#see rbs for more smile
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the-king-of-lemons · 3 months ago
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connoreatspants sweep
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icyfox17 · 7 months ago
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GOOD MORNING ICY!!! U GOOD?! My entire dash is that gif of the hug on repeat.
ALSO, IS THIS A JACK AND CAPTAIN HOLT SITUATION BUT THE DYNAMIC ISN’T PLAYED FOR THE JOKE?
SHDJFJFKFKGKG GOOD MORNIGN SPRUCE IM SO HAPPY BOBBY HAD A HEART ATTACK LAST EP AND HIS HEART STOPPED FOR 14 MINUTES HOHIDISSJAISSSS BUT HES BACK HES ALIVE AND THEY HUGGEDGDDHDJ😭😭😭😭
Uhm. I have only seen like 7 EPs of b99 and it's been years so 😭 I have no idea but yes (???) I think
Buck has said that Bobby's practically his father at least three times directly AND ONE TIME IN THIS EP WOOHOO HE SAID THAT BOBBY WAS THE FATHER HES NEVER HAD SURE EVERYONE ELSE IS IN PAIN BUT I WIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (ignore me crying over Eddie and his son omfg they're so sad I can't do this)
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echidnana · 6 months ago
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sorry but tsukasa is like one of if not the least angsty character in prsk...... it's crazy how much angst fan content there is of him bc canonically he is literally like just having a good time
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0509-brainrot · 2 years ago
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I looked at your page for 5 minutes
Can say, wow they're so cute together 😭😭😭 I think I ship it now HELP ME
YEAHHHH LET'S GOOOOOOOO Welcome to the content desert cool kids table B)))
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kurooh · 2 months ago
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I’MA MAKE U SCREAM ★ S. GOJO & S. GETO
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⊹₊˚. a series of unrelenting, mysterious phone calls late at night leads to you being sandwiched between two hot ghostface slashers who’ve got you fucking for your life.
warnings. 18+ content — mdni, fem! reader, ghostface! gojo & geto, threesome, knife play, landline phones, mentions of death, oral (f receiving), double penetration, anal/fingering, tongue piercings, pussy slapping, biting. 5.2K words whew (pls read anyway 🧎‍♀️)
xoxo, juno. happy halloween!! thank you to my dearest wolfy anon for beta reading <33 comment & rb if you enjoyed!!! 🎃
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“hello?”
“why don’t you wanna talk with me?”
“who is this?” you roll your eyes, unimpressed by the cheery voice coming through the phone. “it’s like eleven at night, what do you want?”
“ya tell me your name, and i’ll tell ya mine,” that voice lilts into a teasing tone, words dripping with persuasive sweetness.
“nah, i’m heading to bed. nice talk.”
“aw, bedtime already? you’re not even gonna watch a movie before you sleep?” the question has your brows furrowing in aggravation, but you sigh, choosing to answer anyway.
“i didn’t have anything in mind,” the caller lets out a laugh, straight into your ear. “what, you’ve got a suggestion?”
“do you like scary movies?” and you can hear the smile in the caller’s voice; he’s amused, probably laughing with his friends over the prank call in the moments of muffled silence.
“i suppose so.”
“don’t you have a favorite? why not watch it?”
“well, i won’t be able to sleep,” you reply simply, twirling the phone cord between your fingers. “but the longer we talk, the more sleep i lose out on. so, have a good night!”
“wait!” the caller snaps, demanding as ever. the sudden outburst sends chills straight down your spine. “don’t hang up on me.”
“and why shouldn’t i?” the blatant defiance has the caller letting out a laugh that sounds rather menacing . . he clears his throat, seemingly returning to his more even tempered tone.
“we’re not done talking,” he says simply, sounding a little crackly through the phone. “so don’t hang up, you’ll—”
a rational person with an interest in talking would certainly call during the day, and only once or twice before quitting altogether to wait for a call back. an irrational person would have your house phones ringing off the hooks while you were in the shower, calling nonstop and then getting far too arrogant once you finally picked up. just as you slam the phone back down, it starts to ring again.
you decide to leave the room, figuring that the caller will tire himself out quickly, but he doesn’t. in the time that you left the phone to go to another room, there wasn’t a single beat of silence. furious, you race toward the phone, fingers sliding on the kitchen counter as you snatch it up.
“fuck you! listen to me, you’d better stop—”
“no, you listen to me,” the caller snarls, and the harshness of his voice has your heart kicking hard against your rib cage. something in your gut tells you that this isn’t just a talkative caller. “don’t fucking hang up on me again, got that?”
you recover some of your composure, goosebumps rising on your skin. the cool breeze blowing through a nearby window adds to the chilling feeling that’s washed over you in only a matter of seconds. “w-well, what do you want, then?”
“i wanna see your insides, dummy,” is the crazed response, and you can’t stop the way your face immediately twists in horror. a clicking sound is heard as the second phone in your house—the one upstairs—is picked up, and another person hops onto the call.
“now, now,” this new voice is smooth, immediately drawing your attention as you listen attentively through the phone. “that’s no way to talk, you’ll scare her silly.”
“what the fuck?” you ask aloud, although you hadn’t meant to. all you can think about is the fact that two weirdos have you almost . . cornered on the phone.
the crazy voice scoffs, ignoring your mumbling. “well, you heard her! trying to hang up and shit,” he clicks his tongue in disapproval before sighing. “anyway, where were we?”
you don’t even say anything, and the other voice exhales into the phone. “see, look at what you’ve gone and done now. our girl’s too scared to talk to us, isn’t she?”
“look, i-i’m just gonna go to bed. goodnight.”
“you’re not going anywhere, honey,” the calmer one of the two says, but this time his voice is much clearer, almost as if he’s standing beside you. you take a step backward, trying to shake off the weird feelings and relentless goosebumps spreading across your skin.
you might as well be wearing nothing.
the satin slip dress you were planning to sleep in is as thin as plastic wrap; you’ve backed up into someone’s strong chest and thanks to the thinness of your pajamas, you can feel each sharp ridge of muscle. the pecs are strong, firm to the touch, and the abs are hard enough to cut diamonds. fear races through your body, so overwhelming that your lips part to let out a scream—but the noise is muffled by a large palm that pulls you back, flush against the muscles. separated only by a few layers of clothing, you can feel the warmth of their body and the casual rise of their chest as they breathe. if you weren’t being silenced, this would be comforting, in a way.
“promise you won’t scream, baby?” that calm voice has a dangerous edge; you nod immediately, frantically, desperately — as you feel a few tears gather in your eyes. this . . does not look, feel, or sound good in any way imaginable. who even are these people? and why you? a seemingly normal thursday evening had gone entirely downhill, and you didn’t even know why.
“good girl,” the person hums, dropping their hand from the lower half of your face and instead replacing it with the sharp edge of a knife. “let’s head upstairs, shall we?” as you ascend the steps, the blade drops lower, until it hovers over the tender skin of your throat. you can’t even turn around and see who the person is, for fear of getting cut over the simple action.
“could i at least turn around?”
“what for?” he asks, nudging the bedroom door open. you’re met with the frightening sight of a person in robes lounging on your bed, against your pillows. they have a spooky, ghostly mask, but you know who it is the second their mouth opens.
“you took the knives out that quickly?” the figure clicks his tongue, raising a hand to his face to pull off the ghostface mask. so this is what this is—some kind of ridiculous scream roleplay . . but the feel of the knife and the way it gleams is too real. “what happened to playing around, suguru?”
“it’s—it’s you! from the phone.” you say, straining against the man behind you, who pulls the knife a few inches away from your throat.
“careful now, doll. you’ll hurt yourself.”
“if you let me go, maybe i’d—” the man on the bed sits up then, pulling off his mask. you can’t see who he is just yet, the shadow from his hood obscuring his face. in a moment, he grabs hold of your face with a gloved hand, fingers squeezing cruelly at your cheeks.
it’s utterly nasty, the way feelings of attraction twist in your stomach. heat rises to your cheeks and you swallow, looking into diamond blue eyes that have your heart fluttering despicably. how is it possible to even be focused on your grim reaper’s looks, almost entirely forgetting their intentions as you lose yourself in those eyes?
“cat got your tongue? i said i wanna see your insides and you didn’t even look fazed.”
beneath the robe, you can see the tips of snowy hair, along with a face that’s far too handsome to belong to some kind of murderer. you shake your head in disbelief, sucking in a breath. “uh . . huh? sorry, i didn’t hear you.”
he drops your face with an annoyed scoff, stepping back to plop down on your bed before fully pulling off his hood. “y’know what—suguru, you deal with her.”
the man behind you pushes you forward, and you awkwardly take a seat beside the sighing killer. suguru tugs off his mask and inspects the knife closely, running a gloved finger over the edge before nodding. “might as well use the knives on you. maybe you’ll hear us then?”
“what’re you—why’re you doing all this?” you ask, the words sputtering out of your mouth nervously. “is there any way i can convince you not to cut me open?”
suguru looks at his literal partner in crime, pushing his black bangs away from his eyes as he speaks. “oh? trying to cheat death, sweet thing?”
you shrug, casually flopping onto your back. the satiny fabric of your dress flips up, and you unintentionally give both of them a great view of your panties. now that they’re deliberating how to move forward with you, the fear of the situation has dissipated greatly. “i just wanna go to bed and live to see another day tomorrow. name the price for my life and i’ll pay it.”
“those are fighting words,” suguru remarks, “don’t you agree, satoru?”
satoru nods, eyes glued to the thin fabric covering what’s between your legs. his mind runs wild as he imagines what he and suguru could impose on you. they’re practically in sync—suguru looks over just as satoru looks up, the two of them sharing a knowing look.
“hmph. sit up and listen.” satoru nudges your thigh, and you do as he says, looking bored. the whole night has done one too many 180s, giving you the most severe case of whiplash in your life. you’d initially been annoyed, terrified, then mildly attracted, and now . . almost indifferent.
“you’ve got my full attention.”
“we’ll let you live, on one condition,” satoru raises a finger before you can object, while suguru’s eyes covertly sweep over your body. “think you could handle us at the same time?”
a proposition for a threesome is something you certainly did not see coming! you bite the inside of your cheek, willing yourself to maintain composure. suguru spices it up with a smirk, dragging that sharp knife of his along the edge of your jaw.
“you’ll have to fuck like your life depends on it.”
it does. tension weighs the air down, filling the room with a thickness even suguru’s knife couldn’t cut through. sweat beads along the skin of your spine and you exhale in defeat. being between these two would be hard—in all ways possible; but one mistake and they’d probably end up slitting your throat.
truthfully, you’re willing to risk it. most girls don’t usually cross paths with two men that are each extremely attractive and willing to share you between one another. you squeeze your thighs together, an action that doesn’t go unnoticed by either of them.
“y-yeah, okay. i’ll do it.”
“atta girl,” satoru praises, the corners of his eyes crinkling. a wicked smile finds its way onto his rosy lips, but you don’t back down, instead spreading your legs. you look between them, a silent invitation extended in one glance.
“lie back for us.”
“you were the one who told me to sit up—” perhaps the unnecessary snark isn’t a good idea, not with the way suguru eyes you warily.
satoru leans in hastily, connecting his lips with yours to effectively shut you up. his body barrels into yours, pushing you into suguru, who catches you and cages you against his strong chest. the knife is abandoned as he strokes his fingertips along the tender skin of your neck, sighing into your ear while satoru occupies your lips.
“so pretty. heh, you’re pretty every night.”
suguru’s touch has you letting out a moan that satoru eagerly swallows, his gloved hands roaming your body. however, he seems to remember he’s got gloves on; without pulling away, he snatches them off.
“her tits, suguru—play with her tits.”
the mumbled words are audible only to suguru, who complies with a chuckle. unlike satoru, he makes no move to do away with his gloves. you moan, his hands squeezing at your tits while his fingertips stroke over your nipples until they grow hard.
“s-suguru,” you mewl, pulling away for a moment to suck a breath into your deprived lungs, “keep touching me there—just like that.”
satoru’s palm comes down hard against the side of your thigh, and he grips your face, forcing you to look at him. “focus on me, got that? wouldn’t want him to stop, would you?”
you shake your head, and in a split second, satoru’s got your upper lip between his teeth. he bites down playfully; the impact makes you gasp, and he seizes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. arousal pools in your panties, and you fidget in your spot between them, hoping that you’ll finally get the attention you’ve been craving sooner rather than later. suguru’s tongue drags against your neck while he takes in the scent of your body wash from earlier’s shower. there’s a cool sensation coming from the center of his tongue—you can feel a firm ball of some kind.
it’s a little shameful, getting this hot and heavy from a simple kiss. only, his tongue rolls against yours, and any semblance of embarrassment melts away. suguru’s fingers pinch both of your nipples at the same time, sending shockwaves right to your pussy.
“fuck,” you sob into satoru’s mouth, practically lightheaded from how overwhelming it already is, as well as the lack of air. “i-i need more.”
suguru hums, continuing to toy with your hardened nipples. “already slutting yourself out for us, sweetheart? that was fast, wasn’t it?”
satoru finally draws back, a glossy string of spit connecting your lips to his. he doesn’t move just yet, savoring the moment like a piece of special candy—you’ve practically got hearts in your eyes, all hot and bothered because of him. well, suguru is a factor, but he didn’t put in nearly as much work as satoru.
“lie back for us, babe.” this time you don’t fight them on it, scooting off suguru so you can comfortably prop yourself up on the mountain of pillows.
“tsk. this dress ought to go.” suguru brandishes his knife, and cuts through the satin material of the slip as easily as a stick of butter.
“hey!” you snap, the remains of your dress sliding off to the sides of the bed like rags. “what about you two!? you can’t just cut up my clothes like that when neither of you are naked!”
satoru rolls his eyes, tossing your legs apart. meanwhile, suguru clearly isn’t done with that knife; he trails it along the slopes of your naked body, the edge of the blade sharpened in a way that has you gasping. he applies a little bit of pressure, and your skin splits like it would after a paper cut.
“a-are you cutting my skin open?” you ask incredulously. you know the answer, but for whatever reason, you don’t pull away from him.
“maybe,” he replies breezily. “‘s nothing deep. you can handle it, can’t you, honey?”
“would you look at that?” satoru wolf whistles, and heat rises to your cheeks as he gathers your legs together, tugging them up. the knife pauses at your collarbone as suguru leans backwards to take a look, and his eyebrows raise immediately.
“she’s fucking soaked.”
“put the knife down ‘n come give it a taste.”
satoru’s request is breathless, but effective. the knife falls onto the blankets, and for a moment you use your head to consider what might happen in the future—someone could sit on that thing, lie down on it. satoru’s tongue rips the thought out of your head and replaces the words that were on the tip of your tongue with a sweet moan of bliss. your clit throbs at the prospect of more, and their balmy puffs of breath fanning over you only arouse you further.
their faces press together, side by side as they start to eat your pussy in a way that immediately has your back arching and hips bucking. satoru focuses all his attention on your clit, flicking the tip of his tongue over it while suguru slurps up all of your slick. there it is again, that cool sensation—he’s got a tongue piercing. the moonlight shines through the flowy curtains, illuminating the killers in an almost angelic glow . . maybe they’re actually pussy killers.
“‘s like fucking candy,” satoru moans, tongue dipping down to gather up your slick. it bumps into suguru’s, and he only lets out a laugh that sends vibrations through your entire core. “sweetest pussy i’ve ever tasted, shit.”
the room fills with the lewd, nasty sounds of their slurping and licking as they devour your pussy together. you slip a finger between your teeth and bite down once one too many noises threaten to escape you, and suguru pulls back to land a smarting slap on your pussy.
“ah ah. do not try to go quiet on us.”
“sorry, ‘m sorry,” you stutter dumbly, mind and body reeling from the delicious sting of the slap.
“we want you screaming,” he emphasizes, spitting onto your cunt and watching as it flutters, the glob slipping down more rapidly due to the movement. “and you will be, by the end of all this. understand, doll?”
you nod hastily, and his eyes flick upwards to your face, the hardness in them a simple warning. “yeah, i understand.”
satoru’s drawing hearts and letters on your clit, each one making you shudder more than the last. each drag of his tongue makes him moan as he takes in more of your taste. beside him, suguru’s dips his tongue between your folds, the sensation nothing more than a tease. they plan to split you open on their cocks, and getting you desperate for it is only the first step of their plan.
“ngh, t-that’s so fucking good,” you cry, thighs quaking on either side of their heads. “please, i’m gonna cum.”
“give it to us,” satoru is the first to speak, his voice clear as it cuts through the lewd sounds in the air. he’s got one hand on the side of your thigh, holding you open just for them. “on our tongues, like a good girl.”
satoru’s ministrations on your clit grow more insistent; he’s working to pull your orgasm from you, while suguru continues to slurp at your messy pussy, his eyes falling shut. a familiar and overwhelming sensation coils in your tummy; it’s one that has your hands flying to both suguru and satoru’s heads, fingers finding purchase in their hair.
“i—i think ‘m gonna cum,” you cry, back arching off the bed while your hips jolt forward into their faces. after hearing the first word of your delirious warning, satoru replaced his tongue with his finger and moved beside suguru, the two of them slurping all your cunt has to offer. to them, it’s like drinking ambrosia.
you’re pulling hard at their hair, only encouraging them to groan against you. suguru speaks, eyes rolling back from just a little hair pulling. but it makes sense, with hair like that. of course his scalp is very sensitive.
“cover us in your cum, baby.”
obedient and right on time, your pussy gushes, hole fluttering around nothing while your clit throbs beneath satoru’s finger. the intense orgasm has left you twitching from the aftershocks, gasping for breath, and overly sensitive. of course, satoru and suguru take advantage of the aforementioned sensitivity with smirks on their faces.
“no, wait, i-i just came,” is all you can sob, your hands smacked away once you try to tug them off your aching cunt. “satoruuu, suguruuu.”
suguru only laughs, mimicking your tone with a roll of his eyes. “aw, babyyy. that’s too bad, isn’t it?”
with how sensitive you are, it’s not hard for them to drag a second orgasm out of you. this time, a few tears cascade down your cheeks as you fall over the edge with a pitched cry. satoru spanks your still twitching cunt and laughs at the way you gasp and recoil, legs still trembling.
“suguru, whatcha think? you wanna take her mouth ‘n i’ll fuck her pussy?”
“that’s far too considerate, satoru.” he shakes his head, talking about you as if you’re not in front of them. “c’mon,” suguru purrs, gesturing for you to get up as he slips off his robe and boxers. “lie on top of me.”
you can’t help but ogle, a little starstruck by his body and the thrill of everything. he sticks out his tongue playfully when he notices you staring, the metal ball in his tongue gleaming. his abs flex and his cock bobs as he lays down on your bed, beckoning you over with a gloved finger. satoru gulps, panting softly at the sight. following his best friend’s lead, he slips off his matching clothing and mounts the bed, which sinks under his weight with a creak. part of you wonders if the bed frame will give out by the end of this.
“hand me the lube,” suguru grunts, catching the small bottle in his larger hand. the liquid is cool, even through the leather of his gloves. he rubs his fingers together to warm it up a little for you. his fingertips prod at the tight ring of your asshole, and you let out a squeak of surprise.
“c’mon. relax for me, doll.”
you take a breath, body sweltering with arousal. this is certainly new for you, but you don’t complain—and anyway, the slight coolness of the lube feels good against your hot skin. satoru bites down on his lower lip as he watches his best friend prep you to take both of their cocks at the same time. something wicked has the corners of his lips curling up into a smile as he pictures you screaming for them.
likely picturing the same thing, suguru tongues at your jaw, kissing the tender skin wetly before nipping hard. you can only cry out, his lips serving as a simple distraction while his fingers push inside and stretch you out.
you gasp, and he feels you squeeze down hard on his fingers, hips jerking away. “come now, don’t run from it,” suguru coos, twisting his body beneath you to angle you the right way again. he ignores your whining, and satoru silently strokes his cock to the sight. “i know, i know. just breathe for me, ‘kay?”
slowly, your body accommodates the new stretch without any more sting or discomfort. in fact, your hips begin to rock into his fingers, chasing them when he starts to pull out.
“i-i think she’s ready, suguru,” satoru finally speaks up, clearing his throat. his voice is a little choked, and you can clearly see the flush on his cheeks even in the dark. “for both of us.”
“you hear that, honey?” his warm breath fans over the shell of your ear, making you shudder against him. “let’s see who can make you scream the loudest—me or satoru.”
“as if,” the man in question huffs, pushing your thigh to the side and looking over your dripping pussy with an obvious hunger. “fuck, baby. i’m gonna ruin you.”
with that, satoru grasps his cock and guides it inside your needy cunt. suguru does the same, pushing his length into your ass. the three of you moan collectively, a harmony if ever there was one. you sob, tears burning at the corners of your eyes from the intensity of the stretch.
satoru grits his teeth and grips your hips for support, then pushes all the way inside you. he bottoms out easily, his cock sliding against suguru’s, separated only by a thin layer of tissue. so thin that they can feel the shape of one another’s cocks through you.
“fuckin’—shittt, oh my god,” satoru’s easily overwhelmed, heart pounding in his ears while sweat covers his entire body in a sticky sheen.
suguru bites your neck hard, but the pain registers as pleasure despite the fact that he tastes a few irony drops of blood on his tongue.
“do either of you plan to move?” you complain, lips parting in an ‘o’ shape around a whiny moan. “or are we just gonna sit here—”
“shut the fuck up,” suguru groans, clapping a dry and gloved hand over your tits before squeezing them. “we’ll move when we fucking feel like it.”
waves of almost euphoria wash over your entire body, leaving you breathless and panting. when you’d first met these two, you’d been sharp and aware of your surroundings, but now everything is hazy and your body burns as though you have a fever.
the bed creaks dangerously as satoru jumps into action, slowly rocking his hips into yours with a few choked, wanton moans. before long, he’s more confident, fucking into you with a tight grip on your skin and at an invigorated pace. you’re so hot and oh so tight—satoru fucking loves it—you feel perfect. he loves the way you squirm on top of his best friend, hips canting forward eagerly to meet his. the evidence of how good he’s making you feel is painted all over your face, apparent in the wobble of your lower lip and the tears in your eyes.
you hear a sigh from behind you. “can’t lose the bet,” suguru’s voice is laced with faux sympathy. it takes him a few seconds, but he finally starts moving, groaning in approval at the shake of your body and gasping, ragged breaths.
above you, sweat rolls down satoru’s face, the snowy tips of his hair sticking to his forehead while others fall in front of his eyes. “y-you like it like this, baby?” the question is rhetorical, but your whimpering tells him everything he needs to know. the corners of his lips curl into a smile that’s soon wiped away by overwhelming pleasure. “you’re taking us so fuckin’ well, sweetheart . . driving me insane, goddamn.”
“i second that,” the metal ball of suguru’s piercing clicks as he sweeps his tongue over his teeth, panting hard into your ear. “really, baby . . feel like the luckiest fuckin’ guy in the world right now, heh.”
as if you’re not the luckiest girl—being sandwiched between these two is a dream you didn’t even know you had. inside you, their cocks throb against one another, dragging in and out of your holes ruthlessly. the tempo only speeds up, becoming too much too quickly.
you nudge a weak, clammy hand against satoru’s waist, arching your back on top of suguru and nearly nailing him in the face with a reverse headbutt. before the latter can say anything, satoru snatches your hand and intertwines your fingers with his, then pins it down to the bed. he advances forward, his chest now against yours to keep you still.
“ah ah,” he tuts, his nipples hard as they press against yours, “move your damn hand, baby. this is what you wanted, remember?”
“i certainly do,” suguru titters, nipping at your earlobe. “don’t be like that. you can take it, can’t you?”
his words are convincing; he’s got you nodding in acceptance. he’s right, of course. this is what you wanted earlier—you’ve been taking both of their cocks so fucking well. just as you tell yourself you’ll make it through this, satoru’s fingers ghost along the soft skin of your stomach. despite the exhaustion that’s setting into his body, his hips don’t even stutter as he focuses on your swollen clit.
“oh . . oh my god,” the words are torn from your throat, which only grows more sore with all the noise you can’t seem to stop making. a familiar shakiness settles in your voice, and you’re fighting to keep the breath in your lungs, but it escapes you far too easily. “i’m-‘m gonna cum for you, ‘m—”
as you hurtle closer to all encompassing euphoria, the sounds of skin slapping against skin fade out and grow foggy. yet, you manage to hear their voices eagerly spurring you on, the two of them in the same boat as you.
“yeah, ‘s right. fuckin’ cum for us, baby.” satoru’s own orgasm creeps up on him, his head tipping back as your pussy starts to flutter around his cock. of course, suguru can feel the throbbing of his best friend’s cock and the quavering of your needy pussy. he releases your tits, seeing the bruising he’s left before squeezing his eyes shut in concentration.
“ya heard him, honey,” he utters after a long groan, his voice low and husky. “take all of our fucking cum.” you gasp out, nodding your head frantically as you teeter over the edge.
everything happens fast, and all at the same time. satoru cums inside you, his broad shoulders shaking as he rides it out while your pussy practically milks him for more. your cunt spasms, hips jerking upwards from the intensity of it. the movement pushes out suguru, his cum leaking out of your bruised ass and spilling in white puddles on his pelvis.
satoru looks down, biting down on his lower lip as he pulls his cock from you. this is quite the reward, seeing cum pour from both of your spent and twitching holes. your shuddering, sweltering body finally begins to cool after what feels like hours. suguru’s exhausted, but he kindly lifts you and lays you down on the bed beside him. satoru flops down beside you with a heaving sigh, only to lay on the knife from earlier.
“ow, fuck!” he jolts, sitting up and tugging the sharp blade from where it’s tangled in the sheets. he unceremoniously hurls it to the floor, laying back down with a vengeful huff.
you’re too tired to laugh, but a small smile plays on your lips. “do you still wanna kill me?”
“not right now,” suguru throws an arm over his face, gesturing in the direction of the floor. “the knife’s down there, anyway.”
you sit up, craning your neck to take a look. from what you can see, the floor is littered with their dark costumes and two masks, the knife completely out of sight. “i don’t see it.”
“hm, remember we talked about making you scream for us?” satoru speaks up, and in your dizzy haze, you don’t notice that glint in his eyes.
“uh, yeah, i think so? i thought you already did.”
“don’t you watch scary movies?” suguru scoffs, looking at you from beneath his forearm. “you should know what happens next.”
you laugh, rolling your eyes. “yeah, whatever. what happens next, you kill me? very funny. let me convince you again,” and you clear your throat. “no, please don’t kill me, mr. ghostface! i wanna be in the sequel!”
satoru simply shakes his head, and the knife plunges into your back. with a gasp, you sputter out a few garbled words, blood pouring down your bare back as you fall backwards onto the bed. you writhe on the mussed sheets, blood spilling from your lips and trickling down your chin in vermillion rivulets. beside you, the blood covered suguru and satoru let you struggle aimlessly until your body stills; then they slip their masks on again . .
