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monster-disaster · 1 month ago

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[wolf-shifter] Hiro

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wolf-shifter!Hiro x human!Reader Good to know: shower sex in the gym, rut

Summary: Hiro needs your help.

Hiro's phone chimes with a new notification in his pocket. He can feel the buzz of the device on his thigh through the thin fabric of his sweatpants. The sound is high-pitched and almost drowned out by the bustle of the gym. The metallic clatter and the music from the speakers mingle with the sounds of others. Quiet conversations and grunts reach his ears, but his attention is elsewhere. Each ragged breath he takes makes his chest rise and fall in a steady rhythm. He focuses on his grip, feeling the cool metal press into his palms, grounding him to the bench. He stares at the white ceiling above him. The bright lights irritate his eyes, though he is used to it by now. His muscles are taut and rigid as he holds his arms in mid-air. His fingers tighten further around the metal bar, causing the veins to bulge under his skin.

"Need help?" his friend asks above him, standing a few inches away to catch the barbell if needed. He reaches out slightly but does nothing more without Hiro's permission.

"I'm fine," Hiro replies with a deep breath. His chest expands, and he spreads his legs a little to brace himself more securely. Sweat glistens on his temple and his hair clings to his forehead in damp strands.

After three more lifts, he pushes the weights higher with a low grunt to put the weights back on the rack. His muscles strain with the effort. The tension in his arms eases, and he lets his palms fall back onto his chest with a relieved sigh.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," Hiro hums, nodding and trying to catch his breath. "Thanks."

When the man leaves to do his own thing, Hiro remains lying on the bench for a few seconds, letting the burn of his muscles gradually subside before pulling himself into a sitting position. He grabs his towel from the ground in the process, dabbing it over his face and neck to wipe away the sweat while stretching his neck to relax the tension in his body.

His gaze sweeps the room, checking to see if anyone is waiting for his spot. The gym is in full swing around him. It's loud and busy. It's no surprise that Hiro prefers coming here early in the morning when it's quieter and less crowded. However, his approaching rut makes it increasingly difficult for him to leave his home, crawling at the back of his mind.

The LED lights cast a vibrant glow across the space, gleaming on the rows of equipment. The treadmills, all new and shiny, hum steadily, their rhythmic whirring blending seamlessly with the clanking of weights being lifted and dropped nearby. The tall walls are covered with mirrors, doubling the brightness and amplifying the sense of space. People gaze intently at their own reflections, focusing on their forms and movements.

Hiro glances at his own reflection, too. He sits on the bench, hunched and breathing heavily. His shirt clings to his body like a second skin. Sweat glistens on his forehead, his hair is damp.

Fishing his phone out of his pocket, Hiro unlocks the screen to find a new message notification from Charm. Charm is a dating app designed to help humans and monsters connect with each other. Right now, it is supposed to help the wolf-shifter find a partner for his upcoming rut. So far, he hasn't had much success with it, though.

Most of his matches are either too horny or overly fixated on the idea of having sex with a wolf-shifter for a whole week. Their fetishizing is weird and concerning. On the other end of the spectrum, some matches seem to be looking for something far more than he is willing to give; dates, flowers, and constant text messages. It isn't what he's looking for right now. He isn't in search of a girlfriend; he just wants someone who can be his partner for a week, helping and having fun without being too perverted or too serious about it.

He taps on the small icon to open the message with a bit of frustration swelling in his chest. A large part of him has already given up on finding someone online. He read through countless profiles and chatted with numerous matches, but none of them met his needs. It's not like he has high expectations. Don't be a pervert, and don't imagine a family and a happily ever after a few texts. Why is it so hard? It shouldn't be.

The gym's noise fades into the background as he focuses on the screen, but whatever hope he had a moment ago vanishes quickly. The woman on the other end of the chat ghosted him once, almost two weeks ago.

His thumb hovers above the keyboard, undecided if he should write back or leave it as it is. A 'Hi' can't hurt, but to be honest, he is not in the mood to get to know her better. Or at least enough to spend a week with her. And what if she stops responding again? Wasted time and energy. With his approaching rut, he can't afford any of it.

"Hiro?" A soft voice pulls him out of his thoughts.

"Hm?" he hums, needing a second to get back to reality. "Yes?"

"Are you okay?" you ask with a gentle smile, still watching him worriedly.

"Oh," he gasps, jumping up from the bench. The wolf-shifter isn't sure how long he sat there, but it seems like it was enough time to make you concerned. "I'm fine."

"I can bring you some water if you need it," you offer, still not believing him.

"You are sweet." You really are. "But I'm fine. Thank you."

Your gaze rakes over the tall wolf-shifter once again for an entirely different reason than making sure he doesn't need your help. Your eyes linger on the width of his shoulders and the hard cords of his muscles underneath the white t-shirt he wears. The thin fabric clings to his body with sweat.

Of course, the wandering of your eyes doesn't escape Hiro's attention. A smug smirk pulls on the corner of his lips, but he tries to suppress it when you look up at his face again.

"Fine, then," you tell him. "You know where to find me if you need me."

With his rut around the corner, Hiro finds it more and more difficult to leave his home. The only reason he is willing to go to the gym is because his small apartment in the middle of Meriad doesn't give him enough space to drain the energy that buzzes under his skin, deep within his tense muscles. He needs something to do so he doesn't go insane, especially since his every attempt to find someone on Charm hits walls and barriers. Every suitable match lives far away from the city, or can't take time off from work. The others... well, the others are still too serious or too bizarre for his taste.

So his frustration just grows and grows with each passing failed match and chat that leads nowhere.

Of course, there is nothing wrong with going through a rut or heat without a partner, but it definitely makes it easier. The wolf-shifter wishes for something more than the solitude of his apartment and the company of his hand.

When Hiro visits the gym again late at night, he is already sweaty. A part of him wants to turn around and leave the moment he steps through the entrance, but he knows if he doesn't tire himself out, he will pace up and down in his flat all night.

The wide glass door barely falls shut, and your voice immediately reaches his ears.

"Hiro," you smile at him. Your lips glint with light pink lipstick. "It's good to see you."

"I didn't think you would be here," the wolf-shifter says, approaching the reception. Your presence is a pleasant surprise.

You shrug. "They pay double for nightshifts."

His gaze swipes over the gym behind you with silvery, gleaming equipment. The music is quiet, and he can see the matching video clip on the screen hanging from the wall at the back. The place is almost empty, with a few orcs at the weights, doing their own thing without a word.

As if you read his thoughts, you shrug again with a smile when he looks at you. "It's still early for our nightly members."

And you are right. The gym soon fills with humans and monsters who prefer doing their workout at night for whatever reason. The place gets loud with the familiar clangs and thuds of the weights with the treadmills' monotonous whirring in the background. It's busier than he thought it would but still better than the afternoon he came here a week ago. The wolf-shifter has enough space to be alone with his own thoughts and breathe the cool air of the air conditioner instead of the others' scent and sweat. With his rut so close, his senses are even sharper than usual. Hero's jaw clenches every now and again when the reflection of the lights in the mirror gets too much for his sensitive eyes.

He works for long hours, shifting from equipment to equipment until his limbs shake and his muscles burn. Sweat glistens on his skin, and his clothes cling to his body stubbornly.

"Hiro?" Your voice breaks through his concentration.

"Hm?" he exhales, looking at you while still running on the treadmill. The machine is loud, and his steps are louder.

"We are... closing soon," you tell him with a bit of guilt in your voice. "If you want to take a shower, I can wait for a while longer."

His eyes swipe over the place, surprised by the fact that only you and him are left in the gym. "Oh."

"Yeah," you nod, following his gaze over the rows of empty equipment. "You were busy all night."

And yet, after all these workouts, he still feels frustration and energy surging through his muscles, buzzing beneath his skin. His bones are aching, too.

His rut is close. Too close.

"It's better if I go, then," he stops the machine underneath him, jumping onto the ground easily. "I'm sorry if I caused you trouble."

You grin, shaking your head. "No trouble at all."

His eyes linger on the curve of your lips for a second before forcing his attention away from your face. You have pretty eyes, too. And you are always so kind and polite to everyone.

"I will be quick," he nods to the men's changing room.

"Take your time."

Turning his head left and right, stretching his neck to relax his muscles, he removes his clothes before stepping under the shower. Truth be told, being alone in the showers is much better than when the place is full of loud and sweaty males. Maybe he should do this more often, especially when you take the night shift. You are always so happy and helpful. The image of you flashes across his eyelids when he tilts his head back, letting the water wash over his face, feeling it flow through his hair and trickle down his back. You always wear tight jeans and an even tighter T-shirt with the gym's logo on it. The water cascades down his body, and each droplet follows the hard lines of his rigid muscles. His bones ache and throb, urging him to get rid of this maddening tension in his body.

The change happens quickly and silently. His body starts to tingle, punching a relieved sigh out of his expanding chest as the pleasant feeling ripples through his skin in waves. His muscles and bones grow, redefining his body entirely. His limbs lengthen, and his fingers and toes stretch into sharp claws. Soon, light gray fur covers his new body, soaked by the water still falling from the showerhead above. The transformation is natural and feels much better than working hours upon hours in the gym, fighting his urges.

Finally, his face changes into a muzzle, his ears twitch at the top of his head. His eyes glow with something new and feral, and his long, thick canines glint under the LED lights.

Hiro stands tall and powerful under the shower, his fur damp and his posture hunched so he doesn't hit his head on the ceiling. He can feel himself relax finally, his muscles losing their tension. A sense of freedom surges through him, thrill coursing in his veins.

Well, one problem is out of the way, but he can't avoid the other one much longer.

"Hiro?" The soft tilt of your voice sends shivers down his spine as you search for him at the lockers.

"I'm here," he grunts, still leaning against the wall while the stream massages his wide shoulders.

"Oh," you reply. "Well, you left your phone on the treadmill, I put it next to your bag."

"No!" He snaps, then changes his mind immediately. "I mean, thanks."

A few seconds of silence follow his words before you speak. "Are you okay in there?"

It's the middle of the night. You should be at home by now, and you are still so kind and patient.

Always so helpful.

Hiro's cock jerks at the thought.

"Ugh," he clears his throat. It sounds like a growl. "Can you come here?"

"Are you sure?" you ask back, unsure.

"Yeah," he replies. "I really need your help."

"Oh, okay."

