The older man pulls away, resting their foreheads together. He chuckles when Marc tries to kiss his neck, pulling the same dirty move as before.

He takes Marc’s hands in his own, his grip commanding. In one swift move, Marc’s arms are pinned above his head, straining against one of Vale’s own.

 Valentino raises his eyebrows, “behave” He orders.

Marc whines, high and girlish. His cheeks flush red instantly, embarrassment flooding him.

Valentino’s answering grin is wicked.

Marc forgets that they’ve not really done this before. Sure, they had a one-night stand, years ago. Not enough to know each other properly, to discover what elicits the best reactions out of each other.

Sometimes it feels like they are two sides of the same coin, prophesied to come together.

When really in some ways, they are strangers and have spent more time hating each other than loving. 

Marc can’t help but feel like he’s just let a big play slip.

“Like that, hm?” Valentino murmurs, pecking his lips, pulling him into a soft kiss, making him chase.

Marc wants to hide his face, to shy away, but there’s nowhere for him to go. He drops his eyes. Valentino tuts,

“Look at me” He commands.

Marc can’t help it; he brings his gaze up.

Valentino looks like the cat who’s got the cream, Marc scowls.

“Don’t make fun of me” He grouses.

Valentino laughs, but it isn’t cruel, instead sweet and slightly awed.

“Trust me, Bambino, I’m not. This is good. I’m looking forward to working out the best ways to make you come undone.” He smirks.

Marc can feel his cheeks burning. It’s been a long time since he’s been with someone like this in bed, someone who will make him work and reduce him to a babbling mess. Excitement stirs in his gut.

He tries to pull his hands free, to get this going again but quickly realises that he can’t move. He wonders why they haven’t been doing this for years and spares a thought for the fact that Valentino can apparently at least somewhat hold him down.

It’s such a turn-on, making him rut against Valentino’s thigh, looking up at the older man from beneath his lashes. The older man looks breathless, his pupils blown wide as he watches Marc writhe underneath him. Marc moans enthusiastically.

Valentino draws his leg away.

 “I’m sorry Carino, not today, okay? Slowly, we have to go slowly. I’m not ruining this now I’ve only just got you back.”

Marc’s eyes fly open, and he huffs miserably when he sees nothing but honesty and slight regret in Valentino’s eyes. He pushes against the arms holding him firm, and tries to arch into Valentino’s space, to push them together again.

“Come on Vale, just once? Please? I’ll be good” He pleads.

There’s a sharp intake of air, Valentino drops his head, looks like he’s gathering mental strength.

“Later, Tesoro. Not now.” He groans through gritted teeth.

Marc could push this; he could sway Valentino into fucking him up against the wall. But for once, Valentino is right. Marc finally relents and stops fidgeting, allowing them to calm down without increasing the space between them. He sighs, looking into Vale's eyes.

“I love you. It might be the worst decision I’ve ever made, but I love you so much” Marc whispers.

Valentino smiles gently, “I love you too, Gattino”.

“I just don’t want you to leave. I couldn’t do that again. Do you mean it, you love me, no matter what?” Marc searches, his eyes wide and sincere. 

Valentino hums. He presses a kiss on Marc’s forehead.

“I will always love you. I will spend the rest of my life proving it. You could tell me every worst thing about you and I would cherish those. Tell me all your darkest secrets, I will still love you. Always. Forever”

He whispers it against Marc’s lips and promises himself that he will never let this go.

Valentino holds Marc tight in a motorhome in Aragon and vows to be at his side for the rest of their lives.

Till death do them part.

*fin*

[lovelyghst]

just imagine ghost getting his Jacob's ladder piercing while he's dating you and after it's healed yall have sex for the first time and it's just like sensory overload

i know absolutely nothing about piercings, but this idea is simply too good to pass up. my brain is melting.

hmmm, thinking about ghost who, despite not being able to properly get off himself, is still so attentive to his sweet girl throughout the whole healing process; offering you his mouth and fingers whenever he notices your focus beginning to drift off and shift elsewhere, having you rub yourself up on his jean-clad thigh when you can’t seem to shake the burst of energy.

because while you never outright asked him for anything of the kind, he just knew.

and even if you were the one so insistent on following the piercer’s advice—taking each and every precaution possible in avoiding the risks that simon shrugged off as ‘not gonna happen.’—you still felt bad. though, he couldn’t resist your stern pouting for long, turning weak the moment you cocked your head and promised him a sweet treat when he’s all healed up.

so, of course, ‘whatever you say, doll.’

anything to put your pretty mind at ease. he is a soldier, after all. he can wait, even if it kills him. it got pretty damn close to it, too.

which is what makes the first time back so fucking good. that reunion, and the return of that glimmering look you get in your eyes every other time he presses his pink lips to your collar and gently hikes you up the mattress after a long time away.

and truthfully, he was done in the moment you tapped him on his shoulder and told him to guess what day it was.

“shit, baby—” he grits out with a heavy breath, eyes trained on your own as he watches you reverently lick up the underside of his cock. your fingers tighten around the base when his abs pull taut, tongue gliding over the cool metal.

taking your time in feeling each and every barbell leading to the tip, making him twitch in your hand at the hot and wet drag over his sensitive skin. a heavy breath seeps from his lungs, his jaw clenching as he fights to hold off. jesus, you’re too good to him.

a sweet fucking treat, indeed.

you giggle before taking the head of him between your swollen, spit-stained lips, reveling in the quick hiss he sucks in through his teeth as you whine at the familiar taste of his pre leaking onto your tongue. your other hand slips up his thigh while you squeeze your own together, your freshly done-up nails leaving little, pink crescent shapes in his thick skin.

“fuck— not gonna last ‘f you keep that up,” he warns, a struggle in and of itself, and it’s an utter miracle he doesn’t collapse to the floor when you only hollow your cheeks and suck in response. he hardly manages to stifle an embarrassingly whorish moan at that.

god, you look so pretty down there, on your knees for him. so fucking debauched, and so, so perfect.

the way your thumb toys with the piercings as you have your own fun, and how you preen in his hold like a sweet cat when he slips a hand to the back of your neck. he’s going to miss it when he forces himself to pull you away, frowning at the pout you give him as he’s lifting you off your feet and carrying you over to your bed.

“’m sorry, sweetheart… just too fuckin’ pretty for yer old man anymore— didn’t want it t’go to waste.”

he kisses your temple, mumbling his apologies in your hair. you hardly even register your bare back making contact with your sheets, so wrapped up in his hold, before he’s kissing his way down your neck.

“wanna fill yer pretty cunt,” he murmurs, and it’s nearly incoherent as his lips press against your racing pulse point. “make ‘er cum ‘round my cock… know y’missed it too, sweet girl. a proper fuck…”

he’s talking more to himself than anything, and a small gasp from you follows soon after when his arm is snaked between your bodies and his fingertips make contact with your swollen, little clit. won’t even stretch you out with his fingers; he’s had his fill of that over the course of the last month. let him feel how much you missed his cock.

“poor thing’s soaked f’me, baby.” he groans as he adjusts on his forearm and regains his bearings, dick twitching against your thigh with every noise squeaked out from your throat. “cunt’s gonna take me just right, lovie… so fuckin’ well…”

he rambles a lot when he’s needy, you’ve come to learn.

you whine when his hand leaves you to take his cock in a fist, your nails digging into his chest and shoulder when he presses the head to your messy pussy. just the tip in and you’re already seeing stars, the shared moan between the two of you raw and pornographic.

he’s gritting out his swears before you try to shush his dirty mouth with a kiss, and he accepts it greedily, almost too eagerly.

your body reacts to his, simultaneously craving more and trying to wiggle away from the overwhelming sensation all at once. your brain is fuzzy by the time he’s nearly bottoming out inside you, ears deaf to the unabashed sounds spilling from your lips as the feeling of his fresh piercings dragging against your every sweet spot burns itself into your memory.

and before you can catch your breath, a thumb is being pressed up against your sensitive bud once again, your legs constricting around him involuntarily as you jolt with a cry. heat prickles at your skin, his teeth at your jaw making your spine tingle.

he’s telling you to cum, begging you to make a mess of his cock.

his hand picks up its pace, hips grinding against yours sloppier than ever as he pleads right up against your temple for you to use him, just finish him off, fucking cum for him.

you squeeze around his cock like a vice and pull him straight under with you, arms locked tight around his neck as your pretty cunt utterly wrecks him. making him throb and twitch, fucking himself dumb through his high and wringing him dry of everything he’s kept pent up for you. at least for now, anyway.

his and your panting rings out in the room as he sits back on his knees, his cock still hard as he gently pulls out of you. watching his pearly cum bead from your slit, your chest gradually slowing down within the time he takes to drool over the sight of you.

it’s not long before simon has you laying on your tummy with your head in the soft sheets, a pillow slipped underneath your hips to prop you up. not making you do an ounce of work as he uses your warm, pliant cunt as his sweet cum dump for hours on end.

fucking you gently, lovingly, all while trying his best to keep his weight off your back. he kisses behind your ear, cooing praises and choked grunts that make your tummy flutter with butterflies. you can only giggle into the pillow nestled in your arms as he makes up for all the lost time.

filling you with load after load, the number becoming lost on your fuzzy mind after a certain amount, until your belly is achingly full and his cock is numb from overstimulation. only to coax you onto your back, easing your limp legs apart to watch his cum leak from your pretty hole. pressing a flat palm to your lower tummy, sighing in time with your strangled noises as your sensitive pussy drips more of his spend. leaning forward and licking it all up like some starved mutt; groaning at the taste, arms tightening around your hips as he eats his mess out of his pretty girl.

[giannaln4]

GIANNA'S KINKTOBER '24 SEASON

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Kinktober day sixteen.

Breeding Kink (3.2k words)

summary: Since the moment he met you, Lando knew he wanted you to be the mother of his children, and that feeling only intensified when he saw taking care of your nephew.

warnings: NSFW, +18, smut, MDNI, established relationship, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talking, breeding kink.

To anyone else, and as people would expect, seeing your significant other with a child should warm your heart; it should give you a soft spot for the person you’ve vowed to spend the rest of your life with. 

Lando did feel like that when he saw you interact with any kid, like when you were walking in the paddock and a kid came up to him and you always made conversation so they wouldn’t feel so shy, or when a driver brought their kid to the race and you immediately leaned down to talk to them, sometimes even holding their tiny hands as they swore they had the coolest thing to show you.

That was the first few times, at least. But he will never forget how everything inside him shifted when you first met his niece. She instantly fell in love with you, and she needed to drag you everywhere. Who could blame her, really; that’s just the effect you have on people.

But god, the effect you had on him? That was another level, because the way he felt that weekend when you picked up a motherly role when you were with her made him feel something he had never felt before, something he never imagined, and quite honestly, he couldn’t explain it. That was until you were saying goodbye and the little girl nearly cried when her mother took her from your arms, and his hands instinctively landed on your tummy when he walked you back to the car.

The thought of you carrying his child and taking care of them the same way you did with his niece — now that is a fire he could never put out, not until it became a reality. He wanted- no, he needed to make you a mother; he desperately needed to put a baby in you in a way that was almost primal.

You and Lando have been together for years, and it was common knowledge that he wanted kids. Sure, you have talked about having a family one day after getting married, one day, but sometimes he just wishes you could skip all of that and make a baby once and for all. 

For months, he kept those thoughts to himself, not wanting to ruin what you had just because he couldn’t contain his desire buried for a little longer; that was until you babysat your 5-year-old nephew, Charlie.

He came back home sometime in the afternoon, eyes tired and body aching for the intensity of the past weeks. He wanted nothing more than to be with his girlfriend and forget about the world, but as soon as he stepped into your apartment, he heard the TV and loud chuckles coming from the living room.

His brows frowned in confusion as he dropped his bags next to the door and followed the noise, his heart nearly stopping when he spotted you playing with the little kid.

“Hey, what’s going on here?” He said with a huge smile.

“Oh hi, you’re home,” you sprinted towards him, hugging him tightly when he caught you in his arms. “I’ve missed you.”

“Missed you too, sweetheart,” he kissed your temple. “And how is this little guy doing?" Lando walked towards Charlie, kneeling next to him to be at the same level. 

“Good, we are playing with the puppies,” he exclaimed, his tiny finger pointed at the TV. 

“Yeah? Are they fun?” He just nodded and ran closer to the glowing screen, completely forgetting about Lando’s existence and jumping again as his tired eyes followed the dogs.

“Don’t worry, my sister will pick him up in a couple of hours.”

“It’s fine. He seems happy.”

“And very tired. I think it's time for a nap, what do you say?” You walked towards him, trying to pick him up, but he refused.

“No! I wanna play racing again.” 

“We can play some other time, I promise.” 

He looked up at you, the corners of his mouth turning down as his eyes quickly filled with tears. He shook his head and ran back to Lando, who was still on his knees, as he caged himself in his arms.

“I wanna play racing,” he repeated, this time to your boyfriend, sniffling and wiping his tears.

“Yeah? We can play for a little while.”

“Lando-” The way he just betrayed you, you would never forgive him.

“He’ll want to go to sleep soon, don’t worry.” You saw them walk to Lando’s streaming room, Charlie skipping as he held his hand.

You rolled your eyes and followed them, crossing your arms as you rested against the door frame. Lando tried to pick him up, intending to sit him in the sim, but he nearly lost his mind, as if Lando had no idea how playing racing worked.

“No! Auntie.” Lando freaked out and out and put him back down, looking at you as he begged for your help with a single look.

“I’m right here, sweetie.”

You stepped closer to them, sitting on the chair as you picked him up and put him on your lap. He was happy again, his little feet kicking in the air as he gripped the steering wheel.

“We’ll do one more, okay?”

“Yes!” He happily exclaimed.

Lando watched the both of you in awe as you started the game, showing Charlie all the cool cars he could choose from.

“I want the blue car again!” He said, pointing at the Red Bull. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Lando joked. You giggled at this, but chose the Red Bull for the race.

It was a free practice session, so you weren’t actually racing other cars, but you still got to drive it super fast, which is exactly what he liked. 

As the session started, you placed your hands just below his. You were doing all the work, but the illusion was still there. 

It was a little harder to drive like this, but you still managed to put up a few good laps without messing up too much, but even when you did, he was enjoying it, giggling and pointing at the screens as he turned to Lando to ask him an excited ��did you see that?” Any time something happened, and every time, Lando would just nod and match his enthusiasm.

The session ended, and just like you did earlier today, you congratulated your nephew for his amazing driving. He took the compliments proudly as if he just won a championship, but his head soon fell on your chest, yawning as he snuggled closer.

“Okay, time for a nap.”

He didn’t resist this time. Instead, he nodded as his eyes closed. Lando helped you get up as you held Charlie close to you, walking towards the guest room; that was the room he preferred, saying your room was too scary and probably haunted.

You carefully laid him down, taking his shoes off and covering his body with a blanket. How was he already in a deep sleep? You had no idea, but you envy him.

While he was asleep, you took the time to clean up the mess he made earlier, picking up all the toys he brought and putting Lando’s helmets back where they belonged. You loved your nephew, you really did, but man, it was really challenging to take care of a child. Not only were they messy and unpredictable, but they had so much energy you could barely keep up. You often wondered how your sister did it. 

Once you finished up, you dramatically collapsed on the couch. “I need to sleep for like a week,” you joked, your boyfriend laughing at your antics.

He made his way to the couch, sitting next to you as he pulled you in a warm embrace, hands caressing your sides as he placed a sweet kiss on the top of your head. “Me too, and I was only here for like half an hour.”

“Imagine! I’ve been with him since this morning. I’m never babysitting again.”

“No? But you love Charlie.” He looked at you expectantly, trying to decipher if you were being serious.

“I do, but it’s too much sometimes. I honestly don’t know what we’ll do when we have our kids.”

Our kids. Two simple words that opened up a can that you would never be able to close. He stayed silent, mentally cursing the tent forming in his pants for betraying him in such an innocent moment.

You didn’t think anything of it, nor did you realise what those two words did to him, so you just reached for the remote control and browsed the channels. You ended up picking a cooking show, paying attention as if you would ever cook anything like that.