“andddd cut!” the director jumps from his seat with proud claps, and the production assistants rush in from every direction to help clean up the mess.
“satoru, fuck! that knife was so sharp,” you sit up, sending a glare his way as you wipe the fake blood off your skin. despite being a fake knife, the shiny plastic point was rather jagged.
“excellent performances, the three of you! our halloween special is sure to be a hit!” the director is gushing as he praises the three of you.
“yeah, yeah,” suguru says, his cheeks flushed a rosy pink. “i’ve gotta take a shower. seriously, the corn syrup is so fucking sticky.”
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silkjade · 1 year ago
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WICKED DRAGON, LAY WASTE TO ME
⤀ synopsis: neuvillette has always been the gentlest of lovers—and so tonight you ask him not to hold back ⤀ cw: afab!reader, unprotected + rough sex, size kink, praise, overstimulation, breeding + creampie, marking, monsterfucking (dragon cock), cervix fucking, multiple orgasms, dumbification, mentions of mates, lil bit of dom!neuvi (??) but he is still sweet — mdni || ꒰ 8.4k wc ꒱ ⤀ notes: leviathan fic for leviathan neuv ( i’m not talking abt his constellation ) rbs + feedback are always vry much appreciated ♡
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“Well? What do you think?” You come home, twirling before him in a gown, different than the one you had left in. The short hem at the front lifts mischievously, teasing just a peek of what lies underneath, while the longer, flouncing layers of skirts behind you, wrap flirtatiously around your legs. Neuvillette feels his throat run dry.
“Navia and Clorinde thought it was high time I changed my look, and you know I can’t ever say no to Chioriya Boutique.” 
While he’s spent the better part of the night reviewing court documents in the parlor, you have been out with Navia and Clorinde, who he thinks have perhaps plotted to kill him. ‘Girls’ night,’ you had called it.
Draped in a vivid palette of the finest fabrics, decorated interchangeably with delicate metalwork and dainty ribbons, the blush on his pale skin is ever-present as he rakes his eyes up and down your body. The dark, patterned stockings, squeezing your thighs just enough, so that supple flesh spills obscenely over the top, the tight, whale-boned embrace of your corset, accentuating the curves of your waist, and pushing upwards the swell of your breasts…
A coy smile graces your features when you catch how his throat bobs in his silence. Giggling, you lean down, tracing the tip of your finger up the contours of his neck, skimming the gentle curve beneath his chin until you’ve tilted his gaze to yours. “Hydro dragon, hydro dragon, got nothing to say?”
How can he even think, much less find the right words to say, when the familiar scent of your perfume fills his head with indecent, lascivious thoughts? Everything about you is intoxicating, almost insidiously attractive, so would it suffice to say that he’d much rather see your pretty, new dress abandoned somewhere on the floor? 
That first pulse of arousal translates into the first twitch of his cock, and oh how he wishes to kiss away your teasing little grin, but his lust-driven eyes are drawn to the miniscule movements of your bodice sleeve, predatory as he watches how it begins to shift, ever so slowly, off your shoulders. 
“If you don’t like it, then perhaps…” You loosely roll your shoulder, letting the sleeve slide right off. “…you’d like to help me undress?”
That, he will gladly do. His hands fly to your waist, dragging you down into a straddle over his hips. 
“Temptress,” he murmurs into the skin of your neck, distracting you with a featherlight kiss as his nimble fingers waste no time in undoing the delicate clasps of your bodice, leaving the heavy outer garment to tumble off your shoulders, abandoned in a pile at your waist. 
Cool air licks at the now exposed skin, though it’s nothing compared to the warmth of his lips as he slots his mouth against yours, gently coaxing you open with a subtle swipe of his tongue. Your eyes flutter shut in honeyed complacence, allowing Neuvillette to kiss you slow and sweet; impassioned, ardent, each kiss an oath of love and longing and lust. 
Desire blooms like romaritime flowers upon water, and you just know the tension underneath his placid exterior, is ready to burst. It’s prevalent in the way his muscles grow taut, tense beneath your every touch, fighting to hold himself back as your legs squeeze around his hips. Demonstrated, again, by how he pulls apart your corset, impatient and haphazard as he unlaces each cross, before tossing it to the ground, forgotten. And of course, only you can attest to the searing sensations of his escalating kisses—gentle wisps, once faint and docile, now wanton and heated with depravity. 
You can already feel it in your chest, in your bones, in the wetness that’s begun to form between your legs; maybe it’s the anticipation, but despite the layers of clothing you’ve already shed, you find it even harder now to breathe, especially as he holds you so close, body pressed against yours, while he traces the bare curve of your neck with his lips. 
For one with such a carefully crafted visage of elegance and poise, Neuvillette becomes sloppier as his restraint fades and lust seeps through the cracks. Something about you drives him wild, draws out the more carnal side of him that he so desperately seeks to hide away from you, who he could never even dream of hurting. 
But perhaps he’s spent too much time amongst humans. Or perhaps he understands their nature more than he had initially believed, for he makes the most human mistake of all in letting his control slip—enough that his fangs graze upon your sensitive skin, sending a shiver that reaches all the way down to your core, eliciting a moan so mellifluous, he cannot help but utter a sigh of strained content as the undeniably sweet sound reaches his ears.
“If we don’t stop now, I’m afraid I won’t be able to hold back,” he mutters, tongue laving over the spot in apology. It doesn’t help that you voluntarily crane your neck, offering him even more access in your heated bliss. His fingers dig into your waist in a silent plea to still your rolling hips. 
“So don’t,” you breathe. “Don’t hold back tonight.” Desperate to have him closer, you arch into him, the loose material of his shirt firmly clasped in your hands, deepening the kiss with a quick tug, a silent request for him to let go, but he immediately halts his movements, pulling away in hesitance. 
Oh Neuvillette. Your sweet Neuvillette, who in spite of his stern exterior, is the gentlest of lovers—always so tender with you and steadfast in placing your pleasure before his. You know of his draconic origins, know that he holds back in fear of hurting you, but for all the times he’s pleased you to the fullest extent, you only wish to do the same for him.
Your hand reaches to cup his face and he leans into your familiar touch, steely eyes soft. “It’s okay, I trust you.”
It’s already difficult denying you anything on a normal basis, so how can he, now that you sit, straddled over him, determination colored in your bright eyes, and with nothing but flimsy cloth left between the two of you. His eyes linger at your chest, the scooping neckline of your lace slip doing nothing to hide the smooth crests of your collarbones, begging to be marked. 
Neuvillette sucks in a breath, and attempts to swallow his doubts, before exhaling. He can no longer ignore the tightness in his groin, and to you, it’s clear that the obvious erection poking from beneath his trousers, speaks much louder than the uncertainty storming in his eyes. Perhaps he just needs one more push…
Your fingers come to curve around the sharp lines of his jaw, unwavering as you tilt his head up into your gaze. “Don’t worry about me, I can take it.”
His heart threatens to leap out of his chest in a flash of excitement, gratitude, desire; it’s far from the first time you’ve lain together, but to choose to bear such vulnerability before him, to surrender yourself to a full-fledged dragon… He glides his hands over the round slopes of your shoulders, easily sliding off the straps of your slip as he goes. The silk garment collapses down your torso, piling atop your forgotten dress. 
“If that is truly what you wish…” He presses an openmouthed kiss to the bare skin between your breasts, and the warmth of his breath runs a chill even colder than the night air. His whispers hide a growl, and despite the blush apparent at the tips of his pointed ears, his hold on your waist tightens. One hand slides down to grasp at your rear, and you can feel him smile against your lips, the rattle of a faint chuckle rippling in his throat before your breath hitches as he picks you up in his arms, and carries you off to the bedroom. 
He sets you by your shared bed, tearing off his now wrinkled shirt, while you wriggle out of whatever’s left of your dress, until both sets of clothing are discarded somewhere on the floor, and you’re finally left in only your panties and your stockings.
Immediately, his hands find your waist, roaming up and down over your curves as he smothers you in hungry kisses, herding you along until the backs of your knees hit the edge of your shared bed. This Neuvillette nips at your bottom lip, not asking for, but demanding entrance into your mouth, and you have no choice but to let him in, what with the way he makes you whine as he sneaks his hands down to knead the globe of your ass, before lowering you onto the bed. 
The tingling sensations bloom in your stomach, buzzing with excitement while you ready yourself to surrender completely—pliant to his will, whatever it may be. Arousal swallows you like the sea and he has yet to even really touch you. Impatient, your hand wanders, though not far down enough before you’re caught in his grasp. 
“Patience…” he mutters, pinning your wrist beside your head, broad shoulders caging you in between him and the sheets. His other hand follows the natural lines of your body, tracing along the edges until he stops to fondle one of your breasts. 
It’s impossible to relax your speeding heart at this side of Neuvillette: less reserved in his touches, more candid in his wants. The untreated heat in your body makes sure to touch on every part of you, running like water through your veins, until you’re sure your dripping cunt is pulsing with a heart of its own. Unable to stand the ache any longer, you wriggle beneath him—rolling your hips and squirming until your knee unwittingly brushes against his crotch, eliciting a choked grunt from him, only slightly muffled by the fact that his teeth have dug their way into your exposed flesh. 
He immediately pulls away at the sound of your surprised yelp, eyes darting to and fro across your features in frantic search for even the smallest semblance of discomfort, completely missing the way your entire body had seemed to arch into his touch. His eyes finally settle at the light indentations now displayed upon your once unblemished skin.
“Forgive me,” he begins, “I should have been more careful.” Neuvillette is ever the gentleman, but his voice is clearly strained in a poor attempt at fighting back his instincts—instincts that demand a dragon to mark what is his. 
“There’s nothing to forgive.” A soft smile graces your lips as your hand reaches to cradle his face, curling around his jaw in hushed reassurance. It’s so easy to read the thoughts that plague him so. “It felt good, I promise.”
True to your word, his heightened senses easily pick up on the scent of pure arousal that drifts from between your legs, swirling in the air, and lulling him into a state he’s kept buried for so long, he’s unsure of whether he’d be able to hold himself back even if he wanted to. He admires your bravery for daring to poke at the slumbering beast; bravery he knows stems from a place of passion, but how can he release such inhibitions upon a mere human? So physically… fragile. 
“I meant what I said: I can take it. And I know you won’t hurt me so…” Your fingers clasp around his shoulders, pulling your lover down just far enough to whisper, low and sultry, in his pointed ear.
“Don’t you dare look down on me, o’ hydro dragon sovereign..” 
You lurch forward, manicured nails drawing light lines down his bare back, and he meets you halfway in a long, drawn out kiss. A quiet growl rumbles from deep within his throat, clearly aroused by the way you had drawled out his full title. He nips at your bottom lip, dragging out a single, short gasp before leaving to trail wet kisses down the column of your throat, never stopping until his lips hover over the very spot where he had previously made his mark. 
He doesn’t even have to touch you, just his presence, tangled with your own anticipatory excitement, invites a shudder so deep, you can feel it in your bones. The sharp edge of his fangs scrape along that still-sensitive patch of skin, lightly, as if testing the waters, though this time, he makes sure to take note of the quiver in your pretty little mewls. 
Slowly, he bites down again and a moan slips past your lips, forced out from the very depths of your chest as your fingers fly to tangle in his moonridden tresses. His hot breath seeps past the barrier of your skin, leaving every nerve privy to his effect, and combined with the building pressure, you’re left open for the stream of soft whimpers that leave the perfect ‘o’ of your parted lips. As he sinks his teeth deeper, you squeeze your eyes shut in the midst of all the pleasure.
“Do it again,” you gasp, “felt good… ”
And oh, he has absolutely every intention to, what with the way you’re putty underneath him. However, he must do something about how distracting your hands are when you tug at his hair: hard enough for him to groan with an ache so wanton, it sends tremors echoing down until his trousers feel far, far too tight. 
Neuvillette is neither here nor there when he alternates between kissing and sucking and biting at your tender flesh—anywhere is fair game when you’ve relinquished yourself to him like this. With how attentive his lips are along your body, you hardly even care for the absence of his hand when he reaches around to untie the ribbon in his hair… at least not until it’s too late and you're left bemused by the uncharacteristic display of boldness; after all, it’s all you can do when your wrists are suddenly so tightly bound overhead.
You whine as he wraps his lips around one of your nipples, suckling and swirling his tongue, while he ravishes the other between his fingers. Heat surges through you and the aching desperation congregating in your belly begins to boil; you’ve never felt so sensitive, never been more pervasive to his touch.
Inside. You need him inside of you. But with your hands currently incapacitated, you’ve no other choice except to buck into him, beckoning him with your hips in the hopes of redirecting his attention to where you throb. 
“Inside. Please. I need you. Need you inside.” 
He hums in acknowledgement of your wishes, tugging at the hardened bud with his teeth, successfully wringing another shaky cry from your throat, before he finally pulls at the delicate lace of your panties, and guides them down the length of your legs. You easily kick them off, but in his observation, his piercing gaze catches every thrum of your muscles as they tense underneath the hand that finally trails between your thighs. He drags his lithe fingers between your folds, coating them in your slick, while his thumb rubs your clit in slow, but firm, circles. 
“My apologies for the wait.” Neuvillette kisses you right above your heart, where his acute hearing easily picks up how it palpitates as he dips his fingers into your velvet walls. “Allow me to make amends, my love.”
With the way your cunt gushes so copiously, it’s easy for him to slide all the way down to the last knuckle. He flicks his wrist, pumping fast and hard, scissoring you open before slipping in a third digit, drawing out mewl after pathetic mewl, as you fail to pull yourself together. The bedsheets twist beneath your incessant movements: simultaneously squirming not only from the initial stretch, but also to feel him deeper.
The discomfort is all too familiar, but with just the curl of his fingers, it washes away into unadulterated pleasure, just as it always does. But with your arms tethered, leaving you open and powerless, everything—every touch, every twist, every curl—feels tenfold.
Plus, no one would even believe you if you were to say that the chief justice had such a playful side in the bedroom; his fingers have explored your insides far too many times for him to just miss the little spot that he definitely knows by muscle memory. Whining, you buck your hips, senselessly grinding into his hand, hoping he’d get the message, hoping he’d quell your heat right at the source. 
But something dangerous and wild and primordial shines in the blue-violet glow of his eyes. For all the times you’ve made love together, he’s never seen you like this: so desperate, so needy for him. He pinches a nipple, hard, before locking your jolting hips down; a show of strength to remind you of your place. 
“Please, more.” Your voice rises in congruence with how you struggle against your ribbon-bound wrists. His fingers tease the spot again, this time with more force, and he watches as you keen and clench around him—helpless and at his mercy. 
With a curl, his fingers crook inside your silken walls, pistoning in and out, fast and hard. Arousal continues to build, turning the low squelches into distinct suctions. Every nerve in your body is ignited, seared by the heat as he laps at the overflowing wetness that seeps out of your entrance. A satisfied purr sounds in his throat, and the vibrations dare your hips to buck in spite of the iron grip that holds you down.  
It thrills him to see you steadily fall apart like this, coming so undone before him, dissolving under the weight of your pleasure. It’s just as you had wanted. More. So you can take it, can’t you? You can take more? 
Neuvillette slots your throbbing clit into his mouth, hot tongue relentlessly striking the swollen nub with viscous lashes, while his fingers continue to bully your insides with no intention of slowing down. Sucking harder, fucking faster—you keen at the added stimulation, back arching clean off the bed in blinding pleasure, unable to do anything more than let out jagged sobs as you cum.
Your entire body grows taut as he sees you through the end of this high, before finally drawing out with one last sleight of his hand, so that his fingertips might graze along the velvet top of your walls, bidding farewell with another shudder-inducing wave of euphoria. He exits his soiled digits, clearly pleased as he inspects the amount of slick that coats his elegant hand. 
“You’re absolutely divine.” He hums whilst licking up the side of his wrist, so as not to waste a single drop of your liquid pleasure. It’s intoxicating how exquisite you are, more decadent than even the most pristine of waters. “Perhaps you’d like a taste?”
His offer is rhetorical at best, as he answers for you, already slipping his slender fingers into your open mouth, tangling them with your tongue, until the first bits of drool begin to dribble from your lips. 
He unties your wrists, releasing them from the ribbon’s hold; time and experience have proven that you’ll need something to grasp onto. In a haste, Neuvillette discards what remains of his clothes, and his cock springs forward in all its glory: long and thick, pale tip leaking and thrumming with desire. 
“You’re absolutely sure… ?” he mumbles, voice trailing off, almost embarrassed. He can no longer control the way his hips twitch in excitement, begging to bury his cock into your warmth, but for his gentle heart’s sake, he needs to hear you say it again.
You laugh out a soft ‘yes’ but just for good measure, you rake your nails down his chest, applying just enough pressure to tickle his nerves. “Use me,” you goad. “Come on. Be wicked, my dragon.” 
Neuvillette exhales, chuckling softly at humanity's arrogance. Wicked dragon. If that was what you wanted... “I wonder if you’d still say the same after I’ve finished with you.”
He pins you back down in one fell move, and aligns himself to your entrance, stopping after inserting only the tip. A delicate whimper leaves your lips as you wince at that familiarly sweet stretch, but you and your little cunt are both so eager to please—the continued arousal you churn out, weeping nonstop, and already clenching around just his cockhead. You wriggle into him, trying to fuck yourself deeper on his fat cock as you adjust to his size. 
Reaching up, you pull him into a seemingly reassuring kiss, hands smoothing over the framing pieces of his hair, before curving around his jaw. His lips follow yours, but as you pull away and the short pieces of his hair fall back into place, you notice how his slitted reptilian pupils are dilated almost round. 
“You wish for me not to hold back,” his voice comes in a low growl as he inches further into your cunt, “so please show me how resilient you are.”
It’s all the warning you receive before he slides the rest of his length to the hilt, burying himself in your creamy insides. A shattered sob tears through the room, and your arms fly around his neck in a desperate attempt to anchor yourself, but it only pulls him closer as he leans more of his weight into you, pressing down and reinforcing the heavy plow of his merciless hips. 
Taking him all at once like this burns like wildfire. Pain from the sudden, rough stretch spreads hot and fast, the small embers bursting into a blaze of arousal as pleasure breezes through just as quickly—like air infinitely adding to an already devouring flame. 
“You’re taking me so well,” he praises, turning his head to reward a small kiss to your cheek. Your hole gushes, rushing to quell the heat, and the added lubrication helps you settle into his pace. Still, the dual sensations wash over you like the tide. It pulls you under, drowns you and consumes you with absolute ecstasy.
And just when you think you’ve grown accustomed, Neuvillette lifts your hips, aiming for the spot he knows will drag out the most wonderfully broken cries from your throat. Your nails dig into his back, and he groans at the vice grip as you clamp down around his cock. With each powerful thrust, he buries himself balls deep with a force that has your tits bouncing along to his rhythm, letting the wanton sound of your sobs ring throughout the room, loud enough to almost drown out the lewd noise of skin slapping upon skin. 
The coil in your belly is wound so tight that you’re sure it won’t be long until it collapses into itself. That it won’t be long until you yourself are about to implode, like a star ready to burst. 
“I’m going… going to…” Between the ragged breaths and the overwhelming sensations of ecstasy, you can’t even find it in yourself to think straight.
Neuvillette hums, his liquid smooth voice doing nothing to hide his amusement. “You’d do well not to break so soon.”
He thumbs your clit, drawing tight circles, ignoring the way you convulse beneath him. As your back arches, he drags the flat of his teeth from the edges of your collarbones, down through the valley between your breasts. 
Your entire body quivers, legs jolting by reflex to the intensity of your orgasm, vision blurring white as your lover continues to pound relentlessly through your high. There’s a layer of fuzziness over your mind that leaves you feeling as if you’re floating atop calm waters, but the fingers still thrumming on your abused nub are quick to drag you back into the salaciously dangerous depths of your own pleasure. 
A string of pitched whines follow in the aftermath, but the pretty noises you make has him throbbing even from within your tight hole. You ask him not to hold back, yet here you are before him, so small and pitiful, already writhing from the intensity—and he hasn’t even cum yet. 
Tears threaten to fall from your eyes, your body struggling for a break from the stimulation, but Neuvillette finds it quite adorable, in the way that a predator might toy with its prey. He slows his thrusts, but reaches deeper with every roll of his hips, each languid stroke hitting the exact spot that fills your sight with stars. 
The lascivious sounds of your soaked cunt perfectly swallowing his cock, followed by the slap of his heavy balls on your ass—he’s mesmerized by the way he disappears and reappears, and disappears again inside of you. His heart skips, and he bucks, breaking his rhythm. You undo him like no other, and it spurs him on that he too, seems to have the same effect on you. The way your pussy holds on to him so tightly, the helpless cries of his name amidst your hiccuped whimpering… 
He lets out a small chuckle, breath hot and ragged in your ear as he sucks at the inch of skin below. “Surely you can give me another,” he murmurs, the low grumble of his voice reverberating all the way down, until you can feel the vibrations in the hollows of your collarbone. 
Your eyes flutter, desperately blinking away the wetness that has begun to gather at your lash line. Sweet Neuvillette, your Neuvillette who reveres you more than he ought to and touches you like you’re made of glass. Even through the numbing haze, you know that for him, you’d give anything. 
A long, stuttered moan breaks out from between your lips. As if biding his time, he drags the entirety of his cock along your walls, the large vein that wraps around the length gliding along just right, that your back arches and your knees bend. It’s not that he means to move so tortuously slow, but you squeeze him to such an extent that in spite of his aching need to cum, he cannot help but try and savor the delicious way your walls are gripping for dear life. 
Neuvillette pulls out with the sticky squish of your slick. His throbbing cock, long and flushed, glistens with the sheen of your juices. In the emptiness, you think that perhaps he’s taken pity on you and your now overly sensitive cunt, but that just isn’t fair. Not to him, nor you and your once again looming orgasm.
“You haven’t even cum yet,” you gasp, trying to argue through baited breath. The whole point of this was so that he could feel just as good as he always made sure you did. So why would he—
“I know.” 
You can feel him as he lifts you, flipping you over like you’re nothing more than a doll, and manhandles you onto all fours. Limbs weak, mind frazzled, you’re barely able to hold yourself up, so when he realigns himself at your entrance and slams back through your folds with just as much power as before, you quite literally fall apart. 
“Too much?” The low chuckle in your ear is dangerously taunting, wickedly amused and with no sign of its usual sweetness. You’re able to muster a pitiful whine, but the way your entire body trembles tells him everything he needs to know, as he reangles you mid-thrust.
“I believe you said you could take it.” With a particularly powerful snap of his hips, your arms buckle, and you collapse onto the mattress. The intensity continues to send you jolting forward, but his reaffirmed grip on your waist holds your hips in place.
Nothing deters him as he ruts into you, hitting deep new angles that have your fingers grasping at the sheets while your cunt grasps onto his cock. With every slap of his skin against yours, his tip threatens to kiss your cervix, the aftershocks rippling through you until they’re released as broken sobs, muffled into the bed. 
How unfortunate that such noises, so very sweet to his ears, would be hidden from the world. Tangling his fingers along your scalp, Neuvillette tugs at your hair, lifting your head back so as to hear the pretty melody you sing when your cries ring around the room. Good. Just as the whole of Fontaine should recognize a dragon’s mark on your skin, they too should hear it’s he who pleasures your body so.
Little bits of drool trickle out of your open mouth, your eyes rolling back as he keeps up the brutal pace. Everything feels too overwhelming, yet so tantalizingly good, that your back curves and you’re creaming around him again. 
Electricity shoots through your veins, your lungs desperately racing to catch up with the rapid beat of your heart. The stars painted across your vision drop down to your stomach, exploding with an intensity that rattles you to your core. It’s a flood with no remorse—taking and leaving nothing in return, easily washing away any and all thoughts, until you’re left mewling the name of the only one who could ever give you such a sweet taste of heaven. 
But Neuvillette continues to thrust into you, and as he, too, nears his peak, his tireless strokes finally melt into something a little more forgiving. Just a little. The long drag of his cock slides so smoothly against your slick walls, gentle enough to fool your delirious mind into loosening your grip around him. 
What trickery from the wicked dragon who slams his hips forward with enough force so that your body jostles with every push and pull as he hits all the right spots again and again. Trapped under the weight of his body, all you can do is feel: the heat of the room smothering all your senses, the fervorous thrusts pushing you to your very limit—all you can do is feel and take it as he kisses the spongy head of your cervix, leaving you without a semblance of sanity, blabbering indiscernible nothings that beg to milk him dry.       
“Want more,” you keen, voice as broken as the crystalline tears that roll down your cheeks and melt into the pillows. “Inside. Wan’ it inside.”
Neuvillette laughs, low and airy, strained as his grip tightens, fingertips digging into your hips hard enough that it’d be sure to leave bruises come the morrow. “Is that what you want?”
“Please, please I–” You stop to let out something between a pant and a moan. “Want you to, h-hah, cum inside, wan’ your cum inside me.” Your walls clamp down even harder, as if attempting to trap his cock deep inside you forever, as if you weren’t already tight enough around him. 
White fills his vision, and white fills your womb as Neuvillette cums to the knowledge that you love this. He takes in the sight of you, his precious treasure, now reduced to the likes of a common whore: legs quivering, ass in the air, cunt filled to the brim and leaking from where the two of you merge. All for him. By his doing. 
Such splendor automatically evokes the instinct to claim you in a way far beyond that of human understanding… but you’ve already let him indulge more than enough tonight; he couldn’t possibly ask for more. 
You whimper when you feel him stir again inside you, careful as he brushes past your too-sensitive folds, but even such simple movements hazard to relight the flicker of arousal once again. Every ridge and vein, drawn out so agonizingly slow, sends an inadvertent shiver down your spine until he finally pulls out with a squelch.  
There’s no hope in tearing those sharp, reptilian eyes away from your puffy cunt, abused and messy and leaking with your combined fluids. Neuvillette sucks in a breath, trying to suppress his urges as much as he’s trying to swallow down the desire quickly boiling over in his belly again. Cumming inside you—no, breeding you—was a privilege. For dragons such as he, it’s a ritual reserved only for mates, and given the difference in your physiology, he had never allowed himself to do so—at least not until now, that is. 
In his defense, you had begged for it, and how could he ever deny the very one whom he has entrusted his heart to—especially when you were so beautifully fucked out and unraveled on his cock like that. And perhaps he’s lived among humans long enough to forgive this indulgence as a paradigm of fleeting desire, though nothing of what he feels for you could ever be considered fleeting. 
He parts your folds with two slender fingers, giving himself a better view as his cum now seeps out with suent access. You whine again when you feel him drag his digits down the sides of your pussy lips, catching the overflow before it can fall onto the sheets, and stuffing it right back into your little hole. No point in stopping now, if he’s already committed his sin.