By the time you reach the entrance of the showers, Hiro pushes himself away from the wall to face you. He can clearly see the change in your expression as your eyes fall on him. He fills the narrow stall with a heaving chest and bulging muscles. Your eyes wander down his wolf form, lingering here and there and stopping between his thick thighs. His cock is long and heavy, bobbing up and down with every breath he takes as he silently watches you, waiting for your reaction.

Your throat is tight when you break the silence. "Why do you need me?" You ask, forcing yourself to look up at his face. You can see his nose moving as he scents the air. Underneath the warm steam of the shower, he can smell you. You are sweet and light with a hint of spice he never felt before. It makes his cock throb, and he finds pride in how you gasp at the obvious twitch of his length.

"Come closer," he hums between his sharp teeth. He has to force himself to soften his voice to not frighten you. "I won't hurt you," he adds. "I promise."

The lipstick still glistens on your lips as your mouth opens to say something.

"Help me, Y/N," he continues. "I need your help, sweet girl. It hurts so much."

A smug half-smirk pulls on the corner of his large mouth when you make a few tentative steps towards him. Every fiber in him demands to grab you and have his way with your warm, pliant body. He doesn't lose his mind entirely, though. He has to be careful with you.

"Good girl," he hums with satisfaction when you get close enough so he can wrap his large hand around your arm. His claw grazes over your soft skin, making you shiver with anticipation.

"Hiro," you breathe out his name, but you are not even sure what you want to tell him. He is so close and so big. He towers over you easily, and he smells like musk and wet fur.

This close to him, the cascading water reaches you, too, soaking your clothes within a few seconds.

"I should have told you to get rid of these," he says without any regret in his voice. He tugs on the hem of your shirt before moving his hand up your upper body. His thumb rubs over one of your nipples, teasing the small bud through your t-shirt and bra. The air catches in your throat at the light feeling.

"Y/N," Hiro says your name, making you look up at him. His large canines are barely a few inches away from your face. "Always so sweet and helpful, aren't you?"

You nod, a bit confused. Of course, you are, why wouldn't you? You love your job, and it pays the bills.

Hiro smirks at your obliviousness. "Sweet girl," he says, cupping your jaw. You feel so small and delicate between his fingers. "Do you want to be a doll and help me then? Help poor Hiro out?"

Looking at the tall, powerful wolf, you have a lot of things in mind about him, but poor is not one of them. You nod anyway, and he grins.

"Good girl," he hums with approval as he leans closer to press a searing kiss against your lips. It's strange at first but not less arousing. It's more teeth and tongue than anything.

"Fuck, doll," he growls. "You taste so good." Saliva drips down his black, thin lips as he speaks. "I'm curious if you taste this good elsewhere too."

You forget how to breathe as you stare at him with shock.

The male chuckles. "Don't look at me like that, Y/N, it just makes me want to eat you more."

"Please," your plea punches out of your chest with a ragged inhale.

Hiro grins, showing you his sharp teeth in the process. "Take off your clothes, sweet girl, let me see all of you."

You have some difficulty with your clothes, they cling to your body like a second skin, but Hero does nothing to help you. He finds amusement in your struggle, making you tremble with a bit of embarrassment under his heavy gaze.

Your wet clothes land heavily on the ground, leaving you naked and vulnerable in front of him. His eyes rake over your body with hunger in his eyes while licking his chops.

"Just as I thought," he breaks the silence. "You are sweet in every way possible."

You can't help but smile at his praise. "Oh."

"Hm?" he asks. "Do you like it, sweet girl? Me praising you?"

You nod. Yeah, they definitely feel good, making your thighs rub together to give yourself some friction. Your pussy throbs with arousal ever since you first saw his cock jutting out from his body.

"Be a good girl and use your words."

"Yes."

"Good," he smirks. "Let me get your reward for always being a doll for me."

Before you can say anything, he is on his knees in front of you. He manhandles you easily, grabbing your thighs and pushing you against the wall. A high squeal escapes your lips when he lifts you up and adjusts your legs over his shoulders. Your nails scratch over the white tiles, but you can't find anything to grab onto. The only things keeping you upward are the wall behind you and the wolf breathing close to your exposed pussy.

"Hiro!" His name bursts out of you like a scream when he pushes his nuzzle against you. His nose nudges your clit, and his wide, wet tongue laps a warm path over your folds. He tastes you thoroughly, humming and grunting into your pussy. The vibration of his voice ripples through your spine, making your hips jerk and grind into his mouth.

Within a minute, you forget your position on his shoulders as your fingers rake over the soft fur at the top of his head. You pull on the roots, and the shifter growls and snarls while still feasting on your drenched pussy. He laps up your wetness, nudging your clit with every move of his large head.

The world spins around you over and over again as you hold onto the male between your legs. Every prod and lick of his tongue pushes you closer to the edge while your muscles turn to liquid, and you can do nothing but grind down on him, chasing your climax. Your moans echo off the shower walls, loud and high as Hiro eats you out. Your hesitancy is long forgotten since you can't make your brain work anymore. The only thing floating in your mind is the wolf-shifter's name and nothing else.

The air gets stuck in your lungs when Hiro's tongue finds your hole, pushing and teasing your entrance. The warm, wet muscle slips inside you easily at the same time you cry out his name again. The rough texture of his tongue rubs over your walls, reaching every spongy spot that sends you spiraling.

"Fuckfuckfuck," you pant with half-closed eyes. Your pussy flutters around his tongue, begging for more as you get closer to your high. Your muscles twitch and tense, and the burning coil bursts in your stomach with a searing sensation. It surges through your veins and turns your body limp and helpless. The sound of Hiro slurping up on your juices rings in your ears, almost drowned out by the rapid beat of your own heart.

You barely notice under the thick haze of your mind when Hiro puts you down and holds you close against his large body. Without his arms around you, you are sure you would collapse. His damp fur clings to your skin, and his musky, earthy scent fills your nostrils as you still gasp for air.

"Are you okay, doll?" he asks after a while, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. You can barely understand him because of the growl escaping his chest the whole time. It reverberates in your bones, shivering and rattling.

You hum, not knowing how to form words.

"Are you ready for more?" he asks with a hint of impatience in his voice while his clawed hands move up and down on your back, caressing your bare skin to soften his words.

You can't blame him, though. His cock is hard and heavy between his thick, hairy thighs. It leaks with pre-cum and bobs with every small movement Hiro makes.

"I still need your help, sweetheart," he continues, nudging your head softly with his muzzle. His breath is warm at the side of your face. "And you are the only one who can help me."

Straightening your posture, you lean away from him a little, just enough to look at him and nod. You are here to help him, you remind yourself.

"What do you need me to do?"

Hiro doesn't need more.

"Good girl," he grunts. "My good girl."

Before you know it, you are kneeling on the ground, ass up in the air, with the wolf behind you. The white, wet tiles are warm under your cheeks and palms, with the shower still cascading down on your pair. A helpless sound escapes your parted lips at the sudden change of position, but you do nothing against it. Your senses are too busy with the feeling of Hiro shifting closer until you can feel his fur against your bare skin and his erection on your pussy, sliding across your puffy folds. He is thick and heavy, and your body tenses for several seconds.

"Hiro-" you want to say, but the shifter just pats your hips.

"It's okay," he grunts. "Just take a deep breath, doll."

Deep breath, you think. It seems impossible.

How could you do anything when you can feel him moving behind you and soon, the blunt tip of his cock prods at your entrance.

"S-slow," you gasp with your heart beating in your throat.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," he hums mindlessly, too busy groping the flesh of your ass to really pay attention to your words.

The press of the head of his cock at your entrance punches a high, mewling sound out of your chest. By the time he forces the first few inches inside you, you are breathless and delirious. Pain and pleasure throb in your lower body, but you do nothing to stop him. You don't want him to stop. Your drenched pussy stretches and tenses around his thick cock, and your legs go numb as you keep your position in front of him. He rocks in and out of you, going deeper into you every time without giving you at least a moment to get used to his size. With a slack jaw and half-closed eyes, you tremble around him while spreading your legs even more in hopes of making your job easier.

It does nothing, though.

"Fuck," the male moans behind you breathlessly, watching his thick length disappear into your wet, tight channel. You hug around his cock like a glove, milking him with every shiver of your overwhelmed body.

"Just like that," he snarls. "So good. You are helping me so much, doll."

His approaching orgasm blurs his vision every now and again, and he needs to bite onto his tongue to keep himself going for a while longer. Cumming so soon would be embarrassing for him, even though the knot at the base of his cock is already swollen.

"Really?" You pant. The hope in your voice that you are doing a good job is humiliating, but none of you care about it.

"Yes," he snarls, grabbing your hips bruisingly tight to pull you against his groin. A high, mewling sound escapes your lips, and your back arches at the sudden, invading feeling. Your tits press against the tiles, and your fingers are sore from the force you try to grip onto the smooth, hard surface.

A surprised, airy gasp wheezes out of your lips when he starts fucking into you roughly, grinding his cock deeper and deeper into your clenching hole. Every drag and press of his erection ripples through your nerves, making your muscles twitch and jerk while you try to keep yourself in position in front of the shifter. He pushes you beyond your limits with every ruthless thrust while you wail and sob, with your vision blurring at the overwhelming sensation. Every time his knot presses against your entrance, you tense and forget how to breathe, but Hiro doesn't try to force more into you, and it's probably a good decision. Even though the gym is closed, you still don't want to get tied together with him in the showers.

His orgasm almost pushes the ground out from under him, making him lean above you while still squeezing your hips in his large, paw-like hands. He empties himself inside you with a feral snarl while you sob and shake, with your own climax rocking through your body. Your blood turns to molten lava as your vision blurs while you cry like a wounded animal with his cock pulsing inside of your clenching pussy. You feel every rope of his cum, and your walls milk him for more.

"That's it," the wolf growls, grinding his hips against your ass roughly and convulsively. His spine is rigid, and his face is contorted into a threatening snarl.

For a long moment, he holds you tight with your greedy cunt squeezing his spent cock while his seed drips down between your legs and washes away into the drain under the water, still cascading down on your bodies.

When he lets you go, you spread out on the floor while Hiro leans against the wall with his cock softening between his thick, hairy thighs.

"How are you?" Your barely audible question surprises him. "Did I help?"

A light, gentle smile pulls on his lips as his head clears up a little. "Yeah, sweetheart," he replies. "You did."

"Good," you hum, already half-asleep.

"Come on," he says, scooping you up in his arms when he wins back his strength and the control over his body. "I can't let you stay here."

"Where are we going?" you ask him, resting your face on his chest. His fur is soaked under your skin.