The entire time, Lando was paying attention to you — all of you. He admired your face, your hands, your hips… your tummy. He couldn’t stop himself from placing both his hands on your stomach, imagining what you would look like carrying a child. His child. He was well aware he was getting ahead of himself, but after witnessing today’s events? God, he needed to do something about it.

Another hour went by, and you were already catching up to your boyfriend’s intentions. To you, everything seemed normal at first, but the lower his hands got and the way his thumb was rubbing soft circles on your stomach, it clicked. You knew how Lando felt about having a family with you, but it never crossed your mind that seeing you with kids affected him so much. Though it all made more sense now, any time you were near a kid, even if you didn’t interact with them at all, his hands would be all over you, and when he got you alone? That’s another story, but you never connected the dots until now. 

Suddenly, a phone call made both of you jump. It was your sister calling you to let you know she was in the building, ready to pick Charlie up. You gathered all his things as Lando greeted your sister, walking her in and guiding her to the guest room.

“Aw, he looks so peaceful.”

“Well, you should’ve seen him two hours ago,” you joked.

“I know,” she laughed with you. “Thank you for taking care of him on such short notice, you saved my life today.”

“It’s okay, I love spending time with Charlie, and I’m happy to do it any other time.” 

“Thanks, Y/N. He honestly loves you, you have no idea how happy he got when I told him we were coming here.” Your sister was about to carry Charlie in his arms, but Lando offered to bring him down to the car. 

Okay, now you got it. You had to admit that seeing Lando carry a little kid did things to you, and since your realisation a few minutes ago, you couldn’t stop thinking about a family; how did you suddenly get your own case of baby fever? Sure, you were still young, and that probably wouldn’t happen for at least a few years, but fantasising couldn’t hurt anyone. 

You walked back to the apartment holding Lando’s hand, his grip so tight you thought he could break your hand if he squeezed a little harder. As soon as the door closed behind you, he grabbed you by the hips and turned you around, his lips crashing into yours in an intense kiss.

Kissing him back, your arms wrapped around his neck as one hand played with his hair.

“You looked so pretty today, taking such good care of the baby,” he mumbled against your lips, biting it sofly. You couldn’t contain the moan that left your mouth, only encouraging him further. 

He carried you to your bedroom, immediately throwing you in the bed and hovering over you. He pressed himself further into you, making you very aware of his hardening cock as he nudged his bulge into your lower stomach. You moaned again, your legs going around his torso to pull him down.

“I wanna put a baby in you. God, you would look so perfect.” He didn’t know what to do with you. He wanted to kiss you, bite you; he wanted to touch you everywhere, his own mind making him feel overwhelmed. 

After quickly taking off your shirt, he started kissing you everywhere, a trail of wet kisses making their way down your body. His touch was electric, making you nearly squirm beneath him as your fingers kept a tight grip on his hair, and his words only made the feeling intensify. 

“Lando,” you moaned, he hummed in response, “do it,” you simply said. God, the way everything inside him shifted is something he wanted to remember for the rest of his life. He looked up at you, eyes filled with a hunger and desperation you had never seen before. 

“Yeah? You want me to put a baby here?” He asked you, his big hand falling on your lower stomach as he kissed it. 

“Mhm, yes.” Your heartbeat was as strong as ever, and you were already having a hard time focusing. You needed him to do something and you needed it now. 

“Fuck,” he breathed as his hips involuntarily thrusted into the mattress. His lips kept exploring the lower part of your body as his hands worked on getting rid of your joggers, hands falling on your thighs immediately after to move them to rest on his shoulders. 

“Please, I need you so bad,” you begged, and he assumed you were asking him to pay attention to your poor pussy, which you were, but his mouth is not what you needed right now, so you stopped him after one firm lick. “Inside me.”

“As you wish, my love.” 

He got off the bed to quickly discard his clothes as you did the same with your bra, falling back on the bed as you eagerly waited for him. You felt like his gaze was piercing you as he lowered his body, pressing himself against you.

You moaned in anticipation, your arms wrapped around his neck as you felt your pussy starting to drip with desire. He moved his fingers along your sides and all the way down to your hole, collecting your wetness and spreading everywhere, finally getting to your clit as he rubbed soft circles for a moment.

He moved his mouth to your chest, taking one of your nipples into your mouth as he whimpered, and his mind instantly went to how sensitive and full they would be once you were pregnant, and he couldn’t wait any longer. “You look so fucking sexy tonight, sweetheart... I wanna fuck you so bad.” He was practically drooling as his fingers left your pussy and grabbed his cock, pumping it a couple of times before guiding it to your entrance.

You couldn’t help your gaze dropping to his member, already swollen at the tip and bubbling with precum. It seemed impossible, but you were sure you had never needed him this bad.

He pushed into you, making both of you moan loudly as his eyes met yours for a moment before pressing a kiss on your lips, whispering a little “I love you.”

He didn’t give you that long to adjust. His hands went under your ass, moving you up and down his cock. As if your sex life wasn’t already rough, the intention he had in mind just made him go crazier, because the way he was thrusting into you was bound to leave you sore for days. 

The room was filled with whimpers and slick noises the whole time, moans of each other’s names joining from time to time. “Gonna fill you up so good,” he breathed, his hands squeezing your ass, “fuck, can’t wait to see your tummy grow.” All you could do was moan, the words leaving his mouth putting you under a spell that you could never escape. “Do you want that, love?”

“Uh- huh,” you managed to spit out, fingers drigging into his strong biceps.

“Wanna hear you say it.”

“Fuck- ah. I want you to put a baby in me.” You replied, eyes focusing on what your words did to him.

His hips began to speed up, thrashing your head against the pillows as he repeatedly hit that sweet spot deep inside you. He was so deep you could practically feel him in the pit of your stomach.

“Harder,” you whimpered, and he immediately started to drill into you, the air nearly getting knocked out of your lungs as his grip tightened. 

“You feel so good around me, so so good for me,” he pants, looking down to where you were connected. “Fuck.”

“Ah- Lando.” It felt so good. So good that you are too far out of reality to form any thoughts; you could only think about him and how good he looked above you, with his mouth hung open in pure pleasure as he panted.

One of his hands made its way to your tummy, pressing down where he could feel himself. It was so simple yet so effective; he could feel his cock moving deep inside you. He gragged it further, his fingers catching your clit.

“Fuck,” you let out a broken moan, “just like that.”

He smirked at this; it was like you were begging him to get you pregnant as you began to tighten around him. He knew you were close; he could not only feel it but see it, the way your eyes were squeezed shut as your legs started to quiver.

“You wanna cum? You wanna cum while I fill you up?”

“Fuck,” you screamed as your head frantically nodded. 

“Cum with me, I’m gonna put a baby in there.”

With that, your orgasm began to take over, squeezing around him tighter, triggering his own release. He slowed his movements down and both his hands took a hold of your waist, keeping you in place so you wouldn’t waste a single drop.

Both your moans were even louder as he did his best to continue pushing into you through his orgasm, wanting to pump as much of his seed into you as he possibly could. When he physically couldn’t keep going, he stopped, keeping his cock deep inside you as he tried to catch his breath. 

He looked down at you, a smile adorning his face as he looked down at the mess he made. Slowly, he pulled out, his fingers quickly replacing his cock as he pushed his cum back into you, making you squirm and whimper at how sensitive you were. 

“Gonna have to squeeze for me, love, you gotta keep it inside.” The sight almost made him want to fuck you again; he couldn’t believe how pretty you looked filled up to the brim with his cum.

His eyes locked with yours, fingers going inside his mouth as he licked them clean. He had lost his mind; you were sure of that, but fuck, you couldn’t deny how hot that was.

With a satisfied smirk, he fell next to you, pulling you into his arms as he kissed you once more. “I love you so much,” he whispered.

“I love you too.”

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[whirlybirbs]

i am on my hands and knees begging for a shred of keigo takami baby bird kfc angel content from you, if you write hawks i will finally know true peace

— MEET & GREET ; 1 / 2 ; HAWKS ; 啓悟

summary: you manage to snag two VIP meet & greet tickets for your nephew's birthday. he insists you join him. part one of two. pairing: keigo takami ; hawks / f!reader word count: 3.1k tags: humor, meet-cute, pro hero culture, birbs ignores all relevant timelines yet again, fluff, phone-flirting, hawks is great with kids, t+, relatable pre-hook up hesitation, they will fuck next time a/n: hawks is the chappell roan of the mha universe. stop touching him. this man actually changed my brain chemistry in early 2023 but we don't need to talk about that. anways, this poll was on the ropes all day and i made the executive choice to feed the hawks birblets.

You feel like your face has been set in a semi-permanent cringe all morning. 

In your right hand, you're clutching your half-finished iced coffee for dear life. In your other, you're clinging to your nephew as he drags you through the convention center — one of the bright red wings of his beloved, homemade cosplay has started to go lopsided, and the six-year-old excitedly tugs it back in place as he tries to yank you forward.

"C'mon! We're gonna be late!" 

This really wasn't your scene.

Fan conventions had a way of making your skin itch. The amount of sexy All Mights you've seen this morning alone has to be some sort of milestone indicator for the environment. Whether nature is healing or dying, though, you have no idea. 

If you had it your way, you'd spend the rest of the day mingling through the artist stalls — but, to your nephew Hayami's point, the two of you had somewhere to be.

Your VIP meet-and-greet badge swings as you trip up and laugh. "Okay! Okay, slow down! You're about to yank my arm off!"

It was the best birthday gift imaginable for Hayami. You officially cemented your title as The Coolest Aunt Ever when you managed to snag the two VIP convention meet-and-greet tickets (complete with a professional photo and two signed copies of the convention's annual poster) after a harrowing seven hours in an online Ticketmaster line. There were only a hundred of them sold — and sure, you coulda thrown that pretty hunk of cash into a college fund for Hayami, but he was deeply in his hero phase. 

Originally you expected that Hayami's father, your brother-in-law, would want to go.

But, no, Hayami himself insisted you come with him.

After all, you helped me with my costume, he begged, I wouldn't have been able to do it without you!

That you did. Many a hot glue gun burn was suffered at the hands of those damn red feathers. If you squint from far away, the cosplay isn't half bad considering the thrift and dollar-store materials. It wasn't one of those inch-to-inch replicas, but it worked. 

He's like a cute, bouncing mini Hawks. Complete with goggles and wings.

And Hayami is happy. And that's all that matters to you. 

The line is already pretty long, and Hayami runs his gloved hands along the line barriers as he races to his spot, audibly wooshing the whole way — just like Hawks does, probably. His badge jingles, and he hops to a stop as you come up behind him and pat his head. The six-year-old stands up on his tippy-toes, trying to see around the Miss Midnight fan in front of them. 

"Can you see him?" he chatters excitedly, "Ti, can you?"

He's called you Ti ever since he could speak. Auntie was too long, and the shortened version has stuck. 

You hop up onto your tippy-toes, mimicking him — and you swear you catch a glimpse of a crimson feather plumage over the gathered heads of the other meet-and-greet fans. It might be another cosplayer.

"I dunno," you whisper, your eyes darting to your phone's lock screen, "It's supposed to start any minute—"

The telltale roar of fanfare lets you know exactly who has just arrived. 

Hayami's excitement is palpable. Without a word, you're hauling him up and perching him on your shoulders. His hands land in your hair, and you can feel his smile from down here. 

"Ti! It's him!"

The line starts moving not long after, and you finish your iced coffee while Hayami stays perched on your shoulders, utterly starstruck. You weave through the barriers, moving up a few feet every minute, until you're only four or five people away from where Hawks sits behind a long table. 

You have to admit, the guy is pretty cute. 

Cuter than the fan-cams make him out to be, even. 

Sandy blonde hair, sharp gold eyes, and big wings. There's no doubt in your mind he's showboating, but as people approach the table, you notice this hesitant twitch ripple through the red feathers every time someone gets a little too close. 

That cringe from earlier washes over your face again as a girl reaches over the table to roughly run her fingers across one of his flight feathers. 

It's Keigo's least favorite part of all this. 

I mean, there's a part of him that gets it. He's the #2 Hero in all of Japan. He's a big deal. He's top of the popularity polls, he's the people's bird, y'know? He's a marketed commodity that sells out each and every time. 

But, that doesn't mean he likes being touched.

Especially the wings. Hands off the wings.

"Hey, Hayami?" you ask, tilting your head up as you both step forward.

You can feel the sudden nervousness creeping up on Hayami as he nods and looks down at you. "Y-Yea?"

"Make sure you ask for permission if you touch his wings, okay?" you say gently, muscling him down from your shoulders and doing a once over on his mini-Hawks cosplay, "And remember to tell him your name!"

Hayami nods, his nerves palpable as he realizes the two of you are next. 

On instinct, his hand shoots out and grips yours for dear life. 

And then, one of the marketers waves the two of you forward.

The first word that comes to Keigo's mind is MILF. You're cute. Real cute. Definitely not the usual sort he meets at conventions, and definitely not the usual sort that buys a ticket to his meet-and-greets. The kid clinging to your arm is arguably even cuter, and Hawks can't hide the blooming grin on his face when the pair of you step forward.

"Woa-ho!" he yaps from behind the patterned table, "Dude! Nice outfit!"

Hayami is panicking. You can tell from his shocked silence as the two of you step forward. You bend at the knees, squatting to your nephew's height, then encourage him to go ahead, go on. His big, brown eyes bob from you to Hawks. 

"Go ahead, Hayami," you encourage softly, "Say hi."

Oh, shit. You're really cute. Is this your kid? Nah, no way. You're way too young to be his mom. Unless—

You've seriously got him weighing the pros and cons of step-fatherhood and he doesn't even know your name. 

He could do stepdad shit at twenty-six. Right?

"Hi, Mr. Hawks," comes the shy voice of the mini Hawks before him; the sandy blonde's chest clenches. 

This is too fuckin' cute.

"Heh, hey kid," he chirps back, leaning forward on the table as his mouth curves into a friendly grin; Hawks' eyes are trained on the kid's growing smile, "What's your name?"

"H-Hayami."

"It's cool t' meetcha, Hayami," Hawks parrots as your own proud smile grows. There's relief flooding your shoulders. Thank god, Hayami didn't choke the clutch moment, "I like your wings, lil' dude!"

Hayami gives a little turn, wiggling his prized, handmade possession. His confidence is building; the compliment lights the kid's cheeks up. 

"My aunt helped me make them!" Hayami chatters, his eyes brightening from behind the flight goggles strapped to his head, "She says I need to ask for your permission to touch your feathers!"

Keigo's gold eyes slip to your face. You give him an apologetic grimace, your eyes flicking to the girl beyond the VIP area still screaming about how she touched him, she touched Hawks, oh my god. You mouth out a silent apology.

Hawks' finds himself a little speechless. Doesn't happen often. 

He's not used to having some say in how he's objectified and consumed.

A sandy brow quirks as he pushes his yellow-tinted visor up, and into his hair. He seems shocked. It's not an expression you've seen on the #2 before — and in the last few weeks, you've seen plenty of Hawks content during Hayami's cosplaying journey. The reference material is pretty expansive.

"That's real considerate, chickadee — I appreciate that," his voice is soft; his smile is a little looser, "C'mere, Hayami, you wanna hold a feather while I sign your poster?"

This is, like, the best day of Hayami's life. 

Hawks brings his visor back down. 

You stand to full height, wringing your purse's strap, watching Hayami hold both hands out as one of the delicate pieces of plumage floats into his hands on command. He cradles it like treasure, his big brown eyes glimmering with new-found amazement. 

You step forward, and place a hand on Hayami's shoulder as he gently ushers his hands toward your face. "Ti, look, isn't this, like, the coolest thing ever — it's one of Hawks' feathers!"

Hawks' eyes flick up to the two of you as his pen darts across the two VIP package posters. There's a smirk on his face as he pays half attention to the task of signing. 

And scribbling his number on the back of one.

"I see that," you chuckle, leaning in to inspect the beautiful, crimson feather, "Make sure you say th—"

Before you finish your sentence, the very feather in question darts up to tickle the tip of your nose. Your immediate reaction is to scrunch your nose and grin. It's not so much ticklish as it is gentle. For good measure, Hawks gives Hayami a little brush on the cheek, too. The boy descends into delighted laughter, allowing the feather to zip back through the air and into its designated place in his wings. 