From your half-lidded gaze, you manage to steal a glance at your lover, and judging from the erection that still stands stiff as a rod, he has yet to be satiated. In the attempt to break through the shadow of delirium, you lift your head, shifting your weight back onto your elbows, and forcing your battered body to turn just the slightest bit over. 
“You’re still hard,” you note through staggered breath, “We can go again if you want.”
Neuvillette looks down as if he hasn’t already been feeling the near painful arousal throbbing in his groin. Of course he’s still hard—how could he not be; you’re so complacent before him, offering yourself to him like that. But perhaps he is too soft-hearted, for he only lets out a reassuring hum as he leans forward to place a gentle kiss on your forehead. 
“You were beyond perfect tonight,” he murmurs. “It… might not be pleasurable for you if I continue anymore. I can finish myself.” 
Lovestruck, you shake your head. “I can take it r’member?” Your large eyes, red-rimmed and dreamy, plead for him to use you—use you to his own content, use you so that he’d feel just as good as he always makes you feel. You nibble at your bottom lip, bashful. “You can even use your other form if you'd like...” 
Your words catch him off guard, and he immediately stills in a half-hearted attempt to collect himself as another wave of pure, unadulterated desire pulses through his entire being. Neuvillette swallows hard before letting out a slow, shaky breath. His cock twitches and his muscles tense beneath the creamy skin that now seems to gleam with a soft shine, revealing scattered patches of effervescent cerulean scales. You affect him more than you could possibly know, revitalizing such carnal urges that ignore his will and allow his body to react so enthusiastically.
“You’re sure…?” His normally polished tone is husked in a defiant strain. Despite the way his pupils are blown wide and wild with lust, conflict still swims in the shallows of his expression, made clear by the way his voice rasps as he desperately claws to retain even a semblance of his composure. 
The tips of your fingers trace the blue streaks that protrude from the crown of his silver head, now hardened into twin ribbons of ivory; his horns, delicate but strong, glow a luminescent azure—so warm and inviting in its radiance… You grasp them tight, pulling him down with you, as you fall back into the bed, his lips pressed against yours. Of course you’re sure. He’d never hurt you, your Neuvillette would never ever hurt you.
“Devious…” he whispers between kisses, your tongue and teeth clashing in a waltz of their own, as his body drapes over yours. 
It’s not the first time you’ve seen him in this form, crossed somewhere between a human and a dragon, as beautiful as he is powerful. But it’s certainly the first time you’ve ever attempted to take him like this. He’s bigger in this form—you can already feel it as he grinds up between your legs. Longer. Thicker. Ribbed and embossed with the same pearlescent blue scales. Beautifully intimidating, just like the dragon sovereign himself. 
And as you continue to marvel, he lets his cock rest across your lower stomach, sizing you up. His fervor shines through in the way he’s already leaking a mess of sticky precum atop the smooth skin of your belly. A satisfied hum vibrates in his throat, clearly enthused. 
“This is how deep I’ll be,” he muses, almost apologetic of the incoming stretch you’d have to endure. “I’m beginning to wonder if I can even fit inside you.” 
Would it be wicked of him to admit, even to himself, that he enjoys the way you wriggle and cry just taking him in his human form? And yet… he’s forced to steady his breathing in a poor attempt at grounding himself—a task near impossible as you roll your hips up, ardently shaking your head no, outright ignoring the last out he offers.
“I will… make it fit.” They’re the last words you manage to wrangle out before being overtaken by the need to be full and filled. There’s no reason you should be so terribly, terribly hollow, when he’s right there. Neuvillette chokes back a laugh; your unyielding determination sends blood rushing to his erection, desperate to feel your velvet walls crowd around him again.
Finally relenting, he teases your entrance—running his cock up and down your slit, spreading your wetness, before slapping your clit with the tip—reminding you just how sensitive you still are. Gasping, you jerk away from the stimulation that once again taunts your nerves. Your hole, however, clenches around nothing, eager to please. 
But perhaps you’ve greatly underestimated just how big he is, because he barely makes it past the threshold of your folds, before the pleasure pain of the stretch begins to take over. That, and the overstimulation from your previous orgasms, already have you instinctively trying to snap your legs shut, but the firm hold on your thighs forbid you from doing so.
“Ha-ah N-neuvi—” A twisted sense of pride swells in his chest at the way you can hardly speak as your breath hitches and your lungs desperately search for air. “’s too big,” you sob.
He gives you a momentary reprieve to adjust, while his hand snakes down to run sloppy circles over your clit.
“More?” he whispers. 
It takes you a minute to respond, but he waits until finally your voice shakes with the violence of each hiccupped sob. “More.. please…”
A baritone hum sounds in his throat as he pulls forward, pressing wet kisses to your jaw in a quiet reassurance, effectively sliding a couple inches deeper, as he does so. “You can take it, my love. You’re so pretty like this.”
Your arms wrap around his neck, your hold eliciting a long, low groan from the dragon. Wherever you squirm, he follows, pressing more of his weight onto you, burying more of his cock into you. Each ridged inch that slides past your folds, seems to push the thoughts right out of your head, letting them dissipate into thin air until you’re left mindlessly moaning sweet praises to his name. 
Desperate to accommodate the unfamiliar enormity of his dragon cock, your walls ripple and tense around him, back arching into him, wanting to feel ever closer to the love of your life, determined to push your cunt to its limit for him. For your Neuvillette. 
Neuvillette. Neuvillette. Neuvillete. He’s all you can think about; him and his monster cock that seems to split you so deliciously open. It’s wave after wave of heat that sets your insides ablaze, soothed by the waters of arousal that have you begging for more, and restarting the cycle until he finally bottoms out, and you feel as if you’ve been electrified. You squeeze your eyes shut, but with the way his bulbous tip prods at your cervix, your mind goes blank, and the tears fall regardless. 
“There…” you pant, eyes glassy from the euphoria of feeling so incredibly full. “’s all in.”
“Yes,” he praises, softly. “Look at you, so nice and tight for me.” 
He wipes the salt from your cheeks, distracting you with a delicate kiss. His fangs are more prominent in this form; you can feel them as he grins against your lips, whilst whispering breathy nothings that tell of how good you are for him, how perfect, how he should be so lucky to have you like this, to have you as his. 
When your body eases enough, he pulls away, though the subtle shift of his cock still drags a pitched whine out from your lips. If he’s to be honest, he cannot tear his gaze from where the two of you are joined. It’s mesmerizing, hypnotic, to see how he splits you open, to feel how you mold into the shape of him, to imagine just how much your little cunt had to stretch so that he might rest comfortably inside.
Though, comfortable might be an overstatement due to the way your muscles tense and release so tightly around him, clamoring for more of his attention.  Eyes darkening with lust, Neuvillette smooths a hand over your abdomen, cerulean scales cold upon your skin.
“Can you feel me right…” He draws a clawed finger delicately across the skin of your belly, where his cock rests parallel underneath. “Here…”
He leaves more than just a faint line of red where his talon rakes. Yes, you want to say. You can feel the faint prickle of his claw on your skin, you can feel how the sharpness sends a shiver ringing through your body, and of course you can feel how he’s sheathed his dragon cock right into the very depths of your cunt, deeper than anyone’s ever been, deeper than he’s ever been… But the only sounds that spill through your lips are another stream of broken sobs, fever touched by how close you are to cumming just from being filled.
“Go on, darling. Cum for me.” He can feel you pulsing around him, clenching and unclenching in search of sweet release, yet he makes no additional moves to help you, leaving you to your own devices.
At this point, you can no longer tell if you’re making things better or worse, as every little movement knocks you into reaction—like dominoes toppling over until every piece of you has been unraveled. You writhe atop the soiled sheets for any sort of friction, but it’s too much when his tip knocks against the entrance to your womb. So you shift away, letting the ridges on his shaft graze against your syruped walls, inciting another wave of need. The scales continue to tip between ‘too much’ and ‘more’, until you finally work yourself into a delirious orgasm, on nothing but his cock inside you and your own incessant squirming. 
As you continue to ride out your high, Neuvillete finally begins to move, tearing himself away from your fluttering vice grip with a tremulous moan, because fuck you’re still so tight around him, still so warm and wet even after cumming for what? The fourth time tonight? Pressure lands heavy over your frame as he begins to rock into you, folding you in half as he does. 
He fucks you slow and even, stretching you out even more with every new stroke. Your mouth drops open in a silent scream as this new position affords him the privilege to reach impossibly deeper. Despite his shallow thrusts, each drag of his cock still blooms an ache from all the hidden spots that he has no choice but to touch, though it’s quick to pass, as pleasure continues to coil in your belly. 
It’s so much all at once. You can’t take it, it’s too much. But the soul-shattering euphoria of being so utterly full, is unparalleled. You want more, you need more.   
“My pearl,” he whispers, though his voice is gruff, “my heart… I want to hear you.” 
And so you oblige him, wailing something broken and pitched and strangled, at the sudden snap of his hips, at the way he bumps into your cervix and seems to rattle your organs about. 
“F-fuck,” you cry, without thinking. Not that you can anyway, when the push-pull tide of his thrusts raises you to new heights of delirium. “H-ah god, fuck Neu–”
Another sharp, jutting thrust cuts you off as the dragon above you snarls, clearly agitated by your crass choice of words. “There are no gods to help you here.” Not in Fontaine where he rules, and certainly not here in his home.
There’s a feral wildness that shines in his bright vishap eyes, and his possessive streak flares—dragons have no natural inclination to share after all. It’s clear in the way his pace changes: faster, harsher, more ragged—a ferocity befitting of an elemental dragon ruler. But titles aside, he’s still your Neuvillette, and every move he makes is still laced with a tenderness, so as not to break you more than he already has. 
“Tell me you’re mine,” he commands, dragging his tongue up the length of your throat.
“Yours. ‘m yours, Neuvillette.”
In and out, in and out. His long strokes guide the ridges of his cock back and forth through your tender muscles, leaving you to mumble mindless nonsense as you convulse and keen beneath him. Whatever pain you had felt earlier has long chipped away into undeniable pleasure as you near the precipice of yet another orgasm. Eyes glazed over in all consuming ecstasy, all you know to do is to chase your lust, and so your hips grind back, rolling together like waves in a storm. 
Amidst the flagrant wet sounds of your rabid fucking, you cum again, lashes fluttering as your eyes roll, muscles tight as they tremble from such rapture—so lovely, so beautiful. Your siren call of pretty cries spill from your lips, intermingled with weak babbles of his name. You’re so breathtaking like this in your post-climax haze: fucked out and cloudy-eyed, panting into the cool air as his slowed thrusts still rack up an aftershock of shudders.
Neuvillette bows his head, once again trailing wet kisses across your collarbones, before pausing to hover his lips right over the juncture of your neck and shoulder, his warm breath a familiar spot of comfort in this maddening pleasure. Perhaps it’s some sort of sixth sense unique to only the most attuned of lovers, ones whose souls seem to harmonize in perfect resonance, but there’s hesitance in the way he suckles at the spot, fangs ghosting over your tender skin.
“S’okay… you can do it.” Your soft, dreamy sighs of approval are accompanied by the languid tilt of your neck, jeopardizing more of your delicate skin to the dangers of his teeth. “You can mark me… w’nna be your mate…”
Choking back a moan, Neuvillette pistons thrice more into your cunt—pulling out until just his tip remains, and then plunging back into your gooey insides, sending you into another round of dizzying convulsions. His own orgasm follows, seeing stars as he places an amorous bite to the crook of your neck using only the flat of his teeth. 
With how deep he’s buried, ribbons of his cum shoot right into your womb, spilling out into every cavity, and painting your interior white. Warmth blossoms from the inside out. Your heart is full, mumbling happy nothings of ‘mates’ in between sniffles, while a creamy ring forms around the base of his cock, thick liquid oozing from where he ends and you begin. His own chest rises and falls in jagged patterns, but his only want is to seek your lips, to drink in your mewls, and exchange sweet kisses, so that your soul and his, may meld together as they dance in the shape of your breaths intertwined.
He strokes your hair, planting easy kisses all around as he unplugs himself, letting loose the flood of cum that seeps out of your hole, but you whine at the loss, wanting nothing more than to be ever close to your newly consummated mate. Neuvillette only nuzzles into your neck, deep purrs of content reverberating from his chest as he lazily rubs his scent all over you. Meanwhile, a quick swish of his sapphire tail up the sticky underside of your thigh, teases another pulse from your cunt, and by reflex, you push out another dollop of white. 
A small tap tap to his shoulder distracts him from his scenting, and he looks up with a tilt to his head and a small furrow to his brow, his normally sharp eyes full of earnest concern, relaxing only once he finishes reading through the bleary, dulcet tones of adoration that glow in your half-lidded eyes. You poorly suppress your little giggles—although he often disagrees, your lover really can be quite adorable. 
Fontaine’s Iudex Neuvillette is elegant, poised, and meticulously polished… but here in the quiet night hours, in the privacy of your hearth, your Neuvillette is unruly-haired and damp-skinned from satiating the beastly desires of his still tender heart. You reach out a tired arm, first brushing back the pieces of hair that cling to his skin, then wrapping your palm around to cup his face. 
“Was I a good mate?” Your hand slips down from his cheek to play with the tips of his silvery hair. “W’nna be the best for you.”
“You already are the best for me.” His hand, no longer clawed nor scaled, brings yours back up for a kiss to your knuckles. “The only one for me.” 
He rolls off of you, sweeping you into his embrace, as he carries you off to the bathroom. Your head rests heavily against his chest, but your happy hums and quiet murmurs of ‘good,’ tell him that you have not drifted off into slumber just yet.  
“You truly are a wonder,” he breathes, dipping his head to place a soft kiss to your forehead. “And it would be my honor to have you as my mate… but not tonight.”
His instincts had urged him to do it, to permanently claim you as his, and mark you as a dragon would, but his heart vehemently disagrees. The most sacred bond known to his kind is an ultimatum in your relationship, and it is one he refuses to be the sole architect of, so perhaps the two of you can revisit this conversation again once you’re more clear-headed; his answer would remain the same anyways.
edit 10/2024: please Do Not Follow if you are “just here to read,” with the expectation that i will post more fics of this caliber, or any fics At All. this is mainly a selfship blog with VERY occasional writing, thanks.
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notes2: writing this took years off my life, but i hope you enjoyed it nonetheless ! as always, thank u sm for reading, and reblogs + feedback are very much appreciated ♡
notes3: here is a little visual of how i imagine the dress at the beginning to look like, but of course you can always imagine it however you like since i’ve purposely left it rather vague : )
© silkjade — do not steal, plagiarize, translate or repost any content onto any other platform
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gyuswhore · 6 months ago
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Sit Down
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anniversary event [closed]
kim mingyu x reader
prompt(s): getting aroused by the other's jealousy/obsession with them, "Could he/she/they do it like this?”, “you're sexy when you're angry”
word count: 5.1k
warnings: smut (MINORS DNI), fluff, potter!mingyu, they're married, reader discovers jealousy, oral (m.rec), penetration (unprotected!!!), kissing, breast play, clit stimulation, they're nasty as hell idk what to tell you
synopsis: It isn't your fault that you feel this way, especially as you watch her hands trace over your husband's own.
It isn't your fault that you can barely go on with your day with that cursed image replaying in your mind like a broken record.
And it certainly isn't your fault that you find yourself completely naked on your husband's lap while his clay-clad hands cannot touch you.
[a/n]: @highvern at the scene of the crime as always, we all have to thank her for her service as she betas for me and encourages my tomfoolery. enjoy this and let me know your thoughts in the rbs, comments or send me an ask!!!!!
masterlist
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The grip you have on the file is proving to be detrimental to the cheap plastic covering. Not that you could blame yourself as you watch your husband through the window of his pottery studio, leaning over to help a student with her discombobulated salad bowl. 
It was a beautiful morning, the beach across from the boardwalk sparingly occupied with delighted tanners and swimmers, the low buzz of waves reaching the shore sending a calming draft across the area. Envious as you were of Mingyu and his impeccable real estate choices, especially right now as your heel clad feet ache to take a dip in the waters, you couldn’t help but feel all the more irked that this was the background the image inside the studio was sitting against. 
Through the large glass windows, Mingyu is pressing his foot over top of his very pretty student’s on the pedal to force the pottery wheel to spin, hands over her own as he guides her fingers to put pressure on the wet clay. A spiteful part of you pushes a thought in your mind, that your husband was attempting to fix a lost cause, especially when his student seemed quite insistent in her soft smiles and keeping her gaze on the fingers that cover her own, rather than actually fixing the abomination on the pottery wheel. 
You don’t know how long you’ve been standing there by the time he’s done, straightening his back to turn his attention to the other students that make their attempts at their half done projects. Mingyu catches your figure through the window and immediately breaks into a big smile, clay covered hand coming to wave at you. 
Taking it as your cue to walk into the studio, you return neither his gorgeous smile or his occupied wave as you strut through the glass doors. Your husband meets you on the other side of the open space, hands now washed clean as he leans over to place a kiss on your cheek. 
“Hey, you,” he says in greeting, hands drying on a towel. 
All you can think about is if that salad bowl girl can see you, and you thank goodness you wore your nice top today. 
“Here.” You merely push the slightly crumpled file of documents to his chest, jaw set and lips tight. 
“Oh, thanks,” he comments as he grabs the papers pushed towards him, smile dropping a little at your abrupt attitude. “Is everything alright?” 
“Hm? ‘Course,” you answer, adjust the strap of your bag. “I have to get back to work. Be careful about your paperwork next time, I can’t keep making trips across town for this.”
You bite your tongue as soon as you say it, the words tumbling out before you can help it. Can’t keep making trips across town for this? Last time you checked, you were looking for passive excuses to make the trip to your husband’s studio just to see him during the day. 
“Oh.” His brows are furrowed, the frown apparent on his face. “I–I didn’t think you’d be too busy today, you said you’d be done early so—I—nevermind. I’m sorry I pulled you out of work for this, I’ll be careful next time.”
There’s a pang in your heart as you hear him apologise, immediately mad at yourself for going on and ruining his mood. What were you annoyed at? That he was doing his job? 
Your gaze lands behind him where most of his students are occupied with their projects, but just one whose eyes dart between you and Mingyu. 
Taking a step back, you’re about to walk out before you feel him grab your wrist. “D’you wanna have dinner at the new restaurant down the pier after work? We can watch the sunset too, haven’t done that in a while.”
You want to scream yes. Of course you want to watch a beach sunset with your husband. Of course you want to eat at the restaurant you’ve been waiting eagerly for with your husband. And you aren’t entirely sure if this reaction is simply because you’ve been stressed lately, but the sticky feeling is pushing you to make your claim in some way, somehow. 
Biting back another strangely snarky reply, you make an attempt to fix your stoic face and walk back to Mingyu. Leaning up, you kiss the corner of his mouth in what you hope is slightly reassuring. 
“I’ll see you in a few hours.”
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Kicking off your heels is the first thing you do once you make it back to your desk, taking no time to punch the power on button on your computer. You pull a file from the stack next to you, one that sits at the bottom, with a harder than necessary yank. Bad idea, because as you scramble to stop the pile from tipping over entirely, you can only think of other ways your day could get worse. 
Before the worst of it can hit the floor, you find a second set of hands catching the strewing papers. 
“Thanks, Han,” you say as you attempt to reorganise the documents, taking the extra ones off his hands. 
“Have the laws of physics forsaken you? Or do you just like reorganising paperwork?” Hansol asks, sipping on something from the stupid horse mug Mingyu had made for him in light of his promotion. 
Huffing, you only haphazardly stuff the files to the corner to be done with it, opening the file you need as your computer finally boots up. “Don’t you have manager stuff to do?” 
“Being a manager means I can put off doing manager stuff,” he states. “Besides, I’m taking care of my peers, can you imagine the catastrophe that could’ve been if I didn’t swoop in to save you?”
“Papers on the floor? How catastrophic indeed,” you monotone as you click away at trying to find a particular excel sheet. 
“How was Mingyu?”
Stiffening, you want to curse Hansol at reminding you of the very thing you did not want to think of right now. 
“He was fine.”
“You were back earlier than usual, thought you would’ve had lunch with him.”
That was your plan, but clearly the universe had other ways for you to go about your day. Like thinking about an overly flirty student and her all too oblivious teacher. 
“He…he had a workshop today,” you simply comment. 
“Okay, Elsa, who shoved an ice cube up your ass?” You can hear the sneer in his voice, the judgmental stare. 
Groaning loudly, you can only slam your forehead onto your desk in an all too dramatic fashion. “Can you drop it? Please?”
“Ah,” he drags. “Trouble in paradise. Understood. I will be at my desk if you want to complain about your husband like Margaret from Finance.”
Margaret from Finance. The woman who’s entire catalogue of marital issues would be solved if she and her husband simply spoke to each other once in a while. Perhaps even held hands on occasion. 
You wince as you envision yourself becoming as stuck up and miserable as that, Hansol’s harmless comparison sending you into yet another spiral. It wasn’t that serious, this was all because your brain was stressed, horny and in love. The fact that your husband looked like how he did wasn’t really helping either. 
With a little more aggression than you usually would’ve done with, you attempt to skim through the files as quickly as humanly possible, flicking through the useless filler pages to get to the ones that actually required your attention. 
You send a passive aggressive email to Hansol entailing his job to keep things precise. 
Shoving forkfuls of salad into your mouth, your mouse clicks louder than anyone else in the area, having gone back to change your cursor speed about thrice since you turned your computer on. 
Your phone dings. Closing your eyes, you count to ten before turning to look at the illuminated screen beside you. 
[Gyu <3]: did u have lunch?
[Gyu <3]: i wanted us to get sum together but u zoomed off : (((
[Gyu <3]: im done with my classes for the day. The students were asking ab you earlier when u came in heh
[Gyu <3]: cant wait to see u tonight i looooooveee u <333
God, he makes it hard to stay mad at him. 
Snapping your head back to your monitor, you close your eyes once again as you question the war in your head and chest. Why were you mad at him? There was nothing to be mad about. Did you expect him to go about his day covered in plastic wrap and a neon ‘OFF LIMITS’ sign all day? The ring on his finger was supposed to do the job just fine. 
You sigh as you force yourself to text him back something that wasn’t entirely passive aggressive. Typing and erasing, and typing again and erasing again. A smiley face to seal it into something you were not feeling, and send. 
It’s late in the afternoon by the time you’re done, the sun less blaring as it pours through the office windows. You flick the last file shut, power off your computer and spring up to your feet, immediately gathering your things. Phone, ID, keys, and the last plastic file in your hands, you stalk towards Hansol’s desk and slam the papers next to his computer. 
He nearly chokes on his pocky stick as you spit out your final notes in rapid fire, not caring if you were indecipherable in the slightest. Hansol’s eyebrows remain in the air by the time you’re done, spinning on your heels and walking straight towards the elevators. 
“See you, Monday!” you finally hear him call out and you don’t turn to return his goodbye. Something that might have given you a strike but you could threaten him to take it off all the same. 
Besides, you had somewhere to be, and the idea churning in your brain didn’t seem like it wanted to wait. 
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The sun is setting by the time you get to the beach boardwalk, climbing the steps to the line of establishments that overlook the significantly more occupied shore. Everything is perfect. Warm just the right amount, the sunlight forcing everything in its path into an incandescent glow. 
What you would’ve given for a nice lie on one of the beach chairs to release an entire day’s worth of tense muscles. But alas, you trudge straight down the boardwalk and walk the way to Mingyu’s studio. When you’re nearly there, you see the glass door of the studio open from a distance, immediately recognising the part timer leaving for the day. 
You cross paths as he walks towards you in the opposite direction, lighting up as he recognises you through your work attire. 
“Oh, hi!” Chan chirps, arm raised in a half wave. 
“Hi! Clocking out?” you ask as you stop to greet him. 
“Uh—yeah, Mingyu let me go early.” He’s grinning. 
“Good to hear. You enjoy the rest of your night, alright?” 
“Yeah–uh, you too!” he stutters once again as he continues to smile wide. You think nothing of it and continue your short walk to where the studio doors were. 
Coming round, you find the large glass door and walls have been blocked out with the blinds, the blaring CLOSED sign right at the entrance. 
You stand there in front of the door like a fool, taking a deep breath, eyes closed as you gain your bearings. Grabbing the shiny handle, you push the unlocked glass open. 
The bell at the top jingles, signalling a customer, and you watch your husband sitting at one of the turntables, clearly occupied. The studio is completely empty except for him, the whirr of the spinning table coming to a halt as he turns to tell whoever came in that they were closed for the day. 
It’s revolting. He’s wearing his usual black tee, stained with months of splattered clay, his hair tousled like he’d run his hands through it before he started his project. The sun seeps in through the neglected edges of the top of the glass walls, past the blinds that cover most of them, casting him in an unbelievable light. It’s revolting, he’s done nothing and it’s making your head reel; revolting. 
“We’re—oh, you’re early!” There it is, that stupid smile he can’t help but flash at every last person he sees, directed straight at you laced with nothing but love. 
Reaching behind you, you push the metal lock on the door to click it shut, locking the both of you inside, and the rest of the beach and boardwalk out. Right after, you begin to kick off your heels. 
“I already made the reservations for an hour from now, let me change and wash up so we can go to the beach till—”
“Sit down.”
He was halfway out of his seat as he was talking, ready to leave his half done work on the turntable to leave with you. Your words come out firm, a strange tone like you were giving him a command. 
It works, and the shock has him immediately falling back into his chair. The force pushes the chair away from the turn tables, now half facing you.  
Dropping your bag, you shuck your long coat off and leave it on the floor. Eyeing his hands, they’re covered in wet clay, suspended away from his body so as to not ruin his clothes more than they already are, speckled with dried clay and paint. 
He recovers quickly, confused as he watches you fiddle with the buttons on your bottoms, rising out of his chair once again. 
“What are you—” 
“I said,'' you grunt as you finally push your bottoms down so they hit the floor. “Sit down.” 
The shift in his face makes it obvious it has clicked in his head, staring at you as you walk towards him in just your blouse as the situation escalates faster than he can keep up with. 
“Right now? Can you at least let me—”
Through his blabbering you’ve reached him and swung a leg over his lap, seating yourself on his clothed thighs as he moves his hands away, making sure not to get clay all over your blouse. 
His hands may be occupied in a different sense, but you choose to busy yours in other ways. Taking his face in your hands, you lock your mouths in an open mouthed kiss, rendering him speechless. 
Taking no time to think, nor to let him think, you push your hips down to meet his own in a deep grind, panty clad pussy making contact with the rough of his jeans right over his bulge. The feeling is so sudden, spiking throughout your system as you hear him take a sharp inhale still pressed into your mouth.
That was you. That was you getting that reaction out of him, no matter how small it was. The thought has you gripping the back of his head, fingers making home in the short strands of his hair as you let go from the kiss. 