"Home," Hero replies. "I need more of your help, doll."

"Oh, okay."

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artificial-transmutations · 6 months ago

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Wrong bag, bro

Music blared from my headphones while I was running on the treadmill when I first saw the guy. It was obviously his first time in the gym, and after having gotten a short introduction, he looked around uncomfortably before approaching the weights. I sighed and stopped the treadmill. It was a good gym, at least judging from the equipment and the cost. The staff, however, was... improvable. It was clear that the new guy had no idea how to start and he would probably hurt himself like that.

"Sup? You're new here?" I said as I approached. He almost jumped when he heard my voice. I took a good look at him when he turned around. He wasn't very fit, at least compared to me. I mean, I'm no bodybuilder, too, but I do go to the gym a few times a week and try to stay in shape. The other guy was visibly unfit, with a small belly and no definition at all, but hey, we all have to start somewhere.

"Uhm. Yes. Actually, I wanted to lose a bit of weight. I'm Jonas. Do you work here?"

I chuckled. "Na, man. I'm Travis, and I just work *out* here. Why are you trying to get fit?"

Jonas seemed to be a bit embarrassed when he answered. "I... hope that will make dating easier. It's hard to find a boyfriend like... this."

He gestured down his body.

"Hey, you should do this for yourself, not for someone else. But yeah, I get what you mean. Chicks dig muscles, too."

The last part was probably unnecessary and somewhat spoiling the message, but I couldn't help it. It was a reflex to make clear I was straight. Really stupid, I know, but hey, that's just the straight genes talking.

Thankfully, Jonas took the hint and didn't hit on me as I showed him the ropes. He was mightily insecure, but a nice dude. After a while, he called it a day and we went to the locker room together. Having started early, I felt it was time to head home, too.

I took out my gym bag from my locker, as did Jonas, and got my soap out.

"Are you not going to shower?" I asked as Jonas just changed to his street shoes.

"Oh, eh, no, I'll shower at home." he said, and I understood. That guy was so self-conscious it would probably be hell for him to shower in a communal shower, so I just shrugged and said:

"Alright. See you around."

After the shower, I went to my gym bag to change into my street clothes but when I opened it, the contents seemed unfamiliar. Of course. Jonas had the same black gym bag as I did and must have grabbed the wrong one. That could happen. I just hoped I'd meet him again so we could swap back the bags. For now, it wasn't that much of a problem. I didn't have any valuables in there, and it seemed that Jonas had brought a towel as well, so I could just use his to dry myself.

What had been in there, however, were my street clothes. I mean, it wasn't a big deal, I could just wear my gym clothes until I got home, but somehow, I got curious and rummaged through the contents of the bag. There was something that immediately jumped into view and that was...

A pair of pink boxer briefs.

I mean seriously? How much gayer could it get?

I was just about to stuff it back into the back, when I hesitated. My gym compression shorts were soaked with sweat, and apparently, the boxer briefs seemed to be clean, I rationalized, but somehow, I *wanted* to put them on, for some weird reason. Well. I shrugged and just acted on the impulse, I mean, it was just a pair of underwear, right?

As it turned out, poor Jonas must have been not that well-endowed. The pair of boxer briefs was awfully tight and hugged my ass and my junk so firmly it was almost a second skin. I looked in the mirror and was a little surprised. My cock wasn't exactly small, but the underwear still didn't leave much to imagination either. But they were clean, and the fabric was quite pleasant to the touch, so I decided I would wear them until I got home.

Man, Jonas was probably in for a surprise when he discovered my XXL jockstrap from my bag. And unlike his - sorry - faggy underwear, I had worn that thing for a day now, so it wasn't exactly clean. I mean, there wasn't any reason for him to put it on, but what if he was curious? Or what if he was a little pervert who liked to experience the smell of a real man?

I shook my head. Where had that thought come from? I quickly got dressed in the rest of *my* clothes and drove home. However, during the drive I couldn't quite shake the thought of how Jonas might just be sniffing my jock, jerking his pathetic little cock furiously while doing so. Man, I really had no idea what was wrong with me today. When I arrived at home, my cock was hard and leaking pre into Jonas tight little pink underwear. Looks like I needed to blow off some steam.

I put on some lesbian porn and fished out my cock and balls from its tight confines. I have to admit that jerking off while wearing Jonas' briefs was oddly exciting.

At first, my eyes were glued to the two chicks on the screen, but as I got close to shooting my load, I leaned back and closed my eyes. Images of Jonas, wearing my much too large jockstrap came immediately and unbidden, but it was too late. With a groan, I came all over my toned and defined upper body.

I needed a moment to recover after that before I could start cleaning up. I stuffed my junk back into the pink underwear without really thinking about it, but realized it wasn't quite as tight as before. Perhaps the fabric was adjusting to my bigger mass. I was just about done with wiping the cum off my chest when my phone dinged with a message from an unknown number:

Unknown number:

"Hey there, it's Jonas, from the gym today. It seems like I grabbed the wrong bag when I left, and I want to return it to you. Can you give me your address?"

I thought about it for a moment while I saved his name to my phone. He probably found my number on the lost and found card, and I was just to agree, when I stopped. There was no rational reason not to swap back the bags as soon as possible and I had no plans for today. But...

Travis:

"Sorry, man, I can't today. How about tomorrow? We can meet at the gym."

I seriously had no idea why I lied, but not-so-little Travis twitched in the underwear as I wrote the message.

Jonas:

"Sounds good. Sorry I took your bag, I only noticed when I got home."

Travis:

"Don't worry, there's nothing important in there. Just my sweaty jockstrap, haha."

What was I doing? Why would I chat with a near stranger about my underwear? I was interrupted by the answer from Jonas.

Jonas:

"Yeah, I have found that thing already."

I hesitated. My cock was straining against pink fabric again, even though I just jerked off a few minutes ago. I really shouldn't be that excited, and I really shouldn't lead the poor gay guy on, but I couldn't help it. My fingers typed all on their own.

Travis:

"I see. And what did you do with it?"

It took a while before the next answer came in, and I feared that I had alienated the guy.

Jonas:

"Well, I'm wearing it right now."

Ha! I knew it! That guy was a pervert after all. I looked down at the tight pink boxer briefs struggling to contain my erection, while a small patch of precum had formed at the tip of the tent. Takes one to know one, right?

Travis:

"That old thing? I'm sure it smells sweaty as hell right now. Can you show me?"

Almost instantly, Jonas sent a picture of himself, wearing only the jock. It was way too big and baggy on him, and I could see his whole body in all of its unfit glory.

But somehow, it didn't look so bad. Absentmindedly, I squeezed my cock while looking at the picture. Then, with a mental "What the hell", I snapped a selfie for Jonas as well, of me wearing his pink boxer briefs. I didn't care to hide my boner, although it was less obvious than I thought. Might as well give him something to drool over, right?

After I had sent the picture, I looked at myself in the mirror some more. There was disappointingly little pump on my frame considering that I just came back from the gym. In fact, I looked even smaller than before I went to the gym. That couldn't be true, right?

But the bathroom scale confirmed. This was crazy! You didn't just lose five kilograms of body mass just like that. Especially, since my body mass was mostly muscles!

I took another look at the mirror, but it was true: my arms, my legs, even my chest. Everything looked less defined than before. And my chest was pretty smooth, too. I usually shave it, but since I have a high testosterone level or something, there's always a stubble remaining. Not so today. As I felt my chest with my hand, there was only smooth skin. What the hell was going on?

I looked back at my phone, and Jonas had answered again.

Jonas:

"Looks good on you, you should wear it more often! ;)"

Did he really think so? My heartbeat quickened on the praise from Jonas, and I could feel my cock reacting again. It must have gotten soft over the whole panicking, but reading this single line from Jonas was enough for it to strain against the tight underwear again.

Except... It wasn't *that* tight anymore. Sure, it was still a pair of boxer briefs and was supposed to cling to the skin, and it did, but before, my muscular ass, pelvis and of course, my large cock had filled it to the breaking point. Not so anymore. In fact, it fit pretty snugly, and although my cock was hard as a rock, the bulge it produced was much smaller than before.

My phone dinged with another message.

Jonas:

"Are you still there, Tray? You're still in for the gym later?"

Later? I thought we had said tomorrow! And why did he call me Tray? I quickly composed an answer.

Travis:

"Do we have to? I thought we'd said tomorrow."

The answer came immediately.

Jonas:

"Stop whining, Tray! I know you wane be big like I, so you must work hart!"

I cringed from the amount of spelling mistakes, but before I could answer, Jonas sent another Pic.

Was that still the same guy as before?! Sure enough, he was wearing my jockstrap, and the face was similar, but boy was he *ripped*. His arms and legs looked like he basically lived in the gym, and his hairy chest was sitting heavily on his perfectly sculpted eight pack abs. He even had a tattoo!

I looked back to the mirror in distress. I was positively scrawny, and not just in comparison. *My* arms and legs looked like twigs from a tree that were about to break from a strong wind. And were Jonas had all that chest hair and stubble on his chin, I was totally hairless, except for my perfectly styled bleached blonde hair.

I started to hyperventilate and had to lean on the sink to not fall.

What the hell was happening here?!

The phone dinged again, and I picked it up.

Jonas:

"Excpext yu wantto let ur tongue work out insted Todays bitch canceled and I Ned so to worship my "

It was getting really difficult to read, but I got the gist of it. But that wasn't right, right? Jonas was gay, just as me, and... Hold on, I... No, Jonas. Jonas wasn't gay, he was bi. Of course, with that fuck stick inside his smelly jockstrap, he'd fuck everything that moves.

All by itself, my hand had entered my pink boxer briefs and was jerking like crazy. Luckily, there was enough room in the underwear, as it was a bit loose usually. Even with my delicate hands, I couldn't close my hand around my shaft, it was just too small for that. So, I jerked with two fingers until I could finally stop myself. My cock wasn't as important for the upcoming meeting as my beautiful ass and my eager tongue that would submissively lap up every drop of sweat from Jonas manly body, so he would reward me with that magnificent cock of his. But still, no need to spoil the fun.

Tray:

"I'm coming over right now, Sir!"

I hope you enjoyed this little switchup! A few additional images can be found at my tip jar :)

#male transformation #muscle transformation #straight to gay #dumbing down #sweat

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mrs-saturday · 2 months ago

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Mon Ange, I Can't Take It | Kinktober Day 1 | Charles Leclerc x Overstim

♥ my masterlist!