Hawks is smirking.

"Alright you two," comes the level voice of the marketer; the camera in her hands is bulky, and a signifier that their time meeting #2 is nearly up, "Let's get in nice and close for a photo!"

The table proves to be a bit of a pain, but you bend down to Hayami's height as Hawks leans over the table and gives you both bunny ears. The camera flash burns bright in your eyes as Hayami's hand darts into yours again. 

"Here you two go," Hawks rumbles easily; he's standing now, and you find yourself yet again struck by how handsome he is. He smells like summer air and some expensive cologne you'll probably never know the name of. Definitely one of his sponsors. 

You take both posters, as Hayami's excitement seems to overflow and he's nearly buzzing with excitement to know he has Hawks' autograph. The boy bounces at your heels as he clutches his signed copy of the annual convention poster. His big, brown eyes are wide with pure joy. 

"Thank you!" Hayami chatters, "You're the best, Hawks!"

"Thank you," you smile, taking your own poster as Hayami's hand rockets back into yours.

"Nah, it's nothin', chickadee. Thanks for the manners," he calls after you with a touch of good humor, "You're real sweet."

"No problem!" you stutter out, thrown entirely by the compliment, as one of the other marketers guides you towards the exit with a hand on your back. 

"Oh, hey! One last thing!"

You flick your eyes back over your shoulder as you're shuffled out of the meet-and-greet.

You watch Hawks mouth 'check the poster', and with a hand held up to the side of his face. Then, 'call me'. 

"You're kidding me."

Hayami is finally asleep — and your sister is closing the door to his darkened bedroom as she hisses the words out. You're leaning against the hallway wall, arms crossed and looking entirely exasperated.

"I can't just call him," you say softly as you kick off the wall and follow her into the kitchen, "This isn't, like, the hot waiter who leaves his number on the receipt—"

"No, it's even better," she chatters, moving towards the unfinished glass of wine that sits on the dinner table, "I swear to god if you don't pick up that phone and call him right now—"

It's your brother-in-law who speaks up from the couch. "What's stopping you?"

"I don't know, being chronically single?" you cry as you throw your hands, "I haven't gotten a wax in months—"

"You seriously think #2 cares?" comes your sister's flat reply.

Your brother-in-law mimics her affectation. He throws a finger in the air. "Real heroes don't care."

The two of them high-five. 

...They're probably right.

You suck your teeth as you cross your arms again and weigh your options.

I mean — it's only eight o'clock. It's early. And it's a Friday. 

It could go two ways — you break your year-long dry spell with the #2 pro-hero in the country, or it's a total bust and he turns out to be a massive weirdo. Both are frankly pretty entertaining. 

You chew your lip.

Then, you decide.

You kick off the wall and move towards your phone in the kitchen. It's sitting beside the poster. 

"Oh my god, are you doing it?" your sister calls from the couch, her hand gripping her husband's arm tightly.

"I'm doing it," you say, ignoring the bite of nervousness in your hands as you type in the cell number that was scrawledhastily on the back of the poster. 

"Ohmygod."

It's ringing.

Suddenly, you have an audience. Your sister and brother-in-law are crowding you, their faces wide and expectant as it continues to ring. You pull your thumb to your mouth, pushing your bottom lip between your teeth. You let it ring, and ring, and just when you settle that you're being sent to voicemail, there's a click and a voice.

"'Ello?"

Your sister slams her hand into her husband's back, the two of them scrambling in a sudden flash of limbs and excitement. You drag your thumb across your throat — gesturing for them to cut it out. 

"Uh, hi," you fumble, "Is this... Hawks?"

Suddenly, there's a bark of laughter on the other line. "The one and only. Who's this?"

A slow smirk tugs at your cheeks. "I checked the back of the poster — a bold move, y'know."

"Convention Cutie!" he practically cheers, "Hold on, hold on — gimme two seconds, lemme just land."

Your lips part and you blink. The mental image is a hell of a thing. You swallow down a bought of amusement. "Sure, sure, take your time."

Keigo was starting to doubt you'd actually call him. The convention wrapped up hours ago, and he already made himself busy by exploring the southern city. It's nice here. A little bit like his hometown. Not too much crime, which has made for a pretty uneventful evening.

Until now.

His boots touch down on the nearby rooftop and he settles into an easy squat. His wings tuck themselves tightly against his back. 

You can hear a bit of wind bristle against his end of the receiver. 

"Alright, alright, sorry," he rumbles out, "Now you've got my full, undivided attention—"

You tug on your bottom lip. Your sister and brother-in-law are entirely hooked on the little bits they're overhearing from their spot across the counter. Your sister takes a long drink of her wine.

"Am I... being a bit of a distraction?" you ask, "If now isn't a good time—"

"You've been a distraction all day," comes the smooooooth reply; even Keigo's proud of himself for that one, "I'm just out for a fly. Nothin' too serious. I am glad you called, though."

Oh, fuck. Your knees feel like jello. You white-knuckle grip the counter as your sister gnashes her teeth and mimics biting her fist in silent mimery.

"Yea?" you pry, fanning yourself as you lean farther against the counter. 

"Yea, definitely," Hawks grins as he tips his head back and checks out the stars, "You busy tomorrow night? I'd love to take you out to dinner."

There's a commotion across the kitchen. The two of them are smacking one another's arms, their genuine excitement is palpable as they try to stay quiet. They're failing.

"I'd love that, Hawks."

This is new for him.

Technically speaking, you're not a fan. Your nephew is. So, this doesn't technically qualify as one of those unspoken hero faux pas. Don't date fans. Then again, what does it matter? He can do whatever he wants. 

And you're cute. And nice. And kind. And maybe he's being a sap, but seeing you with your nephew made something in his heart tighten. He didn't even notice he was making a nest of scrapped trash from the posters around his seat until the afternoon was over. 

God, sometimes the evolutionarily deep, bird DNA thing is weird.

Hawks lets out a tight breath he didn't realize he was holding. 

"Cool. Okay. Uh, you... you chill with, like, 7pm?" he fiddles with his visor, "I'm... I'm free whenever so..."

He sounds nervous. Your grin is so bright it could outburn the sun. 

"That works for me," you say as you fiddle with your lip, "As far as dress code goes... Do I, like, need a flight suit?"

His laugh is warm. 

"No, no, I — I was gonna get us an Uber," his voice lilts into something more mischievous, "Unless..."

"Maybe after dinner," you remark easily, swaying side to side, "You can show me what those wings do?"

Oh, smooth. Real smooth. Keigo's face is warm. His wings in question twitch eagerly at the invitation. 

"You gonna ask before you touch?" he teases back into the receiver, his brow raised.

It's your turn to laugh. "Hey, it's called being polite."

"I appreciate it," he rumbles out, about earlier at the convention, "Seriously. People are grabby — these things are sensitive..."

"Making a mental note of that, and filing it away," you flirt openly as your sister cheers silently, "For after dinner, maybe."

Keigo's brain stutter-steps. His laugh is surprised. He's about to comment on how you might just be the girl of his dreams when suddenly the wail of sirens perks up his attention. It's two blocks over. Three fire engines. The wind is carrying the smell of acrid smoke. 

"Hey, chickadee, I, uh... I gotta go," he says, standing and allowing his attention to drift to the scene playing out in front of him; it's a house fire — must be — on the southern side of town, "I'll text you the spot for tomorrow, is that okay?"

"Of course, don't let me keep you," you hush, "I'll... text you?"

"I'm countin' on it."

"Bye, Hawks."

"See ya, chickadee."

You didn't even realize you were sweating until you put the phone down.

Your sister and her husband are there, eyes wide. "So?"

"So," you croon as you laugh and pridefully sway your hips, "I have plans tomorrow night."

Their screaming wakes up Hayami.

As you help the kid back to sleep, you keep it secret that he's a better wingman than you could have ever anticipated. 

[piastappies]

ᯓᡣ𐭩 PUPPY LOVER GIRL! ᡣ𐭩ᯓ

summary. upon coming to the race with your little girl, oscar and you are facing a challenging situation as your daughter gets completely enamoured with every dog she sees.

notes. oscar piastri x leclerc!wife!reader. first osc fic!!! (the obsession is getting out of hand). also pls let me know if you’d like to read something else with dad!oscar. also got inspired by @eccentricwritingbaby’s series with dad!lando!!!! didn’t proofread (idc)

dressed in an orange shirt with her dad’s number on the back, little chloe was an absolute ray of sunshine, whenever you took her to the race, which, honestly, wasn’t such a common occurrence as some people expected. your little girl loved coming to the race, mostly because it was a chance for her to meet all her favorite uncles in one place, while watching the cars drive really fast, which always made her giggle a little, especially once she started to recognize oscar’s car amongst others. despite her obvious love for the event, she was still a toddler and dragging her every other week to the airport to go to another country was something you and oscar decided to push further in time.

nevertheless, you could deny your husband the happiness of his little girl’s presence at his home race. as much as you hated the thought of such a long flight with a toddler, because the nice to melbourne flight was never a short one without any layovers, and you really tried to stick to at least some of chloe’s day schedule. but in the end it was the pure happiness in your husband’s eyes, when you spent two weeks in his home country before a race.

with said mclaren shirt with piastri written on her back, chloe was happily skipping, holding oscar’s hand as she looked around her, until a small gasp slipped her lips, freezing in her tracks, causing you to stop as well, your forehead creasing with confusion until your eyes followed hers. a puppy — simba, to be precise.

at first you thought she was scared, when her eyes widened in shock and, as you wrongfully assumed, fear, but she was quick to reveal her true feelings. a shy smile crept onto her face as she looked at oscar, who crouched to be on the same level as her. “daddy. i pet puppy, please?” her baby voice often made you and oscar’s mom jokingly call her oscar whisperer, because if you weren’t there to keep him in check, baby piastri would get every single thing she looked at. “let’s ask auntie kika first, okay?” oscar’s face lit up with a warm smile as he gently fixed his daughter’s piggytails.

back in monaco, you had a few situations, where you could learn your daughter how to behave around animals and she was picking it up pretty quickly. as horribly as it sounds, leo, your brother’s dog, was… a bit of a guinea pig, but since chloe was a literal little angel, who was afraid of making anyone sad (hence you had to put a ban on buying plushies as gifts, because she wanted every single one to sleep with her to the point where there was no more room on the bed for her), so there were never any fur or tail pulling, screaming into poor dog’s ear or anything that could cause any harm to leo and in consequence, to chloe.

a happy grin was plastered on her face, when kika and pierre walked up to them first, the girl quickly started gushing about the adorableness of her favorite papaya girl. “i pet puppy, please? ‘tie kika?” the three years old asked, holding her hands behind her back. “i gentle.” she adds, pointing at herself as if kika wasn’t completely drowning in the cuteness of the situation.

“of course, pumpkin. simba really missed you.” she chuckles softly, the two of you watching as chloe starts petting the small dog with delicacy, babbling something slightly incoherent to simba, who tried licking her fingers as she giggled. “you should get her a dog.” your friend laughed softly, nudging you with her elbow.

“we’re thinking about it, but i don’t think it’s gonna happen in near future.” you replied, a small smile tugging on your lips as chloe was completely infatuated with simba. “she’s still a lot of work, and you know how it is during the season, it’d be even more exhausting than it is now.”

few minutes later, after a quick chat with kika as you were walking down the paddock, catching up with oscar, who had to take a quick call. before you know it, your daughter squeales happily as she lets go of your hand, starting to run away, before oscar scoops her up in his arms. “hey, you can’t do that, squish.” oscar said gently. “you almost gave us a heart attack. if you wanna go somewhere, you have to tell us, okay?”

“suis désolée, daddy.” chloe replied a bit sadly as she pulled out her bottom lip. “but…” she scrunched her nose, unable to form a proper sentence in one language. “c’est uncle charles.” i’m sorry/it is.

“you still gotta tell me or mommy first.” oscar reminded her firmly, her sad pout breaking his heart a little, so… to change that, he smothered her face in small, quick kisses, making the toddler squirm in his arms, giggling cutely. “okay, c’mon, let’s say hi to uncle charles.”

as soon as baby piastri’s feet touched the ground, she ran for her life towards charles, the red pins in her hair being a small symbol of support for one of her favorite uncles. she was about to take a leap and jump into the driver’s arms, when she abruptly stopped mid-way, her mouth forming into a big ‘O’, girl’s attention has shifted from one beloved uncle to another as the youngest leclerc brother appeared in the line of her vision.

“uncle a’tty!” chloe squeaked even louder than before, happiness overflowing her adorable expression. arthur chuckled, taking a few long strides towards the three years old, before picking her up and doing a small spin, his niece erupting into a fit of giggles.

“my uncle a’tty.” she beamed, her arms wrapped around his neck, nuzzling her cheek against his. you could tell that your older brother’s heart just melted upon hearing chloe’s words, while your other older brother felt like he got stabbed with a knife.

“not a hi to your other best uncle?” charles asked in almost a desperate tone to get some attention from his favorite (and only) niece. oscar, you and alex just rolled your eyes playfully at his antics. a flicker of hope spread on his face as your daughter perked up slightly and let out a gasp.

“uncle lan?”

“oh, c’mon, squish.” your brother sighed, running a hand through his hair. a silly smile appeared on chloe’s face as she made grabby hands towards charles, who got over his exasperation pretty quickly. “play with leo, please?” she asks with big eyes and before you knew it, chloe was happily babbling to the mini dachshund.

although, the biggest fun she always had was with roscoe. mostly, because whenever she was around him, he was the chillest dog on the planet earth. she loved leo and simba, but they were still puppies with lots of energy and as much it would seem like chloe would love that, but when it came to doggies, she loved to just sit next to them and pet them endlessly.

that’s what she loved, whenever oscar and you took her to a race, that sometimes, beside being a bubbly little girl, cheering for her favorite person in the world along her second favorite person in the world, she could spend the time cheering and spending time with her favorite animals, while also being blissfully unaware of the tormenting of her mom’s brother.

[thebubblesareevil]

Who’s the bad guy here, really?

(This is pretty rushed, but I completely forgot about this and didn't want to abandon it. Hope you like it)

Danny was tired.

It had been 3 months since he ran away from home and joined the league…well technically he joined the JR league. Apparently, once the league realized he was actually a 15 year old, they decided that MAYBE they shouldn't have him fighting Bizarro on his own.

Danny didn’t get it, but they got him enrolled in school and made sure he wouldn’t miss too many classes so that was a bonus.

That was about a month ago and Danny was certain the main team was mad at him for lying about being a half ghost. He thought he made some real friends before they moved him to the Jr squad, but no one was answering him.

Any hero that DID answer him always gave the same excuse.

“I’m sorry Danny, I’d love to hang out but we have to deal with this new villain duo!”

What’s worse is that any enquiry about the so-called villains was greeted with nervous glances and swift retreats.

(Danny was sure there were no new villain, the team would have heard about them by now)

The team did their best to cheer him after every evasion, but it really wasn't helping.

He did this to himself, but that was fine. His family was safe and that's all that mattered.

Three months ago, the GIW launched an all out war against phantom in amity park. Anyone that was suspected of having anything to do with ghosts was taken in for questioning and wouldn't come back for days. They even started to get aggressive towards his parents after they started advocating for Phantom.

So Danny did the only thing he could.

He left, as publicly as possible, Danny ran away from the only home he had ever known to protect his family.

And now his friends had ditched him because he lied.

Danny felt like shit.

---------

"This is the third attack on a League base in 2 weeks." Batman said sternly to the heroes surrounding the table. He pressed a button.

A holograph appeared over the table depicting 2 Villains carrying large weapons, destroying everything in their wake. The 2 were incredibly resilient. The larger of the two was taking hits from wildcat and the smaller tossed canary across the room, completely ignoring her screams.

Both had been stationed at the outpost to guard against these exact 2 villains, and both were still recovering.

Their threat level was raised, now it was their turn to step in.

-------

Danny dragged himself out of bed as he got up early for training. He heard a knock at the door.

"Come in." He shouted as he put on his shirt.