Wasting no time, you push his head back and stick your tongue out, licking a stripe from the base of his throat right up to his jaw. He shivers beneath you, and it only muddles your mind even more. 
You can feel his bulge beneath you growing larger and larger by the second, pressing into your inner thigh as his breathing grows exponentially heavier in your ear. Locking eyes with him, you trail your other hand down to graze over the front of his shirt, pressing into the bumps and ridges that lie beneath.
Reaching his buckle, you hook your finger underneath the gap and pull at the metal. As you let go, it snaps back into place with a resounding cling! Keeping the eye contact, you drift even lower, your fingers find the growing tent in his jeans as you cup the bulge. Moving your hands in the way you know he likes it, you curb your speed to drag out the feeling for him. 
“Fuck,” you hear him curse lowly. 
It’s becoming impossible for him to keep his composure, especially to keep his hands away from your body that sits on him. He gets close, fingers brushing the white of your blouse in a moment of confusion, instant brown on the surface as his wet, clay hands ruin your shirt. 
“If you really can’t keep your hands to yourself,” you say, halting your movements on his crotch. “I guess this’ll have to go too.”
Not bothering to undo all the buttons, you tug the first couple ones unfastened and pull your blouse over your head, throwing it somewhere behind his head. Quickly, you reach behind and unclasp your bra, flinging it away in the same general area. You’re now almost entirely naked while he remains clothed head to toe. 
Your nipples harden as they meet the air in the studio, Mingyu’s eyes set on your mounds as he takes them in. 
Before he has the opportunity to do anything, you slip off of your seat in his lap, knees slamming the floors in your haste as you kneel before him. Hands flying, you tug at the buckle of his belt, undoing it despite your hurried motions. 
“You’ve been off today, are you sure everything’s alright?” Mingyu asks from, still wide eyed as he watches helplessly as you yank his jeans enough to reveal the final layer of his underwear. It doesn’t take you long to take his entire length out of there too, needing him in front of you.
“Do not ask me about my feelings when I’m trying to fuck you.”
“What on earth–shit!”
You’ve taken his now fully hard length into your hand, licking a strip from the base of his cock up to the bulbous head. The tip of your tongue teases the head ever so lightly, and Mingyu watches as his head and your tongue match in their reds. He watches the way your tongue dips into the pooling white of his precum, pushing into his slit as the tip of your tongue wiggles slightly. 
The fact that he cannot touch only heightens the effects of your teasing, clayed hands balling into fists just to feel something on his fingertips. 
Soon, your lips have wrapped around the head of cock as you let it rub against the beginnings of the inside of your soft mouth. Letting go, you take him in again, this time running your tongue over his slit, feeling his hips twitch beneath you as you continue to take him in and out, only to take him back in again. 
In one motion, you sink your mouth lower onto his dick, feeling the head of his cock run against the roof of your mouth. Mingyu hisses audibly amidst his very loud and heavy breathing. 
When you feel him hit the beginnings of your throat, you pull back, bringing your hand to curve around the base to cover what you couldn’t fit, pumping him up and down as you continue to pull his member in and out of your mouth. 
He’s moaning loud, the echoes resonating off the walls as you hear your name slip from his mouth over, and over, and over again. It only encourages you as you move down deeper, his cock touching the back of your throat in more familiarity than before. 
Everything is wet; the spit and precum turning into a shiny gleam on his cock and on the lower half of your face, the heat between your legs that makes you feel oh so empty. Clenching around nothing, you resist the urge to bring a hand down to relieve yourself. 
“Are you ovulating or something, why are you suddenly…suddenly, fucking hell I don’t know.” 
Releasing him from your mouth with a loud pop, you rear your head to look up at him, the lower half of your face covered in a wet glisten. Your hand continues to pump him as you watch his face remain contorted in pleasure.
In a daze, you don’t realise what you’re saying as you blab. “Could she do it like this?”
“What?”
“Could she do it like this?” you repeat like a mantra, needing to hear his answer. “Could she make you feel like this?”
“What are you talking about?” It’s taking Mingyu every bit of his soul to form coherent words. 
In one swift motion, you’ve hoisted yourself back on your feet, nails digging into his thighs through his pants. 
Hovering over his lap, you take his shaft once again, but this time you push your panties aside with your hand and bring it close to your heat, brushing the head of his cock over your wet folds, using him to feel the pleasure that builds. 
“God, you’re so wet,” he blabs as he throws his head back at the feeling. “I wanna touch you, fuck I need to get this clay off, I need to touch you.”
He’s brought his mouth to latch onto your nipple, evoking a loud gasp from you as feel him circle your nub with his tongue before sucking. Letting go, he sticks his tongue out as his only weapon, flicking it repeatedly as you continue to rub his wet cock over your equally wet cunt. 
Lining him up with your entrance, you sink onto his head as you let out a loud moan, feeling the tip stretch you out in the familiar way you’ve been craving all day. It’s like your brain is buffering as you recover from the bout of pleasure, barely registering that he’s continued to assault your other nipple now. 
Your free hand comes to toy with your relieved tit, twisting your spit covered nipple between your fingers as his dick pushes further and further inside you. 
Fully sheathed, you pull your husband’s face away from your breast as you bring his lips to your own, kissing him deep as you clench around his hard cock.
“Don’t. Do that,” he hisses against your lips, hands suddenly closing in your waist, so close before he realises he can’t. “‘M gonna fucking come, I’m so serious.”
The news is enlightening, especially as it encourages you to lift your hips ever so slightly, and curl back back down in an initial thrust. Again, and again, and again till you’re moving your hips at a swift pace, striking down on his length as you both moan into each other's mouths.
The feeling is electrifying, and the borderline pornographic noises your husband is making is only making it all the more easier to gush around his member, to move your hips faster as you feel the knot in your abdomen tighten and loosen. 
“You feel amazing, so fucking good,” he grunts as he mouths the column of your throat. “My baby, my darling, my wife.”
And when the burn in your thighs becomes more than just a mental battle, your hips slowing despite the mind boggling feeling and the choked sobs that come out of you, you feel Mingyu’s hips lift from the chair he’d been trapped in, pushing into you instead. 
His still dirty hands have taken hold of the top of the back legs of the chair, helping himself push off his seat to thrust into you rapidly. 
“Touch yourself, baby,” he says. “Rub your clit for me.”
Who are you to deny him, one hand on one of his broad shoulders while the other flies down to the mess that’s becoming of your cunt. Rubbing two fingers over your clit, you throw your head back in a loud moan as you feel yourself beginning to close in.
Mingyu is watching the apex of your thighs; the way your fingers work against your swollen clit, the way his dick disappears inside you, a ring of sinful white foaming at the base of his cock. He twitches inside you, a clear indication that he was also close. 
Your breasts are a sight to behold, and the scene before him is enough to make him bust entirely. Bouncing tits that he cannot touch, perfectly red, puffed pussy he cannot touch, the beautiful curves and dips of your waist and thigh, barely illuminated by the setting sun, that he cannot touch. He curses the wretched idea to make a last minute thing on the turntable before you arrived, curses the fact that he should be able to feel all of you. 
He might lose his mind, and he does when your walls clamp down on him like a trap, your moans so loud he’s sure he’ll be hearing them in his ears for weeks. 
“G–Gyu, I’m cumming,” you whimper through the pure brain fog. 
Mingyu fucks you through your orgasm, finally letting himself release his own load into you when he simply can’t take it anymore, dick spasming as he shoots white hot cum into your hole. The added slick makes it easier to slip in and out faster as his orgasm holds out far longer than it usually does, both of your hips twitching like you’d been zapped as you come down from your highs. 
It’s become near impossible to hold up your own weight, slumping against his large frame as you unclench every pinched muscle and joint. Forehead on his shoulder, you take pleasure in the afterglow, breathing in his scent with your nose pressed into the sliver of skin that reveals past his shirt. Sweat, the earthy odour of clay, and the calm familiarity of him.
“I don’t know what I did to have you acting like this,” he breathes into your ear. “But whatever it is, I need to do it more often.”
Sluggishly, you lift your head to look at him. His head is leaned back on the chair, face glowing as you stare into the eyes you fell in love with so long ago. 
“You haven’t done anything,” you sigh. “It was…stupid.”
“That’s the worst thing you could say to me right now.”
You whine, rolling your neck. “What do you want me to tell you?”
He stares. “Who do I need to thank for creating this monster?”
It was a joke, clearly, but you couldn’t help but feel the little pool of pride swell within you anyway. 
“Salad bowl girl.”
“And I’m supposed to know what that means? Do you want a salad bowl? I can make you one.”
“No. The girl in your class this morning with that god awful salad bowl,” you huff. “It looked offensive, she was too busy burning holes into you.”
“Oh no,” he whispers, eyes wide, mouth turning it the beginnings of a hysterical laugh. “My pretty little wife is jealous.”
“If you’re gonna rub it in, I'm getting off.” You try to remove yourself from his lap, slipping his now soft member out of you. 
You’re stopped when you feel the two points of his elbows locking you at the waist, pushing you down. He’s grinning like a fool. “You’re sexy when you’re angry.”
“I’m not angry—”
“Your hello was my dick in your mouth.”
“So you didn’t like it?”
“I’d fire myself in the kiln before I ever say that.” He locks his elbows harder, pulling you closer. “Besides, I think this means I’ve won.”
“Won what?”
“Like you’ve never noticed Chan looking at you like…like he’s got some puppy dog crush on you. I’ve won the battle of composure.” 
You guffaw, “What are you—stop it, he does not!”
He merely leans forward and kisses you, “I don’t blame him. My wife is the most gorgeous thing anyone could ever see.” 
Grabbing him by the elbows, you break free of his hold and get off of his lap, attempting to gather the clothes you’ve scattered across the studio. 
“Can you at least help me put my dick back inside my pants, these are my cleaner jeans!”
Snapping the elastic of your bra back on, pantied adjusted, you walk back to him. He’s looking at you with those stupid stars in his eyes and it makes it hard to focus on readjusting his jeans for him. 
Leaning down, you take in your hands his still wet cock, smothered in your spit and arousal, complete with his own release. You can’t help it when you dip further to take his head into your mouth, the groan coming from above you near automatic. 
“Oh, you’re evil.”
You grin as you wrap your mouth in a harsher suck, feeling him harden slowly, still quicker than you’d thought. Giving him a few more generous sucks, you run your tongue over his slit before moving back. 
He’s breathing heavily, leaning close as you pull his waistband up. “You know, they say you should lay down afterwards if you want to be successful. I think we might have to go again later on a real bed to do the trick.”
“You can stay horny, I’m getting dressed for some real food.” 
“I think we kinda need to be horny to do what we’re trying to do,” he lowtones, moving his face back and forth to meet your drifting eyes. 
You sigh once again, “Why can’t just getting off birth control be enough?”
“Are you not having fun?”
“I’m literally buttoning your pants for you, it was fun until now.”
Mingyu raises his hands in both surrender and pointed regard, the clay now dried and cracking over his hands and forearms. “I digress.”
 It annoys you that he’s right, so you lean in to give him a kiss as a distraction. It works. 
“It’s alright,” he smiles into your kiss. “This is the one thing I won’t mind breaking my back for.”
The giggle escapes you before you can help it, and you feel him kiss at your cheeks, placing one last one on the tip of your nose.
“Now, if my lovely wife will let me wash my hands…?”
“Go,” you chuckle.
“We should name our baby Salad Bowl in this honour.” He’s way at the handwash station by now, water running as he scrubs off all the dried up clay.
“So sad our baby will have to grow up without a father.”
 “I love you,” he yells. 
“I’ll be sure to tell our child.” 
“You’re insufferable,” he says, suddenly behind you as you pull on your blouse. Wet hands grasp your waist and you squeal at the feeling. 
“Mingyu!” 
“I love you,” he drags, spinning you around to face him. 
“I thought I was insufferable.”
Your husband groans, simply pulling you into him with his own two hands to kiss you. 
“I think we’re late for our reservation.”
“You’d better hurry then.” You eye his clay speckled shirt.
“Don’t miss me.” He turns around to find his cleaner shirt, all while you drift over to see the incomplete project still on his table.
A mug still clay-brown and half done, but one that looks suspiciously similar to your favourite one you broke last week. 
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ervotica · 1 year ago
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please don’t go, i love you so
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pairing: young!coriolanus snow x reader
warnings: a lil toxic!coriolanus, he’s rough with r, possessive talk, quite tame in this but imma tamp it up soon, a bit of making out and being lovey
note: i do not careee about who likes this character or who doesn’t okay i am writing about him because he is literally one of the hottest men i’ve ever seen, kay? i’m not here for moral dilemmas thank u, enjoy (yes i will follow up w smut and my young!coriolanus snow reqs are OPEN!) please please remember to comment and rb, it helps me so much!
hunger games masterlist
Coriolanus is possessive.
It sickens him to his very core, sends nausea rolling like a wave through his chest; he’s not a child. Yet, the mere sight - thought - of you engaging with any other man, even innocently, is enough to have him seeing red: white-knuckled, muscles drawn taut like a bowstring, ready to eliminate any and all threat standing between him and his girl.
It's the way those boys look at you. As if you're a piece of meat, a toy to play with that they're just begging, aching to sink their teeth into, to leave a permanent mark on. The boys in this district are barbaric- that's what Coryo thinks anyway. It's disgusting, the things that he knows they think about you.
It's been a long day in District Twelve. Coriolanus' grey jumpsuit rubs and itches and his skin crawls with an uneasiness settled at the pit of his stomach. It's a warm day, his skin sticky as he peels the top half of the jumpsuit from his slender arms and ties it neatly around his waist. The grass by the lake is damp with the leftover dew from the morning.
He catches sight of you amongst the trees, weaving and bobbing through the undergrowth as you do, your lithe fingers brushing against leaves. Your head dips and then raises as his tall figure creeps into your peripheral vision. A smile graces your features, real and earnest with all your teeth.
There’s a slight waver in your countenance when you catch Coriolanus’ own expression; his brows are knit, pushing his forehead into a crease, lips pushed together tersely.
You walk straight into his arms, balancing yourself on one leg and pushing your shoulder underneath his armpit. You needle your way in, your forehead rested against his chin, so close you can feel his breath against your face.
“Hi, gorgeous,” you murmur. You reach up to push out the ridge in his brow and your thumb traces the bridge of his nose in a way that couldn’t be perceived as anything other than unbridled affection. “Something wrong?”
His slender fingers settle against your waist. You shiver at the contact when he spins and pushes you back into a tree. The bark digs into your back as you shuffle to meet his eyes— his eyes that have suddenly clouded with something dark and possessive.
“What is it?” you ask again; your voice is becoming more strained the longer he stays quiet, your own hands snaking up his arms like vines and squeezing.
He shakes his head and drops his face to look at you properly.
“Nothing. I have you.”
“Okay.” You click your tongue, tilting your head at him. His face gravitates towards yours, breath hot and mixing with your own. “You gonna kiss me or what, handsome?”
He doesn’t need any encouragement, surging forward to catch your lips between his own; his hands are rough, kneading the soft flesh of your hip. His other makes its way up to your jaw, fingertips pressing so hard you’re sure he’s branding you. You’ve never been kissed like this, with such fervour and passion and need. You gasp into his mouth and your arm wraps around his neck to pull him further into you.
“Coryo,” you pant.
“Shh,” he forces out, his fingers suddenly an iron grip around your neck; the hollow of your throat is bared to him and bobs under his cruel touch.
“Coriolanus, that hurts,” you say, strangled. His eyes are alight with a fire, a blazing inferno roaring in his head as he squeezes your throat and laughs.
You wheeze, clutching at his wrist in an attempt to loosen his grip. He obliges you, running a thumb over the indents he’s left in your soft skin to smooth them away.
“You know I’d never hurt you, right?” he asks. His head drops to the juncture of your neck, arms hooking loosely around your middle as he relaxes into you. “I just wanted to feel you. To know you’re mine.”
The incident is forgotten as soon as it ends. He has a charm in that sort of way; you don’t see his faults even when he shows them to you clear as day. You’ll never see what’s right in front of you even if he wants you to.
“Of course I’m yours, Coryo. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“The way they all look at you here…” He falters. “Like they all want you. Like they want to take you away from me. You’re mine- they have to understand that.”
“No one could take me away from you,” you giggle, your temple resting against the tip of his shoulder so you can duck your head to meet his eyes. “I know where I belong. And that’s right here with you.”
“Good.” He mouths at your neck like a man starved, arms coming right up until they’re hooked just underneath your own. He pulls away heaving for breath.
“Wanna show me just where you belong?”
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no-144444 · 2 months ago
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Mark my words.- o.piastri
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summary: mark slips up about your marriage.
pairing: oscar piastri (no.81) x fem! rb!mechanic! wife! reader
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He crossed the finish line, and you couldn’t help the smile on your face. Sure, Checo had crashed in the last lap and Max had gotten p6. Not a good result, but then again, that’s what you had told Christian would happen if he didn’t let you build the car. 
You were Adrian’s protege. You were the next Newey. Christian was just too focused on the past. 
“Fuck!” he groaned, slamming his headset on the desk. 
“I told you so,” you sighed, leaving him at the desk and running to the parc fermé. Oscar would be coming through in mere minutes, and you wanted to be there to see him. Secretly dating another team’s driver wasn’t easy, but you two made it work. You were both lowkey about things, even though you’d been married for about a year now. You stood beside Nicole, far away from your own team, but you didn’t really care. You wanted to see the light in his eyes when he came up to his mum and you. 
Nicole wrapped her arms around you, cheering as you both relived the moment that Oscar had won. Oscar Piastri, 2 time Gran Prix winner. He’d proven himself time and time again, he wasn’t a second driver, and McLaren now had a difficult choice to make. 
But all that was for another day. Today was about Oscar. 
He ran over to the team, finally spotting his mum and you beside her. You could see from his eyes that he was smiling. She pulled him into a tight hug. 
“You did it!” she cheered, holding him close. “I’m so proud of you.”
He pulled off his helmet, smiling at her. “Thanks mum, love you loads,” he smiled, then turned his attention to you. “Not bad, eh?”
You smirked. “Not bad Piastri.”
“Not bad for you either, Piastri,” he smirked as you rolled your eyes. 
“Go get weighed idiot, I’ll catch you in the airport, yeah?”
“Wouldn’t miss you for the world,” he winked, then walked off to continue the celebrations. 
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You woke up the next morning, sore, with Oscar beside you. You groaned as you turned over, shutting off his alarm. “Osc,” you yawned. 
“Shush,” he whispered. “Five more minutes.”
“Oscar, we need to get up,” you reminded him, but he just tightened his grip on your waist. “Come on Osc, I need a shower.”
He smirked and you rolled your eyes, not missing his innuendo. “I could-”
“We did enough of that last night, give me time to recover,” you laughed. “Worth a shot,” he smiled. “Alright, I’ll start on some breakfast.”
He pressed his lips to yours in a sweet greeting (also short because his breath stinks in the morning) and you went your separate ways. This weekend was Singapore, and you knew how tough it was on every driver, engineer, and mechanic. Singapore was always the race you dreaded. It was unpredictable and hot. Way too hot. 
You came out of the shower to see Oscar pacing the kitchen, on the phone with a very stressed Mark. “No I understand that, but I thought they wouldn’t hear us… I-I didn’t mean to-“
“Oscar, it’s too late mate. You’d better just come out with it, or get your mum to, or something. People are getting really confused and they think Y/n is your sister or something,” Mark sighed
You burst out laughing, making Oscar laugh. 
“They think we’re siblings?” you laughed. “What the fuck?”
“You did call her ‘Piastri’ to be fair mate,” Mark chuckled.
“Well that is her second name!” he defended.
“Osc, just post our wedding photos or something,” you shrugged. “Or we could just let people speculate.”
“Sorry baby, but I don’t really love the idea of people thinking you’re one of my sisters,” he mocked, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer. 
You shrugged, grabbing a piece of toast he'd made you. “I don’t care, I’m just an insignificant engineer from RedBull.”
He rolled his eyes, a smile playing on his lips. “You’re so helpful,” he responded sarcastically.
“Using sarcasm as a defence mechanism because you don’t want to admit you’re the breadwinner of the family? How humble and noble of you,” you laughed, pressing a kiss to his cheek and squeezing his ass, making him jump. 
“I hate it when you do that,” he scoffed, batting your hand away. You knew he loved it. 
“Anyways, what’s our action plan lads?” Mark asked. 
“Up to you,” you shrugged. “I don’t care.”
“Will I post on twitter and act like it’s been common knowledge?” He suggested.
“Mate, no one would believe that. You’re known for keeping things secret and being nonchalant, just do that,” Mark laughed. 
“Sounds good to me,” you nodded. “Thanks Mark.”
“See you in Singapore,” he sighed and you grained as Oscar hung up the phone. 
“Fucking Singapore,” you groaned. 
“I know,” he nodded in agreement. “Hopefully this year I won’t be as ill.”
“Let’s fucking hope so,” you smoothed down his hair. “You need to start brushing your hair baby. It’s so awful in the mornings.”
His lips became a line and he nodded. “Humbling me isn’t always necessary,” he breathed out and wrapped his arms around you, grabbing your ass as he pressed kisses on your face and neck. “But it is appreciated,” he finished sarcastically, as you pushed him off giggling. 
“You’d appreciate it more if you took the advice,” you muttered, taking a bite of your toast. 
He shook his head, chuckling. “How’d I get so lucky?” he pressed a kiss to your cheek. 
You shrugged. “By using the dark arts?” you teased and he just laughed. 
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You walked into the Singapore paddock with Lando, deep in conversation about his upcoming birthday party. You usually weren’t photographed all that often in the paddock, and when you were, it’s usually because you were beside a driver or someone more important, mostly because you were known to ruin photos. Holding up your middle finger, threatening to flash the camera, etc, it’s what has made you a Gen Z favourite. You also refused to go up on the podium, no matter how many times Max asked. You were pretty low-key about everything, it worked well. 
“So I was definitely thinking a DJ, but what about the dress code? Should it be casual? Business casual? Black tie?” he questioned. 
You rolled your eyes. “Club attire Lando, it’s being held at a club, let people dress like they’re going to a club.”
He nodded, as if he’d never thought of that. “You’re a genius!”
“You’re a fucking idiot,” you sighed as he walked off to the McLaren motorhome. 
You walked off to the RedBull motorhome, noticing more cameras on you than normal. Most people just left you alone, it wasn’t often that the camera followed you (mostly because of your aforementioned behaviour), but tonight they wouldn’t let up. 
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Even as you sat in the pitlane, chatting to Daniel, you were still being recorded. 
“Do you know what this whole thing is about?” you asked Daniel and he looked at you like you were crazy. 
“Have you not seen what Mark posted?” he asked, his eyes wide. 
“What the fuck did he post?” you asked, rushing to get your phone out. 
And there it was. Mark had announced it for you. 
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aussiegrit
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tagged: oscarpiastri , reallyy/n
Liked by pierregasly, oscarpiastri, maxverstappen and 872,928 others
aussiegrit: These two crazy kids were too busy being in love (and winning races) to tell you guys that they’re married! Love you two xxx
comments
alexalbon: oh oscar’s going to go mad.
landonorris: marks time of death: now.
oscarpiastri: I WANTED TO POST FIRST
oscarpiastri: THIS SHIT IS UNFAIR. FUCK YOU MARK -> reallyy/n: someone will be sent to the stewards if you don't stop with the language...
pierregasly: it still freaks me out that they're MARRIED and 22 and 23. like wtf. -> kikagomez: 👀 -> pierregasly: ... -> user82: SHE CLOCKED YOU I FEAR
user93: I AM SO NORMAL ABOUT THIS (no i'm not.)
user22: THIS IS SO ADORABLE WTF
sebvettel: good memories! officiating was such a blast! -> user883: SEB OFFICIATED? -> user21: it makes sense, y/n has been super close with the schumachers and seb since she was a kid because of her dads job as a mechanic in f1. he worked for ferrari from the 1980s to around 2015. -> user02: LORE DROP?????
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“That dickhead!” you cursed. “I’m going to go find Osc, I’ll be right back.”
He nodded and sent you on your way. You had to tell Oscar, he definitely didn’t know yet, right? He was going to lose it at Mark, he wanted to be the one to post, he wan-
And you walked into someone. Someone wearing papaya. Oscar wearing papaya. Oscar. 
“Did you see?!” “Did you see?!”
You both chuckled, then remembered the situation. 
“I’ll kill him for you if you want?” you offered and he just smiled. 
“It had to come out somehow,” he shrugged. “Though, those aren’t the pictures I’d pick.” 
“We all know what pictures you’d pick,” Lando interjected, winking at you. Oscar elbowed him. “I meant your wedding pictures!” “Yeah, right,” you scoffed. “Anyway, we can call him later and kill him together. Sounds good?” 
He nodded, wrapping a hand around your waist, the other landing on your ass. “Sounds great.” 
He quickly pressed his lips to yours, feeling all of the cameras on him, but still not caring. “Love you.”
“Love you too,” you smiled before walking away, back to your conversation with Daniel. 
Mark was going to get murdered, that was just a fact. Mark your words.
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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)
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mv1simp · 30 days ago
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Vegas, Baby (I Wanna Ride) ♥️
Max Verstappen x Friend!Reader
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welcome to vegas baby, give me money, give me diamonds, give me rubies baby (get on your knees and beg me please to let you in me)
Tonight's a big night for the Redbull team in Las Vegas. Max Verstappen just won his 4th WDC, and you, his good friend, just won your first F2 race. After months of rising sexual tension, the line between you and Max starts blurring during a wild Vegas afterparty. Nothing beats crowning a 4th championship than passionate celebration sex, right?
Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, dom! Max, sub! Reader who’s playing mind games to seduce him, size kink, praise kink, cream pie, morally dubious relationship status but no cheating, drunk passionate sex with max post WDC is literally the epitome of my dreams
Max! The blonde Dutchman’s concentration shifts from one of the many post Las Vegas Grand Prix interviews he’s been coerced into to hear your familiar voice excitedly calling for him. His cute smile turns into an even more gorgeous grin as he spots you making a beeline across the media pen, long curls flying behind you. The cameras rapidly start stuttering as you practically leap into Max’s arms when he tightly hugs you back, lifting you up off the ground easily. Congratulations, Maxie! you gush excitedly, beaming up at him with genuine emotion. I’m so happy for you, you deserve this win so much!
Pink dusts the cheeks of the now 4 time world champion from your attention as he looks down at your shorter frame, his muscular arms snugly around your waist. You couldn’t care less about the sticky champagne drenching his suit, because your own RB suit is wet from your celebration of winning the F2 race earlier that day. You too, schatje, Max returns warmly, the paparazzi completely ignored. Winning your first race, in Las Vegas too, from P11? I’m so proud of you! Now you're blushing as he tousles your hair affectionately. You two are just good friends, of course, and Max is in a relationship with a model - even though it's a rather turbulent one. But the F1 gossip mill is always running rampant with rumours about your relationship with Max - especially with the overfamiliar touches you're both now leaving with lingering hands on each other.