♥ pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

♥ synopsis: Charles gets caught, and you teach him a lesson.

♥ a/n: Hey! Im sorry I've not managed to get any kinktober out, I've been sick in hospital with pneumonia after starting uni again, but I'm back now & gonna post all the dribbles for Week 1!!

Charles just can’t resist misbehaving. Sometimes, you think to yourself, he must enjoy the burning feeling of release in his abdomen as he trains. Vibrator snug against his prostate, you chuckle lowly and turn it up, deft fingers tapping the remote as you watch his eyes widen from the opposite side of the gym. His gaze shoots over at you, desperate and pleading, his face red & forehead dripping sweat, Whether that was from the workout, or the buzz of the bullet vibrator you’d taped to his cock that morning after catching him with his hands wrapped around his dick, desperately pumping over your discarded bra, you weren’t so sure.

“Ufh… Amor…” you heard from behind the bedroom door, the telltale whimpers of your boyfriend softly echoing through the hallway, as you cracked the door to watch. He was sat, spread legs on the bed, and your black bra in hand, wrapped tightly around his desperately aching cock, the precum dripping all over, sending the lace a darker, shinier black. “Mon ange… tu nichons…” he whines, the fabric gliding over his tip as you open the door.

“What was that about my tits, darling? Have you forgotten what we said?” You smirked in the doorway, towel wrapped around you, as his head snaps up, the sheepish look of guilt and knowing excitement on his face as you walk over, taking the bra out of his hands and raising a brow. “You know what to do, Leclerc. Hands off.” He whined as he saw you reach into the drawer, for a small bullet vibrator and a roll of medical tape. Truth be told, he was REALLY looking forward to this gym session.

Or so he had thought. But the burn of a 5k on the treadmill, and the leaking head of his cock was making this all too much for the Monagasque. His fingers were white-knuckle against the handles of the treadmill, as he looked over and mouthed to you “Mon Ange… I Can’t Take It Anymore.”

You laugh and give him a nod, and he immediately jumps off the treadmill, and follows as you lead him up to the bedroom, ass swaying as you move up the stairs from your home gym. A soft close of the door is all you need to push the taller man down onto your shared bed, a smirk plastered across your face as he hides himself in the sheets. “Please, amor, I’ll be a good boy” He moans as you skim his gym shorts with your nails, gently pulling down to reveal his poor, aching dick, covered in his own precum. “Please, please just let me cum already… It’s been an hour” his begs fill the room, and your ears, as you giggle and slide your own sweatpants off.

“Only cuz you’ve been so good” You sigh as you straddle him, the warm wetness of your cunt barely making contact with his tip, but sending his hips snapping up into you like some sort of buckaroo. You decide to put him out of his misery, sinking down onto his aching cock as he cries your name, hands gripping your hips as though you’ll slip away if he doesn't. And you don’t start slowly. No. You grind your hips down into the poor man with speed, and with force, eliciting moans and sobs and whimpers, a perfectly manicured hand wrapped softly around his thick neck as you bounce, muttering between your own groans and his ear “You don’t cum till I have. Understood, Charlie?” He nods, evidently struggling to hold himself together.

It doesn’t take you too long to cum, it never does with Charles, but for him it feels a lifetime. He’s writhing and whimpering and whining your name like it’s liturgy. You become a God for him to praise as your walls tighten around him and you nod, feeling the warmth of his seed spill up into you, tears rolling down his face as his nails dig into your hips to form little half-moon shaped bruises. A testament to his adoration of your body.

Once you’re both done, and flopped into each others arms, his hands circle your lower back, gently running over the nail marks as he smiles “Thank you for the lesson, mon ange, I truly couldn’t have held off much longer.”

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miley1442111 · 5 months ago

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hi ! can I request Derek Morgan x Pregnant! Reader?

Where reader is a couple days past her due date and is literally miserable and Derek’s lowkey frustrated because he’s tried every thing he can to help and he hates seeing his girl upset,

so they start looking up ways to help induce labor, and they try a few and none of them work, so reader gives up and starts to cry and Derek is there to reassure her that everything is gonna be okay,

& that he read somewhere that s*x induces labor and it’s turns into light fluffy smut?

---------------------

a/n: i love this idea, probably didn't do it justice, also my most sincere apologies for letting this rot in my inbox for so long :)

summary: derek has to do something when you're 3 days past your due date

pairings: derek morgan x fem! wife! pregnant! reader

warnings: pregnancy issues, smut (lowkey praise kink but wtv), going into labour

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It would be an understatement to say that being pregnant sucked.

You were tired, you were achy, you couldn’t do anything, you couldn’t sleep, and you were literally 3 days past your due date, with no end in sight.

Fuck this stupid baby, and fuck your stupid husband for getting you pregnant in the first place.

---------------------

You sat in your bed, miserable and in pain as Derek held you in his arms. He was annoyed. He could see how much pain you were in, and knew how much pain you’d be in soon when you had to give birth. He just… he wanted it to stop. So he looked up methods of inducing labour.

“Apparently spicy food helps with inducing labour,” he muttered as he mindlessly rubbed his hand over your stomach.

“I’ll try anything at this point,” you said in a small voice and Derek’s heart shattered.

“I’ll order something,” he nodded and you offered a meek ‘thank you’. He ordered the spiciest things on your local Mexican place’s menu, and waited eagerly for its arrival. When it did come, he plated it and watched as you ate it.

Nothing. Not even a contraction.

“Fuck’s sake,” you groaned, washing your hands after eating. “Now I just feel fucking sick.”

“I’m sorry baby,” he sighed, pulling you in to give you a soft but reassuring kiss. “The next thing on the list is physical exercise.”

That was not met with much enthusiasm, but you obliged anyway. You got on the treadmill that lives in your home-gym, and ran for 30 minutes.

Still nothing.

Derek watched as your frustrated face turned into the one you make before you cry, and his heart shattered a second time. “Come here baby,” he sighed and pulled you into his arms, pressing kisses to your forehead as you cried. He whispered words of reassurance and love,but you couldn’t stop crying. You were in so much pain, you were so tired, and you just wanted this baby out. You wanted to see your little girl and hold her.

“What’s next on the list?” You asked between sobs.

“Sex.”

You looked up at him, drying your eyes. “Sex?”

“Sex,” he nodded. “But if you’re not up to it we can-”

“Derek Morgan, this baby is coming out of me today or so help me god, I will hurt someone,” you swore. Derek nodded quickly and took your hand, leading you to your bedroom.

“What’s safe for the baby?” You asked him timidly as he undressed you.

“Spooning, if that’s comfortable,” he offered. He’d done so much research about how to help you, it almost made you sob all over again. Stupid pregnancy hormones.

“That sounds nice,” you swallowed back the lump in your throat as Derek smiled at you, then pressed soft kisses to your bare collarbone.

“So pretty for me,” he cooed. “My beautiful girl.”

You both laid down on the bed as he kissed you, whispering words of encouragement. God he was so attractive like this, taking care of you, loving you. You were getting ridiculously wet.

“I’m going to be real gentle, okay?”

“Okay,” you nodded as his hands started kneading the plump of your ass.

“You feeling alright?”

“Good, just please- do something,” you begged and he chuckled.

“Already beggin’ for me? God you’re perfect,” he kissed your cheek as he slowly slipped inside you. You let out a series of moans as his long cock filled you up, while his hands groped your body. “That’s it, good girl. Take all of me.”

He slowly started moving as you squirmed and moaned under his thrusts.

“Come on, you’re so good for me baby. Doin’ so good babygirl,” he groaned. “So pretty around my cock.”

You felt yourself clench at his words. Then it happened. Your water broke.

“Oh my god!” You shouted, immediately getting off of the bed and running to get your clothes on. Derek smiled as he watched you.

“It worked?”

“It worked!” You chuckled, then the contractions came in, ruining the moment. You hunched over and leaned on the bed and Derek started getting dressed.

“Come on mama, we gotta get you to the hospital,” he smiled as he helped you out.

---------------------

Twelve hours later, you two welcomed your first little girl, Emily Morgan.

Derek already wanted another one.

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criminal minds masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, marvel, top gun, challengers, the bear, the hunger games, obx+)

cm taglist

@khxna

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #bau team #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #derek morgan #derek morgan x y/n #derek morgan fluff #derek morgan imagine #derek morgan fanfiction #derek morgan x reader

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femmefatalevibe · 2 years ago

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Femme Fatale Guide: Habits To Become Your Best Self In 2023

Some habits, routine ideas, and mindset shifts to help make 2023 your best year yet. Hope this helps and inspires you to reach your goals for the next 12 months. Remember to work hard and take care of yourself. Once you put your mind to it, the sky is the limit! xx

Make Your Meals Plant-Based & Produce-Focused: Center your meals around a variety of vegetables, fruits, plant proteins, potatoes, and unprocessed plant-based fats (avocado, nuts, seeds) and minimal whole grains.

Get Creative With Stress Eating Substitutions: Discover healthy swaps for your meals and snacks to ensure what you're eating without sacrificing your goals. Some simple substitutes include mixing in cauliflower rice into your whole grain rice to add nutrients/volume while slashing the calories, using half an avocado with lemon as a salad dressing over spoonfuls of olive oil, swapping meat for lentils in a chill, soups, or stir fry, choosing frozen grapes or whipped bananas with berries over candy or ice cream for a sweet treat, etc. Remember: Spices and seasoning are your best friends.

Be Mindful of Your Beverage Consumption: Consuming enough water is essential. However, if you get bored with water, add some herbal and black tea, black coffee, or fruit-filled water into the mix. Cinnamon, vanilla, and apple or peach teas are great options to satisfy cravings and prevent mindless snacking (not a substitute for food – eat if you're genuinely hungry). For the winter season, try using some pure cocoa powder with hot water, vanilla extract, and a tablespoon or two of plant-based milk for a healthy hot cocoa drink.

Prioritize Long Walks: Carve out 1-2 hours of your day to get 10-12K steps in at least 5 days a week. Go outside if possible or jump on a treadmill/walking pad to get in some movement while watching TV, talking on the phone, or catching up on some emails.

Find A Simple Resistance Workout You Love: Yoga, pilates, or an at-home weight-training or body-weight exercise you can do at home. Browse different YouTube videos for 10-30 minute workouts to try or sign up for a class in your local area to make it a more social experience (and force yourself to take accountability to show up in the first place).