Conner walked in, scowling as he saw some of the scars littering Danny's chest.

"You ready? We're training with Batman today."

Danny scoffed. "Ready? No. No one's ready for Batman, I am excited though.

The two headed towards the dining room to eat before training when suddenly the alarms blared. They rushed to the comm room, meeting up with M'gann on the way.

"What's going on?!" She asked, bracing herself as the base shook.

"No idea, whatever it is its not good."

As they rushed into the comm room they greeted by the sight of a woman fighting hand to hand with Batman. Superman was on the floor covered in green goop while a large man was getting ready to toss Green Arrow across the room.

The teens stood in shock. Though only one spoke.

Well, maybe spoke wasn't the right word.

"MOM?!?!? DAD?!?!" Danny yelled.

The man spun around suddenly, casually tossing green arrow across the room.

"DANNO!!! MADDIE ITS DANNY!!!"

The man raced over, only to be cut off by the Flash blocking his path.

"Danny, run! We'll hold them off, just get out of here!"

Danny stood there dumbfounded.

His dad on the other hand, wasn't.

"You stay away from my son you damn creep!" He shouted as the Flash charged him, somehow not noticing the man pull out...a baseball bat?

Danny winced as flash got hit with the Fenton anti-creep stick.

"Dad! Stop! They're my friends!" He tried to placate his dad.

"Friends don't convince you to run away from home to join a cult!" He then noticed the other two teens. "Holy Fudge! MADDIE THERES MORE KIDS!!!" He shouted as his wife held off the creep from Gotham.

"Dad! The League didn't make me leave! And it isn't a cult!"

This made the man pause.

"I left to protect you guys! The GIW was gonna come for you, so I led them away! I only joined the league so I could keep helping people!" Danny yelled.

The orange-clad man stopped, giving his son a sad look.

"It's not your job to protect us son, it's our job to protect you." He said picking his son up and wrapping him in a bear hug.

Conner just stood there confused as M'gann clapped and grinned out the outcome.

"Now can you tell mom to stop trying to mace Batman?" Danny asked when his dad put him down. The two turned to the fighting duo.

"Let's give them 5 more minutes. Your mom hasn't had this much fun since she ditched that cult in Asia."

(Feel free to take this idea and run with it. I like the idea that the fentons are a force of nature that defies explanation..but Maddie definitely stole their early ecto samples from the lazarus pit)

[sapphiressmoke]

Outlander I

Summary: She doesn’t know how it happened but they were calling to her to come closer. Touching it was never suppose to uproot her life and transport her somewhere she never thought she could see and witness. She has to try her best to survive if she wants to get back, right?

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen X Modern!Reader.

Warnings: Nothing as of now but angst, romance, smut

Word Count: 2.6K

Next Part

2024 AC Kings Landing

So this was the magical Kings Landing? Once the vast and lively city was now a place of desolation, solitude and history. It had been like this ever since the burning in 305 A.C between two Queens. You read about how it was a horrible event, many innocent people lost their lives… Even the two Queens. Since that moment, no more Targaryens roamed Westeros. It was now a place of history and learning. Most teachers brought their students here to see what they were being taught. Some parents dragged their kids here to learn of their heritage.

You were here for the first reason.

Being in your second year of Vale University, you were studying History and Literature. What were you going to with that degree? You have no idea but at least you were enjoying yourself… For the most part. “The Red Keep took many years to complete. Three reigns to be exact. What started on Aegon’s High Hill names Aegonfort. King Aegon the First used this fort as his seat during the conquest, housing the impeccable Iron Throne. Though it was destroyed in the battle of Kings Landing, paintings portrayed this throne as huge and intimidating.” Your group followed your professor as she guided everyone at the base of what the humongous Keep used to be. You looked around, red brick scattered over the floor. You mind raced as you thought of how these bricks were over 2000 years old, millions of people have touched them and now they were scattered all over the dirt floor. “It isn’t said when but at some point after the Conquest, the King ordered the destruction of the Fort and the construction of the Red Keep began. It was said that Aegon requested the castle be built with red rock to remind people of the fire he roasted and the blood he shed of his enemies, so whenever King’s Landing looked up they’d see the price of defiance.”

Your professor continued to talk but the sound of nature around you drowned it out. The sound of buzzing getting louder in your ear, getting louder and louder. “Ugh! You don’t hear that?” You brought your finger to your ears and tried wiggling it around to see if there was anything there.

“Hear what?” Your friend, Talia, said as she leaned in.

“That stupid buzzing sound. It won’t stop.” You groaned as you continued with your ear.

Your friend gave you a weird look. “I just think you’re going crazy. There is nothing.”

The buzzing softened and turned into a soft whisper, softer than wind. “Y/N… Darling… Y/N.”

You whipped your head back, trying to find the source of the noise. “Please told me heard that!” Before Talia could respond, your professor spoke faster. “Is there something you would like to add, Miss Y/N?”

Your face went beat red from embarrassment. “No ma’am… Sorry.” You said sheepishly.

“Thank you. Now where was I? Ah yes. The start of the fall of the Targaryens, it started when…” You started to zone out and looked back behind you, trying to figure out where the whisper came from. From the bottom of the hill, you spotted a man sporting an eyepatch, long silver hair and cladded in leather. He had his arm extended out towards you, as if he was waiting for you to come and grab it, calling you to run away with him but just as fast as you spotted him, he disappeared.

You felt your arm being grabbed and a hand stroke your upper arm. You turned towards Talia, who wore a worried look. “Is everything okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

You shook your head and ran a hand through your hair. “Yea… Yes. I’m good.” You grasped her hand that was on your upper arm. “Let’s just get this tour over with. It’s giving me the heebie jeebies.”

“You got that right.” She agreed. “But I heard that the Kingswood, which is just behind the hotel, is just as creepy. Maybe even haunted!”

128 AC Kings Landing

“Mother, please tell me I do not need to go to this hunt. There are better things I can do with my time.” The One-Eyed Prince has been trying for days to stay at the Keep, not wanting to waste a morning travelling to the Kingswood just for a hunt that he did not want to participate in.

The Queen sighed at her son, pushing a silver strand away from his stoic face. “Aemond… ‘Tis for Jaehaerys and Jaehaeras name day. Your brother wants to do a grand celebration for them. Especially for Jaehaerys.”

He rolled his one eye. “We all know that it’s an excuse for him to drink away… With reason this time.” He looked up at his mother. “Will father be coming?”

“The Maesters will assess The Kings health before letting us know but I do doubt that he will be able to join with the amount of pain he has been in.” The Queen replied. It has been no secret that The Kings has been declining the past couple of years. Decaying flesh, rotting teeth and constant pain. Drunk day in and out on milk of the poppy.

“If he does not go…” He tried to think of a reason to stay but was stump. “If he does not go then I shall stay here and watch over him.” Lies.

Alice by let out a chuckle. “You are quite the convincing liar, Aemond, but the Maesters will be here to aid your father in anything.” She walked away from her son and looked at the window, looking upon the people of Kings Landing. “I know you would much rather be here, reading in the library and training outside but it will do you some good to be away for a bit. Breath the good air of Kingswood.” She turned around to face her third child. “Plus, Ser Criston Cole shall be joining us if you ever do need to scratch the intense to train.”

Aemond rubbed his face and groaned. “I guess you are right, mother. But I will not ride with Aegon in the carriage. He’s an imbecile and will most likely throw up from all of the wine he has drank.”

“Thank you.” Alicent smiled. “You may ride with with me and Ser Criston. Halaena will be with the children and nurse while Aegon rides with Ser Arryk and Erryk as it seems they are the only ones that can deal with his shenanigans.”

“As I mentioned before… Imbecile.”

The night passed swiftly and once the sun started to rise and was on the horizon line, the Royal Family begun their travels to the Kingswood. Even though Aemond was never a talkative person, worsening after the incident with his eye, he seemed even more lost in his thoughts than usual. He stared out the window, sitting across from his mother who watched him intensely. “What is on your mind, sweet son?”

Aemond continued to look outside the window but sighed. “I had this weird dream. Was just flashes of images. Nothing clear. There was this woman… She seemed lost, searching for help. It sounded like she was calling out to me but the way she dressed did not seem normal.”

The Queen stayed silent for a moment before speaking. “Are you a Dragon Dreamer now?” She joked, causing a small smile to break on the princes face. “Dreams have many meanings. Perhaps it’s just a bad dream from the stress you put on yourself. Free your mind for the next couple of days. Perhaps even participate in the hunt.”

The hunt that went on in the Kingswoods happened every couple of years, usually to celebrate a names day for a royal child. The White Hart was usually the main goal of the hunt but any animal was game. “And if I were to meet the White Hart, would that not be a sign that I should be the King over my buffoon of a brother?” It was quite well known that Aegon did not desire to be King, fought against everything Even fighting with his Grand Father and Mother saying that it was his Half Sisters birthright but all of his complaints were going to a deaf ear. Aemond wished to rule. He was fit to rule and it was simple: he rode the largest dragon in all of Westeros, he excelled in combat and studied on the history and politics of his family and of Westeros but it would not go to him unless everyone in front of him died.

This was a conversation he had with his mother too often but his question was answered with silence. That was how the rest of the carriage ride went. Silence. The dream kept replaying over and over in his mind. Who was this girl? What was she doing? Who was she to him?

Within the next couple of hours, Lords and Ladies and the Royals arrived in Kingswood. The air still cold with the mornings breath. Everything was set up for them to place clothing, tables… Everything. The children were running about, screaming playfully with each other. Jaehaerys and Jaehaera came running towards Aemond, crashing into his legs. “Hi Uncle Aemond!” They squealed.

He looked down at his niece and nephew, rubbing the back of their heads before pushing them back on their way. “Hello you two.”

“Time travels back and is protected by the White King.” Helaena whispered into the cold air of the morning, staring at Aemond from across the way.

Aemond looked up to make eye contact with Halaena, seeing her lips move but not making out what she had said. He cocked his head to the side, deciding to walk towards his sister to see what she had said. She didn’t seem to realize that Aemond was by her side before he squeezed her hand. “What was that, good sister?” Helaena looked up at him and gave him a small smile. “Only Time can tell you… Only Time.”

The rest of day went on eventfully. The men prepared for the hunt while the women gossiped as they ate cake. Of course Alicent chose not to participate in the gossip. She could not bother to hear anymore about Rhaenyra, her bastard sons and how great they are. She decided to watch her grand-children run about. Aegon was nowhere to be found, most likely already drunk in his tent, Helaena chose to rest in her tent as the carriage ride took a lot out of her and Aemond sat with Criston Cole as they sharpened their swords, getting ready for the hunt. She stared around her and for a slight moment, she would think her life was perfect. She had her children and her grand-children around her but then she remembers that she is practically ruling the Seven Kingdoms, her husband was dying and she was alone in the world.

2024 AC Kingswood

You slipped on your black slip dress, continuing to argue with your friend in the hotel room. “You don’t get it, Talia! There is something calling to me out there. I’m not insane. I’m not crazy. It’s been going on ever since we entered Kings Landing.” The buzzing was constant, the whispering was constant and the flashes of that man were at every corner.

Talia sat on the bed, her eyes following you as you continued to pace around the room. “I’m not saying you’re crazy but you sound crazy, Y/N. A silver haired man with only one eye? Listen to yourself!”

You groaned and you pulled yourself into a ball. “I know what I sound like!” You stood back up and waved your arms around. “But this… This place is weird. There has been so many deaths and apparently fucking magic. There is something going on.” You grabbed your black shawl from your luggage and pulled in over your shoulders. “And I am going to figure it out.” You pointed to the woods. “I’m going to go in those stupid woods and try to find something. I don’t what I will try to find but I will know what it is when I see it.”

Your friend gave you a shocked look, standing up quickly and grabbed your arm. “Okay now I’m saying that you are crazy! There’s boars… Bears in those woods! You could die! What would your mom do if you die?”

You ripped your arm from her grasp. “Well she always knew I would die in a stupid way. Tell her I love her. And before you ask, no you can’t come. You’ll be the person to let the teacher know that I’m gone. If I’m not back before the next tour tomorrow morning, you can go all out and tell everyone I’m missing. Okay?”

You saw the perplexed look she wore in her face before answering. “Fine. Fine! If you die… Ugh!”

You put on your pair of shoes, grabbed your flashlight and placed it your bag before heading out. You stood in front of the forest and sighed, were you really this stupid? Yes, yes you were. You took one last look at the hotel before you made your way into the dark, insect infected forest… Gods you were dumb.

It had already been a few hours at this point, you were tired, you were hungry and you still had no idea what you were looking for. You kept hearing animal noises surrounding you and you were terrified. What if a wild boar chased you or a bear mauled you to death? What if you died of dehydration. How many days does it take to die or dehydration or hunger?

Suddenly the aura around you shifted and the whispering begun again. ‘You’re so close, Y/N. Continue.’ It was a man’s voice. It was so clear. ‘Continue straight, My Love, we’ll be together soon.’ The buzzing began and it only got louder as you continued walking straight. The further you walked, the higher the grass got. It was tickling your calves. It was as if a flash of light opened your eyes when all of the sudden a bunch of tall stones stood tall in front of you, being illuminated by the direct moonlight. The aura surrounding it was calling to you to come closer. “This is what I’ve been looking for.” You beamed with excitement.

The buzzing only got louder as you approached the Stones. The high grass tickled your calves, leaving tiny water droplets on your skin. The buzzing sounded as if it was whispering your name, soft as wind. “Y/N… Y/N…”. It only drew you closer.

The Stones had this silver and golden aura surrounding it. Were you the only one that could sense it? Were you the only one that could hear it? See it? Your thoughts were racing as you stood in front of the tall Stone. You raised your right hand to touch it, as if that was what it was telling you to do. The only thing you could do. For a moment you hesitated, wondering what you were doing, why were you here but it just kept calling out. “Y/N… Y/N…”

You let out a long breath and pressed your palm flat against the rough texture. Within the moment, all sound seized to exist around her, life was dark and as soon as it disappeared, everything reappeared.

128 AC Kingswood

You blinked your eyes fast, letting out a shaky breath. You stumbled backwards and the world wasn’t as you just saw. There were more trees surrounding you. The woods seemed to be more lively than before. “Oh Gods, what did I do.”

From back at the camp, Helaena felt the shift in the air. “Welcome home, Time.” Helaena smiled.

———————————————

SOOO what do we think? It’s only getting started and I’m so excited to see where this goes.

[verstappen-cult]

Max is upset when you can't be at his side when the race weekend starts. Then when you're back to his side, I guarantee you can't not leave his side at all. This boy is going to stick with you like a koala till he's satisfied

You couldn't join Max the past weekend in Australia due to your work and now you regret it so much. You could’ve just asked your boss for a few days off and she would have said yes, and you could have been by his side during the fiasco that was the Australian Grand Prix.

Max was a little upset when you told him that you would not be in Australia, but after a long conversation — that ended up with you promising to be in Suzuka — he understood. 

Max has to make a quick stop in Monaco to pick a few things before flying to Japan, so you planned to wait for him with a delicious dinner and his favorite dessert. But you didn’t even have time to go to the grocery store because Max decided to arrive earlier, much earlier.

“What do you mean you’re outside?” You squeal, putting on your sneakers. “Outside of where?” You hold your phone between your cheek and shoulder as you grab your bag, waving goodbye to your friends.

“The pilates studio.” He simply says. 

“No, you’re in Australia.”

He laughs, “No, I’m in Monaco.”

“No becau—” You stop dead in your tracks when you step outside because he is, in fact, there, leaning against his car. “Max!”

He opens his arms and you don’t waste any time, colliding against his body. You drop everything just to wrap your arms around his shoulders.

“I missed you so much.” You whisper against his neck, and you feel his smile when he kisses your cheek. 

“I couldn’t stay there any longer,” He shrugs, grabbing your things from the floor. “I missed my lucky charm this weekend.”

Your smile fades at the memory of Sunday’s race. “I’m sorry for what happened.” Max shrugs again, dismissing the topic with a wave of his hand. “How are you feeling?”

“These things happen. I won’t lie and say that I don’t care but we can’t cry about it, the team’s working on fixing everything and we’ll be back stronger than ever.”