The interviewers flock at the chance to interview the F1 and F2 champions together, who provide them with entertaining answers fueled by the 3rd G&T that Max has already started drinking from his Redbull bottle. You smirk and raise your own bottle to cheers against his, making Max’s icy blue eyes twinkle with amusement as he realises you’re very much on the same wavelength of starting celebrations early. Great minds think alike, right Maxie? you wink conspiratorially, making him laugh. The media reps are basically forgotten as the pair of you end up in your own conversation of excited yapping about adrenaline fueled moments from your races, littered with inside jokes lost to the viewers.
When his PR manager calls Max's name, trying to prevent anymore dubious scandals, the blonde looks apologetically towards you, promising that the two of you would have to celebrate properly tonight, okay? You nod eagerly as you watch him go for the rest of his media duties, your smile so wide that your cheeks almost hurt. You’re still buzzing with adrenaline of your own win, and know that your own manager won’t be happy with the pictures of you practically climbing Max to hug him, not an inch of space between you as he pulls you against him. After all, the tabloids love to speculate that there’s something more between the Redbull 3 time - now 4! - world champion and you, the rising talent in F2 with your Redbull Academy seat, and one of the very few women on the grid.
That’s how you and Max had met - on the Redbull practice circuit, the two of you the only ones wanting to practise in horrific conditions of rain and hail. He’d been curious to see another car with the familiar Bull logo out on the track, and then found himself even more curious when the helmet came off to reveal your cutely flushed face and pretty curls that fell down your back. You became fast friends, after you got along your initial awe of 3x WDC Max Verstappen casually giving you driving pointers. He was actually an incredibly humble and loyal friend, and you appreciated how much time he'd spent out of his busy schedule to help you. Meanwhile, Max found your conversation and humour so refreshing compared to other junior drivers who would suck up to him, and you were never afraid to give Max a piece of your mind with your fiery, passionate personality - similar to his. For the first time in months since he'd started dating his demanding girlfriend, who always told Max off for being too loud or making immature jokes, Max found himself genuinely relaxing and speaking freely.
So with all the time on the practise track, and then off the track when you moved to Monaco and began attending the same parties, padel games and hungover brunches with Max, it was no surprise the two of you had become good friends - with a lot of speculation from the public. Many of his fans and friends disliked his current relationship with the pretty model who constantly used Max's name for her own clout with little interest in his passion for racing and e-sim gaming. In comparison, the easy laughs and witty banter seen frequently between you and Max had many conspiring that you'd be a far better match for the F1 champion. Especially in today's Las Vegas interviews, where the growing electric chemistry was palpable to viewers even through the screen.
Of course, you'd never admit to anyone that you secretly agreed with all the gossip columns. You and Max were perfectly suited for each other - but you would never be able to tell him, especially as you didn't have the slightest idea if Max liked you back or even found you attractive since he was so outgoing and touchy with all his close friends. For the past couple of months you'd been secretly pining for him, eyeing his moody girlfriend jealously as she yanked him from celebrations to go home early. You'd starting catching yourself staring up at the gorgeous blonde with heart eyes when he'd patiently explain some new racing tactic to you. No guy could come close to Max in your mind, and you're becoming increasingly sexually frustrated as the object of your desires stayed out of your reach but you aren't hook up with anyone else. So much so that in the week before Las Vegas, you'd started having some very dirty dreams involving a tall, muscular, blonde ending training early and bending you over the hood of his car as he whispered accented Dutch in your ear. Gonna let me fuck you now, baby? You'll take all of my cock, just like I taught you, right?
You knew it was so, so wrong to secretly lust after your friend and teammate like this - especially since he was taken. But tonight, with the thrill of winning your first ever F2 race in frickin' Vegas of all places, at the same time as Max taking his 4th WDC...Well, let's just say you were feeling especially wild tonight. Taking another shot of gin as you got ready in your spacious hotel bathroom, you admire the sight of yourself in the mirror. You're lot more dressed up than usual, out of your racing suit for once . Smokey eyeshadow compliments your wide, doe eyes and long hair you’d blown out in loose curls, all to show off the main view of a tight, sparkly red minidress that pushed up your tits perfectly. You certainly looked the part of a winner out on a hunt for the best way to celebrate tonight, and your best friend agreed as she whistled when walking into the bathroom. Girl, goddamn, that dress looks insanely sexy on you! she gushed, making you shoot her a pleased smile. Trying to catch a certain someone’s attention tonight? she added with a teasing look. Don’t worry, Max won’t be able to keep his eyes off you!
You let out an embarrassed yelp and tell her to shut up, you were not into him like that! Used to your denials, your friend rolls her eyes fondly and tells you you’d been practically moaning his name when you’d been napping earlier, you little slut! She puts you out of your misery when your face goes as red as your dress by adding in that she’d heard his girlfriend wasn’t here tonight to celebrate - apparently, she was pissed he hadn’t flown her out on his private jet and he’d decided to take a break. Winking, she tells you that Max is all yours tonight! You shoo her away but your heart’s nervously skipping a beat with the news. Slipping on your impressive six inch stilettos with glittery straps circling around your legs, you make your way to the after party downstairs.
The bass is thumping, drinks easily flowing and the crowded hotel nightclub buzzing with energy tonight where many of the racing drivers and fans have come to celebrate tonight. You’d meant to go find Max when you got there, but are pulled into excited hugs by lots of your own friends and team members to congratulate you. Soon enough, a few hours have passed and you’re very pleasantly tipsy, giggling and twirling around on the dance floor with your girlfriends and quite a few guys who are running appreciative looks over your pretty figure. But when your wide doe eyes finally meet icy blue across the room, all other men are forgotten and you're making your way over in a heartbeat.
Schatje, Max greets you easily, interrupting the conversations people crowding around him were trying to start. You give him an adoring smile as you wrap your arms around those ridiculously wide shoulders of his when he pulls you into him. The alcohol you’ve both been drinking lowers your boundaries as you giggle into his ears you’ve been looking everywhere for him! He chuckles, telling you that he’d been right here, but you’d been too popular with everyone else tonight. Too busy for me now that you’re a F2 winner? he teases. You playfully push his broad chest, admiring how toned his muscles are under your freshly manicured palm. Maybe, you tease back. I only enjoy the company of drivers who are five time world champions, at least. Seen Lewis anywhere?
Max’s gorgeous blue eyes crinkle in amusement as he tips his head back to laugh, and you're staring up his thick neck, enjoying the sight of his angular jaw and plush lips with a cute freckle you wanted so desperately to kiss. Reminding yourself not to get too carried away until you had some idea how Max felt, you tugged at his biceps to indicate you wanted him to follow you. He easily took your hand in his, intertwining your fingers together as you pull him towards the second floor. This was a pretty frequent for you two, breaking off from a crowded party to yap and gossip about some drama or catch up without all eyes on you. Just as you reach the stairs, one of your team’s engineers calls out to you, giving you a tight embrace that lasts a few seconds too long to be a friendly congratulations. You don’t really notice though, too relaxed and happy, and gush your thank you’s to him as he compliments how well you drove today. He’s pretty cute, and you’re starting to get carried away in the conversation until a warm, large palm curls possessively around your curvy hips. A shiver runs up your spine as Max’s deep voice drawls out behind you that he was bored, can you two go upstairs now?
You immediately turn your focus back onto the attractive blonde, assuring him Of course, Maxie! Your arm wraps around his bicep to steady yourself as you two walk upstairs, your high heels clicking against the marble floor. Your abruptly forgotten engineer receives a rather smug smirk from Max. When you’re finally alone in a tiny powder room, small enough that you have to stand close together with the locked door but well lit by an illuminated mirror atop the counter, Max can’t resist a snarky that engineer seemed very into you.
You dismiss Max’s claims, telling him to stop joking around as you leaned into the mirror to repply your lip gloss. No, he was definitely checking you out, Max responds behind you. His already deep accent you’d always had a thing for turns even huskier. Can’t blame him though…you look fucking incredible tonight.
Desire curls in your gut as you gasp at his unexpected compliment, glancing to see Max’s blue eyes locked onto you through the mirror. The Dutchman’s gaze is sharp despite the tipsy flush on his cheeks as it wanders up your lush thighs, accentuated by your stilettos, over your juicy ass and hips before coming to meet your pretty eyes. There’s no denying the hungry expression he wears, especially as you slowly finish applying your lip gloss, drawing his attention to your tempting pink lips. He looks like a lion starving to sink his fangs into his next meal.
You swallow, suddenly feeling a little shy as you avoid his gaze, even though you'd dolled up tonight just for him. You should be saying something like that to your girlfriend, you say suddenly. Where is she, anyways? Max rolls his eyes at the reminder, unamused with the change of topic. Fuck knows, he says exasperatedly. I don’t care anymore, we’re taking a break. You turn to face him, raising an eyebrow as you coyly ask Just a break? What, she’s trying to find a billionaire because a F1 millionaire just isn’t cutting it?
Max chuckles at your not so subtle dig, knowing how you felt about his rather superficial girlfriend. But instead of letting it go, tonight you decide to continue and ask him why he was still with her? He shrugs, telling you it was just easier at this point to stay with her instead of the drama of a messy breakup, and dating hot but 2D models was what everyone expected of F1 drivers anyway.
You narrow your eyes, a little annoyed now, and step closer to Max to announce that’s stupid, since when did he do what others expect of him instead of what he wanted? Besides, he deserved a girlfriend who actually cared for him as a person, who celebrated each of his wins and losses, and on a night like tonight - well, he should be getting whatever he wanted from her, you added playfully. You’ve ended up so close that Max can feel the warmth of your soft tits pressed up against his chest, the heels you’re wearing helping your height. He can't resist admiring at the way your cleavage bounces every time you passionately speak.
Whatever I want, huh? Max murmurs lowly, his blue eyes dark with desire as he suddenly leans down, making your eyes widen and thick lashes flutter. His thumb softly brushes across your cheeks to press against your lower lip, parting your mouth slightly. He’s silent for a moment, choosing his next words carefully, and then - What if all I want is you?
You gasp, both with excitement and shock at the realisation that Max returned your feelings. A coy smile appears on your lips as you press your hands to his firm chest, leaning up to whisper into his ear that he was lucky, then, because you'd been looking for a way to congratulate him properly.
He grins wickedly as you return his hungry look, your normally sparkling eyes now sultry with desire. Oh yeah? he says lowly, large palms skimming your waist. And what were you thinking would be the proper way to say congratulations?
There’s no going back to friendship after this, the blurred line well and truly vanishing. Thank god, because you couldn’t take the sexual frustration any longer. You’d heard that the sex after winning in Vegas is really good…and since he’d ended up winning the championship, he deserved to fuck you long and hard, right?
Max’s breath hitches at your offer, his already semi erect cock hardening. Fuck, schatje, he breathes, his lips so close to yours they’re almost touching. That mouth of yours…I didn’t know it could be so dirty. Makes me want to ruin it. You smile with faux innocence, batting your lashes up at him. Why don’t you, Max? Ruin me, then.
That’s all it takes for his lips to lock into yours, a gentle first kiss between friends quickly turning into a sloppy, heated make out that has you drooling against him. Been wanting to do this forever, Max groans in between deep kisses. You giggle, asking him what his girlfriend would think of that. Who? Max says, looking genuinely confused as he leans in again to slide his tongue in to explore your mouth. Oh, the ex? You laugh into the kiss, knowing any other woman would be out of the picture by the time you’ve shown Max just how he deserved to be treated tonight.
Suddenly you’re being lifted up easily to sit on the marble counter, squealing at his impressive strength. He greedily presses against you, your lush thighs parting easily around his narrow waist. It’s a good thing the club’s bass is so loud, otherwise any passerbys would hear the wet, sensual moans of you passionately making out. Max’s bear paws of hands squeeze your thighs and plump ass firmly, making your minidress ride up so he could feel your dampening panties as you start grinding against his impressive bulge through his jeans. Fuck, schatje, you’re already this wet? Max breathes, blue eyes blown with desire when he pulls back for a second as you both pant. Only for you, Maxie you say adoringly, running manicured hands along his broad shoulders and into his soft, blonde locks. Whatever you want tonight, remember? So tell me, what would the world champion like next?
Max inhales sharply at your obedient words, at how you’re looking up at his darkened blue eyes with so much devotion. It fills him with an inexplicable need to have you all to himself, not just tonight but every night from now. You decide to give him a gentle nudge, guiding his large palms to cup your full breasts through your dress. You keep looking at my chest, Maxie. Do you want to see what’s underneath my dress? Max’s jaw drops open as you help his fingers tug down your neckline, letting it fall to your waist and leaving you half dressed in a lacy navy blue bra.
My favourite colour, Max says absentmindedly, too distracted with the heavenly vision in front of him. When you giggle and tell him you know, that’s why you wore it! he groans lowly, yanking the lace down so your full breasts lay exposed to his hungry gaze. So fucking pretty, he breathes, you look so good in my colours, schatje.
You can’t respond because you’re moaning again from his thick fingers squeezing your bouncing tits, circling your sensitive, hard nipples before latching his mouth over your areolas. Oh, Maxie! Mmm, feels so good! He hums with your tits inside his talented mouth, enjoying your sweet moans in his ears as he leaves a trail of hickeys over your chest and neck. You’re getting wetter by the second, and judging from the large, hard bulge you’re desperately humping, you’re certain Max is just as turned on as you are. But tonight’s about congratulating him, and you can’t get too distracted, tugging at the white t-shirt he’s wearing. Your turn!
Max smirks, and yanks his shirt off in half a second. Now you’re temporarily short circuiting at his broad pecs, ogling his thick upper arms and shoulders that taper down to his slim hips. You can’t resist tracing a path down his defined abs with your manicured fingers, making Max tease you with like what you see, schatje?
You shut him up as your hand comes to rest just above his belt buckle, brushing his blonde happy trail but going no further. Hmm, I’ve seen better, you tease back coyly. His jaw hardens as you come tantalisingly close to where he really wants to feel you. When he wraps his hand around yours to stop your games, you surprise him again when you bring your joined hands up to your lips. Curiosity piqued, he watched you intently as you press the pad of his pointer finger onto your swollen lips like he’d done earlier…and then part your lips to slide him inside till the knuckle. Oh, fucking hell, Max hisses lowly.
You don’t miss a beat, staring right into his eyes sultrily as you swirl your tongue around his thick finger, letting him imagine what else your drooling, wet mouth could do. He swallows when you release him with a pop, only to oh so innocently bat your lashes at him to say did he have anything bigger for you to lick?
Max has a hand tangled in your curls instantly, pushing your all too willing body down onto your knees as he swears, saying if he’d known you were going to be such a good girl for him he’d have fucked you months ago. You whine desperately, making him completely entranced as you press soft kisses to his clothed erection. He unbuckles himself for you, the small room silent except for the clinking of metal making both of you impatient. You gasp when his generously sized cock emerges from his Calvin Klein boxers, his pink tip resting right in front of you. He almost cums right there when you look up at him with those wide doe eyes, the very picture of innocence but your filthy words anything but. It-it’s so big, Maxie. Even larger than what I’d dreamed about.
And then you’re messily kissing up and down his engorged shaft, smearing your lipgloss all over as you pant and drool over his length. Oh my fucking god, Max groans, head slamming into the door behind him. That mouth of yours, baby- Jesus fucking Christ.
He’s rendereded speechless when you begin suckling on his hypersensitive tip, circling it with full concentration just like you’d done with his finger. You don’t break eye contact, pulling back slightly to pump his base with two hands and blow air over his angry, swollen cockhead. Tastes so good, Maxie. ‘M gonna worship your cock tonight, just like my world champion deserves. Your throat goes completely lax as you take his impressive length all the way to the base, gurgling and drooling messily as you hollow your cheeks to suck firmly.
Fuck! Jesus, schat, baby, I’m gonna - Max is panting heavily, cheeks adorably red and flushed as he tangles his large palms into your curls. Go-gonna fuck that insane mouth of yours now, okay?
You hum in agreement, sending vibrations running down his shaft. He doesn’t waste any time then, dragging your face forward and roughly thrusting himself into your wet, slack mouth. Loud, obscene sounds of the dirty blowjob you’re performing for him are filling the air, and there’s no doubt anyone listening in the hallway would be able to tell exactly what going on behind the door. But the both of you couldn’t care less, too far gone. And if your mindblowing deepthroat hadn’t been enough, you’re whimpering in between thrusts that he’s so big, you bet he could fuck your tits at the same time as your mouth-
He doesn’t even need to process that sexy mental image because you’re now using your free hands to cup your bouncing breasts and wrap them snugly around the base of his cock, his leaking tip still thrusting in and out of your mouth. Like this, see Maxie?
Max roars in approval at the filthy display, the warmth of your soft tits sending him over the edge. Gonna cum now, he pants breathlessly. Open your mouth for me, baby, you’ll swallow it all, right?
You follow his command immediately, desperately saying please, please Maxie, wanna taste you so bad, you can cum wherever you want-
He slaps his heavy cockhead against your chubby cheeks first, and then onto your pink tongue as you poke it out, collecting drops of precum from his angry red tip. He’s meanly chuckling as you go cross eyed from his cock whacking your face, squealing with excitement. Guess the only thing that shuts you up is my cock in your mouth.
You nod eagerly, panting with your lips wide open expectantly as you stare up at him, your pretty makeup completely destroyed from the messy blowjob. The sight of you so desperate for him is what tips him over, and with a silent moan he jerks himself off to flood your mouth with a generous, creamy load. So much that you struggle to swallow it, some of it leaking out the corners of your lips to drip onto your heaving tits. But you take most of it just like you promised him, licking your lips rather sluttily before opening your mouth to show him. See, Maxie? Drank it all for you.
He yanks you up off the floor, pressing your soft jiggling chest up against his hard pecs as he rewards you with a deep kiss. Did fucking amazing, sweetheart, he sighs into you. That was definitely the best head I’ve ever gotten. You flush from his compliment, sultry eyes turning shy now from his praise. But the Dutch Lion’s appetite isn’t satiated tonight. He pulls your dress back up, wiping away your smeared gloss and smudged mascara before redressing himself. But we aren’t finished just yet, schatje, he croons as he gently untangles your curls from your dangly earrings. You bite your lip, hanging onto his each word as he says After all, you’d won in Vegas too. He’ll have to show you how good the sex is, now.
Desire darkens your bright, dazed eyes at the thought of Max finally fucking you. You bury your face in his thick neck, wrapping your arms around him as you plead for him to please take you upstairs, you needed him so bad, you couldn’t take it anymore.
He chuckles at your cute begging, discreetly leading you down the hallway that’s thankfully empty while keeping you firmly pressed to his chest. As much as he’d wiped away the streaks of mascara, any of your friends would only have to take one look to know what you’d been upto. The ride up the discreet service elevator is another test of self restraint, the camera in the corner stopping the both of you from outright debauchery. But you can’t stop weakly grinding against Max’s muscular thigh that separates your plush legs, clinging onto him as he whispers dirty things in your ear with that Dutch voice you loved. Tell me what kind of naughty dreams you’ve been having about me, he demands. And of course, you oblige, turning his ears pink and voice huskier when he finds out just what you’d been secretly pining for.
He lifts you up, your legs straddling his waist easily when you finally reach your floor, an carried you down the hallway. After you’re clumsily swiping your room card with Max’s very distracting lips leaving kisses to your throat, you find yourself inside your dark hotel room at last. The Vegas city lights stream in from the floor to ceiling windows, illuminating Max’s handsome form as he looks down to drink in the pretty sight of you. Fucking finally, Max groans, ripping his shirt and pants off in one go and kicking his shoes to the side. He wraps an arm around your waist to pick you up again and gently toss you onto the king sized bed, making you giggle excitedly as you land with a bounce. And then he’s on top of you, eyes dark and a cocky smirk on his face as he presses his warm length against your soaked panties. See what you’ve done to me, schatje? I’m already hard again. Completely ruined me for anyone else with this perfect body. He finishes his sentence with a slow roll of his hips, making you moan breathily at the contact, with your panties so wet they’re practically stuck to you and you can feel all of him.
He unzips you out of your dress, leaving heated kisses all over your body as he admires the sight of your navy lingerie set, telling you he’d buy you ten more so you could wear them for him after every race when he fucked you. You keen at his attention, at the thought that Max wants you again and again, eyes teary as you start to try and grind your hips against him. You’ll have to be patient, schatje Max says in an amused tone, sounding much more in control than the moaning, dripping mess he’s turned you into. You teased me so much after all, it’s only fair that it’s my turn now, right? He kisses your ankles softly as he unties your strappy heels, letting them fall to the floor. And then, with a strong hand on each of your delicate ankles, he hungrily takes in the sight of your dripping pussy. Your tummy flutters almost nervously in anticipation of what’s coming.
Turns out Max, just like you, always held true to his promises. You’d had to be very patient as he had his turn of teasing you mercilessly, making you cum all over his thick fingers that stretched you out and skilled tongue that found your sensitive clit almost immediately. And when he’s finally ripping the condom packet open and slapping your core with his heavy cock, you’re practically crying.Your aching pussy finally gets what she needs when you’re stuffed impossibly full as he slides in to the hilt.
The sight of you completely ruined underneath him, tits bouncing with each powerful thrust he delivers, your nails burying into his strong arms to steady yourself, unlocks a carnal desire in Max. Whatever I want, right schatje? He hums, bending down so your sweaty foreheads touch, and you nod quickly through your deep pants. Even if I wanted to fuck you raw? You’ll let me cum inside your tight little pussy, hmm?
He knows he has you right where he wants as you squeeze down on him instinctively when you imagine him inside you with no protection. Ohmygod Maxie, yes, please, fuck your cum into me, please! The Dutchman’s outright filthy request has your head spinning with desire and you’re babbling half incoherently. Pulling out momentarily and making you whine, he yanks the condom off before sinking back into your creamy hole. You both moan in pure ecstasy at the euphoric feeling of skin to skin sex.
Max fucks you in multiple positions that night, passionately into the soft mattress, meanly up against the cold window, and roughly on the plush sofa chaise with your face buried in the cushions and your red asscheeks up in the air for him to slap. Next time I win you’ll let me fuck you here, too, okay baby? he demands as he fingers your winking back hole while still thrusting into your dripping cunny. You can only let out a high pitched whine, jiggling your hips back onto his cock in approval, too fucked out to respond with words at this point. And when he finally cums, his impressive stamina outlasting yours on his second orgasm, he makes sure to sink in deep and flood your heavenly walls with his thick white release. You give him an open mouthed lazy kiss as a silent thank you for the best fuck of your entire life, hoping he got the message.
You’re pretty certain he did, because the next morning you’re awoken by a heavy length pressed up against your ass. You’d both passed out in the (thankfully clean) spare second bed after running through the shower together for five minutes to clean up the sticky mess last night. The 4th championship celebration sex was definitely record breaking , Max murmurs into your ear playfully. But it’s not complete without the slow morning after sex. You’ll let me show you now, right schat?
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A/N: WAR IS OVER THE CHILDREN ARE OUT, BIRDS SINGING CAUSE MAX IS RIGHTFULLY 4 X WDC 😭😭😭 the way all the haters were silenced. Everyone’s trying ride his dick now including skysports I love to see it, as they should
Also guys 10 followers away from 2k?!? Wtaf 😳 I’m so sorry for the delayed post, thank you for being so patient. Work has been really busy this month but going on Xmas break in a couple weeks so will have more time to post!!!! Keep sending me ur saucy asks yall I love reading them <3
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katsu28 · 5 months ago
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maiden wins & secret meet-ups
pairing: oscar piastri x verstappen!reader
summary: cons of being in a secret relationship—oscar wins his first race, and you can't celebrate with him outright like you want to. (1.9k)
warnings: secret relationship, max’s younger sister but no descriptors of reader so imagine whomever you want!
a/n: oscar piastri grand prix winner sounds like music to my ears <3 better decisions definitely could've been made on mclaren’s end, but still over the moon for oscar!!! 
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You have mixed feelings as Oscar zooms past the checkered flag. 
Your brother is pissed. Max has been furious the entire race, at the car’s capabilities, at the team’s strategies, and more than likely at himself too. He’s hard on himself, but that’s the way you have to be to maintain a razor sharp edge like the one Max has.
You’re a little upset too, what with sibling solidarity and all, but you really have to fight the truly massive smile threatening to overtake your face as you watch the broadcast from Red Bull hospitality. 
It’s not everyday the guy you’ve been secretly seeing for the past five months—your boyfriend, as much as it still feels weird to say that—gets his maiden Formula One win. He’s worked hard, as everyone involved with all the teams has, but you’re biased.
Oscar’s win, although marked with some not so great strategy calls on McLaren’s end, even you could tell, is one for the books. 
You’re buzzing with barely contained excitement, even hours later, itching to find Oscar and pull him aside so you can give him the love he deserves for everything that happened today. 
It seems like Oscar’s thinking of you too, because your phone chimes with a text right then. 
Oscar: Hey, what’re you doing right now? 
You bite your lip to hide the giddy reaction you still get whenever Oscar texts you as you tap out a reply. Nothing. What’s up? 
Oscar: Behind the RB hub. Can you sneak out? 
You: Be right there <3
You look up, glancing around to see if anyone who’d go running straight to Max was around, and gladly coming up empty. You’re glad for it, because you’re not sure you could’ve stopped yourself from hightailing it towards the back exit of the motorhome even if you wanted to. You haven’t seen Oscar after the race yet. There hasn’t been a good time to sneak out and find him. 
Oscar’s pacing back and forth when you emerge, stopping only when he hears the soft click of the door closing behind you. For a moment, all you can do is stare at each other, unmoving.
You can’t help but look him up and down too, because you’re definitely not immune to how sexy your man looks post race.
Race suit tied off around his waist, showing off those snug black fireproofs that cling to his chest and arms just right, messy hair tucked into that special black OP1 cap—you’re not ashamed of your ogling. 
Then he smiles adorably, and now you’re grinning like a maniac too, letting out a gleeful, albeit quiet giggle as you close the gap and throw yourself into his arms. 
He catches you easily, arms winding around your waist as he hugs you tightly. You’ve got your cheek squished against the hard plane of his shoulder, and the zipper of his suit digs into your hip sharply, but you’re so happy for him, so happy that it doesn’t even matter. 
“I’m so proud of you, Osc,” You sigh contentedly. “I narrowly avoided cheering at the top of my lungs in the middle of the hub. Would not have been a good look for me, would it?” 
“Probably not, no,” Oscar laughs, setting you back down on your feet. His arms stay in their place around you, as do yours where they’re looped around his neck.
You take him in fully now, flicking the bill of his new cap playfully. “Nice hat.” 