Create Short & Long "Bookend" Routines: Create a simple routine for the beginning and end of the task-filled portion of your day. For most of us, these routines would be done in the morning and evening/at night before and after work, school, or doing chores/errands. Let go of the rigid idea that these routines need to be done at certain times of the day. Set yourself up to win and tailor them to your schedule. Consider these short routines (like drinking a cup of coffee/tea, reading, meditation, journaling, a walk, or a short dancing session) your warm-up and cool-down sessions of the day. Having these rituals to look forward to will give you the energy and motivation to do what you need to get done each day.

Practice This 10-10-10 Mindfulness Practice: Make time for at least 10 pages of reading, 10 minutes of meditation, and 10 minutes of journaling daily (This can include shadow work) either in the morning or nighttime to clear and reset your mindset for the day.

Take An Hour To Plan Out Your Week: It's most convenient to do this power hour on a weekend (I typically reserve an hour before dinner on Sunday for weekly planning). Write out all of your main work tasks, schedule any due date reminders (for work, bills, chores, and other life necessities), must-do errands, emails and calls or appointments to make, etc.). I like using the Productivity Planner from Intelligent Change and my Reminders app/Google calendar via iCloud to sync deadlines and times to schedule messages/tasks/bills, so everything will be in front of me at the correct time throughout the week.

Prioritize 1-3 Tasks Daily: You might need to choose one large project to work on in small chunks or select a "Big 3" for the day, depending on how complex, lengthy, and time-consuming your projects/errands or appointments are for the day. Using this method allows you to be efficient, streamline your life, and feel productive without overwhelming yourself on the regular (the fastest route to burnout).

Make A Life Admin Schedule (and Stick To It): Choose days (and times if possible) of the week to update certain spreadsheets, batch reply to less urgent messages, clean your house, do laundry, grocery shop, etc. Scheduling these tasks ahead of time eliminates half of the battle for following through on what you need to do. Eventually, you will make these tasks into habitual routines that your brain will allow you to execute effortlessly as though you're in autopilot mode.

Mind Your "Circle of Influence": Do an intake on the 5-10 people you speak to the most or value in your life. If you're an employee, it is probably best to not include your boss or coworkers in this consideration list, as you need to work amicably with them regardless of your personal feelings. Look how you feel during your interactions with your friends, family, intimate partner, or an adjacent love interest. Consider how they speak to you, about themselves, and the topics your conversations are focused around. See if they align with the person you want to be and your goals. Evaluate how close you want to be and what parts of your life you think would be the most beneficial for you and the relationship going into 2023.

Set Boundaries: Understand your expectations, non-negotiables, and limits in every area of your life. Communicate these principles to others clearly, so they know when they are overstepping. Don't tolerate disrespect, but also don't expect others to be mind-readers. If someone knows that they're crossing your boundaries, it is easy to draw the line in the sand and walk away without the guilt or shame that can arise when conflicts originate from a lack of healthy communication.

Incorporate One Creative Practice Into Your Week: Reinvigorate your mind by engaging in at least one hour of creative activity per week. Try drawing, creative writing, poetry, singing, dancing, painting, pottery, jewelry making, graphic design, photography, etc. Even taking a foreign language course or creating a Pinterest inspiration/mood board or organizing your home/closets in an aesthetically-pleasing way counts. Figure out what creative outlet(s) you find satisfying. Prioritize scheduling this practice into your schedule weekly.

Refine Your Signature Look: Edit your wardrobe, try out a new haircut, or change up your makeup routine, nail color, or signature scent. Consider how you can close any gaps between your authentic personal style and how you present yourself on a day-to-day basis. Create an inspiration board if needed to help yourself define your unique aesthetic and gradually work towards embodying your ideal look.

Keep A "Praise" Archive: Create a record of all of the messages you receive highlighting your achievements, milestones, recognitions, or compliments. Compile a folder that acts as your "praise" archive for every area of your life. Create a folder in your work email inbox to save all of your professional achievements, praise, and positive contributions. Do the same for your personal email. Create a folder in your photo album of screenshotted texts. Keep a running list on your "Notes" app of any compliments you receive on your conversational contributions, actions, attire, personality, smile, etc. Hyping yourself up to connect to your highest self.

Create A "Siren" Kit: Take note of all of the clothing, scents, songs, cosmetics, phrases, people, and other aspects of your environment that empower you to feel your sexiest. Keep all of these items/songs/texts together to make it simple to set the mood before engaging in some indulgent action or revisit when you need a boost of confidence throughout your week.

Do A Financial Audit: Create an income/expenses spreadsheet to understand your current spending behavior and budgeting plan going forward. Set up your 2023 financial goals and projections, including target amounts for income, savings, and investments.

Give Yourself A Weekly "Treat": Find a healthy indulgence that you can strategically incorporate into your week. This "treat" can be a massage or nail appointment, permission to watch a movie or a couple episodes of a TV show, a serving of your favorite dessert or a glass of wine, etc. Life is meant to be enjoyed. Consider regular indulgence as an act of self-care not as a sign of weakness or self-destruction. Embracing pleasure does not require guilt or external permission.

Happy New Year, loves! Cheers to an abundant 2023 xx

#femme fatale #dark femininity #dark feminine energy #the feminine urge #it girl #dream girl #queen energy #high value woman #high value mindset #goal setting #success mindset #loa #loa success #female excellence #female power #femmefatalevibe

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activefitnessstore123blog · 10 months ago

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Benefits of using Elliptical Cross trainer!

It's not uncommon to find the elliptical machine in high demand at gyms, and it's a popular choice for home exercise as well. The elliptical trainer provides a low-impact, full-body workout, making it appealing to a wide range of individuals. Here are some reasons why the elliptical machine is commonly sought after:

Increases your cardiac capacity and stamina:

A well-balanced fitness regimen must include aerobic exercise, or cardio. Your heart and lungs have to work harder during aerobic activity in order to pump more blood and oxygen into your muscles. Mainly sole e25 elliptical is an example , because it contain foot pedals and it make reduce stress on the knee and ankle by two degrees.

You can get a great aerobic workout on the elliptical machine, which helps build your muscles, lungs, and heart. Consequently, this can enhance your endurance and stamina.

Low Impact:

The elliptical machine offers a seamless, easy-on-the-joints motion. Because of this, it's a great option for people who have joint problems or who seek a low-impact substitute for activities like running.

Reduce body fat:

An elliptical can help you lose body fat faster because its calorie burn rate is higher than that of several other cardio machines, such as the stationary cycle. This is particularly valid if you concentrate on interval training. Try to concentrate on the time and intensity of your workouts to get the most fat burned. According to the studies, while exercises at high and medium intensities were beneficial for fat reduction, high intensity interval training allowed you to achieve more in less time.

Improvements of your balance:

Exercises involving weight bearing might help to strengthen the joints and enhance your balance. You can focus on your balance and strengthen your core muscles by standing up straight and releasing your grip on the elliptical grips. You can try through the best sole e20 elliptical cross trainer.

Maintains fitness following an injury:

Exercise on an elliptical machine can be a terrific way to improve or maintain your fitness if you're recovering from an injury and are unable to engage in your usual physical activities.

Offers a range of choices:

Elliptical machines typically come with a range of pre-programmed workouts that may be customized to your preferences, including interval training, hill climbing, and other adjustable possibilities.

The elliptical is a fantastic substitute for running if you're searching for a portable running machine. You can replicate a running workout by adjusting the resistance and incline, which makes it less taxing on your joints.

#elliptical #Elliptical cross trainer #sole e20 cross trainer #sole e25 elliptical #body fat #gym equipment #health & fitness #fitness #small treadmill #treadmill #workout #running #elliptical bike #best home fitness equipment

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lalunalando · 7 months ago

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White Knuckles - LN4

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warnings: 18+! minors dni! smut, swearing, degradation if you squint, public, sex (p in v), fluff if you close one eye

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Another bad race weekend.

Another missed win because of shitty team strategy.

Lando was frustrated beyond belief after the Australian GP, sure he got another podium for the team so it’s not like it was the end of the world, but it was only 3rd place.

The top step belonged to his best friend and former teammate, Carlos Sainz, and he was more than happy to share the podium with him, in fact he preferred the comfort of having Carlos up there, but the issue was there were 3 spots up there on the podium.

Lando deserved the win, or even 2nd, but he was on the 3rd tier.

Behind the fucking red bull princess at her home race of all people.

Entering his regular gym back home in Monaco, all Lando wanted to do was work off the frustration.

He wanted to train until his brain turned to mush, his muscles hurt and he wasn’t thinking about HER anymore.

It’s not like he hated her, not really, but they’ve had a competitive rivalry since they competed as teammates in the lower formula series together.

Lando got his seat in F1 first, with McLaren picking him up in 2019 after seeing “immeasurable talent” in him, and he would never even dream of leaving the team that became a home for him.

But her? She might have started in F1 after him, but she was the Australian red bull golden girl from the moment she stepped foot into the paddock in 2021.

They called her “the viper” because on track she would strike fast at any gap she could take, and off track she was even quicker to bite back at media and gossip.

But to everyone who knew her outside of the media, to the fans she met and the people she worked with in the paddock, she was the sweetest person you’d ever meet.

And Lando hated how she had everyone wrapped around her finger, him secretly included.

Shoving his belongings into his locker and his headphones over his ears, he tries to push the thoughts of her out of his mind.

Her above him on the podium, her above him in bed, he couldn’t be thinking of his biggest rival on the grid like this.

His gym playlist blasting through the headphones, distracting him as he walks out of the locker room towards the weights, only stopping in his tracks when he sees her.

Running on the treadmill, zoned out listening to music, wearing a sports bra barely holding anything in and a pair of gym shorts small enough that they should be banned from being worn in public.

“So much for trying to stop thinking about her” he huffed quietly before making eye contact in the reflection of the giant gym mirror situated in front of the treadmill she was currently occupying.

Sweat glistening on her skin, an unimpressed look on her face with a hint of mischief behind her eyes as she made eye contact with him. Oh, he was so fucked.

“Norris, what a displeasure” She acknowledged his presence, slowly stopping the treadmill.

“Yeah well the feelings mutual” He responded with a roll of his eyes.

Seeing as it was a Tuesday, the gym was currently shared by only the two rivals.

All she did was smirk before putting her headphones back on and starting up the treadmill once again.

Huffing in annoyance, Lando turned towards the weights bench to start his workout. At least he could focus on that to distract himself from his biggest frustration sharing what he thought would be his safe space for a few hours.