You kiss him because there’s nothing else you could do. Hearing him talk that way when you know the old Max would have been beating himself up means everything to you.

“What was that for?” He chuckles when you pull away, a faint blush on his cheeks. 

“What? I can’t kiss my boyfriend now?” He rolls his eyes but leans to leave a chaste kiss on your lips. “Can you drop me off at the grocery store? I need to buy a few things for dinner.”

You fall into an easy conversation as he drives through the streets of Monaco. He tells you about everything that's wrong with the car and what they’re doing to fix those issues and, in return, you tell him what you’ve been doing in his absence, and how much the cats miss him. 

Soon enough, you reached your destination. 

“Okay, I won’t be long. You can go home and—what are you doing?”

“I’ll come with you.”

“No, you’re going home to rest.” But he doesn’t listen. Max just gets out of the car, opens the door and helps you out. “Max.”

He groans, “I just,” He drops his head slightly forward. “I missed you so much, I don’t want to leave you.”

Your heart melts and you can’t say no to him, not when he’s looking like a lost puppy in front of you, so you simply take his hand, dragging him inside.

Of course you don’t miss the way his whole face lights up. 

You end up arguing in the milk aisle because Max doesn’t leave your side, not when you try to move away to grab something you need and definitely not when you bump into one of your friends who you haven’t seen in a while, so you’re unable to hug her. 

The argument ends with you pinned against the store shelves with Max whispering filthy things in your ear. You only pull away when the store manager clears his throat saying that “if you don’t stop right now, you’re gonna be banned for life.”

You think that once at home Max will want to take a rest, forgetting about you, but, to your surprise, he just takes a quick shower before joining you in the kitchen. 

You cook dinner together, with a few kisses and ear scratches to the cats. And then you eat together, talking about everything and nothing at all, enjoying each other’s company. 

Of course Max doesn’t let you shower alone, he joins you there too.

[satoruhour]

Need sukuna in racer au 😩

REWARDS FROM A RACER

a/n: more of smut than him being a racer …. im not opposed to doing a ‘how they met’ ngl

wc: 2.1k

warnings: ooc sukuna, dom!sukuna, lewd declarations in public, he’s a little mean and calls you ‘whore’, ‘slut’, praise, degradation, pet names, car sex, semi-public sex, oral (m! receiving), light face-fucking, unprotected sex, riding, p → v penetration, clit stimulation, dash of daddy kink, creampie / breeding kink, n*sfw under the cut

“doll, c’mon, we don’t have much time till the race starts.” 

“i know, ’kuna! give me a minute, ’m just tightening the screws on the crankshaft.” you already hear the joke from miles away, a soft chuckle comes after he mumbles “heh, shaft” and you resist the urge to roll your eyes while stifling a smile. it seems like sukuna had enough of waiting for you in the driver’s seat, so he meets you at the front of the car where the hood is popped.

if anyone told you sukuna was someone who would’ve made time for anyone else but himself, you would laugh in their face because when had ryomen “king of curses” sukuna ever thought about anyone but himself? he had all that he could have: a ’66 Ford GT40 (that he named king of curses — a tad bit goofy, he knows), girls on his arm, first place for every race he took part in. he was untouchable.

but during a night in the midst of a drag race he saw you outside a club, barely catching a glimpse of you shoving off a man who couldn’t take no for an answer. he wasn’t surprised to see kenjaku — another racer from another region and someone who he had an infamous rival with — laugh when he had come to your rescue, cut off when the king of curses landed a clean hit to the other’s face. sukuna made sure you were okay after the whole debacle, but he also fucked you silly to show you how a man should really be treating you.

it was the only race he ever lost.

“sometimes i forget how much shit you put up with when you’re with me,” sukuna grins, a sneaky hand moving from your waist to your ass to squeeze it, “fixing my engine like an obedient little girl.”

you simply turn to him with a bored expression, but you can’t deny the throb between your legs when he talks to you like that, “glad you’re self aware, ’kuna.”

“smart mouth you have there, hm?” sukuna pulls you even closer against his front and you can already feel the half-hard bulge there. he’s always hard before a race, too. that you know, because it’s an emerging characteristic of his that you’re not opposed to because sukuna ends up pounding into you in his driver’s seat once the race is finished. he just can’t help the adrenaline, can’t he?

“guess i’ll just have to ruin you,” sukuna cuts off your next reply with a messy kiss, swallowing the soft moans that leave your mouth at the temporary relief you’re getting from grinding on him, “later.”

you scoff, feigning annoyance, “yeah, yeah, i know. you never miss a race.”

sukuna just smiles, smacking your ass slyly and makes his way to the driver’s seat before you have time to gasp, simply raising an eyebrow (“don’t tell me you didn’t like that?”) when you slap his chest later in the passenger seat.

“oh god, he’s going to do that thing again right?” beside you are the other more prominent racers of tokyo, the famous four excluding sukuna. gojo is the one who asked the question, nudging you with a grin that’s got you groaning into your hands. slowly, you nod.

across from you is sukuna in his Ford GT40, shouting with his windows rolled down, “i’m gonna fuck you so good after i win this race, princess!” and while you’re turned on at the prospect, you’re also wincing at how everyone whoops and cheers because he does this in every race. it never gets old, though, just as the laughter of the other four floods your ears.

“do you really have to scream it every time?” you lean down to the window once the two cars are at the starting line, running a hand through his mildly sweaty locks. his perspiration is a little pink from the dye he’s used to top up the colour of his hair and you jokingly wipe your wet hands on his top.

sukuna grabs your wrist, pulling you gently to give you a noisy, sloppy kiss, his words whispered against your lips, “they have to know how you scream every night.”

you tsk with a laugh, hand reaching down to palm his dick that makes him grunt, “give ’em hell, baby.”

and he definitely makes the other wish he never was born. sukuna likes to play dirty, bumping into the rear of the other when he’s behind, sending a middle finger to the racer when he passes him, it’s part of why your boyfriend tends to prefer solitude because he’s not on everyone’s good side.

with skidding tires, sukuna finishes with a dashing grin, but he’s so focused on you that he doesn’t realise the crowd around him, some reaching forward to congratulate him, others wanting to touch his car. the racer barks out before anyone can violate his ride.

“oi, you fuckin’ idiots dare touch my car and i swear i’ll fuck up yours.”

beside you, geto mutters out a yeesh while gojo just giggles, patting your shoulder before you bid goodbye to the famous four. the crowd makes way for you, naturally, when you walk towards his car, because what kind of mental person willingly dates sukuna? they follow your figure as you make your way to him, swaying your hips for everyone to see, but you hardly care when all you can fixate on is his promise to you before every race starts.

and all he does that night is fulfil his promise, whisking you away from the cramped parking lot and into the late tokyo roads, whizzing past street lamps and cop cars and howling at the top of his voice. he loves it, he loves you and you see it every time he drives you home after a late night race and every time he noisily drives up to you when someone’s bothering you.

sukuna loves your body, too, because all you know later on is his cock in your mouth on a quiet, remote mountain used for drifting. with the winter season approaching, it was desolate, except for the way your head bobs up and down on his length, which hardens even more inside your mouth.

“that’s it, fuckkk yes.” sukuna groans, a hand clutching onto the leather of his seat while the other finds purchase in your hair, pulling on your locks till it hurts. with his hips moving erratically paired with the soreness in your jaw, it’s really the only thing you can concentrate on in an awkward position while hovering over the stick shift. “suck like the dirty cockslut you are.”

“’kuna, mmfhh—!” your hands rush to find his thighs on a particularly deep thrust, tip hitting the back of your throat and you look up at sukuna through teary lashes and breathe through your nose before he lets you off briefly. but your mouth is too warm just like how your pussy feels and sukuna forces your head onto him again.

sukuna groans when he lets you do your own thing, mouth taking half of him while your hands help you with the other, alternating between taking sucking the bottom of his cock and lapping at his tip, continuing to flutter your lashes at him.

“stick out your tongue f’me, doll,” he manages to choke out a moan, grabbing his cock to slap it on your tongue (it’s so heavy that you moan), making lewd sounds before he starts thrusting again, feeling every inch of your mouth with no time to warn you of his impending orgasm until the car is filled with his incessant groans and grunts, hips faltering at how your mouth just keeps sucking. “fuck— i’m cumming.” sukuna spills unexpectedly, shooting his cum deep down your throat and you moan around his shaft. he’s not laughing now, focused solely on getting every last bit of cum into your system as he tilts his head back in utmost pleasure. 

“take all of it,” his movements slow down, admiring how you look like you worship him with a lax mouth and pleading eyes, and he knows you do, but before that he’s ensuring you know that his worship of you overtakes yours by miles, pulling you impatiently to his seat before dragging your panties to the side. the other likes it when you wear skirts, easy access he says, licking his lips in anticipation when he sees how the fabric sticks to your cunt from how wet you were, leaving a string of arousal that snaps once it’s far enough.

“well? what’re you waiting for?” sukuna raises an eyebrow, a small chuckle leaving him when you mumble out a i’m getting to it! as you gather the slick leaking from your needy pussy. the feel of his mushroom tip against your clit is gratifying and you line him up before sinking down slowly. even after taking him multiple times, his size always makes your eyes widen and jaw drop at the stretch, incoherent whimpers leaving as he watches you take all nine inches of him.

“s’kuna, f-fuck…” you wrap your arms around his neck, suddenly shy at being so spread open for him to see, “s’big, you’re so big!” he hums, pressing little kisses down the side of your face while kneading your ass, plush thighs nestled around his pelvis so cutely that he appreciates your brief pause before you start riding him — because he can’t resist cumming when he sees you crying on top of him, trying his best to prolong the way you feel around him.

“i know i’m big, but you’re taking me so well, aren’t you, baby?” sukuna coos, holding your eyes that struggle to stay open as you bounce on his thick cock, ass meeting his hips in noisy pap’s as you flood his car with whining pleas of him filling you to the brim. there’s a white ring of pre-cum at the base of his shaft where your juices mix, dripping down the hilt and onto his balls, definitely soaking his leather seats. “just a whore for me to fuck stupid, yea?”

you nod frantically, babbling to no one as you throw your head back, pussy clenching when his lips meet your tits and he sucks hard on your nipples, flicking his tongue around your buds before moving to the other. “got so t-tight from me doing that,” sukuna laughs, wrapping a hand ’round your chin to force you to look at him. lips pursed, eyes blown wide from his cock in your cunt, hair sticking to your forehead, he swear he could cum deep in you right there and then.

“you love how i stretch you out?” he then yanks your head down to make you watch how your pelvis meets his, juices spurting in all directions by how wet you were. it truly was a sight, how his cock disappears into you and reappears, thighs burning from how fast you were bouncing on him.

“love it s’much, daddy,” you whine, eyes rolling to the back of your skull as you grab his free hand, bringing it to your neglected clit that’s been throbbing all night, “but i n-need you here, s’kuna…” and when he starts to rub circles into your puffy clit, you jolt at the feeling, screaming out obscenities at the sensations that overwhelm your body. he knows you’re getting tired and close, too.

so he shocks you by thrusting up, your body immediately halting to receive the way he rails into you and while your muscles are still cramping, it’s infinitely better than riding him. with his thrusts and his hand on your clit, you can already feel the coil in your stomach turning as your body slumps against him, “daddy!”’s spilling from your lips with mixed wanton moans. “that’s it, a good little slut who’s taking daddy’s cock, fuck—”

“so warm, and tight,” within seconds, his thrusts are irregular when you start to clench around him again, high-pitched whines filling his ears before you reach your high with a slack jaw and trembling thighs, body lined with sweat. but it’s the way your cum leaks down his length that gets sukuna releasing after you, the familiar pleas of wanting his cum deep in your cunt. he does just that, grunting into your neck when his hips thrust deeply before he releases his hot, thick semen into your pussy, gushing out because there’s just so much.

“love it when i breed my girl,” he mutters with a laugh breathlessly while you’re moaning softly at how he’s still spilling into you, overflowing cum leaking from your cunt even when he’s still inside. sukuna grins when your hips never really stop, still continuing to grind aimlessly.

“love my sweet girl who can’t think of anything but getting fucked stupid.”

[yungistiny]

camgirl ═ chapter three

[ S. Mingi ]

chapter three: beautiful mess

╚═════════

summary: mingi just really needs some cash and he was told all he had to do was hold a camera. simple enough. he just didn’t anticipate the type of content he’d be helping to create

warning: emo mingi, stoner mingi, switch mingi, switch reader, mingi is hung, creampie, unprotected sex, choking, spanking, masturbation, rough sex, degradation, size kink, spitting, deep throating

pairing: mingi x afab/reader

genre: smut, angst, drama, romance

word count: 5.2k

chapter one

chapter two

chapter four coming soon

masterlist

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Wooyoung let himself inside y/n house with the spare key she had given him. Rain poured outside as he kicked his shoes off, dragging his feet into the living room where his best friend sat on the couch, Gladiolus, the giant cat perched on the back of it.

Y/N glanced up at Wooyoung from where she sat with her favorite hot pink grinder in her hand. “Did you get any?” She arched a brow at him. Wooyoung grinned, pulling the neon green baggy from his hoodie pocket.

“Come on, you took all day!” Y/N had been waiting for Wooyoung for hours, it was Wednesday, his off day, and he always went to see her on his off days. Always bringing her some of Johnny’s best stuff.

“I had to wait for Johnny to get back forever.” Wooyoung pouted. It’s not his fault Johnny had to go pick up some new stuff from the main man. Kim Hongjoong was not the dealer to piss off so Johnny certainly wasn’t going to keep him waiting.

Y/N rolled the sleeves of her old oversized black Fall Out Boy shirt up, grabbing the black rolling tray off the glass coffee table. Wooyoung grabbed the tv remote as she started to roll a blunt, waiting for the tv to connect to the wifi before going to netflix.

Y/N grinded up a couple of buds, rolling them up into the blueberry wrap in her hands, tongue darting out to lick and seal it. “You sent Mingi to me on purpose, didn’t you?”

Wooyoung smirked, finding some horror movie to turn on. He knew y/n would realize the second she layed eyes on Mingi, that Wooyoung purposely chose him for a reason. That reason being, Mingi was exactly her type. “I didn’t see you complaining last night.”

Y/N lit and took a long hit from the blunt before passing it to Wooyoung. “You even named him.” He giggled. “Like a puppy.”

“Shut up!” Y/N shoved him, face flushed. She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Mingi since she met him. It hasn’t even been a full 24 hours yet. 23 and 45 minutes to be exact.

She had texted him last night, asking him if he’s been tested recently, both of them sending each other a pic of proof. She even mentioned how she was on birth control.

Y/N only wanted to take Mingi one way and the thought alone had her needing Friday to hurry up and get there.

“My friends are having a party tonight,” Wooyoung hit the blunt, the smoke exhaling slowly out of his mouth, his tongue darting out to lick at his lip ring. “San’s gonna be there and I want a round two.” He grinned causing y/n to roll her eyes at him.

She hadn’t met this San guy yet but Wooyoung never shut up about him, especially after they had hooked up like a month ago at……

“Wait a minute…” She remembers now, she had thought Mingi’s name was familiar to her when Wooyoung had texted her about him helping her. “It was Mingi’s birthday where the two of you hooked up!”

“Yeah, I told you that.” Wooyoung shrugged hitting the blunt again as y/n was now distracted. “So…. San is his roommate?” She also remembers Wooyoung mentioning something about it when he had practically skipped into her house the day after all giddy.

“Best friend actually and also, yes.” Wooyoung cursed, hissing like a cat when he dropped a fiery ash on his pants, smacking at it. “Will Mingi be there?” Y/N hoped she didn’t sound that interested but clearly she did from the way Wooyoung smirked at her knowingly. “Mingi never misses a party.”

Y/N grabbed the blunt back from him, heart racing at the thought of seeing Mingi outside of… well, what he was helping her with. “We should go.”

Wooyoung giggled. “Of course we should!”

What he failed to mention however was that the friend throwing a party was Mingi.

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

“Hoshi and Dk just got here and they’ve already almost caught the bathroom trash on fire.” San sounded exasperated after getting back from locking Byeol up in his bedroom.