“You think so?” You nod wholeheartedly and he swipes it off his head, blowing the previously champagne soaked confetti off of it before securing it on your head. It’s a bit sticky and even more sweaty, but the gesture itself makes you beam. Then he leans in to sniff it and makes a weird face. “Yeah, maybe I’ll just get you a new one.” 
“That'd be great, actually. I want you to keep this one to remember your first win—champagne, sweat, and all. But I’ll keep it as collateral until you cough up the clean one.” 
“Deal,” He replies, smiling fondly at you. “D’you have any dinner plans? If not, maybe we can order in, or find a nice restaurant?” 
“A nice restaurant?” You tease, walking your fingers up the sleeves of his fireproof. Muscles pull taut under your fingertips like cords as Oscar shivers at your touch. You’re grinning like the cat that’s got the cream now, always enjoying the reaction you can get out of him every single time, no matter where you are. “Are we celebrating something, or…?” 
Oscar shrugs nonchalantly. “We don’t have to. It could just be a casual dinner, if you want.” 
“Oscar Piastri, you need to learn to be more selfish. Of course we’re celebrating your first win,” You huff, smacking him on the chest lightly. His lips quirk up into a smile again. “You did amazing. Seriously. McLaren is beyond lucky to have you on the track for them.” 
“Thank you,” He murmurs, squeezing your hip tenderly. “It means a lot coming from you.”
You lean in to kiss him, finally, but then—
“Your—erm, your back pocket is buzzing,” Oscar says awkwardly, chin up as he averts his eyes to the sky. You groan, letting your forehead fall against his chest, fishing the offending device out of your pocket again to see your brother’s face filling the screen. 
Max is calling you. You love him to bits, but he always has the absolute worst timing. 
“Hi, Maxie. What’s up?” 
“Where are you?” He demands. 
“I’m great, thanks for asking. Yes, I did enjoy watching you race, thanks for asking,” You encourage, leaning back to shoot Oscar a look as if to say, can you believe this guy? 
“Right, yeah. Sorry. I appreciate you making the trip out to watch. Better?” 
“Much better.” 
“Good. So where are you?” 
“Uh…just getting some air, why?” 
“Outside?” 
“No, in your stinky driver’s room. Yes, I’m outside. Again, why?” You roll your eyes at Oscar, who merely chuckles silently. Max sighs loudly. Dramatically. “Are you alright, Max?” 
“Yeah, fine, fine. Are you free for dinner tonight before you fly back to London in the morning?” He sounds uncharacteristically hopeful, but still a little stiff, like he’s still pissed. He probably is still pissed. 
How are you supposed to tell Max you already have dinner plans with someone else when he knows for a fact you’re not close enough with anyone else in the paddock to get dinner with them, without letting him know who it is? 
The answer is you can’t. 
You look at Oscar hopelessly. 
It’s fine, he mouths, shaking his head. You get the message. He wants you to be there for your brother, even if it means missing out on spending some much overdue time with you. 
“Yes, of course. Anything for my darling big brother,” You say airily. You’ve always loved to push Max’s buttons. 
“You’re not funny, you know that?” Max deadpans. You can almost picture the flat look he’d be giving you if you were in front of him. But then he sounds a little happier when he adds, “I’m almost to the paddock. I’ll meet you outside the team hub as soon as I can.” 
Knowing Max, ‘as soon as I can’ gives you about five minutes to gather yourself. “Okay. I’ll see you soon then. Love you.” Max parrots the same back to you before hanging up. You look back up at your boyfriend, lips pressing into an apologetic smile. “I’m really sorry, Osc. He—you know how Max gets after a frustrating race, I—” 
“It’s alright. Really.” Oscar shakes his head, shrugging. “Family first. He needs you right now, I get it.” 
“We’ll celebrate your win with dinner as soon as we both get back to London, alright? I promise. Maybe I’ll even cook for you.” 
His eyebrows nearly fly into his hairline at that, and he tilts his head, letting out a thoughtful noise. “Maybe I should win more often if it means I get a home cooked meal for it.” 
“Maybe you should. Winning looks good on you anyways.” 
“Does it? I’m still trying to wrap my head around it, believe me. Feels good though, even if it wasn’t exactly smooth sailing.” 
“You did great,” You say firmly, punctuating the fact with a sharp nod. “Own it.”
Oscar blinks a few times, as if he’s digesting the compliment. “Thank you.” 
“Alright, you need to go before Max gets here, because he’ll probably try to fight you if he sees us together.” 
“Your brother likes me.” 
“We’ll talk about why that may or may not be true another time. For now, go.” You give his chest what’s meant to be one last tap before you go. 
Oscar, however, has a different idea. He grabs your hand as you move to pull away, tugging you back towards him and pressing his lips against yours, firm enough to knock the wind out of you, but not hard enough to bruise. 
You’re fully aware that you’re technically in public, where anyone could turn the corner to see the two of you wrapped up in your own little world together. Specifically, any Red Bull employee that would definitely rat you out to Max. It doesn’t really matter to you though, because all that’s running through your mind right now is Oscar, Oscar, Oscar—
He pulls back too soon for your liking, dotting a quick kiss to your cheek before stepping back. “Alright, I’ll be off then.” 
“Real funny, Piastri!” You call after him. He just shoots you a haphazard thumbs up behind his head, though you suspect if he turned around he’d be grinning like a little shit. 
“Don’t forget to hide that hat!” is all he says in response, and then he’s out of sight. 
You slip back into the motorhome through the door you came through, hiding Oscar’s hat until you get to where you’ve stored your bag and stuffing it in as best you can, before hurrying out to wait for Max out front. 
He materializes by your side only seconds after you’ve managed to make yourself a little more put together, startling you with his blunt words. 
“Why do you look like that?” He asks, squinting at you in confusion. 
“Wow, thanks. You look absolutely stunning today too.” You roll your eyes at him, to which he just raises a judgy brow. “Why do I look like what?”
“Like you’ve just been hit over the head with a frying pan.” 
At that moment, a flash of papaya catches your eye from over his shoulder—Oscar, walking off back towards the McLaren hub like he hadn’t just kissed the daylights out of you behind his competitor’s temporary sanctuary. If you look dazed, it’s all because of him. But you can’t exactly tell Max that. 
“Oh, um, I dunno. Just tired, maybe. Long day. Intense race.” 
Max blows out a sigh, slinging an arm around your shoulders and leaning on you heavily. “Tell me about it.”
You pat him on the back sympathetically. “Sorry for the way it turned out, Maxie. You’ll get the win next time.” 
“Yeah I know. But Oscar—he’s not that bad, as far as drivers go. What do you think?” 
What do you think of Oscar? 
You think he’s one of the best things to ever come into your life. You think he’s got the potential of becoming a World Champion one day. You think he’s truly something special, both as a driver, and to you. 
Instead, you shrug. “He’s pretty good. Don’t really know him all that well, but he seems like a solid guy.” 
You want Oscar to be your little secret for just a little longer, even if it means telling your brother a tiny white lie.
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boyfhee · 6 months ago
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﹙𝓲ssue﹚ㅤ:ㅤclingy boyfriendsㅤ...ㅤ( 엔하이픈 )
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ㅤㅤ﹙2189﹚ ㅤ장르 fluff fluff fluff, est. relㅤㅤwarnings a few kisses and pecksㅤㅤᐢᗜᐢ had sm fun writing this bc i love cuddles. happy reading ^^ please rb and give feedback, it helps a lot ^_^ iNDEX requested
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HEESEUNG
“hee, i need to go,” you whine, trying to get out of his arms but his grip only gets tighter around you as he keeps holding you against him, laying on top of you. he has always been clingy, but he’s especially clingier today— been holding you for the past thirty minutes and refusing to let go. 
you like this— on contrary to your words. it’s nice when he’s being this cute and clingy. you feel him press a few tender kisses on the base of your neck, something that always makes your heartbeat faster.
“i see,” is all he says, propping his chin up on your chest, pretending to think as he looks up at you. you mouth a quiet ‘please’ and he chuckles, burying his face in your chest again. “no,” 
and you groan again while he continues to hold onto you stubbornly. he holds you even closer when you try to resist, a sigh falling off your lips as you seem to give up. “lunch is not going to make itself,”
“lunch can wait,” the words are muffled against your chest but you can hear him smiling. it’s only a few seconds until he looks up at you, stealing a quick peck before shooting you a grin. “let me hold you for a little longer, darling,”
JONGSEONG
he said it would be just a few kisses but it has been quite a while since you’ve been on jay’s lap, and his arms only seem to wrap tighter around you. you lift your head up from his shoulder, looking at him with a slight pout. “how long are you going to keep this up?”
“dunno, sweetheart,” he whispers against your lips, tilting his head to the other side to go in for a few feathery kisses on your cheeks and lips before looking at you longingly. “can’t seem to get enough of your lips today,”
and the club room is not the most ideal place to kiss since a student— or worse, a teacher— could walk in anytime. usually he’s the responsible one, making sure you two don’t get caught during your sneaky kisses and meetups between classes. however today, his mind is far away from thinking about anyone else but you.
“your new chapstick—” he speaks between the kisses, fingers drawing soft circles on your back as he pulls you closer. “is it cherry?”
you nod, one hand on his chest while the other on the back of his neck. “yep, i got it yesterday,”
“forgive me for taking up a little more of your time,” he chuckles, leaning in and capturing your lips in another kiss. he kisses you for longer this time, a bit slower, savouring the taste of your chapstick and the feeling of your lips moving against his. he pulls away reluctantly and lowly chuckles under his breath. “gosh, i can never get enough of you.”
JAEYUN
“sorry for being too clingy, angel,” he whispers, nuzzling his face deeper into the crook of your neck as his arms tighten around your waist, pulling you closer. “you’re so warm, it’s nice,”
“you’re always like this,” you giggle, reaching out to brush his hair with your fingers. it’s always nice to have him spooning you as if no worries exist and it’s just you, him and your bed in this entire world.
you feel his lips trailing over the back of your neck down to your shoulders, planting soft and tender kisses in their wake. it doesn’t take you much to melt in his embrace— just a few kisses with his arms around you usually do the job.
“i hope you don’t mind it,” he says with a quiet laugh, turning you slightly towards him to look at your face. “you’re my sweetheart, the love of my life. i can barely spend an hour without you,”
and all you do is laugh at his words, a sound so melodious that it makes his smile grow wider. jake shifts a little, propping himself on his elbow before leaning in and smothering your face in kisses and whispering sweet nothings in between, his heart fluttering at the sound of your giggles. 
“watching you being clingy is my favourite thing in the world,” you manage to speak between his endless kisses and pecks, cupping his cheeks tenderly. 
the smile never leaves his lips, only growing wider as he presses his lips against your cheeks and gives you a few pecks before his lips are back onto yours. “you are my favourite thing in this world,”
SUNGHOON
“don’t you dare move,” you freeze at his words, surprise evident on your face. he doesn’t give you a chance to speak, pulling you closer with your back pressing up against his chest. “you’re not going anywhere,”
it’s new, almost rare for sunghoon to be this clingy. usually, he prefers you sitting next to him, arms linked or fingers intertwined, your head on his chest with his head on yours, kissing it every few seconds. but this— his arms basically engulfing you from behind and making it hard for you to focus on the movie with the way his chin rests on your shoulder, breath tickling against your neck— is usual, and you like it. 
“let me go get more popcorn,” you stifle your laugh, gazing at him from the corner of your eyes. you try your best to sound convincing, even though his arms only wrap tighter around you. “i’ll be back in a minute,”
“i said, no,” he tries to sound firm, although you chuckle at how cute he sounds and looks, his lips pressed together, brows furrowed. he catches you looking at him and narrows his eyes at you before shaking his head, kissing your forehead. “you’re not going anywhere until i say so, princess,”
you end up laughing, giving up on your request and relax in his arms, leaning back completely against his chest. “you’re so cute when you’re clingy,”
sunghoon only hums with his face against the crook of your neck. you can feel him leaving a few kisses there before he looks up, kissing the top of your head, whispering softly. “you feel too good in my arms for me to let you go,”
SUNOO
the silence and dim lights in your room almost lull you into sleep, the warm comforter only making the process easier before you hear sunoo whisper in the dead of the night, although not long after you’ve come to bed to sleep. “come closer,”
your stay quiet in your position for a few seconds before shifting closer to your boyfriend, arms slithering around his waist. “you okay?” 
and it’s not really rare for sunoo to ask you to sit or lay close to him. in fact, he would trade anything to cuddle with you and have you all nice and snug against him. although, the fact that he likes his own personal space while sleeping stands false for now, because he pulls you even closer, your body basically pressed up against him completely. 
he nods, burying his face in your hair while his hands trace up and down on your back, his soothing touch making you smile at the sensation. “i just want to hold you,”
your smile only grows wider at his words and you swear your can feel the thumping of your heart that paces as he starts leaving fluttering kisses on your cheeks. “you can hold me as much as you want,”
it only takes him a few seconds before he pulls you even closer, positioning you on top of him and enjoying the way your head rests on his chest. his hand continues to caress your back while the other fixes the comforter over you two. “this is better,”
JUNGWON
“baby,” you hear his voice as soon as he enters through the door, quickly shuffling out of his shoes and making his way to you before wrapping you in his arms. “gosh, i’ve missed you, my love,” 
it’s cute, especially the way he’s almost lifting you off your feet while hugging, having you on your tippy toes. a few seconds in and he’s swaying you left and right, mumbling something against your shoulder that you can’t quite catch. “you’re squeezing me, wonie,”
“can’t help it,” he gives a quick response, lifting his head up slightly to look at you. it’s quiet for a few moments, just him admiring you as if taking in your face and remembering every little detail about it. you smile simply at the lack of words, finding his expression utterly sweet before he continues. “i missed you so so much. so damn much, you have no idea.”
you giggle at his words, poking his nose gently with your index finger, his arms holding you by your waist. “i think i do. those voice messages everyday give me a slight idea,”
he can’t help but laugh sheepishly, looking away briefly. it’s true he spammed you with texts and voice notes, and they were about everything— the weather, what they had for breakfast, the poor joke some member made or the way a cloud looked like you— everything.
“i’m never going on tours again,” he whispers between the quick kisses he plants all over your face, your eyes squinting at the act, something that, according to him, makes you look even more adorable. “too much for my heart,”
NI-KI
riki positions himself on top of you, basically burying you under himself on the couch and engulfing you in his embrace. it’s warm and nice— you can barely breath, trying to wriggle your way out before he mumbles against your shoulders. “stop moving,”
“i can’t breathe, ‘ki,” you manage to muffle out, your arms encircling around his much larger frame. he knows you are going to slip out from under him if he moves, probably laying on top of him— which he loves just as much as this, but laying on top of you is way more fun.
“so spoiled,” he grunts from your neck, although not moving for another few seconds before he shifts slightly and switches to a position where you can breathe properly. “better?”
you huff when he calls you spoiled as if reminding him of the postion you two were in. riki had practically begged for cuddles while you were working on a project, saying he’ll help you with it later. although, you two are more likely to end up sleeping in each other’s arms than getting up to work on the project.
if laying on top of you was not enough, he nuzzles his face even further in your neck as if he isn’t already close enough. you squint your eyes at him, poking his cheeks with your finger. “you are spoiled,” 
“well push me off yourself if you have a problem,” he says with a scoff, raising an eyebrow up at your silence. he wonders if you’re contemplating in silence, but when your arms wrap around him a bit more tightly, making him chuckle as he leans down to press his cheeks against yours. “thought so,”
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cheriladycl01 · 8 months ago
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hey babe!
may I request AM!Seb X RB!driver!reader where she's like a female version of what he was when he drove for RB? Like, cocky, competitive and young, where she's basically him paying for his sins lmao
thanks <333
I see my reflection in your eyes - Sebastian Vettel x RedBullDriver! Reader
Plot: Cocky Young Red Bull Driver looks good when your in a team with Max Verstappen. She’s a menace on track and Sebastian feels as though he needs to put her in her place.
Warnings: SMUT. Car sex. Angst. Sexism (in the MS industry) etc. MINORS DNI 18+
A/N: Thank you for the request, my fav reader!
Credit to violetvettel for the GIF
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You and Max were exceptional team-mate since you'd been promoted to Red Bull in 2021 but you'd became more of a menace on track than when you were a part of AlphaTauri.
Even though it wasn't a championship winning car, every week you were driving it like one. In your season prior to your promotion. You hadn't finished outside the points, had no DNF's a few podiums and even a race win.
Horner came to you during the summer break proposing to switch you out for Albon. Of course you immediately agreed. Max was the same age as you so you were actually already pretty close, you were always found causing mayhem around the paddock despite being in different teams right now.
Obviously once you came into RedBull the car just suited your driving style so well, and you adapted much quicker than Pierre and Alex had and on your first race in 2021 you'd set pole position. You and Max had locked out the front row and you were buzzing with energy. This could be the year you win the constructors.
However, the first race was a shame in Bahrain, Lewis had collided with you into Turn 5. Lewis ended up winning, Max in P2 and Valtteri in P3. It was supposed to be your podium ... but it didn't matter too much.
The season wasn't just a Max and Lewis battle, but you were up there as well. A real challenge for Max and you were confident.
Who wouldn't be ... first female race winner in F1 and at one point in the season you were Championship Leader?
And Sebastian always was irked by this. Because you reminded him so much of himself in his RedBull days. He was cocky, arrogant and if he was being honest with himself a bit of a prick and he could see that with you.
He didn't know if it was the more you hung out with Max or if it was just the ego getting bigger and bigger but he remembered you as a sweet little rookie... freshly out of F2 and were nervous any time you got in the car.
But now he looked at you and all he could see what the smirk... that sexy sexy smirk.
But now you were sat in a drivers conference talking about the upcoming race and problems from the last one.
The last race was Monaco and you'd podiumed with Lando and Max and it was an incredible feeling. The three of you had spent the night partying in Monte Carlo casino and the pictures were in the tabloids the next day.
The next race was Azerbaijan and towards the last few laps it was you battling it out with Sebastian. Your car wasn't at peak performance as you hadn't done well in qually. But you managed to keep it up and came through with your second win of the season thus putting you up as current championship winner. Considering all the other podiums you'd had.
The feeling of stepping out the car was incredible. The fist pump in the air, your hair caked in champagne and sweat on the podium. It was an incredible feeling.
"So comments on those last few laps, Sebastian!" an interviewer asks.
"I mean it was ridiculous i don't understand how personalities weren't awarded ..." he frowns looking over at you smiling and giggling with Lando who was, along with Max a best friend of yours on the grid.
"Please elaborate!" he asks.
"Track limits, driving dangerously ... do i need to go on!" he laughs making you turn you head to him and scoff.
"I hope you aren't talking about me" you ask looking over at him and the other drivers go silent. You are now sat back with your arms crossed and a frown on your face as you look down at him in front of you.
"Of course I'm talking about you" he grits out and you just smile at him.
"Calm down, lets not get your panties in a twist!" you mumble so only Lando and Max either side of you can and they try to hide their laughs from you.
"What was that?" he asks twisting round fully to look at you now.
"Nothing, nothing. I think just don't comment on my driving abilities when I defended from you for the last 15 laps ... pretty well" you smirk looking down at him.
He just tuts turning back round making you shake your head and sigh as the interviewer looks to you to direct his next question.
"Y/N how does it feel as a woman to have all these world champions behind you after today?" he asks and you cock your head at him in surprise.
"Re-word that..." you smile at him, and he looks just as confused as you did.
"Sorry?" he asks and everyone around looks towards you.
"All you needed to ask was who it feels to have all these world champs behind me, my gender adds nothing to the question specifically ... if you wanted to ask me about my first race win as the only woman to win an F1 race ... that different" you smile and the interviewer coughs awkwardly at the same time as you PR manager shakes her head at you to stop.
"But to answer, i had the upgrades in the car. I was determined i had a good start and the race went my way today... and I think that's all that really matters..." you smile.
After the meeting, all it took was for you to be stood outside the McLaren hospitality next to Lando and Daniel, laughing with the pair of them for Sebastian to come forward looking at you with his hands on his hips.
"You, come with me!" he exclaims grabbing your wrist making you follow him.
"What the fuck! Seb, let me go!" you say as he pulls you out of the race track paddock entrance and to where his blacked out Aston Martin was.
"Let me go!" you tug on the tight grip on your wrist.
"Just stop! What happened to the sweet girl i first met here, you are ruthless, cocky and rude now! I don't like it!" he exclaims looking over you with a frown on his face.
"I've matured Seb, I'm not the same 21 year old i was when i first came here and first met you. Stop treating me like this little girl ... I'm done being nice and friendly ... i didn't get my way that way. Just deal with it!" you say throwing your hands up in exasperation.
"Matured, yeah right? You were arguing with me in there like a spoilt little brat!" he says, his eyes were so angry right now that you actually had to take a step back.
"Seb, deal with it!" you frown, stepping away and going to turn around.
"Get in the car Y/N!" he says opening the passenger side door.
"Why should i!" you ask not facing him to give him the satisfaction that you are fully listening to him.
"Because, I want to talk ... just us two!" he says his features fully softening, your brain was melting.
It couldn't work out if he was mocking you, or if he was genuinely being sweet. You stand there, now turned back around just watching his face as he stands there holding his passenger side door open.
"Argh fine!" you cry throwing your hands up. You were part of the Ferrari Driver Development Programme when you were 21 in F2 and Sebastian was a really important part of that development and the push you needed to get into F1. He was 31 and you saw him as a friendly mentor back then.
But the way he treated you, you'd developed a crush on him and you just knew it was wrong. A 10 year age gap that you knew the media would see as an abuse of power if anything was to ever happen between the two of you.
So you started to repress those feelings. You hung out more with Charles who joined you in your rookie season starting in 2018. Then when Lando joined there was more people your age on the grid. Even though Max was 26, he acted much older thanks to the early age he had started driving at which did lead you more to Charles and Lando. But where Charles was, Seb also was.
A few season's later and you were being promoted to Red Bull.
Seb drove you all the way to a quiet and coastal part of Baku, no-one was around.
"You embarrassed me today..." he sighs looking over at you as he pulled the handbrake up so you guys were stopped.
"Oh big whoop... all the other drivers do it and they don't get shit for it!" you complain crossing your arms over you chest and leaning back in the chair to get comfortable. You could tell you were going to be here for a while and you were in the middle of city you didn't know in a pretty quiet place and you didn't want to risk your chances of getting out and getting more lost.
"You've never done that before. Why today?" he asks looking over you.
"BECAUSE!" you shout spinning round to look at him, tears brimming in your eyes.
"I never ever thought you'd comment on my driving in a bad way when it wasn't ... that was my best race to date! I went from P12, all the way up to P1. I had to fight you for the last few laps and I was getting tired. I'm current championship leader and you didn't even acknowledge me on the podium or in the cool down room. You didn't say well done or congrats ... you didn't even look at me so how was i supposed to react when the first thing i can here about my performance from my old mentor is that it was dangerous. I shouldn't have the win and i should have had a penalty for defending from you? I worked my ass of for that P1 Seb and you know it, just because your getting old and the sport is changing so the grid isn't your fucking rich boys club anymore doesn't mean you get to see on me!" you scream the whole time, your throat scratchy once you take a breath and trying to get the tears under control.
"You think I'm old huh?" he asks and your gaze snaps over to him.
"Is that the only thing you got from that whole interaction?" you say with an exhausted sigh, from constantly fighting and you were getting to the point where you were so done.
"Well, you seem annoyed that this ... old man is giving you a run for you money!" he says and you look over at him.
"I'm leaving" you say going to open the door but he stops you.
"I'm sorry I'm sorry look I just ... it's hard getting used to all ... this!" he says looking you up and down, making you cock your head to the side.
"That doesn't give you the right to treat me the way you did today. You embarrassed me too" you say softly.
"Then, let me show you I'm sorry. Because I am" he sighs pushing some of your hair behind your ear.
"W- Seb what are you doing?" you ask looking at him. You eyes widened and he couldn't help but smile. You had these walls up for the past few years, creating this sharp and unapproachable look in your eyes, almost like a viscous cat, but now your eyes were wide and doe like, the way they used to be before Red Bull.
"I've waited too many years for this moment, and I know you have too" he smiles, coming closer to you leaning over the centre of the car.
"I- no i" you try say but a blush covers your face proving to him you really didn't.
"Just shut up" he laughs before pulling you in and kissing you. He tilted your head to the side to get closer to you, and you let him. This was a moment you'd dreamt of for far too long.
You pull back, taking your seat belt off and climbing over to the drivers side to straddle across him.
"If we're doing this ... It cant be a one time thing" you say holding both sides of his cheeks.
"You've always had all the power here sweetheart. It's your move, whatever we do. But I'll be here whatever that is. I promise you! I really care for you, I -" he smiles up at you and you nod. Looking over him once more before making your decision and pulling him back in for a kiss, his hands find there way to your hips pulling you down onto him a little more making you feel everything he had to offer.
"Seb, fuck you!" you laugh as you pull back.
"That was the plan" he smirks looking up at you.
"No, I don't think you've understood how long I've liked you for but we couldn't ... we shouldn't be doing this. If people found out" you said looking at him.
"I'm about to tell you something that doesn't leave this car. 2022 will be my last year driving. If you can wait for me, once I've retired this..." he gestures between the two of you. "Can be something more. But for now, our little secret?" he smiles and you nod feverishly.
Maybe you were still on the post win high, or Seb admitting he liked you as much as you did, not with words but you could just tell from the last 20 minute conversation, but you would do anything this man told you to do right now.
"I'll wait for you, but right now i need you Seb!" you breathed looking over him and his hands find their way up to the back of your neck and pulling you closer to him.
You hands are going anywhere they can, his neck, his biceps, his shoulders, his chest under his team top.
They ventured down starting to palm him through the joggers he'd worn to the track. Groans came out of his mouth that had your mind spinning at the thought that this was actually happening.
You were with Sebastian Vettel.
You couldn't even comprehend this right now.
His fingers found there way under the skirt you were wearing and into your underwear where he started to circle your clit. Your head immediately fell into his neck at the feeling trying to muffle your moans.
"Fuck Seb, please" you cry into his shoulder as you start to move your hips to get more friction.
"What sweetheart. You need to tell me what you want. Communication ... I know you aren't good at that but you gotta try for me babygirl" he says and if he wasn't making you feel like a melted puddle of water right now you would have slapped him for that comment, even though he was so right.
He enters too fingers starting at a slow place to open you up and gradually speeds up, meeting your pathetic bounces as he holds his free arm around your back.
"I need more, Seb i need you!" you say, reaching down into his loose pants to feel just how hard he'd gotten.
"Fuck baby, just like that!" he says, his hand comes down to the side of the seat to recline it a little seeing how cramped you were at the your back was close to hitting the horn. He leant fully back, taking his fingers out of you, a groan of complaint at the loss of feeling.