Setting up for his first reps, he couldn’t help at peak at her through the mirrors reflection. Why did all these walls have to be giant mirrors, and why did she have to be here right now.

Lando got to work on his strength training, from bicep curls to weighted hip thrusts, he put all his energy into focusing on his workout. He had enough frustration from his disappointing race to fuel the fire within him, but what no one knew is that there was another type of frustration brewing inside the Brit.

Lando hadn’t been very active in the social scene lately, putting it down to “being too busy focusing on the upcoming races” to anyone who asked, but there was another factor at play.

A factor involving a few too many drinks after a successful double papaya podium, and the race winner who was currently inhabiting the gym with him, who denies remembering the night ever happened.

Finally breaking focus for a second, Lando decided to look in the mirrors reflection for a peak, what was the harm in a little look?

You were red in the face, almost looking like you would pass out at any moment as you pushed yourself harder and harder on the treadmill.

This concerned Lando immediately when he saw the state you were in, stopping his workout to go check on you.

“You know, it’s only us here, you don’t have to prove anything to anyone right now” he says as he approaches her side

Pausing her treadmill again and taking her headphones off to hear him, she takes a moment to catch her breath.

“Sorry Norris what was that? Some of us are trying to train here not just chat” she says with a huff

Lando doesn’t miss the way her chest rises and falls as she tries to bring back a normal breathing pattern, reminding him of how she looked that night after they-

“Hello earth to alien, did you need something or are you just being annoying?” She waved her hand infront of his face, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“I was just saying you should take a break, you have nothing to prove in here, no need to push yourself to near blackout” He responded with another roll of his eyes.

“Some of us have very strict training regimes we need to stick to actually, if you want to be the best you have to train the best. The team said I was a starting to look a bit out of shape so they upped my training, no big deal.” She states matter-of-factly as she wipes some sweat off her body with her gym towel.

Out of shape? What were red bull on about? She was more in shape than 98% of the grid, having appearance pressure already constantly placed on her, so where the fuck was this coming from.

“You realise how insane that sounds right?” He scoffs

All she can do is tilt her head in response, confused by what he could even mean by that.

“You can’t seriously think they’re right, i mean, you’re literally one of the smallest people on the grid, and I’m not just talking about you and Yuki’s height” he continues.

Wrong time for her to be taking a mouthful of water, because that mouthful ended up all over Lando.

“LANDO, YOU CAN’T VIOLATE YUKI LIKE THAT” she bursts out in laughter.

“Well you just violated me by spitting your water all over me” he retorts, joining in laughing.

“Oh my god I’m sorry, here take my towel”

”no don’t worry, i was sweating anyway” he waves her off before taking his shirt off to dab himself down.

If she hadn’t been flushed red before, she certainly was now as she watched the way his slight abs glistened from sweat and now water under the gym lighting.

Admittedly the red in her cheeks when he had walked over wasn’t entirely from her workout, she would never openly admit it but she had taken a peak at him working out and felt flustered after watching how much weight he was lifting during his hip thrusts, making her mind run wild at the thought of how easy he could throw her around.

She couldn’t tell him that though, she couldn’t tell anyone.

Being the first female on the grid was an honor, getting to pave the way for future females in the sport, she would do anything to prove her worth.

But it had major downsides too, mostly her appearance always being under the microscope and always judged, but also the way she interacted with the other drivers.

The worst being her own teammate, they were very fortunate to get along as well as they did and becoming fast friends when she joined the team to partner him, but it meant that every friendly interaction they had got psycho-analyzed by fans and suddenly the rumor mill ran wild with stories of her “only having a seat because she was sleeping with her teammate” or “Max Verstappen cheating on his girlfriend with overly seductive teammate.”

Lando had almost fought Max once, getting so jealous that he couldn’t stop himself after a few shots for confidence.

Lando didn’t miss the way her eyes glazed over as she tried to check him out ever so subtly, causing a smirk to erupt on his face.

“Whatcha thinking about viper? You look a little red”

“Don’t flatter yourself Norris, I’m still just overheated from running” you tried to brush it off while stepping off the treadmill, rolling your eyes at him in the process.

“If you keep rolling your eyes at me baby, I’ll make them roll for another reason”

That stopped her in her tracks.

“Oh come on pretty girl, surely you’ve got some smart ass response to that” he pushed, bringing his hand up to move the piece of hair that had fallen infront of her eyes before trailing the back of his hand across her cheek and down her neck, continuing his flirtatious torture.

“No i was just thinking how funny it was that you think you could ever make my eyes roll, missionary doesn’t do it for me” she smirked back finally

“Funny, because i remember you begging me to let you cu-“ before he could finish his sentence, she was shoving his hand over his mouth to shut him up.

“Lando be so fucking for real right now, this” she said with wide eyes while pointing between the two of them “never happened okay?”

“If you really don’t remember, maybe I should give you a reminder” he smirked, before grabbing her hand and dragging her to the locker room before she could respond.

As soon as she was through the door behind him, he had her pushed against it as he fumbled to find the little lock on the door, his lips immediately on her neck.

“Lando we can’t, what if someone walks in” she whimpers as his hands glide around her rib cage before sliding down to grasp at her ass.

“So what? They see how pretty you look with your lips wrapped around my cock? How no one can ever make you cum like i can? Such a shame” he teased

“No Lando wait I’m serious, i can’t risk another scandal go around, you won’t cop shit for it like i will.” She said, placing her hands on his chest to push him off lightly.

“Is that the only thing stopping you right now?” He asked, finally understanding her a little more, understanding why she always denied their night together.

“I’m not blind Lan, i can admit to finding you attractive amongst how much you annoy me, but i can’t risk it” she responded with a sad laugh.

Without a second thought he grabbed her hand again and pulled her further into the room, towards the shower cubicles before shoving her into one and locking the door behind them, brushing past her to turn the shower on.

“Lan what are you-“

”You can still say no if you want to, but no one will catch us in here. The shower will muffle the sound and we may as well wash up since clearly neither of us are going back to working out now” he said, squeezing her hand to reassure her.

”no one will catch us” she said with soft eyes

“I’ll keep you safe” he responded before smashing his lips to hers.

Very quickly, they were stripping out of their gym wear before Lando backed them into the running water, turning so her back was against the wall.

Hands roaming over her now naked body, he couldn’t believe he was getting the chance to do this again.

His lips attached to her neck, and she couldn’t help the soft moans that slipped past her lips at how good it felt.

Hearing the pretty noises already spilling out from just a few bites, Lando couldn’t wait to see what he could pull out of her while his cock was buried inside her.

Painfully slow, Lando trailed his hand between the two of them to her heat. Running a single finger through her folds, he couldn’t help the smirk that formed feeling how turned on she already was for him.

“Look at you pretty girl, already so ready. What got you this needy baby?” He asked as he circled her clit with the pad of his forefinger, making it hard for her to respond in a coherent sentence.

“Y-you Lan, was thinking about you” she whimpered out

“me? What thoughts was that filthy little mind thinking about me huh?” He bit into her neck again, making her whine.

“Watching you lift the weights with your hips, was thinking about how I’d look on your lap” she panted out, reaching down to wrap her tiny hand around his cock that was resting between the two of them before giving it a few slow pumps.

“You’d look so pretty on my lap angel, too bad we don’t have time for that today” he groaned as he slipped his fingers back through her folds, before slipping two digits in without warning and curling them in just the right way it instantly drove her insane as they stretched her out.

“FUCK LANDO” she screamed out before dropping her head to his shoulder and biting down to keep quiet.

As her hand tightened around his cock, he increased his pace bringing her closer to the edge, his own high building

“Princess, as much as I want to drag this out as long as possible i don’t think I’m going to last, I’ve been waiting too long for this to happen again” he groaned

“Please Lando, please fuck me” she begged, fuck she’d drop to her knees right now for him if he asked.

He couldn’t wait another second after hearing that, taking his fingers out of her and flipping her around so that her chest was pushed against the tiled wall, kicking her feet slightly further apart to give himself better access.

“You’re going to have to be quiet baby girl, don't want anyone to know how good you’re taking me in here” he growled before plunging his cock into her without further warning.

She had to bite down on her arm that was holding her up to stop herself screaming in pleasure, Lando stretching her out all over again while his cock relentlessly pounds into her.

His fingertips gripping her hips so tight that they’d surely leave a bruise tomorrow, not wanting to think about letting her go anytime soon.

“Fuck do you know how often I’ve thought about using this pussy again? It’s all I’ve thought about since that night but even my memory doesn’t do it justice, i swear you feel tighter, like your pussy was made to perfectly grip my cock and only mine” he groaned out between pumps, feeling her pussy pulling him back in every time

“All yours Lan, it’s all fucking yours” she squeaks, feeling her orgasm approaching hard and fast as Lando basically bruises her cervix.

“Gonna cum for me pretty girl? Can feel your pussy getting tighter, gonna make me cum soon” he pants, kissing her shoulders and neck from behind her.

Lowering one hand down to find her clit again, he circles it with the perfect mix of pressure and speed, making her see stars.

“Please lan, need to cum, please let me cum” she begs as her legs start shaking, barely able to keep her up anymore.

“Good girl begging for permission, cum on my cock baby, scream my name so everyone knows who you belong to” he speeds up his already brutal assault on her pussy.

With that, she’s screaming out as she clamps down on his cock, almost dropping to the floor in pleasure, only held up by Lando’s grip on her hips.

That’s all it took for Lando to come undone, hearing the pretty screams coming out of her mouth, he was pulling out and pumping his cum onto the swell of her ass.

After they both came down from their highs, Lando took great pride in making sure she was taken care of, helping gently wash her skin while peppering little kisses over her shoulders.

“So, your biggest worry is people starting rumors about you with other drivers?” He asks sincerely

“It gets tiring always being called a home wrecker and a whore just because you were seen interacting positively with another driver, the PR team assure me it’s fine but i feel like such a burden on them that they’re always having to deal with it” she sighs, leaning back against his chest

“What if you were just seen with one driver from now on? Would that be an issue?” He quietly presses

She turns around, quirking an eyebrow at him in confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“I feel like i did this very backwards, but I’ve been wanting to ask you on a date since we met, even more so after that night back in Texas, so would that be okay?” He asked, all confidence suddenly leaving him as he waited for a response.

“I mean, I’d probably have to clear it with the Red Bull PR team, but I’d love nothing more” she responds with a bright smile.