Mingi snorted from where he was pouring himself and Jaehyun shots of soju. “It’s not funny.” San huffed as he shoved past an already drunk Boo Seungkwan who was busy singing loudly over the song blasting from the tv, the remote working as a microphone.

“Put that down!” San pointed a finger at Hoshi who had picked up a stool from the small kitchen island, holding it over his head as loud knocking banged at the front door of the apartment. He walked over, shaking his head at the chaos of their friends and opening the door, face flushing red at the sight of Wooyoung.

“Sannie!” Wooyoung beamed at him, throwing his arms around him dramatically. San caught him, gaze now catching sight of the girl behind Wooyoung. “Hi.” He greeted her politely, never having met her before. She was dressed in ripped skinny jeans, black converse, the black lacy bralette visible under the sheer black shirt and cropped dark red leather jacket.

“Y/N, this is San!” Wooyoung pulled away from him, reaching back and grabbing y/n hand, pulling her with him inside the apartment. “Here,” San helped her out of her jacket, hanging it up in the small closet beside the door.

Y/N thanked him, removing her shoes, eying the apartment, taking in the scent of strawberry coming from the pink candle lit on the coffee table in the open living room where Seungkwan was singing along with a girl she didn’t know.

“Y/N…” Seungkwan froze when he saw her, blushing and fidgeting. “I…. I didn’t know you would be here.” Last time he saw her he had dropped her camera, stuttering and hard in his pants before she could even get started on her stream.

“Hi,” the other girl waved at her, flaming red hair up in two pigtails. “I’m Yuqi, it’s nice to finally have another girl around these idiots.”

“Hey!” San pouted causing Yuqi to roll her eyes. “Except you San.” San beamed at her then, looking proud he wasn’t considered a complete and total idiot like the rest of his friends. “Trust me I’d much rather be down the hall in my room right now.”

“Wait..” y/n furrowed her brows. “this is your apartment?” San was Mingi’s roommate which meant this was where Mingi lived, not just some party he’d might be at.

San nodded at her as Wooyoung started trailing his hand up his arm. “You didn’t tell me that.” She gave a pointed look at Wooyoung who shrugged. “Must of slipped my mind.”

“Oh, hello,” Hoshi slid up in front of y/n seemingly out of nowhere. “I don’t believe we’ve met,” he grinned at her, his platinum blonde hair standing out. “I’m Hoshi.”

“And I’m DK!” Seokmin appeared beside Hoshi, smirking. “We’re like a two for one special.”

Seungkwan snorted and Yuqi had to cover her mouth to keep from laughing. Hoshi glared at his best friend as y/n smirked at them, the same smirk she’d given her viewers. “Not in this lifetime.”

Wooyoung cackled and San had to bite his bottom lip to retain himself from laughing. “Y/N, you want a drink?” He motioned for her to follow him towards the kitchen, leaving a now annoyed Hoshi behind to smack his best friend in the back of the head. “Why the hell would you say that?”

Mingi had his head thrown back, downing a shot of everclear, Choi Jongho and Mark Lee’s idea. The alcohol burned, his eyes closing shut and a cough leaving him. “Fuck…” he blinked his eyes back open, shaking his head.

“San,” he smirked when he saw him appear. “Take a shot,” he grinned, his best friend was a light weight. “I want to see how red your face can get.”

San glared at him, pushing Mark out of the way a little to reach the fridge. “We have a little mix of everything..” San gestured for y/n to look in the fridge and choose herself something cold to drink.

Mingi froze. His eyes following her, taking in every inch of her. She certainly looked different without all the pink. His gaze lingered at the exposed skin under the sheer black long sleeved shirt. The lacy bralette so tempting, his fingers itching to grip the black silky choker around her neck. “What are you doing here?”

“You two know each other?” San looked between them, the tension suddenly thick, heavy and hot. “Holy shit!” Jaehyun sort of whispered, semi shouted. Jongho and Mark stared at her, gulping, mouths slightly open because they all knew, well except San apparently, who y/n was.

Y/N smirked at Mingi, arching a brow at him as Wooyoung interrupted them. “She’s my friend Mingi’s working with.”

Jaehyun choked beside Mingi on his own shot of everclear. Oh, Mingi was certainly working with her.

“Oh,” San looked from Wooyoung and around everyone else in the kitchen. He had a feeling there was something he was missing. Like an inside joke he wasn’t apart of. “Please don’t fire him.”

San was a nice guy, a genuinely nice guy and y/n gave him a genuine smile in return. “Hi, y/n!” Jaehyun, Mark and Jongho all greeted her in unison causing Mingi to glare at them.

Mingi had learned quickly after his friends had arrived that all three of them plus seungkwan were failed cameramen for y/n. There was a part of Mingi that didn’t like the thought of his friends being with her, even if they had only held a camera for a short while.

He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about y/n all day. It was starting to drive him crazy. It’s why he had called his friends to all come over, he needed a distraction.

Now, here she was, in his apartment invading all his walls he was trying to put up which is crazy considering he’d only met her just the day before.

What the fuck was wrong with him? Mingi never got attached. He didn’t do relationships and dating. Not that he was getting attached to y/n or anything.

He was avoiding her the rest of the night and he had no idea why. At one point he had to clench his jaw and grab another bottle of soju when both Hoshi and Seokmin kept flirting with her.

Mingi needed a blunt, and not the sharing kind either. He slipped off, disappearing into his room. He slid his glasses off, placing them on his bedside table, the only light in the room coming from the red shaded lamp that sat there too.

His door left open like usual as he grabbed his stash out from under his mattress. Long fingers rolling the blunt expertly, darting his tongue out to lick and seal it.

The first exhale mixed with the alcohol in his system was already relaxing him. The second hit exhaled through his nose as he got comfortable on his bed, sitting back against the black headboard, eyes closed.

The third hit had him choking when a voice interrupted his daze.

“Are you avoiding me?” Y/N stood in the doorway of his room after asking San and using the bathroom. Mingi’s room was right across the hall, door open and he looked very enticing, very tempting the way he relaxed in his bed, blunt in hand, the scent of the weed mixing with his own.

“I’m not…” Mingi had to catch his breath from the smoke catching in his lungs. “avoiding you.” He was such a fucking liar and the way y/n arched a brow at him, lips tugging into a slight amused smirk, he knew she knew he was lying.

Y/N should definitely just get back to where everyone else was, being alone with Mingi, no camera, no one watching, was dangerous for her. He was everything she was attracted to and everything she tried to avoid.

“You want a hit?” Mingi let the words leave him before he could think. And y/n responded just as quickly before she could stop herself. “Sure.”

Y/N stepped into his room, eying the shadowed corners and the dark gray painted walls. A black record player sat atop a dark mahogany dresser. A black three tier shelf was perched on the wall with records.

A light gray ipad in a clear case sat on a small wooden desk in the corner along with a stereo and an orange tinted glass bong. A small bookshelf made out of the same dark mahogany as his dresser held mangas, some weathered at the creases indicating that Mingi loved them most.

Mingi himself watched her as she observed his sanctuary as he liked to call it before she crawled onto his bed, the black comforter pulling and twisting with her movement. He swore she did it on purpose.

Y/N got herself comfortable next to him, sitting against the headboard, legs stretched out in front of herself as she took in the gray sweatpants he wore. They left little to the imagination as her gaze lingered farther down.

“You sure you want everyone to see how much of a mess I’ll make you?”

His words had been playing in her head since he said it to her.

She knew he had to be big, he was tall, his hands were huge, his shoulders broad under his baggy shirts. And y/n didn’t know if he just wasn’t wearing any underwear or if he really was just big enough to be noticeable in sweats. It was probably both.

Mingi offered her the blunt, his black painted nails already chipping again. His hand brushed hers and he realized the last time he touched her had been when his fingers were buried inside of her.

He watched her, eyes not able to look away from her as she brought the blunt to her lips. Fuck! Why was this turning him on? He tried to shift his focus on the music echoing from the living room where now it was Hoshi and Jongho singing.

“You look different.” Mingi didn’t mean to say that out loud, he had just been thinking about it a lot though since he first saw her in the kitchen earlier.

Y/N passed the blunt back to Mingi, noticing the way he didn’t look at her, head leaned back against the headboard, eyes closed as he hit the blunt.

“What?” She arched a brow at him, accepting the pass of the blunt back to her. “Did you think I dressed head to toe in pink everyday?”

Y/N hated how attractive he was, especially the way he opened his eyes, side eyeing her. Mingi’s voice had dropped an octave deeper due to the high he was now on and y/n really hated the way it made her slightly clench her thighs together.

“Your house has pink everywhere.” Mingi argued causing y/n to roll her eyes as she handed him the blunt back. “I like pink, it’s my favorite color. It also helps people not to recognize me easily when I look the exact opposite offscreen.”

Mingi faced her then, letting his eyes travel from her eyes that were outlined with the darkest black eyeliner to the valley of her breast he could see displayed in the bralette under the sheer shirt.

Y/N felt her breath hitch when his finger dipped between her skin and the black choker around her neck, curving his index finger to tug at the choker a little, it tightening with his intrusion. “You should wear this Friday.”

Mingi was losing himself, it felt like he was under some kind of spell around her. He took another hit of the blunt, holding it back out to her and smirking when she froze for a second, she really wanted him to pull at her choker again.

Y/N grabbed the blunt, it was pretty much gone, and took a long last hit, the smoke filling her lungs as Mingi pouted. “You finished it.” He always liked to get the last hit.

Mingi sat up abruptly when y/n crawled into his lap, straddling him, the blunt now burnt out and placed on his rolling tray on his bedside table. “What are you doing?” His hands instantly went to her hips, gripping them and stifling a moan when her ass practically grinded against him.

Now he really wished he would have worn some underwear under the sweatpants he had on because he was sure there was no way she wasn’t feeling his length, the hardness of him against her.

And she certainly did feel it, certainly big like she had suspected. Y/N gripped Mingi’s chin, moving her face closer, lips brushing his.

Mingi realized what she was doing, opening his mouth a little to allow her to blow the smoke she had kept locked in her own and fuck did he get harder.

“Mingi? Have you seen…” San gasped, avoiding his eyes from them. Why did Mingi never shut his damn door? “Y/N, Seungkwan and Yuqi are looking for you, wondering if they can catch a ride with you back to your side of the city.”

Mingi could slap the shit out of his best friend in that moment. “Sure.” Y/N voice sounded so much like it had the day before on the livestream, all breathy, full of lust and Mingi felt his dick twitch.

Y/N crawled out of his lap, sliding off his bed, smiling at San and turning to smirk back at Mingi. “I’ll see you Friday.”

San watched y/n walk back up the hall and into the living room, turning his amused and slightly exasperated gaze back onto his best friend. “I thought I told you not to sleep with her?”

Mingi groaned, his dick aching in his sweats. “I haven’t.” He sighed, a small lopsided smile pulling at his lips.

“Yet.”

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

By the time Friday had arrived both Mingi and Y/N were so sexually frustrated that they both woke up in a bad mood.

First, Thursday, Mingi’s dad pissed him off. He had found out that Mingi’s mom sent him money, money he sent back mind you!

Then he had to do the one thing that really pissed Mingi off. Compare him to his older brother.

”You’re 25 years old Mingi. By the time your brother was your age he was already married and helping me run the restaurant.”

Mingi was not his older brother and never would be. And he hated when someone compared them. Don’t get him wrong, he loves his older brother but he had been compared to him his entire life.

Second, Thursday, Y/N step mother decided to visit her. Of course, like always, her step mother had to scold and berate her over every little thing.

“I swear, this is your father’s fault! He spoiled you too much, him and your grandmother. Every choice you make is in poor taste. Always dressed so dreary, not even trying to settle down! You’re 25 years old, don’t you think it’s time to grow up?”

By the time it was time for them to meet up, Mingi was running late, sleeping half the day away and then waking up to jump into the shower. He didn’t even have time to get high before leaving, no time to relax his irritation.

Y/N was growing irritated with Mingi now, huffing when he was becoming well of half an hour late. She started to think that maybe he had changed his mind, perhaps he wouldn’t show up at all?

But of course he showed up. Mingi needed to lose himself, cloud his mind and y/n was the perfect distraction. “You’re late.” Y/N had her arms folded across her chest that was covered by an oversized vintage Metallica shirt. Her voice having a bite to it that only turned Mingi on.

“Well let’s get started then.” He kicked his shoes off, pulling his oversized black Diesel hoodie off, tossing it onto her couch where her cat decided to curl up into it.

Y/N gaze lingered on his arms and the way the black tank top fit him, ascentiuating his waist. And y/n could have sworn he had the sluttiest waist she’s ever seen on a man.

Mingi followed her up to her room, smirking when he noticed she had worn the choker just like he had made sure to wear those gray sweatpants he noticed she liked.

Being in her room made Mingi realize what was going to happen and fuck did he need it. He could feel himself growing harder just thinking about being in her mouth.

“You can sit the camera up over there.” Y/N gestured towards a stand that was angled towards her bed.

Mingi waited for y/n to finishing getting ready, his eyes not leaving her once as she pulled her underwear down her legs, this time a black lacy pair.

His gaze was so dark, filled with so much need and lust it was suffocating as he watched her grab the same little pink vibrator she had used the last time. Mingi knew the second she had him in her mouth he was gonna lose it.

There’s no way he was gonna be able to just let her suck his dick and then go home. Mingi felt like he was on a high when he was around her. Getting that same euphoric haze he got after smoking weed or eating a handful of edibles.

He felt like he was on autopilot turning the camera on, getting the stream started, anxious to have her already and didn’t give a shit how many watched.

Y/N greeted the viewers, that sweet, innocent smile on her face. Fuck, Mingi wanted to ruin her. He wanted to mark her. He wanted to feel her so good she’d be drunk on him for days.

Mingi watched her, easing closer towards her with the camera, his gaze not leaving her breasts hidden behind the black lacy bra she had on.

“Spike?”

Mingi blinked, meeting her gaze and realizing she had been talking to him amidst his daze. “What?” His voice was deep, unrecognizable to his own ears.

Y/N had to keep from glaring at him. He had been distracted the entire time, like her words were going through one ear and out the other. “Are you joining me or not?” There was a bite to her voice again and Mingi seemed to snap out of his daze.

Y/N watched him take the camera over to the stand, moving it closer towards the bed and angling, zooming in slightly.

She felt some of her irritation leave her when Mingi pulled his black tank top off, tossing it in the computer chair. He was so toned, his abs perfectly outlined, a light happy trail from his belly button disappeared under the waistband of his sweats.

Mingi didn’t even try hiding his face, he didn’t care who saw him. He actually felt a bit of adrenaline at all those watching would see him have her.

Y/N felt her heart start racing when Mingi kneeled on the bed in front of her, still towering over her as he slipped two of his fingers under her choker, pulling her towards him.

“You know…” Mingi tugged at the choker and used his other hand to grip her chin, thumb brushing her bottom lip. “I don’t think you can fit me in there.”

Y/N clenched her thighs together, forgetting about the stream as soon he touched her. A moan escaped her when the little pink vibrator started, the viewers already sending in, ready for them to get started.

“First…” Mingi pulled both his hands back, fingers tracing the straps of her bra before sneaking around and unhooking it expertly. He wanted to dive in, take his time for both of her perfect fucking tits but right now he was needy.

He smirked at the dazed look in y/n eyes, her hand reaching for the waistband of his sweats. He wasn’t the only needy one. Her breathy words that came tumbling from her lips made Mingi lose it. “Please fuck my face.”

Mingi stepped off the bed, standing right at the foot of it and held y/n gaze as he pulled his sweats down, pooling at his feet. He was big, y/n felt herself clenching around nothing, aching suddenly, aching to know what it would feel for him to stretch her. To fill her.

Y/N slid across the bed to him, the vibrator suddenly pulsing faster as she laid down before him on her stomach and elbows, looking up at him, face level with his hard dick.

Mingi tangled a hand into her hair, pulling her head back further. “Open your mouth.” His voice was deep and dominant. She did as he told her to in an embarrassing quickness. Instantly doing as he commanded.

She blinked, gasping, when he spit down into her mouth. “Show me.” Mingi tugged at her hair and y/n moaned, holding her tongue out where his spit was.