"Go on baby" he says, sucking his fingers off, cleaning what was there from you before reclining himself back onto the seat his arms behind his head as he waited for you.
You pulled down his joggers and pants, his dick having been straining against them the entire time.
You move yourself up, pulling your panties to the side your arms coming either side of his head on the chair as you sunk down onto him.
"Fuck" you breathed as the sting from the stretch had you biting your lip.
"You got this sweetheart, just a little more" he smiles, his arms coming down from behind his head to settle on your hips to help you lower yourself smoothly onto him.
He was on cloud nine right now, he'd always liked you and now having you here was like a treat he'd never had before but became addicted to on the first taste.
You clamped around him at the feeling which released a whiny groan from the man below you. Once you'd bottomed out, you sat there for a little, letting yourself adjust.
"Who knew, I'd win and this is my celebration" you joke looking down at him, and he just laughs back.
"I can tell you, my intention wasn't to have sex in my car with you, I just wanted to apologize. But i cant help myself when it comes to you" he groans as you start to move a little bit.
"I never thought-" you moan in between kisses with him. "I'd have this" you say as you start to move up and down a little quicker. He starts to help you moving you up and down on him with his hands but his hands were starting to shake from the sheer amount of pleasure he was experiencing.
"I don't ever want this to end" he says as he starts to run your clit, feeling himself get embarrassingly close as quickly as he was from how you were clenching around him.
"It doesn't have too!" you smile, pulling him into a kiss.
He starts to thrust up into you, his movements from his hands getting quicker as your bounces managed to keep up. Beauty of being an athlete and having insane stamina.
You both come to your highs at the same time, you fall onto him your head going into his neck and his arms wrap around you to hold you too him so you couldn't go anywhere.
He didn't want you to.
"So... am I still a rude prick?" you ask smiling at him.
"Yeah, but i guess we can say your my rude prick. I'll keep you in line don't worry" he smirks and his words made you nod and blush, before placing another light, yet sweet kiss on his lips, making him sigh happily.
Taglist:
@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount
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bokutone · 1 month ago
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˗ˏˋ MORNINGS WITH THEM ˎˊ˗
including: kita shinsuke, bokuto kōtarō, suna rintarō, kuroo tetsurō, iwaizumi hajime. genre/warnings: it's all fluff i think. a/n: i really want to start posting more things so pls feel welcome to drop suggestions on my asks hehe.
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kita — your mornings start before the sun shines, your body feels the movement beside you when kita decides it’s time to start the day. the feeling of emptiness on the bed is enough to wake you up and join him in the kitchen, a soft peck on the lips, and a quiet “morning” greet you every day. while the sun rises above the sky and the soft light enters the room, you can feel the warmth in your chest because looking at the man you love cooking for you while the birds sing their first songs is the best way to start your day. 
bokuto — the usually loud voice of bokuto is calmer in the mornings, whispering a good morning while he hugs you and keeps you warm between his (beefy) arms is comforting in many ways; those moments at the start of the day are irreplaceable. soft hums of discomfort rumble under your ear, and the way he holds you tighter when you try to get up makes you giggle every day, it’s a routine, no matter how many days pass, mornings are always the same lovely fight. 
suna — mornings are lazy, with neither of you wanting to leave the bed, it’s kind of hard to start the day, but you’re always the first one to move. you struggle to get up when his arms are around you, the words “it should be a crime to get up” sound every morning at 7:40 am. you have to fight to get him up, but when he’s finally on his feet, you get yourself a child. he follows you to the bathroom, then to the kitchen, standing there waiting for the daily morning kiss you give him when breakfast is ready, and it’s just after that when your favorite middle blocker wakes up. 
kuroo — mornings with him are never the same, on the weekdays he’s usually the first one to wake up. with his arms hugging your waist and his lips leaving soft pecks on your face you open your eyes to see his face first thing in the morning. but on the weekends it is the other way around, your hands caressing his face, your voice murmuring a quiet “morning” when it is already noon is the first thing he loves to hear. breakfast in bed and movies as background sound for your weekly gossip session is something you love to have, and every morning is different, even though you’re both the same. iwaizumi— your mornings are comforting, neither of you is much of a morning person and that’s more than perfect. with a battle of rock, paper, scissors you decide who’s the one in charge of breakfast. he lets you win every time just to see your smile, and you pretend to not know that because you enjoy seeing him shirtless in the kitchen (and who doesn’t?). between laughs and smiles, a few kisses are exchanged, a few i love you’s are muttered and lots of love is visible in the comfort of your home. and so your day begins, with iwaizumi hajime by your side.
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rbs and comments are really appreciated!
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gothlcsan · 5 months ago
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hii love ur work as always, can i req how zb1 would react to you not being able to walk the next morning after yk !!🫶
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oh you put thoughts into my head.. i hope you enjoy anon
warnings biting, pussy eating, overstimulation, dacryphilia, gym sex, kissing, teasing, bruises, fingering, cockwarming, sorry if i miss anything …
wc 1593⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀m.list ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ like/rb
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Sung Hanbin’s eyes stay on you with an amused smile on his face as he watches you try (and fail) to walk toward the bathroom that was connected to the bedroom. You turn to face him, your face scrunched up in annoyance as well as embarrassment, being unable to walk due to the night before. Your legs felt as heavy as lead pipes, waving him over to help you to the bathroom. Hanbin is quick on his feet (that only adds to your slight annoyance) helping you up by placing an arm around your back underneath your armpits to help lift you up from the floor. The walk itself to the bathroom felt like forever, sighing in relief as you sat on the toilet, leaning forward to place the top of your head against his stomach, using Hanbin’s body as a head rest.
“I hate you,” you grumbled, the pain in between your legs down to the sore bruises on your legs serving as a constant reminder. Hanbin does nothing but laugh a little, running a hand through your hair as he says you’re pretty, too proud of himself to deny being proud of causing your current state.
Kim Jiwoong uses the arm wrapped behind your shoulders to bring you into a kiss, his lips warm and soft against your own. The fingers of his free hand snake their way down to gently touch your swollen clit, causing you to jerk.
“It’s too sensitive,” you whined, burying your face into the small space of his arm and chest. He chuckled while moving your face to regain eye contact, moving it back down to try and touch the swollen bud. You jerk once again telling him it was too much, a cocky smirk on his lips as he asks why you were so sensitive down there. To which you whine and tell him that he knows exactly why. Jiwoong plays dumb, claiming he has no idea before asking you to enlighten him! You know you’ll get nowhere if you don’t play along, a blush erupting across your face as you explain how he made you cum too many times in a row and now you were incredibly sore and incapable of walking. His eyes are fixated on you which makes you nervous blushing more as he pins you down, a hand sneaking it’s way in between your legs, fingers brushing up against the swollen bud making your eyes roll back with a moan.
“Let’s stay in bed then.” Jiwoong states, your head is already too fuzzy to care much about anything else besides the feeling of his touch.
Zhang Hao kisses your cheeks, apologizing in between each one for immobilizing you.
“I didn’t think I went that hard, I'm sorry.”
He’s trying to be sincere with his apology but your scowl makes him laugh, it being too cute for him. You whine that he’s mean for leaving you unable to walk correctly and now laughing at your face, Hao explaining he truly didn’t mean to. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, lips quivering as you tried (and miserably failed) to hold back your tears.
At first Hao instantly begins to comfort you and apologizes again, growing quiet as you accidentally brush your hand against his growing erection. Silence fills out the room, looking up at Hao who is staring down at you with wide eyes, swallowing hard once he sees the tears staining your cheeks.
“I’m so sorry,” he begins to say but the way your eyes were shining wet with tears, he cups your face to pull you into a heated kiss.
“You look so pretty when you cry, you know?”
Whining you call him stupid, sighing as he pulls you into his lap, rutting against his bulge as he stares at your pretty stained face. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
Seok Matthew sets his weights down, walking across the gym to stand behind you, his hands grazing up your sides until they settle in the dips of your shoulders. You watch him through the mirror, tipping your head back until it rests lightly against his stomach.
“You need help?”
With a shake of your head you let out a small laugh as Matthew questions you again making you blush bringing up this morning.
“You sure? You needed help getting out of bed this morning.”
“Matthew!” Giving his arm a light slap, he bends over your body in a fit of laughter, his hands leaving their previous spot on your shoulders down in between your legs. His fingers dangerously brush up against your clothed pussy, the fabric being swallowed easily as he pushes the digits. Moans drip from your mouth from his skilled touch, tilting your head to the side to watch him work you via the mirror. His taunting words reminding you how hard he fucked you the night before he had to carry you out of bed to get to the gym makes you body arch beneath him. It doesn’t take long for you to beg him to take you there on your yoga mat, climbing off the bench to position yourself onto the ground.
You didn’t care about the outcome of this, your body aches melting into distant memories until a few hours from now, clinging to Matthew pathetically as he guides you on your trembling legs to the bedroom.
Kim Taerae kisses down your inner thighs, a smug smile on his face as he asks where you got the bruises from.
“You know where,” you tell him with a slightly annoyed undertone, your thighs jerking as he bites down into the soft skin in retaliation.
He was purposely teasing you, your body aching from a few hours ago, unable to walk properly without limping as well. Taerae rubs your clit with his fingers, your head rolling to the side as you breathlessly moan.
“You look so hot all bruised up like this, remember all of it?”
Sparking your memories of him bending you nearly in half and abusing your pussy, you grew wetter, much to Taerae’s amusement as he leaned forward and lapped his tongue over the slit of your pussy in response. Working his fingers alongside his tongue before kissing your clit, you grab the pillows behind your head, arching to gain more friction. Taerae’s lips leave your clit with a lewd yet pop, clenching around his fingers growing more insane with each passing second. It hurt to move, unable to suppress your pained noises which Taerae quickly turned to moans as he turned to finger fuck you as his tongue and lips worked together in harmony to abuse your clit.
It didn’t take long for you to cum, an embarrassed laugh coming from you as you looked down at Taerae, his face wet paired with that damn smile of his.
Ricky smirks watching you cling to the bed frame, legs shaking as you try to stand up. Falling back onto the bed with a pained groan, Ricky offers to help you, whipping your head around to glare at him.
“You did this in the first place.”
“I remember someone asking for me to go harder.”
Opening then shutting your mouth you face away from him, he wasn’t wrong about that but you didn’t want to admit that either. Feeling the bed shake as Ricky moves about, you feel a hand slip up from your neck to cup your cheek, trying to get you to face him.
“Look at me.”
Refusing at first, Ricky gives a dumbfounded chuckle before forcing you to face him. His eye contact was intense, you know that he loved keeping eye contact when playing with you like this. More so, you knew he loved watching as you struggled to maintain it as he fucked you mercilessly.
Cupping your jaw, he kisses you, tugging your bottom lip between his teeth before letting it free, your eyes widening from the few seconds of pain. It doesn’t take much for you to end up back underneath him, arms tightly crossed behind his neck, moaning loudly whilst maintaining eye contact as Ricky quickens his thrusts. Each time he reconnected with your thighs, a loud slap being hurt echoing from the room.
You knew you’d be unable to move even an inch after this, Ricky smiling at you, coaxing you to keep your eyes open as he pins you down for him to use so perfectly.
Gyuvin nuzzles into the crook of your neck, a whine coming from you asking him to stop moving so much. Your body was already insanely sore, Gyuvin having to help carry you to the bathroom and then back to bed. Having already faced the teasing from your boyfriend for being unable to walk, you wanted to settle down for a bit, Gyuvin not seeming to get the hint.
“Sorry,” he whispered, a clear smile on his face based on his tone.
He shifts again behind you, your nails digging into his bare thigh as you gasp, his dick pushing deeper into your already sensitive pussy. It was clear this was on purpose but he’d deny it, trying to look over your shoulder to glare at him, demanding he settle down. However, he doesn’t, instead he lifts your leg up and begins to thrust back into you. Gyuvin’s movements are fluid, your eyes scrunched up as you moaned loudly begging for him to continue. Your thoughts became cloudy, words slurred, quite literally going dumb on his dick, the pain in your legs being forgotten for now.
Gyuvin absolutely loves dumbing you down for him to use.
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aurorawritestoescape · 5 months ago
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BAD BLOOD part 6
Pairing: step uncle Joel Miller x f!reader x stepdad Tommy Miller
Summary: a month after Joel exposed your relationship with Tommy, the Miller brothers pay you a visit and your feelings come to the surface.
Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, fluff, angst, step-cest, big age gap (reader is 22, Joel and Tommy are in their late and mid-40s), dark!Joel, soft!Tommy with darkish vibes, edging, mfm, unprotected DVP, f!oral, ass slapping(2), handjob, multiple orgasms, creampies, cum eating, degradation, praise kink, daddy kink, fingering, swearing. Joel can pick up reader. The pics are for the mood only. Reader has no specific physical descriptions.
Word count: 8,2k
A/n: this is the final part of the main story so I’m very emotional about it. I love these menaces. There’s going to be an epilogue and I’ll probably do some extra stories for them bc I can’t see myself letting them go🥹 dedicating this part to my everything @milla-frenchy ❤️ Thank you for being with me every step of the way! Your support, your help, your love for the characters (mainly Joel *coughs*slut) mean the world to me. Love you sm, baby!!💖🫂😘 big hug to @romanarose for answering my dorm-related questions!🫂 I’m grateful to everyone who’s read the series, liked, commented, rb-ed, sent asks about it. I’ve been overwhelmed with your love and I’m sending you some back💕Love you all!!❤️ Hope you’ll like this part! Dividers by @saradika-graphics
Part 5 || SERIES MASTERLIST II Tommy’s Visit MASTERLIST
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“I’m off, babe!” your roommate Mel says when you meet her at the dorm on the way to your room. She’s carrying a big sports bag, ready to drive to her parents’ house for the weekend.
“Oh! Your dad’s here. He’s in our room,” she nods in the direction of your suit and adds with a playful smile, “he’s hot!”
You furrow your brows, blinking at her with confusion.
“Dad? But.. He lives in Europe.”
“Ehm…Maybe it’s your stepdad then? He said he was your daddy.”
‘Daddy’. Your jaw drops and your heart plummets into your stomach.
“You ok?” Mel places her hand on your shoulder, with a worried expression. “You look… shook.”
“No, I’m fine… just surprised.”
You wave her goodbye with a strained smile and your weak legs carry you to your dorm room.
Your mind is racing and every step seems to last an eternity. You can’t believe he’s here. A mixture of guilt, fear and excitement fills your chest. What are you going to tell him?
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You haven’t talked to Tommy in more than a month, scared to face him, to admit that you had ruined his life because of your desire. You hoped that he realized that Joel was the real villain of the story but you couldn’t deny that all that mess had started with you. After that horrible day, your mom flooded your phone with hateful messages, calling you a slut, a whore and a homewrecker. You didn’t pick up her calls which were rare. Apparently she didn’t want to hear your voice, just like you didn’t want to hear hers. Indifference filled your heart. You had already hated her for years, your relationship ruined long before you slept with her husband.
And Tommy…You couldn’t bear to hear him breaking up whatever thing you two had so you just blocked him. His hate would be too much for you. You had never felt anything like that before and you wanted to save those moments together untainted by his resentment.
You did the same with Joel’s number. But you pressed ‘block caller’ only after you phoned him and cursed the fucker out. How did he dare to drop a nuclear bomb on your life like that? Deep in your heart you knew that he had overplayed you in your own game and your pride was hurt. What made matters worse was your sickening yet undeniable desire for the bastard.
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When you come up to your room, you see that the door is slightly ajar. He really is here. After taking a deep breath, you step into the room and find Tommy, sitting on your bed, elbows planted on his knees, your exercise book in his hands. He’s wearing a black shirt with a white tank top underneath and a pair of dark jeans. Your pussy tingles just from a sight of him, his big body, soft curls, but you drive away these thoughts, trying to concentrate on the goal that you set on the way here - to get him back.
Your stepdad raises his eyes to you. Is it a trace of smile on his lips? What if he doesn’t hate you after all? A slither of hope gives you much needed courage and you take a few steps towards him.
“Hey. What are you doing here?”
Your voice is small and shaky and you hate it but it’s stupid to deny your overwhelming feelings for him.
Tommy gives you a little smile and throws your book back on your desk, next to your bed.
“I wanted to see you. We need to talk.”
“Yes, daddy,” you agree, biting your lip and batting your eyelashes at your stepdad.
“I didn’t think you’d call me that after blocking me.”
“I’m sorry, but… I was scared. I thought you hated me. But it’s not my fault. I had feelings for you and Joel used it. He ruined your life. I’d never do it.”
Tommy drops his head, rubbing his hands, and hums. You start seeing red as soon as your step uncle's name leaves your lips and your anger spills out.
“That fucker secretly took the photo and sent it to our fucking family chat?! Who the fuck does that? Is he insane?”
Tommy looks up at you and then his gaze slides to the side, somewhere behind you, before he says,
“You can ask him yourself, sweetheart.”
For a second time your heart jumps in your chest, when a pair of strong arms grabs you from behind and you sense a broad chest pressed tightly to your back. Startled, you are about to scream, but a huge hand claps over your mouth.
“Surprise, angel,” Joel gruffs in your ear while his arm squeezes your waist. You thrust and shake but all your attempts to break free are fruitless against his strength.
“Keep wriggling, baby, I love feeling your ass, grinding against my dick.”
He hums and pushes his hips into you. You sense his huge bulge and your pussy tingles when you remember what he can do with this cock. Joel’s scent envelops you just like his body and you gush. Yet your hatred for the man overpowers your desire and you keep thrashing in his steel embrace. Your nostrils flare, and searching for help, your pleading eyes dart to Tommy.
To your surprise your stepdad doesn’t rush to help you— he sits up straighter and spreads his thighs wider, while his darkening eyes are sliding up and down your bound body, powerless in Joel’s arms.
You whine, realizing that he’s enjoying it, the view is turning him on. You’re getting worked up as well, feeling yourself small and helpless, fully at the mercy of the two men.
Joel’s arm, wrapped over your arms and under your chest, pushes your breasts up and they almost spill out of your neckline. You can feel your step uncle’s breath on your cleavage, and he’s groaning, probably enjoying the view of your tits. A new surge of arousal makes you press your thighs together. Are they gonna fuck you in your dorm room like it’s some raunchy porn? You really hope so.
Not being able to hide your desire any longer, you make a loud moan, muffled by the hand covering your mouth, but it still electrifies the air in the room, and both men grunt.
As much as you love Joel’s strong back and huge bulge pressed against you, scorching anger rises from the pits of your stomach again, and you try to push him off yourself. Tommy’s watching your weak attempts for a few seconds before taking pity on you.
“Let her talk, Joel.”
The older brother puts his hand away and you exclaim, wriggling in Joel’s arms, trying to break free.
“Let go of me, perv!”
"You had this perv's cock in your mouth and your ass not so long ago," he reminds you, not easing his grip.
"I'm not fucking proud!"
"You should be, angel. You took it like a champ both times."
He emphasizes his words with a thrust of his hips and you growl, trying to hide your arousal.
“Daddy, what the fuck? Why’s he here? Why didn’t you tell him to fuck off?”
Joel tightens his python-like embrace and gruffs in your ear,
“Blood is thicker than water, angel. But you and your “mummy didn’t let me host a party and now Ima fuck her husband” will never understand that.”
“It’s not…you know nothing about me, you asshole.” Your voice strains as the rage suddenly mixes with deep sadness. Trying not to burst into tears you grit your teeth as you explain,
“She ruined my whole life, drove my dad away. She cheated on him and now he’s not even talking to me, just sends money for college. It’s all because of that slut.”
Tommy drops his head and you know that he's feeling sorry for you right now. Your pride pangs but a ray of hope dries your upcoming tears - he cares, he still cares about you.
Joel on the other hand is not sympathetic in the slightest, commenting with a chuckle, "Damn, angel, you're a textbook example of daddy issues.
Not saying we ain't happy, right, brother?" He looks at Tommy and adds, "it got our dicks wet."
You begin thrashing harder and exclaim, “Fuck you!”
“Yeah, you will.”
“Let go of her, Joel,” Tommy commands, steel in his voice, and to your surprise, Joel follows his brother's order immediately.
You hurry away from your step uncle and stand closer to Tommy.
Your eyes dart between the men, as you’re fixing your bunched up clothes, panting heavily after trying to get free.
Joel grabs your chair, plops down and places his booted foot on the edge of your desk with a thud.
You’re glaring at him, trying to convey all disgust and hatred for the man with your expression, but Tommy sighs and your gaze darts to him.
“Daddy,” you whisper, taking a shy step in his direction.
His eyes freeze your heart. He looks serious, too serious for your liking.
Tommy leans on his knees again and starts talking, eyes moving between you and Joel.
“Joel is an asshole, sweetheart, you’re right. But what’s new? I’ve known him all my life and I understand what he’s capable of. Yes, he ruined my marriage but to be honest…I’m glad.”
Your jaw drops as you’re staring at your stepdad, and he continues,
“Life with Jess was suffocating me. I thought I needed to settle down, to start a family but I was wrong. I was happy in Austin. And she…fuck,” he shakes his head with a sigh, “She’s a lot. You’re the best person to know it.”
His eyes set on you and you see a genuine regret and sadness in them. You want to reach for him, hug him, kiss him but he needs you to listen. So you listen.
“In an absolutely horrible way, yes, but Joel helped me to get out of it. I’m gonna lose a lot of money in the settlement but it’s just money.”
“Shoulda got a prenup like I told you,” Joel mumbles.
The longer Tommy speaks, the more you can’t believe what you’re hearing.
“Wait! So now he’s your savior, huh? He manipulates you, Tommy! He says what you want to hear and then stabs you in the back!”
“Baby, the only thing I did behind your back is come in your ass,” Joel smirks and then points his thick finger at you, “And not you talking about fuckin’ loyalty! We had a deal but you weren’t gonna do shit with that recording! I saw your fuckin’ heart eyes. You’d never do it to your precious daddy so I had to do it my way. And it needed to be done!”
You narrow your eyes and clench your fists, barely holding yourself from hitting the man, as you exclaim,
“You sent the pic of me fucking my stepdad to my family group chat, you fucker! My nana’s there! She almost died after seeing that photo!
All you get from your step uncle is another bark of a laugh.
“Who gives a shit? She’s ancient.”
“You motherfuckin’…” you’re about to launch at the men but Tommy rushes up and steps between you and his older brother.
“Stop!” His hands are on your shoulders, his eyes kind and warm. “Calm down, sweetheart. Please.”
You take a deep breath and inch closer to him and Tommy doesn't push you away. He hugs you, pulling you closer to him, and rubs your back with his big hands. You immediately melt in his warm embrace with your cheek pressed to his chest, your arms wrapped around his waist. You bite your lip and squeeze your eyes shut, fighting back tears as a mix of strong emotions- hate, love, desire, rage, fills your heart and you take a deep breath, wishing to find comfort and peace in your stepdad's arms.
You open your eyes and see Joel watching you two, his gaze piercing, expression pensive. You’d give a lot to know what he’s thinking about at the moment. Probably scheming again.
You turn your face away from him and press your cheek to Tommy’s chest.
Suddenly he pulls away and looks down at you, head tilted.
“You hurt me, baby. I needed you, and you left. Even blocked my number.”
You swallow loudly, shifting on your feet, as fear is rising in your chest again. With your eyes downcast, you mumble, “I’m sorry.”
“Are you really?”
“Yes, daddy.”
“Are you willing to show us how sorry you are?” He sits back on the bed, manspreading, his gaze dark, intense.
“To you? Yes. But not to him!”
“Sweetheart.” His warning tone binds your pride and you stop fighting what you really want. What your pussy wants.
“Ok, daddy.”
A corner of Tommy’s mouth curves up a little and he says,
“Good girl. Take your clothes off.”
Joel groans and slightly shifts in his chair, making it squeak. You glance at him but your eyes return to Tommy.
You start discarding your clothes piece by piece, gaze locked with your stepdad and he drinks in every exposed part of your body. Your panties fall on the floor last and you step out of them.
Now you’re standing in your dorm room completely naked in a company of the two fully clothed older men. You’re already dripping, the wetness between your thighs is evident just to you for now but you desperately wish for them to discover it.
“We’ve talked enough about Joel. Let’s talk about you, babygirl.”
You feel your stomach twist, nervous about what he might say.
"Have you fucked anyone since you left?" Tommy asks, his expression serious.
"No."
Your stepdad's eyes are darting between yours, searching for any sign of you lying.
"Has anyone fucked you?"
You hate that he doesn't trust you but it's hard to blame him —he knows better than anyone how thirsty you're.
"No, daddy. I promise. I've... only been making myself come, thinking of you. All this time.”
You bite your lower lip and purr, "been imagining you fucking me. Your kisses. Your hands on me. Your cock in my mouth."
Tommy's chest expands and he squirms on the bed. You clasp your hands in front yourself and drop your head down, telling him the truth,
"I've missed you. Still miss you."
"Aww, how sweet," Joel mocks you with a laugh.
Tommy frowns at him and you shoot a fiery glance at the older brother for ruining the moment.
“What about your favourite uncle, angel? Have you fantasized about me?”
"No," you reply without hesitation through the gritted teeth.
"Don't lie," Tommy commands, his tone cold and demanding.
You avert your gaze from them both and look in front of yourself.
"Yes," you admit as your voice is barely audible,
"yes, I did."
Joel's smug grin is noticeable even from your peripheral vision.
"What was it about? Your fantasies?” Tommy asks.
"You both fucking my pussy."
"Damn, angel," Joel groans, palming himself.
“I know my pussy is off limits to Joel. I’m sorry for thinking about it, daddy.”
“It’s ok, sweetheart. You’re allowed to imagine whatever you want.”
You inch closer to Tommy and his eyes slide down from your face to your breasts and then to your wet pussy.
Your stepdad licks his lower lip and a memory of him making you come on his tongue in the darkness of your bedroom overflows the glass of your desire and you kneel slowly between his legs.
“Sweetheart,” Tommy breathes out in surprise but spreads his legs wider for you.
“She remembers well where she belongs,” Joel comments as you feel his hungry gaze on your naked back and ass.
You place your palms on Tommy’s jean-clad thighs and sit on your heels, batting your lashes, before you lower your head to his crotch. You press your cheek to his huge warm bulge and whisper, “let me suck your cock, daddy. I want to apologize.”
Tommy takes a sharp breath and Joel whistles. You feel cold air on your naked pussy and squeeze your thighs together to relieve the ache in your needy center.
Then you nuzzle the stiff lump under his jeans and rub your nose and cheek over it. It twitches against you and a moan escapes your lips. Tommy bucks his hips against your head but then his hand on your cheek stops you.
“We have something else in mind for you, babygirl. You can’t deny that you deserve a punishment, right?”
You drop your eyes in agreement and Tommy continues.
“Your step uncle promised you something that morning when we ehm… had breakfast together.”