721 notes · View notes

ccrites · 8 months ago

Text

chokehold

listen, I've had this idea in my wips for a while (since the begnining of the year actually) and the fat reader worms have been wiggling in third gear with all the awesome stuff early ( @391780 ) has been putting out lately. So have 6.4k words of Soap being an absolute pussy eating freak but you know you love him

(also on ao3 if you prefer the formatting there, or if you want to drop a kudo)

The second the doors swing back closed behind you, you start feeling the scratchy feeling of doubt at the back of your throat.

It was predictable, really.

A small gym in a small town, heads turn when the hinges creak, not because they’re staring at you specifically, but because it’s a reflex.

Or at least, that’s what you tell yourself to keep the scratchy feeling from turning sour in your mouth. Or make you throw up from embarrassment.

Perhaps your New Year’s resolution should’ve been to start on a home gym type of situation. Buy yourself some girly weights, a mat, and some sort of stepping device, and do those easy exercises every slim, pretty, high-ponytailed YouTube instructor seemed to preconize people out of shape do. Like a hamster on a wheel inside their cage. A rat chasing its own tail, maybe.

No, you promised yourself no more fake promises. Perhaps the money spent on the gym membership (stupid fucking New Year’s promotion) would motivate you to use it, lest it’s just money down the drain.

You wore the stretchiest, thickest pair of black leggings you owned, hoping no one would see the terrible shape of your underwear through it. On the opposite spectrum of things, you knew the largest hoodie you owned would smother you and make you boil with sweat, so you chose the next best thing: the widest black t-shirt you owned. It was definitely not black enough, the dye faded into a dark gray from use over the years, but it was the only thing that camouflaged your body enough from the others’ sight. God forbid they imagine what your body actually looks like underneath.

The heads pretty quickly turned back around as you started walking towards the empty treadmills. It couldn’t have been more than a second, but the combined weight of at least a dozen pairs of scrutinizing eyes would’ve been enough to make you turn on your heels and back to your car, fuck the membership price.

At the very least, you could convince yourself that walking in place (no better than a hamster on its wheel but oh well) would be enough to get you started. Baby steps, and all.

It doesn’t take long for you to realize the treadmill fucking sucks. Why would anyone suggest looking at a parking lot while suffering instead of the pretty scenery of a park or forest (while also suffering, but still).

The timer you’d set for the warm-up (ten minutes, just like the pretty blonde coach suggested!) crawls by way too slowly for your taste. You’d be all but whooping with joy when it beeps if you weren’t so out of breath and conscious of a gaze on you.

You’d seen him as soon as you walked in.

Between figures of balding men trying to get rid of their beer gut with abs, two thin women whispering to themselves in a corner while trying to look inconspicuous, and a few other, completely average-looking men and women, there he stands, eyes meeting yours in the mirror as he deadlifts an impressive amount of black plates.

He immediately looks straight ahead, correcting his stance, as if there were anything to be corrected, in your unathletic opinion. The muscles in his arms bulge even through the thin, grey hoodie, and the ones in his legs coil tight as the weight is lifted off the ground in a slow, controlled motion. Not even a grunt escapes his lips, at least no one you could hear from where you stood, completely mesmerized.

There was always something almost unappealing about overly muscled men. Their wife’s not feedin’ ‘em enough, your granny would grumble when passing by the rows of magazines at the checkout of the supermarket.

Yet this man.

Yeah, he was muscled. But in a way, he looked… almost normal. Like he was built for strength, not necessarily vanity. Each bend of his legs, each twist of his arms…

You’d swoon if you hadn’t lowered your standards so low he’d trip on them. Accepted it a long time ago. Fats belong with fats, thins with thins, and if there’s a thin with a fat, either one’s getting fattened up, or the other’s getting dumped. It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy, and one you’d rather not be a part of.

You walk with shaky legs to the water dispenser, then get ready to grab the second to lightest weights to try some bicep curls.

You try to remember the positioning from the videos. Rotate in… or out? Should the wrists be like this? You go through ten repetitions on each side, before you think that you should’ve gone for the abs straight away. God knows there’s fat to burn there, and that the flab under your arms can wait.

You turn back from the rack and walk straight into a wall.

No, a chest.

Fuck.

“Sorry there, miss,” says a deep voice. You detect some sort of accent, unable to quite place it right away.

Your eyes run up, instinctively stopping for a second at chest level (holy heavens that’s a Chest with a capital C if you’ve ever seen one) before finally meeting that same pair of eyes you met a few minutes ago, through the mirror.

Double fuck.

“S-sorry, it’s me, wasn’t watching,” you stammer out, gesturing to the weights in a panicked way. “Just, y’know, switching exercises,” you sputter with a nervous laugh, like it was a completely normal thing to switch exercises after one rep.

He chuckles, and you really need to start planning your escape, because holy shit the way his pectorals rise and fall as his chest puffs up is getting a bit too much for your poor little humiliated self to handle, but he doesn’t let you as he speaks in a soft tone.

“I’m getting arms aren’t really your thing, eh?” he asks, not unkindly. Gosh, did it have to be a Scottish accent?

You can’t meet his eyes, they’re too blue, too piercing for your liking. “To be fair I don’t know what’s my thing yet, I’m just starting out, y’know?” you shift your weight on your legs, conscious of the size difference, and not in the way you wanted to be. Your neck is very warm all of a sudden.

He laughs again, like it’s the funniest thing in the world, and you almost want the floor to open up and swallow you whole, but the words that come out of his mouth are completely unexpected.

“Figured! A girl with thighs like yours, I’m sure you can deadlift more than me with just a lil’ training. I’m Johnny, by the way,” he adds in passing, as if offering his name is the least of his concerns. “You ever got someone to train you?”

You’re entirely unsure if you’re dreaming or not. Did this Scottish hunk of muscle really just offer to be your personal trainer?

“Never - uh… lifted anything, I guess. Just when moving, my couch and bed and all, but I had a friend help me.” You definitely feel like you’re oversharing and you’re struggling to ignore the weight of the gaze of the two thin women, burning through you as they whisper among themselves, when you realize you hadn't answered the second part. “Oh and, uh– no. I’ve never… trained. Been trained. It’s my first time in a gym since- a while. I don’t want to bother you.”

You finally look up at him, and you’re unable to read his expression. There’s a sort of curiosity, a fascination, that blends fast into a wide-eyed joy that’s so open, so sincere that it makes your head spin as he gently but firmly grabs your wrist and pulls you where his bar stands on the thick mat, ignoring your sputtering protests. “Not a bother at all, lass!” He lets go of you as he bends down and effortlessly racks the barbell, starting to remove plates as he continues. “We can start by measuring your max lift, then the one where you can easily do three reps, then we’ll hike it up till failure, so I can calculate your starting training weight!” he rambles on excitedly. You nervously shift on your feet, conscious of more curious gazes on you, but then he’s back in your bubble, pulling your attention towards him like a magnet.

His smile is like a blazing sun, and you don’t have the heart to tell him to prepare for disappointment.

He’s infinitely patient as he shows you how to place your feet, and the angle of your hips (oh, how you feel your knee weaken at the feel of his light tough through the leggings, nothing short of electrifying, despite being perfectly friendly), the hold on the bar. It’s all a blur till you find yourself bent over in front of him, looking in the mirror at your position and trying not to feel conscious of the way he’s placed behind you. Or let your mind wander in inappropriate places.

“Whenever yer ready, hen.”

You brace yourself, close your eyes for a brief second, wondering how the hell you’d landed on this planet, then breathe in, open your eyes-

The weight is in your hands. Not on the floor. You’re holding it.

You almost drop it when he cheers behind you, warm palms rubbing down from your shoulders to your elbows and back up. “Easy! I told you you’d be a natural! ‘S all in the legs and you’ve got awesome legs, bonnie! Let’s add twenty more.”

It’s a blur of racking and de-racking and lifting once and setting back, and redoing it again and again. You’re out of breath, sweating like a sinner in church, but you’re smiling along with him, finding yourself giving him double high fives, and doing small, excited jumps.

“Next one’s exactly my weight, if y’can lift that, I’ll be losing my bloody mind! D’you realize how well yer doin’ for a first-timer?” He says as he bends next to you, adjusting the bar for the next set of weights. With a wipe of his forearm over his forehead, he crouches slightly down, placing his head right above your shoulder and looking your reflection in the mirror straight in the eyes with a conspiratory grin. “Swear to God, if ye can lift it off the ground, I’m buying you the most expensive drink at the bar next door!” he says, grin blending into a blinding smile, too genuine for your own good.

He’s just friendly, just friendly, just friendly, you say to yourself like a mantra as you position yourself. He stands again to his full height behind you, hands ready under the bar, a safenet.

Deep breath in– hold it…

Slowly but surely, you lift the weight off the floor, your ears ringing from the effort. You see his lips move as he cheers you on, but the blood pumping in your eardrums makes it impossible to hear him. Suddenly, the weight is back on the ground and your feet are off the floor as you’re lifted in a tight embrace and spun around like you weigh nothing.

You yelp and flail but he’s holding you tight, face pressed smack-dab in the middle of your chest, between your tits, rumbling praises about your prowess while you’re trying to figure out whether this can be something that your brain is capable of summoning as a dream.

“Put me down, Johnny, oh my God, put me down!”

He thankfully complies but not before squeezing your ass tighter, and suddenly nothing feels real anymore.

“Jesus, I knew ye were perfect,” he says, pulling back reluctantly to rerack the bar and put back the weights. “I cannot wait to properly start training ye’ tomorrow, but for now, I have a promise ta’ keep, and, uh, let’s just say I wouldn’t mind using those strong thighs as earmuffs with this freezin’ weather. On the way back from the bar, what d’ya say?” he adds, wiggling his eyebrows with a crooked smile that lets you know he’s joking around. (Is he?)

You laugh with him and for a second, you forget what you were here for.

+++

The way to the bar is short. It was just a block away (Good for business, he jokes), but the conversation with Johnny made time really fly by.

He seems genuinely glad when you tell him you’d decided to head to the gym not just as a New Year’s resolution, but trying to simply become a better you. There’s no condescendence, no talking down, no (God forbid) pity, just an overall nice interaction the whole time. He tells you about being on leave as a soldier (Medical leave, he specifies, a fucked up knee can work in a gym, but it’s a different story out in the field), you tell him about your studies and how that led into a “big girl” job that left you no time for yourself.

“But I’ve always been a big girl,” you feel the need to justify. “Just… gotten bigger as I stopped finding time to move. The desk and the laptop are pretty stationary,” you joke, still trying to make sense of why a man like him (broad, and tall, and strong, and… gosh, just perfect-looking) would even deign to accept being seen with you.