“I’m gonna make sure you fit every single inch,” he gripped himself in his free hand. “and I’m not gonna stop until you feel me…” he let his grip in her hair go, trailing his fingers to the back of her neck inching up to where the back of her throat would be. “right here.”

Y/N wasted no more time with his slight teasing, tongue darting out to lick up the length of him, tracing the veins of his dick like she was trying to paint a masterpiece.

“Fuck.” Mingi once again gripped her hair, tugging it a little harsher then before, his dick twitching, precum leaking from the tip which y/n licked clean. “Stop teasing.”

Y/N reached out, gripping at his thighs to brace herself as she brought his tip into her mouth, sucking and lapping at it with her tongue. A guttural moan left Mingi as he now tangled both his hands into her hair, gripping tightly as he pulled her head back. “Remember what I told you when you asked for this?”

“You sure you want everyone to see how much of a mess I’ll make you?”

Of course y/n remembered! She couldn’t get his teasing words out of her head. “Then make a fucking mess out of me.” She snapped at him, bratty and impatient. Mingi groaned, his dick twitching and bobbing at her chin. Well, if that’s what she wants….

She gagged as soon as he thrusted himself into her mouth, his tip pushing past her gag reflex, tapping the back of her throat and y/n had to take a moment to breathe through her nose, his dick heavy on her tongue, filling her mouth and throat full.

Mingi swore right then and there he’d never again see anything better then y/n choking on him. “Look at you, Princess….” Y/n felt the vibrator hit the highest pulse, sending her into a moaning mess around him, tears pooling into her eyes by the stretch of him. “are you struggling?”

He was teasing her now, pulling his length almost all the way back out of her mouth only to thrust it back in.

Mingi was a fucking menace and y/n had never been more turned on.

He allowed her a little time, a few more thrusts and strokes to adjust to him before Mingi started a fast pace, dick buried as far in her throat as it could go, her nose meeting his pelvis every time, spit drooling out the creases of her mouth. The most sinful and lewd noises echoing from the constant gag and Mingi’s deep moans.

Y/N felt herself close, the vibrator and Mingi’s moans about to send her over the edge and her poor aching clit hadn’t even been touched yet.

Mingi bit his bottom lip, looking down at her as he continued to do what she wanted and fuck her face. He was also doing what he said and was making a complete mess out of her.

It was taking everything in him to not pull his dick out of her mouth, spread her out on her bed and sink himself all the way inside her, as far as he could go. As far as she could take him.

Y/N gasped, breathing deeply and panting when Mingi pulled her head back, his dick popping from her mouth. He untangled his hands from her hair, pulling her up to her knees by her choker.

And then he was kissing her, tasting himself on her, both of them moaning into each other.“Can I fuck you?” Mingi was practically begging, his forehead resting down against her own as he pulled back from her lips.

Y/N hadn’t planned on it, not yet, but fuck she needed him. She smirked, loving the way he gripped at her choker tighter. “Do you want to ruin me, Mingi?”

She spoke just loud enough that he could hear, so those watching wouldn’t hear. Mingi didn’t answer her, crashing his lips back to her own and wrapping his arms around her.

Hands gripped her thighs, Mingi spreading her legs open, breaking the kiss and stared down at her. She was the most beautiful mess he’d ever seen.

Y/N let out a whimper as he removed the vibrator from her, dropping it onto the bed. Mingi slid one hand up her body, wrapping it around her throat as he used his other to guide himself into her soaked and aching pussy.

She was tight, so tight Mingi was fucking whimpering. Y/N choked back a sob when he thrusted, filling her and bottoming out.

It was only painful for a split second, Mingi pausing, freezing his movements to let her adjust to him, his length and width stretching her but as soon as he started to move, the most intoxicating moan Mingi had ever heard left her.

His grip on her throat tightened only slightly as his other hand moved to grab her leg, gripping at her ankle as he brought it up to rest over his shoulder.

Y/N eyes, pupils blown, caught sight of his cross pendant chain dangling above her and Mingi literally growled when she arched up, pulling the cross pendant into her mouth with her teeth.

“You’re so fucking dirty.” Mingi grinned, his thrust fast, hard and making y/n a moaning, crying mess. “Pussy fucking perfect…” he pulled all the way out, a white ring of cream coating his length as his tip brushed her clit. “And all these people watching get to see me make it mine.”

“MINGI…” y/n couldn’t help the loud slip of his name, it escaping her in the loudest cry she’d ever heard come from herself.

Mingi was pounding into her now, letting his grip on her throat go to bring his hand down to pull her other leg up, both now draped over his shoulders.

Y/N was coming the second one of his hands reached down and his thumb started rubbing her clit. Her orgasm hit her with shaking legs, clenching Mingi’s dick tightly as she squirted with every last sloppy thrust of his own before he too came, filling her up and collapsing against her, panting.

Mingi knew he was fucked now. He was already addicted. On a high that was nothing but her and there was no way he was gonna be able to let it go.

He was so fucked.

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

permanent tag list: @straycat420 @dejatiny @ultrapinkvoidbouquet @hannahlilibet411 @dawn-iscozy @winxmia @milkfromacow @pearltinyy @wooyoungsbrat @seonghwasslytherin

[strangerstilinski]

𝗽𝗿𝗲𝘁𝘁𝘆 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 1.7k

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: older!mechanic!eddie, fem!reader, use of 'girl' in reference to reader, oral (m receiving), semi-public sex, bumbling/awkward/lovestruck eddie (as is typical for my writing lol), i think that's it but lmk if i missed anything

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝟏𝟖+

“-and anyway, all I’m saying is, you’re gonna get a lot more years outta your car if you bring it in to get an oil change every six months or so-”

It’s really not that you don’t care about what he has to say. Your lack of focus on his advice has entirely more to do with the way his thick fingers are curled around the pint of beer in front of him. The metal wrapped around the base several of his fingers clink softly every time the older man nervously drums them against the glass. All you can think about is those fingers in your hair, gripping the fat of your ass or your hips, stretching out your cunt in preparation for his cock.

Your stomach flips a little at the sight of his fingernails. Scrubbed clean of any of the oil or grime that had been wedged into his nail-beds when you’d first met a week ago at the auto body shop, the little patch sewn into his coveralls had blessed you with the name that you finally utter now.

“Eddie?” You interrupt sweetly, glossed lips pursing when his eyes snap to yours.

“Shit. Am I talking too much? I’m talking too much, aren’t I?” He rambles in distress, bringing ringed fingers up to scratch at the coarse stubble lining his jaw. “It’s just- When you asked me to get a drink, at first I kinda thought you were just angling for a discount on repairs, y’know? I mean, pretty thing like you? Actually wanting go out with this old mess? It seemed ridiculous, but- Well, now we’re here and you’ve already paid off the invoice for your car and I’m a little-”

“Eddie.”

His words cut off with a quiet clack as his teeth snap together, eyes searching your own in the dimly lit bar.

“I want you,” Your hand meets where his is wrapped around the sweaty pint glass, fingers hooking underneath his own as you guide your laced hands to rest on the sticky tabletop, “I.. really want you.” You repeat with a bit more emphasis, the words a little softer with vulnerability this time, a little more desperate.

“What, like-? Like right now?” Eddie is already looking around the bar with wide eyes before his gaze flicks back to you, question swimming in their brown depths, “Here?” He murmurs in quiet disbelief.

You give him a coy smile, long lashes blinking at him longingly, “Here.”

Eddie rises to his feet a bit clumsily, like perhaps his body was trying to respond to your words before his brain, “Shit. Fuck. Okay, sweetheart. If you’re sure, I mean. Uh, we.. We could.. Um-”

You're far too worked up to find his racing thoughts as endearing as you think that you normally would, “Eddie-”

He’s dragging you up from the other side of the booth in a flash, large hands falling to your waist as he begins to guide you through the desolate Tuesday night bar crowd with his chest pressed warmly to your spine.

“Just come with me, baby,” Eddie trips over a his own feet in his heavy boots and nearly takes you down with him, narrowly managing to keep his feet underneath himself as he tries to keep you from stumbling, “Shit, sorry-” He grumbles into your ear from behind, the huskiness of his voice and the warmth of his breath prompting a pleasant shiver up your spine.

Once the two of you have stumbled your way down the dark hallway at the back, you spin around to let your arms snake around his waist from behind. Eddie is fumbling with the sticky knob of the bathroom door, the hairs at the base of his tummy soft under your fingers and you can't help but dip your hand beneath his waistband where the hair spreads further.

“Sshit-” Eddie fumbles with the door when your fingertips just graze the base of his cock, the skin silky smooth under your palm as you push a little further so you can wrap your small hand around him, “Oh, you're a f-fucking.. menace, aren’t you? N-not so sweet after all.” He tells you, not an ounce of bite to his words, more of a groan of approval than anything.

Your only response is to press your lips to the side of his throat beneath his wild mane of curls, snapping a small nip of your teeth against the curve of his shoulder as you work your hand torturously slow on his cock.

Distracted by your touch, Eddie swings the door open with with a bit too much enthusiasm. He dives forward to catch it before it can collide with the dirty porcelain sink on the inside wall and only narrowly gets a hold of it in time.

As soon as the door is secured behind you again, you're dropping to your knees in front of him. Your mouth finds the soft pudge of his tummy, and metal and leather clink and slap beneath your quick hands as you work his belt and get his jeans open enough to tug out his cock. It springs up as it's released, half hard already and bobbing in front of you like it's taunting you for just how badly you want him. His cock is gorgeous — average length but thick and beautifully curved just a bit to the right.

You hungrily eye the tip where he's flushed dark pink, shiny and dribbling just the tiniest bit already, shining in the hazy light coming from the exposed lightbulb in the ceiling.

Eddie lets out a groan as you take him in your hand again and lick at his tip, savoring the small beads of precome that meet your tongue. You hum at the salty tang of them, dragging your mouth down the length of him, tracing the soft vein along the underside of his cock with your lips and tongue.

“Oh, shit,” Eddie moans, his hand finding it's way into your loose hair nearly immediately. He doesn’t pull, he doesn’t push, his hands are entirely too gentle. His fingertips pet soft at your head like he’s praising you already and you’ve hardly even started, “You.. Baby girl, you don't have to-”

You lean back from where you'd been swirling your tongue around the head, giving his length a couple of short tugs as you look up at him through your lashes with a huff, ��Mm, and maybe I want to. You ever think of that?”

He balks, hips jerking minutely and incidentally thrusting his cock toward your pouting lips, “I.. Um-”

“Maybe I’m a young, confident woman who knows what she wants. And maybe I want to suck you off. Did that not cross your mind? Hm? That maybe I might like having your dick in my mouth?” You continue, voice dropping a few octaves.

A soft gasp turned groan falls from the older man’s lips when you lean back in to suck lightly at the tip and the sound has your thighs clenching together against the wave of arousal that curls in your tummy.

“Do you?” Eddie can’t help but ask, the question coming out a quiet groan, “Like it?”

“Mhm,” You hum around him, pushing further down his length to take in more of him, letting him feel the way your throat constricts around the head of his cock when you gag before pulling all the way off again, “Love it.”

“I just thought- Pretty thing like you shouldn’t have t- God. I, uh. You.. Shit. You’re certainly ohmygod- g-good at it.” He struggles to get his words out when you take him back between your lips, but then he’s huffing a quiet sigh of distress when you remove the warm heat of your mouth from his length once again.

“Good..?” You repeat in question.

“Wh- Huh?”

Eddie is blinking down at you dumbly, his hand flexing in your hair as he tries to clear his head. It's infuriatingly sexy.

“I’m on my knees for you in a dirty bar restroom and I’m ‘good’ at sucking your dick? It's.. ‘Good?’” You say the word with distaste, one eyebrow ticking up on your forehead in challenge as you place his tip back against your lower lip teasingly. You let it rest there, one hand coming up to his waist to keep his hips from jutting forward as you part your lips and let a warm breath wash over the wet head of this cock.

“Shit, sweetheart. Did I say good? I meant great! I, uh, phenomenal! M-mindblowing fuck-” He moans loud around the word when you reward him by taking him into your mouth again.

You let him rest heavy on your tongue, sucking and bobbing your head in slow drags while he sighs out a desperate little sound at the feeling.

“Fuck. You- You’re perfect, baby girl. You have to know that. An angel. Gotta know how much you’re- Ohh-”

The surprised groan that cuts him off has you soaked beneath your panties, moaning around his length in response.

“-How much you’re rockin’ my world right now.” He finishes weakly.

You pull off to give him an amused smile, jerking him in earnest with one hand and wiping spit from your lips with the other, “Oh, I rock your world, huh, old man?” You tease.

“God damn it,” Eddie breathes the words, dragging you up by your shoulders until you’re standing in front of him again, “You really are a little brat, aren’t you?”

But his mouth is on yours before you can respond, beer coated tongue breaking through the seam of your lips, a wide palm and fingers covered in cool rings encasing the back of your neck as he leads you just a few steps backward, until your spine is hitting the door.

Your keening moan is lost in the kiss, and as life-changing as his cock and fingers and mouth prove to be that evening, it’s his whispered words of praise and the sweet kisses he presses to your hair as he catches his breath at the end of it all that truly ruin you for anyone else.

As it turns out, the older mechanic who fixed up your car? Eddie? He’s kinda it for you.

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Makeover

Heyy guys, I hope you enjoy this Max one-shot, if you want to read more stories of mine here's my masterlist.

You sat cross-legged on Max's couch, rolling your eyes as he argued over the fit of his latest pair of skinny jeans. The conversation had veered from his undying loyalty to his closet staples to your mounting frustration with his predictable wardrobe.

“Max, I’m serious,” you said, leaning forward and poking his arm for emphasis. “I love you, but if I see those jeans one more time, I’m going to burn them.”

Max’s eyes widened with mock horror. “You wouldn’t dare.”

You raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk dancing on your lips. “Try me.”

A dramatic sigh escaped him, but the corners of his mouth quirked up in a smile. “Fine,” he muttered, running a hand through his unruly hair. “I’ll do it—but only because it’ll make you happy.”

The next day, you dragged Max into every fashion store Monaco had to offer. The montage that followed was a whirlwind of laughter and exasperation. Max tried on everything from sleek tailored trousers to bomber jackets in bold colors. You snapped pictures as he struck over-the-top model poses, nearly tipping over a rack of shirts in the process. When he emerged from the dressing room in a sharp suit that accentuated his broad shoulders, you couldn’t help but stare.

“Well?” he asked, giving a half-smile as he adjusted the collar. The deep blue of the jacket brought out his eyes in a way his Red Bull gear never had.

You grinned. “Perfect. You’re officially a fashion icon now.”

Max rolled his eyes, but his cheeks flushed a little. “I’m still not giving up my T-shirts,” he warned.

“We’ll see about that,” you teased.

Race day arrived, and the paddock buzzed with anticipation. Max stepped out of the car looking nothing like his usual self. Gone were the skinny jeans and snug team shirts. In their place was a confident figure in perfectly tailored clothing, drawing glances from fans and drivers alike.

“Wow, Verstappen, look at you!” Charles said, clapping him on the back.

“You’re making the rest of us look like slobs,” Lando added with a laugh.

Max smiled politely, but you noticed the way his shoulders tensed, the glint of unease in his eyes. He played along, accepting compliments with a nod and an awkward smile. Something gnawed at you as you watched him move through the crowd with a different air—confident, yes, but not quite... him.

As the day wore on, the realization hit you: this wasn’t your Maxie, the one who rolled out of bed with messy hair and a scowl until his first cup of coffee. The guy standing there was polished, put-together, and fit in seamlessly with the elite crowd, but he was missing something—the spark of authenticity that made him Max.

That evening, you found him sitting on the edge of the track, legs dangling and gaze lost in the distance.

“Hey,” you called softly, sitting beside him.

He glanced at you, the corners of his mouth lifting, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Did I do okay today?”

“You were great,” you admitted. “But… I miss your skinny jeans.”

Max let out a chuckle, the sound filling the quiet space. “You?”

“Yeah,” you whispered, resting your head on his shoulder. “They’re you. And I miss my Maxie.”