You hear the squeak of your chair and then Joel’s heavy steps. The older brother stands next to you two and you lift your head to look at him.
He’s looming over your body, tall and broad and your pussy throbs harder as your eyes involuntarily slide down from his handsome smug face to his broad chest and then huge bulge.
“Get your ass on the bed so I could eat your slutty pussy.”
You scream internally, keeping a straight face, and ask,
“Are you that bad that it’s considered a punishment?”
Joel shifts his jaw and gruffs,
“Let’s hope I won’t bite your clit off, brat.”
You wince and Tommy curses under his breath. Then he pulls you up from your knees and gets up too. You’re standing between the two men, burning up with desire to be used and Tommy doesn’t help you to calm down, when he starts taking off his shirt, leaving only his white tank top on and exposing his thick muscular arms. When you glance back you notice Joel is doing the same, and you softly moan at the sight of his broad torso in a mesh top.
“Moaning like a whore already,” Joel mocks you, stepping up to you and pressing his body to your back and ass.
You gasp but don’t pull away. His hands on your hips slide up and down, until he brings one palm to your pussy and gives your mound a light slap.
“Joel,” you whimper as it sends a wave of arousal through your body.
“You’ve been a bad girl, sweetheart,” Tommy chides you, stepping in front of you.
“Worse than usual?” You purr, biting your lip.
With Joel’s at your back, Tommy presses his hips to yours, sandwiching you between the two brothers and your pussy cries for them so much that you feel your slick run down your inner thigh.
With Joel’s arms wrapped around your torso, Tommy locks eyes with you and you reach for his lips but he immediately pulls away, takes your hand and leads you to the bed.
He sits down, leaning his back on the headboard and pats the place between his legs.
“Get in here, babygirl.”
You want to sit on your knees but suddenly Joel roughly turns you around and pushes you to plop between Tommys legs.
Your stepdad pulls you to lean against his warm chest before Joel kneels on the floor.
“Oh wow, big bad Joel Miller on his knees for me? Not the first time though,” you gloat and Joel grinds his teeth and roughly pulls your hips to the edge of the bed. You gasp as your head slides down Tommy’s chest and your naked breasts jiggle. Joel’s thick fingers dig into your skin as he throws your legs over his shoulders, and your pussy blooms for him. His dark eyes get obsidian with lust, as he glides his palms up and down your thighs.
“Fuck, ya seeing it, Tommy? She wasn’t lying about not fucking. This pussy is desperate for cock. ‘m afraid I’m gonna choke on all this slick,” he comments, not tearing his eyes from your needy cunt.
“I’ll be ok with this outcome,” you grunt as your clit twitches with anticipation.
Joel looks up at you with a sneer and then leans down to your mound. You hold your breath, expecting him to finally start eating you out but his lips land on your inner thigh instead of your waiting cunt. He kisses your skin there and you squirm in Tommy’s arms as Joel’s facial hair tickles you. He gets lower, peppering kisses along your inner thigh, moving closer to your center and you buck your hips to meet him halfway and to finally shove your pussy in his face, but Joel places his big palm on your lower belly and pushes your back on the bed. You hear Tommy’s voice over your head,
“Don’t move, honey. Promise to be a good girl for us, ok?”
“Yes, daddy,” you breathe out and tilt your head up and to the side to look up at him. He’s giving you a warm smile, its effect spreads warmth deep in your belly, but soon it turns into a scorching fire, when Joel’s lips finally latch onto your aching pussy. You gasp and turn to him and the sight almost makes you come. Joel fucking Miller, your asshole step uncle, a mean, selfish, arrogant prick, is on his knees for you, feasting on your wet cunt, lips smacking, tongue gathering all the wetness between your folds.
Already feeling like you’re in heaven, you moan loudly, not caring who might hear and catch you getting a head from your step uncle, while your stepdad’s hands are kneading your breasts and twitching your hard nipples.
“You love it, sweetheart?” Tommy whispers in your ear, as you’re fluttering your eyes shut with pleasure, when Joel’s skillful tongue flicks your throbbing clit and then he sucks it into his mouth.
“Yes—yes—yes,” you chant, almost tasting the climax on your tongue. But a second away from the explosion, Joel parts from your puffy cunt and presses his wet lips to your inner thigh again, kissing and nibbling on it lightly.
“No, Joel, my pussy,” you desperately whine.
“What is it, angel?”
“Make me come, please.”
“Good start but you can do better,” he mumbles while he’s watching his fingers trace your sopping hole. It’s hot but not enough to push you over the precipice.
You grit your teeth but your pride is quickly drowning in the sticky pit of desire.
“Joel, please, please make me come on your tongue. Please, I need it,” you beg and his smile is triumphant and content.
“I’ll do anything for my little niece.”
His mouth returns to your pussy and he grabs your thighs tighter as his tongue swirls your clit around and then slides down to your leaking hole.
“Fuck,” you hear Tommy curse and you feel his stiff cock under your back, he must be so turned on by this.
The older brother starts fucking you with his hot muscle and your hand slithers down to rub your puffy clit but Tommy grabs your wrists and pulls your hands up to your chest, crosses them and keeps them there with his one strong hand.
“Daddy, I wanna come,” you beg the moment Joel’s mouth leaves your pussy again and again whenever you feel so close to ecstasy.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but bad girls don’t get to come so fast,” Tommy smirks and his fingers tighten around your wrists.
You feel tears well up in your eyes, your breaths heavy, belly and chest heaving and your whole body is vibrating in frustration.
“Joel,” you sob and your step uncle lifts his head, his lips, mustache and beard glistening with your juices.
“I’ll give the candy to you, slut. But only if you tell me why you love your uncle Joel so much.”
“What?”
“You heard me, baby.” Joel’s lips are so close but, at the same time so far from where you need him. You curse and whine, grinding your teeth while anger is taking over you again.
Joel hurries you by planting a feather light kiss on your clit and your whole body jerks from a bolt of pleasure but it quickly dissipates, leaving you desperately needing more.
So you cave in.
"You're hot, Joel."
"Yeah, I know. What else?" your step uncle mumbles, drawing a path from your pussy to your knee with his lips.
Tommy chuckles and you squirm in his embrace, annoyed and frustrated.
"You... you're a good fuck."
"Mmm... don't ya think 'great'?"
"Yes. You're a great fuck, Joel."
"You sound like a horny slut, angel," he grumbles, "Hot and a great fuck. Way to objectify your poor uncle. I need more."
His lips travel back down to your cunt and you raise your hips in search of his caress, but Joel pushes you down and Tommy's free arm wraps around your waist tightly.
“Keep still, sweetheart,” he orders and emotions take over your mind and burst out of your mouth.
“Wanna know what I feel? I fucking hate you, Joel. I see myself in you and I fucking hate that. Because it’s like I’m staring at my own future. Just like you I want someone so much that I grab onto them until I realize that they don’t need me. Not as much as I need them. So I lie and manipulate and make them love me. But sooner or later they will see the real me. See my tiny black heart and they will get disappointed and dump me. And I’ll lie and manipulate more to get them back. And it’s a fucking cycle. I’ll never be loved for who I am. Because who I am doesn’t deserve any love.”
Joel freezes with his face between your legs, his expression pensive and serious. If you didn’t know him you’d say you see a trace of sympathy and sadness in his eyes.
“That’s why I hate you, Joel. And you know what’s funny? It’s that I can’t get you out of my fucking mind.”
You want to puke at how vulnerable you’re feeling, baring your soul and body to him. You turn your pained face to your stepdad and say,
“I can’t stop thinking about both of you. Is it love? It’s hard to understand. I’ve never experienced anything like this. Tommy, you’re fucking perfect and I made you suffer and I hate what I did to your life.”
You burst into sobs and your stepdad grabs you by the arms and manhandles you to get on his lap. Joel gets up and sits on the bed.
Tommy’s holding you close, your cheek pressed to his naked chest, peeking out the tank top, that you’re soaking with your tears.
He’s rubbing your shoulder with his hand and softly says,
“I'm not perfect. I’m a piece of shit. I should’ve never done what I did to you. We shouldn’t have. And it’s my fault for getting you into this mess.”
You throw your hands around his neck and start crying harder, mumbling through sobs and whimpers,
“No, please— don’t say that you regret it— regret us—don’t leave me like everyone else, please, daddy.”
“I won’t, babygirl. I’m sorry for… for everything. I love you. I’ll be there for you. Always.”
His arms tighten around you and he kisses everywhere he can reach — your forehead,
your temple, your nose until you tilt your face up and he finds your lips. He’s gentle with you, and you kiss him back, smearing your tears over his face but none of you cares. You’re caressing each other, drowning in the comfort of the embrace and the kiss.
When you part from him you press your nose into the crease of his neck and breathe in his scent, nestling into his big body. While sobs still crawl up your throat from time to time, Tommy wipes the wetness off your face and covers your naked body with a bedspread.
For a few minutes it’s quiet in the room, and when you calm down, you turn your red eyes to Joel, surprised that he hadn’t said anything assholish yet.
You find him watching you with curiosity and now you’re sure. He’s upset too.
A strange feeling envelops you. You want to hug him, feel the warmth of his body and share yours with him. But it’s not your relationship, not the way you connect. So you narrow your eyes and croak,
“Do you know how creepy you look when you’re staring like this, perv?”
You give him a little smile and notice a corner of his mouth slightly rising too.
“You surprised me, angel. Jus’ one month without a cock and you go completely nuts. Crying and shit. Throwing ‘L-words’ around.”
Now you’re both smiling at each other.
“Fuck off.”
“Ok, she’s back,” he says and slaps your ass over the fabric. “Ya know, your tears are golden, angel. Any man will do whatever you want if you cry like that.”
“It was genuine, asshole,” you snap back but there’s no bite to it. You feel lighter, all the pent up frustration and pain left your body and were wiped away by your stepdad’s warm embrace and Joel’s quiet support.
The only emotion that’s still tormenting you is desire. You squirm in Tommy’s lap and the bedspread falls off your shoulder revealing your naked breasts.
“Do you want us to leave, sweetheart?” Tommy asks and his breath caresses your tits.
“No, no, please, I want— .”
“What do you want?”
“I want you. I want you both.”
You look at your stepdad and notice him and Joel exchange glances.
“I think I owe you something, baby,” Joel gruffs and you turn to him and the shine in his beard reminds you of his lips on your pussy. The thought sets your core ablaze and you turn back to Tommy.
“Daddy?” you purr and the man nods.
“But no playing around this time, Joel,” Tommy warns his brother with a serious tone.
‘Course. Hop on my face, cry baby, I ain’t kneeling again.”
He lies down next to Tommy, shoulder to shoulder, and you almost squeal with excitement, throwing the cover off. Tommy leans back on the bed and you tell Joel to scoot lower.
“Wanna play with daddy’s cock.”
“Jesus, angel, is there anything you can do without daddy’s cock?”
You don’t reply and plant your knees on either side of Joel’s head.
A rush of dominance goes through your body when you see your step uncle in this position.
“Finally I’m gonna shut you up,” you smirk and lower your hips slowly, eager for your pussy to meet his smug grin.
Yet Joel is not the one to give up control easily and his hands grab your thighs and he pulls you onto his face. Having teased you before, now he doesn’t play at all and starts passionately making out with your sopping cunt, drawing gasps and moans out of your mouth. With his mouth open wide he stimulates you with a perfect suction while his tongue swirls your throbbing clit around.
You are reduced to a whimpering mess in a matter of seconds and you go so high and so fast that you need to ground yourself.
“Daddy,” you call.
“I’m here, sweetheart.”
Tommy unzips his jeans, trying not to fall off the bed, and takes out his cock.
It’s throbbing, the head glistening with smeared pre cum, and you spit on your hand and wrap your fingers around it. You give his manhood a few pumps, and Tommy moans, but Joel gets your full attention, when his tongue prods your clenching hole and then pushes inside you as deep as it’ll go. He starts fucking you with it and you ride his face, rhythmically bumping your clit against his prominent nose.
“Daddy, I can’t,” you whine, failing to concentrate on two acts at once.
“Don’t worry, I got you,” Tommy mumbles and his hand wraps around yours and he starts moving them together up and down his stiff shaft. His head is resting against the headboard but his half-lidded eyes are sliding between your pussy, crying into Joel’s mouth, and the unity of your hands, pleasuring his cock.
Your other hand is clenching your step uncle’s hair and your tits bounce as you increase the pace of riding his face.
You almost there when Tommy pulls your hand off his cock, sits up and mumbles, kissing your palm and panting,
“Oughta stop— too good— wanna come in your pussy.”
“Delicious little cunt,” Joel growls and starts rubbing your clit with the flat of his tongue, up and down, up and down, and you cry out his name, as euphoria bursts in your core and spreads like wildfire all over your body. You’re sobbing with pleasure, trembling over your step uncle's face, dripping juices onto his lips and he drinks them, slurping and groaning.
When the climax subsides you move off Joel’s face and Tommy takes you in his arms. The men are still fully clothed, except for their exposed cocks. You look down Joel's body and realize that he has been stroking his huge hard manhood while eating you out and your core reignites.
Tommy searches for your eyes.
“Do you feel better, sweetie?”
You nod with a tired smile and in a moment your lips crash against his and you kiss while his hands are hungrily roaming your sweat-covered body, your fingers running through his curls.
Not parting from your lips, Tommy brings his hand to your pussy and your legs fly apart. You shift in his embrace, now your back flush against his chest, lips still glued to his, and you moan when he slowly inserts two fingers into your hole, avoiding your oversensitive clit.
You sense a movement and open your eyes to see your step uncle get up.
“Mmm, Joel stretched you well with his tongue,” Tommy murmurs against your mouth. “Your pussy probably can take two cocks now.”
You pull away and stare at him.
“Two cocks, daddy? Do you mean..?”
“Two fat dicks, angel.”
Your head darts to Joel while Tommy’s fingers are still massaging you from the inside and the older brother laughs, lighting a cigarette, standing next to the bed,
“We gonna stuff your needy cunt so full, your belly’ll look like ya 4 months pregnant.”
He takes a drag while his free hand is wrapped around his huge hard cock.
Their words are ringing in your ears- ‘two cocks, your pussy.”
Your head snaps back to Tommy as you plead, “Please-please-daddy-yes-I want it. My pussy can take it, please, please.”
Your brows are pulled together and big needy eyes are glossy with desire. Tommy smiles at you with adoration in his warm dark gaze.
“We can try, sweetheart.”
“Fuck, angel. Your cock hunger sometimes surprises even me. And I know what a giant slut you’re.”
You don’t tear your eyes off Tommy as he coos at you while his fingers are playing with your soaked cunt,
“We still should prepare you. You know we are big. Especially now.”
“Now?”
“Look at you, my beautiful girl. Our cocks are throbbing hard just because of you.”
He leans lower and his lips brush your ear.
“I barely hold myself from taking you right now.” His fingers are moving inside you, slowly at first but gradually increasing the speed.
“My cock demands your little pussy. I’m so close to just sticking it deep in your sweet cunt and using you, taking what I need from you.”
“Fuck, daddy,” you whisper, closing your eyes and spreading your thighs wider, offering yourself to his hand.
You feel him add two more fingers, four inside you now, and the stretch makes you whine but the dull pain adds to the pleasure.
“Yeah, good girl,” Tommy praises you and kisses your cheek, his hand still working tirelessly, preparing your hole for them and bringing you closer to another climax.
You turn your head and see Joel smoking and watching you getting fingered.
His obsidian eyes lock with yours and he winks at you.
“Lemme help you, brother. ‘m afraid to split her poor pussy in half with my dick.”
He bends down and you gasp when you see his meaty hand move to the place where Tommy’s fingers are already stretching you to the limit.
“Joel,” your scared mewl mixes with the squelching noises of your sopping cunt.
“He’s gonna be gentle,” Tommy commands his older brother, and Joel humms absentmindedly as his thick middle finger prods your entrance over Tommy’s digits.
“C’mon, angel, breathe for me. Yeah, good slut, relax your hungry cunt.”
You do as he says and soon you watch his finger disappear inside you, joining Tommy’s digits. With an open mouth you watch two brothers fuck your stretched hole. You grip their wrists, not to stop but to encourage them to keep going.
Tommy's voice is strained with lust when he groans,
“Shit, honey. Listen to her. She’s crying for more. My fingers are drenched.”
His words send you spiraling into the depth of arousal and when the heel of Joel’s hand hits your clit, you cry out. Your body is shaking, your nails scratching their wrists, your face twisting with euphoria.
“Yeah, jus’ like that, little slut. Happy pussy, happy dicks, yeah?”
You barely hear Joel, after two orgasms your brain is mush. Through the fog in your head you hear Tommy’s voice,
“You sure you still want it? Honey, yes or no?”
You nod because of course you do. The way they make you feel when you fuck is the best thing you’ve experienced in your life, the brightest, the richest pleasure. You feel needed, desired, like they will never leave you. Never will be able to exist without you.
“You need to say it, baby, c’mon,” Tommy coos, “Need to hear it.”
“Yes. Please, fuck me both. Fuck my tight pussy.”
“Ain’t so tight anymore, angel,” Joel laughs, “but it’ll snap back after we done with her.”
He gives you a reassuring slap on the thigh and you smile, too spent to talk.
The men get undressed and then manhandle you into straddling Tommy. You kiss him as soon as you’re close, moaning into his mouth as if tasting him is your basic need, one thing you can’t live without. You both seem to get lost in it until you hear Joel’s grumble.
“Quit it, lovebirds. Let’s get to fuckin’.” He’s next to the bed and you turn your head, ogling his gorgeous cock.
“Soon my dick and your sweet cunt will meet, angel. Let’s make their first time special, yeah?”
He tilts your head up with his fingers, bends down and kisses you passionately. You missed his taste, mixed with yours now, missed his lips, his scent, enveloping you. Your pussy aches for him as much as for Tommy and you might hate to admit it but your heart craves him too. His fire is as scolding as it is addictive and you want him to destroy you, in whatever way he wishes.
You wrap your arms around his thick neck and kiss him, really kiss him, like you’re surrendering yourself to him.
Suddenly he lifts you with his strong arms, throws your legs around his waist and starts devouring your mouth like an offering.
You feel his hot cock pulsating between your bodies and you mumble against his lips,
“Fuck me, Joel. Ruin me.”
With a growl he helps you to sit back on Tommy’s thighs.
Your stepdad’s eyes dart between yours as he cups your cheek, “ya making me jealous, sweetheart,” with a smirk he adds, “I love it.”
He’s not lying, judging by the way his hard cock is smearing precum over your belly, and you smile, taking it in your hand and lifting your hips.
Joel encourages you, his heavy hand on your shoulder,
“Yeah, like that, baby.”
Eyes locked with Tommy’s you sink on his shaft in one go and you both moan, joined at last, relishing this sensation.
“Fuck, you’re wet, babygirl. So warm.” You press your tits to his chest, nuzzling his neck and start moving on his length, up and down, slowly and steadily. His hands grab your ass and he kneads and spreads your asscheeks while his low moaning in your ear makes your head spin.
“Ahhh—That’s my good girl—sweet pussy—riding me so well—missed it—hnggg.”
Then he looks up at his brother and grunts,
“Fuck, let’s do it, Joel, gonna come soon.”
“Daddy was celibate just like you, angel. Savin’ his dick for his dear stepdaughter,” Joel chuckles, stepping on the bed and getting on his knees behind you with a grunt. “Miracle that he didn’t bust a nut yet.”
“Fuck off,” Tommy groans and adds, “hope we won’t break the bed,” he smiles at you but you couldn’t care less about it.
“Daddy, what should I do now?”
Instead of Tommy, Joel replies, “Lie forward and enjoy, baby. Your daddies gonna do all the work.”
Tommy nods with a reassuring smile and you lean on his chest, your eyes locked.
Tommy’s cock twitches inside you when you feel Joel’s hands grip your hips and his fat tip prod your already full pussy.
“Be careful, Joel,” Tommy says as his hand rubs your cheek and he stares into your widened eyes.
He moves his thumb to your lips and says, “Suck, my love.”
You feel butterflies in your belly, hearing the pet name, and take his thick finger between your lips and start sucking. It instantly calms you down.
At this moment Joel pushes his tip fully in and you whine around your stepdad's thumb.
“Shhh, the head’s the meatiest part, angel. Now it’ll slide in like a knife through butter.”
Surprisingly enough he’s not lying. The burning you felt before subsides and with his fingers digging into your hips, Joel parts your walls, inserting his whole cock into your slicked up pussy and bottoms out with a roar.
“Fuck me,” he growls and laughs, “My little niece has a perfect hole.”
He slaps your ass lightly and your pussy clamps around their fat cocks, making both of them groan.
“Oh my god, I’m so full,” your voice is shaky, endorphins already coursing through your body.
“Yes, sweetheart, you did it. Shit, it’s so tight inside you now. It feels amazing.” Tommy’s head falls back against the headboard as his eyes flutter shut.
You almost giggle at how great it feels, then take a deep breath and whine,
“Fuck me, please.”
“Damn, you don’t have to ask twice, baby,” Joel gruffs and pulls his cock out almost to the tip before rolling his hips back into you.
The sensation almost sends you over the precipice. You squeeze your eyes shut, your nails scratching Tommy’s chest, and he hisses and thrusts his hips up into you. You gasp when they both start moving and in a few moments the brothers find a perfect rhythm of fucking your stretched hole, their stiff cocks, sliding in and out of your channel, are drawing moans and whimpers out of your open lips.
While Joel is concentrating on balancing his weight on his knees and stuffing your hole, Tommy makes sure to kiss and lick every spot he can reach. His tongue swirls around your nipples, hands grab your flesh, teeth nip your skin. He paints your neck with hickeys, gently kissing the pain away, until his lips reach yours and he kisses you, while the two cocks are fucking you.
Joel interrupts your kiss when his hand wraps around your throat and he pulls you closer to him. Your back arches and you look up at his face, hovering over yours, as he growls,
“Here’s my sweet niece— our pretty fuck doll.”
He begins snapping his hips into you harder, faster sending his cock deeper and Tommy follows his suit, thrusting his member up into your pussy with the same rhythm.
“I told him ya a slut—ahhh, fuck— and look at ya,” he smirks, ruining your pussy, holding your neck tightly, “his good girl’s bouncing on two big dicks, pleading to be fucked like a whore she is.”
“Dreams do come true,” you mumble back with a hazy smile.
Suddenly Tommy’s fingers swirl around your clit and the sensation together with the filthy words, spilling out of Joel’s mouth, pushes you over the edge and you come, harder than ever, trembling between the men, squeezing their cocks with your pulsating pussy while tears of bliss stream down your cheeks.
With a groan Joel licks a tear off your face and pushes you on Tommy’s chest before immediately exploding into your core, spurting warm cum deep inside you.
While you’re still shaking with your orgasm, Tommy embraces your body tightly and begins coming too, pumping you full of his load. Both men are thrusting, the rhythm uneven and hectic, and you’re milking their cocks until their balls are empty. You feel bloated with the amount of cum they squirted into you and soon it starts leaking out around their cocks and sliding down your thighs.
Gradually your climax dissipates while the men are still inside you. The room gets filled with heavy breathing of the three of you. Joel’s manhood slides out of your pussy first and he tilts your head to him and plants a quick kiss on your lips.
“Keep ‘er plugged, brother,” Joel gruffs, getting up, plops in your chair and lights another cigarette. “Happily,” Tommy murmurs into your ear, before he starts peppering soft kisses along your neck. You giggle when his mustache is tickling you, and to make him stop, you press your lips to his and you make out while his softening manhood is still buried deep inside you, in the pool of their cum.
Joel doesn’t ruin this post-orgasmic moment between his younger brother and you, the room is quiet except for the sounds of lip smacking and him smoking. And you’re grateful to him.
When you finally part from each other, Tommy helps you to lie down next to him. The mess between your legs makes you whine and Tommy gets you some tissues and helps you to clean yourself.
Then you settle down next to him on the bed, your cheek on his shoulder and your leg thrown over his thigh.
Meanwhile Joel puts his jeans back on without zipping them up and rests in the chair.
Tommy and you don’t care about the clothes, both reveling in the afterglow. Your eyes are closing when suddenly Tommy asks,
“Do you have any plans for thanksgiving holidays?”
You blink a few times trying to understand the question and gather your thoughts.
“I…Mel invited me to spend them with her family… but I don’t know. Why?” You tilt your head up to look at him.
“I’m moving back to Austin. Gonna live with Joel for now until I find my own place. Maybe you can visit me there. Us.”
Your heart sings and stomach flutters with excitement when you hear his invitation.
“Sounds nice,” you murmur, barely keeping yourself from squealing. Then you look at Joel.
“Would you mind?”
His piercing eyes slide along your naked body, linger on your lips and then lock with yours.
“I wouldn’t. Always nice to have a good pussy in the house.”
You roll your eyes and Tommy shoots Joel a glare before talking to you again,
“What about Christmas?”
You try to hide a wide grin, biting your lower lip.
“You might meet someone by then, daddy. Get yourself a girlfriend,” you murmur, drawing hearts on his chest with your index finger.
“I won’t. I don’t need anyone else.”
He places his hand under your jaw and tilts your head up.
“You’re the only one I need, sweetheart.”
You’re searching for lies in his eyes or his words but don’t find any. Your throat tightens and tears sting your eyes but you blink them away and reach up to give him a kiss. You pour all your love into it, need and desire in every stroke of your lips and tongue.
A few minutes in heaven are interrupted by Joel’s gruff voice,
“Before you swallow each other whole, let’s go find a bar and get me a drink.”
You giggle against Tommy’s lips and turn to your step uncle.
“I know a good place.”
You try to get up but your legs are still weak from all the orgasms, your pussy sore from the double-cock-pounding, so you almost fall, but Tommy’s strong arms help you up.
The brothers smirk and exchange glances, visibly proud of what they’ve done to you, when you stagger to the wardrobe. You’re still leaking and the thought that their cum is going to seep out of your pussy for days, makes you smile.
“Wear something slutty for us, angel,” Joel orders, putting on his mesh top. Then you feel his bulge press to your naked ass as he whispers against your cheek, “And no panties. Wanna play with your messy cunt under the table.”
The vision painted by your mind sends a shiver through your body and your clit twitches.
“Ok, uncle,” you agree and he lightly slaps your ass.
“Good little slut.”
Already dressed, Tommy comes up to your two and you turn around to the men. Joel’s bulge pokes your hip and his sticky gaze slides up and down your body. Tommy places his hand on your asscheek and gives it a gentle squeeze, cooing at you with a warm smile,
“Our good girl.”
You bite your lip, batting your lashes at the men, and purr with a mischievous smile,
“We’re gonna have so much fun together.”
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Thank you for reading!❤️ Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated! l'd love to hear your thoughts🌺💕
Part 5 || SERIES MASTERLIST |I Tommy’s Visit MASTERLIST
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