He turned to look at you, a warm, genuine smile breaking across his face. “You know, I only wore all this to make you happy.”

Your heart tightened, and you reached up to brush a strand of hair away from his face. “Max, you should never change who you are for anyone—not even me.”

“Thank God,” he said with a playful sigh of relief. “Because I was already planning on going back to my old clothes tomorrow.”

You laughed, the tension melting away, and before you knew it, he leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. It was soft, familiar, and full of all the things unsaid.

When he pulled back, he whispered, “Guess we’re stuck with the skinny jeans, huh?”

You smiled, eyes shining. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

And in that moment, everything felt right again.

[bitchlessdino]

with great certainty (m)

Pairing: Prince!soonyoung x reincarnated stranger!Fem!reader Genre: fantasy, isekai (reincarnation in another world), fluff, smut Word count: 1.5k  rating: R tags: Royal AU, commoner!reader, yearning, fingering, light dirty talking Summary: Love was bounded by books, at least that's what Soonyoung believed learning about love only through books, but after meeting you he realized love had none. Love has no bounds. Not even for him, a prince. author note: thank you @gyuswhore and @highvern for betareading for me and SURPRISE @etherealyoungk I'M YOUR SECRET SANTA . And thank you @camandemstudios for hosting this event! i really hope you enjoy it skye because i had a great time writing it and i tried getting really creative as possibly with the word limit we had. Happy holidays and Merry Christmas, stay warm wherever you are I hope you're have the best holiday and an even better New Year <3

Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch @kyeomiis @wonwooz1-blog @horanghaezone @stagefrjghts @pantumin @aaniag @mochisdayone @gyuguys @idubiluranghae

Soonyoung was meant for great things and that included the crown of his country. He came from a long line of Kwons, a centuries old lineage that transcended wars, famine, and anarchy. The youngest of two, the eldest and only son, and the direct heir to the throne of a patriarchal monarch. It was his destiny and everything that he's been taught has led up to this moment.

But he realized the crown meant nothing when he met you—an anomaly in his once perfect world. You came in with your strange clothing and foreign customs like you were from another world, and he was starting to think you were with how much you tried convincing him. 

You told him you don’t belong here. That you were brought here by mistake, somehow reborn in a world far different than your own. He could imagine how disorienting it must’ve been if you were telling the truth but what he did understand was that you were confused. So, suddenly, he took you in, something he never planned for.

He housed you, clothed you, fed you, taught you the proper mannerisms of his land, but what he didn’t expect to do was fall madly in love with you. Someone who wasn’t even a loyal subject, let alone royalty like his advisors wanted him to marry. 

He didn’t even think it was possible, but the emotions he felt; the jealousy, the fondness, the warmth. It all resembled what he read in love stories. The kind of love he’d envisioned having one day, that he hoped to have even as King. A true, real, unconditional love.

And although he was sure that’s what it had to be, he couldn’t be too sure.

He dragged you somewhere far, far away from his palace, but not without your playful protest. Somewhere no one would suspect they’d be. Where they could be themselves. Where he could be honest. And being Prince, let alone King, wasn’t something that mattered.

“What is it, Your Highness?” you asked with a breathless laugh, heart racing from chasing after him in the middle of nowhere.

“Somewhere private, just for us,” he vaguely answered, his grin baring in mischief.

You narrowed your eyes at him as you entered an empty cottage, furnished with the bare necessities. “Why? What are you planning?”

He sat you on a dining chair, taking one beside you. “I want to know about your world. Please, indulge me.”

You weren’t sure where to start, maybe with the fact that magic and dragons didn't exist like they did here, only concepts of them. And the jobs that the people had—the jobs you had were less labor inducing compared to here, yet less rewarding. There were things you missed and some you didn’t.

You sighed, feeling yourself get lost in your words, thinking you’ve gone off the rails rambling. You rested your hand against his that laid flat on his thigh. “I’m not good at explaining things, sorry.”

He shook his head reassuringly. “That’s quite alright. I rather enjoy hearing you talk.”

A soft smile graced your features. “You’re too kind to me, your Highness.”

“I’m to be king one day,” he proudly reasoned, puffing out his chest, “Being kind is second nature.”

You grinned, shaking your head at him amused, used to his grandeur gestures and expressions as time passed and Soonyoung couldn’t help but stare. “If I may be honest.” He accepted your hand, thumbing over your knuckles. “I had other intentions.”

“Other intentions? What kind?”

His eyes flitted towards yours, a fervent heat growing behind them as they scanned over your features. He raised a hand to bring a single strand of hair behind your ear, letting it linger on your neck. The sensation pebbled your skin and you parted your lips, eyes fluttering back at him anticipatingly as he leaned closer. He tasted your subtle savor of nectar and berries, humming in utter delight, feeling you melt against his lips effortlessly.

He muffled your moan under his lips and swiftly reeled you to straddle his lap, the fabric of your clothes spilling around his sides. He took your skirt and bunched them up in fists, caressing your smooth thighs that wrapped around him delectably. Shallow breaths escaped his lungs—followed by the fervor of relief—crushed by the tension of your body that felt like heaven’s clouds in his hands.

Your arms looped around his neck, the fire in your chest burning brighter than all your days having met Soonyoung, and you feared this one would be harder to extinguish. Mustering up the courage that barely bustled inside you to match his pace, you clung to his fervid torso radiating through his garments that were far too thin for any cold weather—still, burdened by the circumstances. 

The thought of possible consequences crossed your mind just briefly, even in the sweet bliss of the prince's tender kiss, you trembled against his touch at the thought of what could go terribly wrong if you proceeded any further.

Soonyoung could sense your hesitancy and gently parted from you, the tip of his nose tickling against yours delicately that you audibly gasped. “What’s wrong?” he asked in quiet concern.

“Your Highness—“

“Soonyoung, please call me Soonyoung.”

You melted into a smile of realization. “I don’t think I ever learned your name. It’s pretty—but, are you sure this is something you want to do? With me that is?”

“My dear…” Soonyoung beckoned you closer, hand against the nape of your neck, his lips ghosting against yours. “If I am certain of anything, your lips felt as if they were made to make contact with mine because nothing has ever felt so right until this very moment.”

“But,” you interrupted, through your heavy-lidded gaze. “You’re going to be King one day…and I don’t belong in this world,” you whispered devastatingly, anguish coloring your tone.

“But you belong with me,” he breathed confidently.

He reconnected your lips, his hand falling down your back to tug and loosen the ribbon of your corset, pouring your bosoms out of their restraints before he pressed his body against yours to catch their spillage, reveling in their warmth. “With great certainty, you my love, belong with me. Just as much as I belong with you.”

You clasped your hand over his cool cheek, finding him naturally nuzzling against your palm, his eyes narrowing back at you in a spell of adoration.  “How is it you are so certain?” 

Sooonyoung pressed his lips against your cheek, “I’ve laid my eyes on many beautiful sights in my Kingdom—,” then against your collarbone, feeling his presence linger down your neck like a hot fiery trail, “—I’ve marveled at oceans, mountains, mysterious creatures, princesses, and queens…”

Then like his gaze, his lips fell to the fullness of your breasts, kissing around their plush weight until his eyes flitted back up to meet your gaze. “Yet, nothing and no one dare stand in comparison to the enchanting enigma in front of me.”

“Y-you find me enchanting?”

“Incredibly so.”

You started to relax, hands finding themselves teasing the hem of his shirt before crawling underneath, lifting it slightly to see the sliver of his sweltering abdomen. “That’s surreal coming from you…Soonyoung.”

He hummed, finding purchase around your hips as his face buried his chin between the valleys of your chest. “Say my name again.”

“Soonyoung…”

He sighed deeply, his smile caressing your jaw before your lips joined together once more, “The Heavens seemed to have lost an angel.”

You found it easier to succumb to your urges, entangling your bodies until articles of clothing found their fates on the ground. Although doubt clouded their actions before, they wouldn’t now, not if the prince had anything to say about it. 

It was funny. Soonyoung’s hands were trained to command armies, write laws, and lead his country to their brightest possible future. Yet, here they were slipping down your undergarments, digits sinfully tracing over the aching core that fluttered at his touch.

Your stomach tensed as his fingers dipped deeper in experimentation, his eyes glazed over your expression in both interest and caution. “How’s that?” He softly asked.

“Good,” you responded, even quieter.

His fingers pushed in deeper, the pad of his thumb pressing down on your sensitive bud, and a wave of shock ran up your spine, having you shift your thighs to find his growing arousal that caused a tent in his pants. “S-shit.”

“My lady,” Soonyoung chuckled, a devilish grin gracing on his Highness’s angelic face. “That’s quite the dirty mouth you have there. Do you think a soon-to-be King would approve of such a thing?”

Despite his words, he showed no signs of stopping, watching you become a moaning mess undone merely by his fingers as you rolled your hips against his unfaltering erection. 

He was meant to have you. He felt it. He knew it. He saw it. He foretold it. Nothing could tell him otherwise.

Not even the crown.

[forensicheart]

Age Is Just A Number

Fernando Alonso x Reader

Summary: You like Fernando but it takes a bit of convincing for you to admit it.

Warning: Dirty talk, fingering, p in v, edging , age gap (reader 21, Fernando 42)

You couldn't help as your gaze stopped on the flash of green you spotted as your eyes scanned the paddock. You were making your way down the pitlane to see your brother but instead you found yourself drifting towards the Aston Martin garage.

"Hermosa!" A voice shouted as you entered the garage, your figure always catching the eyes of the older man. He made a beeline for you as he excused himself from his strategist wrapping his arms around you and he hugged you gently. As he pulled away from you, you didn't miss the way his eyes dragged up and down your body.

"You look as gorgeous as always" You turned your head away trying to hide the blush as you saw Fernando smirk out of the corner of your eye. Before you could open your mouth to reply Fernando seemed to have more on his mind.

"I'm sure this dress would look even better on my floor though" He ended with a wink and turned to walk further into garage as his name was called. Once more you were left blushing and as you continued down the pitlane you couldn't help but think about Fernando. The way his accented words sent shivers down your spine, the way his sat that made you want to run your heads through it, how his confidence never strayed despite the clear gap in your age. That was the main reason you never pursued Fernando's obvious advances, the age gap. 21 years. Fernando never held back with his flirting, everyone knew that he was into you but you on the other hand had never admitted to feeling the same.

"Who's got you blushing?" Max's voice interrupted your thoughts, you hadn't realised that you'd even made it to the garage, let alone bump into your brother.

"Oh, uh, just a bit hot is all" You tried to lie smoothly but Max had always been able to see right through you, especially with the upscaling of Fernando's flirting recently, not even attempting to hide it from your brother.

"You've been at the Aston Martin garage haven't you?" You sigh knowing you won't be able to lie your way out of it.

"Yes, but I didn't initiate anything Max, I was barely even there for a minute" Max imitated your sigh from a moment ago shaking his head.

"He's far too old for you Y/n”

“I know, I know Max, I’ll stay away from him more” You said accepting defeat as you made your way further into the RedBull garage to find a spot to watch the race from.

-

With Max winning per usual you made your leave early without him knowing you’d see him after all the media and presentations were done. On your way out though you were stopped by a certain older man who called out your name as you made your way to your car. Max’s words circled in your mind as you kept walking deciding to ignore the man behind you but he wasn’t giving up. Running up to you he placed his hand on your shoulder as he stood walking next to you.

“Are you ignoring me now hermosa?”

"Simply brothers orders Alonso" Fernando lets out a laugh and you know he doesn't believe you.

"I think you just don't want to admit that you've fallen for an older man" You scoff and brush off the hand still resting on your shoulder as you both come to a stop.

"I do not like you Fernando. So please, just give up" Your words only draw the man closer to you, seeming to tower over you as a hand reaches up to brush a strand of hair from your face.\

"Oh mi amour. Why don't you come back to my hotel room and I'll help you admit your real feelings" With the intent of his words hanging in the air Fernando turned on his heels and walked towards his car, head held high as you stared after him, your lip between your teeth.

-

This is a bad idea. You told yourself as the elevator doors opened, prompting your exit. This is a very bad idea. He's 20 years older than me! You were nearing his hotel door now, even without being given a time you knew he would have been waiting since the moment he had caught up to you at the carpark. I should not be doing this. I need to go home. Max is gonna kill me. Your movements didn't match your thoughts though as you raised a fist to knock gently on the door in front of you.

Taking a deep breath as you lowered your arm you waited no more than a second before being met with the face of Fernando Alonso.

"I was wondering when you'd show up" He spoke smugly as he stepped aside allowing you to walk past him and into the room.

The door closed behind you and your body froze as you felt a hand slide to sit on your waist.

"Now, are you going to admit it or are we going to have to do this the hard way hermosa?" His breath sent a shiver down your spine as his lips brushed your lobe. When you didn't make a move to speak in the time given Fernando used the hand on your waist to spin you so you were facing him, the force making you place your hands on his chest to steady yourself.

"Hard way it is then" Wasting no more time his lips were on yours in a heated kiss. You reacting positively not able to resist the man holding you. His hands traveled from you waist to your ass and he squeezed earning a groan from you. A smirk rested on his lips at the sound and he worked on removing your dress. The zip was down before you could register and the dress was falling to a pile at your feet which you stepped out of as you pulled out of the kiss.

"I told you it would look much better on my floor" Fernando sent a wink your way as his eyes racked over your body before his hands were back on it. This time taking off your bra so he could grab the flesh of your breasts. Letting out a louder moan than the one prior you felt needy to feel him too. Hands going to remove his shirt you allowed yourselves to separate so you could pull the shirt over his head, throwing it to the ground with your dress. Next you were unbuttoning his jeans as he slid them down his legs, kicking them off his feet and bringing his hands to grab the backs of your thighs allowing him to pick you up. With your legs wrapped around his waist Fernando walked you into his bedroom, the both of you caught in a kiss as you were laid onto the bed.

“Hermosa” Fernando whispered breathlessly as he pulled himself out of the kiss to look over your exposed body. With his mouth now paying attention to your breasts you let out a moan that made Fernando snake his hands down to remove your underwear while he focused on your chest. A finger glides through your folds making you gasp as your eyes snap to Fernando's whose already staring down at you.

"Please" You practically begged, your body craving his touch.

"Are you going to admit to having feelings for me mi amour?" You hesitated but quickly shook followed by a sharp bite of your lip as Fernando thrusted two fingers into you. You weren't able to keep yourself quiet for long though as Fernando immediately set a rapid pace.

"Oh god" Your words led a string of moans as Fernando begun to decorate your neck as his spare hand settled on your breast gently pinching the hard bud. His pace was unrelenting but you wanted more.

"Please Fernando, I want you inside of me" Without saying a word Fernando removed his fingers making you whine as he took off his boxes staring down at you as his tip brushed your wet folds. Silence filled the room as the two of you stared intently at one another. A pleading look in your eyes and a determined one in his.

"You want this amour?"

"Yes. I want this, please"

"Then admit that you like me" You were hoping to get away without speaking a word about feelings to Fernando but the fire in his eyes told you that he waws not letting another move be made until he heard this confession.

"I- I like you, Fernando" Your eyes avoided his as you finally confessed the one thing you'd been trying to run from.

"See. That wasn't so hard now was it?" Before you could even think of a response Fernando entered you without warning making you throw your head back as you tried to adjust to the size of him. You weren't given much time though as Fernando sets off at a bruising pace, his hips snapping into you as he hits the right spot every time that makes you slur out words of gratitude and praise. You could feel the knot in your stomach tightening quickly as Fernando only grew faster in his thrust. He was sure to hit deep inside of you, watching you take all of you and filling you up like he'd dreamt of. He wanted to make you feel good and that was exactly what he was doing. You grew closer and closer to your climax, your hands reaching to grab something, fists gripping at bedsheets.

"Tell me again hermosa. Tell me you like me" Fernando demanded, his thrusts getting sloppy as he too neared his climax.

"I like you Fernando, god I like you so much" You moaned out without hesitation. The moment the last word left your mouth Fernando leaned down to pull you into a passionate kiss as you both groaned into each others mouth, finishing together as you pulsed around him.

"Be mine?" Fernando asked through heavy breaths.

"Always"