(It’s not a date, you dumbass)

“I happen to like big girls,” is what you don’t expect him to say.

Wait, what?

His blue eyes glue you to your seat, and you respond dumbly. “What?”

“I mean, why do you think I’d offer to train you?” he continues, placing his hand, big and warm over your thigh. It’s squished as you sit, wide and flattened in your seat, yet his hand covers a good amount, almost covering the whole width.

Your brain is short-circuiting but you have to answer something.

“Out of– uh… out of niceness?” you stammer out, feeling your insecurities climb back out of the hole they’d been sleeping in all this time, making you shrink even more, trying to cover yourself as if he didn’t see right through you with that piercing gaze. “To feel good seeing you be the reason I lose weight?”

He chuckles, squeezing your thigh as his head hangs down, almost as if to hide the smile that spreads on his lips.

“Strength training doesn’t work like that, bonnie.” He looks back up, and his eyes are blue, and wide, and so pretty, that you can’t find anything to argue back. “Ye’ think building glutes underneath that fat arse does anything but make it bigger?” He shifts, inching closer as he licks his lips and drops his voice lower. “Ye’ think growing your quads will make this,” he gives an even firmer squeeze, wiggling the fat back and forth, and you tense under his grip, but he’s got you pinned down, “any less wide and soft?”

He presses closer, and the booth has no escape room, you’re practically squeezed into the corner as he pushes his body against yours, bending to whisper lowly in the crook of your neck.

“I did not joke when I said I want yer pretty thighs wrapped tight around my head.”

You can’t be blamed when you don’t remember how you ended up in the back of a cab, Johnny barely taking the time to bark an address to the poor driver and throw fifty quid on the front seat before kissing you absolutely senseless, shamelessly groping your tits with a hand and wrapping the other around your thigh, squeezing you close.

You should probably think more about going home with basically a stranger, no matter how hot, but when he presses his entire palm against your cunt, cupping it over the quickly dampening pair of leggings that didn’t seem so thick anymore, you can’t think at all. He swallows your quiet moans, and hums contently against your lips, taking each gasp for air as an invitation to slither his tongue into your mouth. God, you’d forgotten what a good makeout session was like, and you can’t even find it in you to be embarrassed when you see the cabbie’s eyes in the rearview mirror, instantly looking away when you see him staring.

Johnny doesn’t seem to mind either, and when he notices you looking in the front again and again, he crowds you against the door behind the driver with a huff, half-climbing over you until his knee is pressed against your core, and the only thing in your field of vision is him.

“Johnny,” you try to say, but it’s getting hard to think, with the way you’re being squeezed in a corner, this hunk of a man of pure muscle pressing against you like a weighted blanket, kissing you like you were a drop of water in the desert and he was a parched man drinking you for his salvation. You feel his excitement pressed against your thigh, and it gives you enough lucidity to try again. “Johnny,” you gasp out again, “aren’t we going a little fast?”

He laughs instead, choosing to focus on the side of your mouth, pressing fervent little kisses down your neck before starting to suckle the delicate skin over where your clavicle is. “I can go as slow as you’d like, bun.” He takes the spot an inch next to the previous one into his mouth and sucks again, this time more forcefully, marking you, and oh God you’re going to have to conceal it before work tomorrow, unless you can find a turtleneck to wear–

The cab driver clears his throat, and you notice that the car is stopped in front of a small apartment complex. Johnny says a cordial thanks as he pulls you out of the car and throws another twenty on the backseat, before wrapping his arm around your shoulders and taking all of the thinking out of the equation as he walks you to the entry.

His flat is pretty well furnished, all things considered, but he doesn’t give you enough time to observe the deco as he presses you against the door and slides his hand under your leggings.

“Got me starin’ at that ass the second you walked in, best fuckin’ thing I’ve seen in months, d’ye realize that, bonnie?” he breathes out against your ear as his entire palm cups your sex, and you can only whine as you press your forehead into the crook of his neck. “And by how wet this pussy is, I think you liked starin’ at me, too.”

“You are–” you say, but he curls his middle finger in, spreading your lips and spreading the wetness to your clit, making you choke on your words, “-very nice to stare at.”

“Yeah?” you hear the grin in his voice.

“Mmhm,” you nod, as he keeps the back and forth of his finger, never dipping in too far, just keeping you hungry for more.

“Then how’d ye like to stare down at me as I taste this wet cunt of yours?” he purrs in your ear as he stops moving completely, letting the words process.

Brain.exe has stopped functioning.

Had you ever had a boyfriend willing to speak filth like that to you when you were down to do the deed, maybe you would’ve gotten enough practice to know what to answer something sensible and intelligible to that, but as it stands, all you can muster is a very dumb-sounding “Huh?” as you stare back at him.

And that, apparently, is the funniest thing in the world to him, because he dips his head down and laughs, almost like a boyish giggle. Not only does that not stop him from kneeling in front of you, but it also somehow gives him more confidence to keep talking like that.

“How about you look down into my eyes as I eat out your pretty little pussy and make you come around my tongue, how’s that sound?” His baby blues bear no trace of maliciousness, no trace of a joke, as his fingers hook around the waistband and trace it around your stomach. You have to make a very conscious effort not to suck it in immediately in preparation for the letdown, but he doesn’t pull them down yet, only moving his hand alongside the edge. Your silence as you try to process what is happening only seems to spur him on instead. “In fact, how about you close your eyes, I close mine, and you hold my head close as I devour you, would you let me do that, pretty girl?”

“I’m not-” you can’t think of any way to properly let him down, not when he looks up with such pleading eyes, so the words stumble out gracelessly. “I’m sweaty, you don’t wanna–”

But he interrupts as he pulls your leg closer by gripping your thigh and squishing it against his cheek “But I do.” He inhales deeply, and your own breath shakes at the sight of how blissed out he already looks. “God, I want it. Let me have this.”

A voice somewhere inside yells at you that this has to be some sort of weird fetish, and that he most certainly won’t be having the same aura of desperation around him tomorrow, when post-coital rationale shows up and he sees your body past the veil of lust, but for now, you think that getting some with Johnny cannot be that bad compared to any one of your past encounters. Might as well enjoy it when you still can.

You wrap your hand around the one he still has around your waistband, and see his face positively light up as you softly caress his cheek.

In the end, you’re the one that pleads.

“Johnny, please.”

Your pants are off you and your leg is over his shoulder before you realize what is happening.

The feel of his warm tongue against your slit makes any thought, any doubt, any fear positively vanish, and the content sigh that he lets out as he licks at you is the same sigh as finally removing a bra at the end of a long day, it’s the sigh of laying down carelessly onto a soft bed after standing up for hours, it’s the sigh of the first bite of the best meal a man has after starving for weeks.

It should be awkward the way his arm wraps around your thigh and sinks into the softness of your stomach, using it to pin you up as he uses his other hand to spread you out enough for him to work his jaw the same way he did when he was making out with you in the car… Yet it’s not. It’s natural, the way his hand squeezes you as he licks, and sucks, and kisses around your pussy, unhurried yet passionate, languidly but firmly, pressing his tongue in, licking around your lips, and maddeningly avoiding the place you wanted him to touch most.

“Johnny,” you moan as he grazes his teeth around your sensitive nub in response. You almost buck out of his hold, but he’s firmly keeping you in place. “Please, don’t tease.”

He hums in response and dives back in, eyes fluttering closed as he ignores your whines. Every time his tongue or lips graze your clit, he works his mouth the opposite way, holding your thigh harder and pressing his palm up as he counters your hip movements with a clever swipe of the tongue. It’s absolutely maddening. “Johnny, please!”

He chuckles as he pulls back, an obscene string of spit lengthening as he pulls back, only breaking when he runs his tongue against his reddened, swollen lips. “Thought ye’ wanted me ta’ go slow, bun.” His eyes sparkle with challenge, but you can also discern a veil of unhidden desperation, of waiting for you to give the go-ahead for him to let loose.

“I’m fine with faster–” you start, but the words dissolve into a barely restrained moan as he hikes your leg up more, getting you closer to him, and immediately singling onto your neglected clit.

His forehead rests onto your belly now, and if you had more than two functioning neurons you’d wonder how he is that he’s breathing, but his hums and moans let you know that he’s perfectly content burrowing his nose in your pussy, nudging at your clit with the tip of it as he licks you with all the dedication you’ve never been shown from a man of his caliber.

He builds it up, and soothes it down, knowing exactly when to put more pressure, or when to teasingly swirl his tongue around your entrance, or to lave broad strokes of his tongue, so much so that the knee that’s not hooked over his shoulder almost gives out on a particularly forceful suck of your clit.

“Easy there,” he groans almost petulantly, as if you’re interrupting him. “Can’t have you fallin’ over when I’m not done wit’ ye.”

“My legs are gonna give out,” you say honestly, trying to catch your breath and avoid having the perfect man at your feet steal it again. “You’re a bit too good at this.” He grins up at you, “Am I?” and you want to give you a playful swat, but instead decide on carding your fingers through his now disheveled mohawk. “Guess the mess on my face speaks for itself… Shall we take this to the bedroom?”

You throw a glance around the apartment, assessing your options. “Couch is closer.” His smile is blinding. “I like how ye’ think.”

It’s now the second time he surprises you by scooping your legs from under you and picking you up like he couldn’t wait any longer and that carrying you bridal-style was the only way he could think of moving you. You yelp out a protest but he swallows it with another hungry kiss, shamelessly smearing your own wetness over your cheek as he walks you both to the couch.

You sink into the cushions where he places you gently without so much as a grunt of effort, and oh God, there they are, the standards are rising.

You reach over to pull him closer as he straightens up, but he only gives you a peck on the lips in return, like he hadn’t been kissing you sloppily the entire time.

“Come back,” you whine, hoping you can get it done before he comes back to his senses, like they all do, but he just smiles and kneels between your feet, hands pressing your thighs apart. The squelch of your lips parting should be embarrassing were he not looking up at you like you were the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, eyes full of adoration, like a child staring up at the full moon on full display on a clear night’s skies. Maybe you are his moon, his goddess, judging by the lust-clouded look directed at you.

“I did say I was gonna make you come on my face,” he says lowly, the gravel in his voice making you squirm as he places a trail of kisses up your thigh. “And I intend to keep that promise.”

With that, he dives in again, using his forearms to pin your legs open on the couch and his fingers to tease around where his tongue can’t reach. You mewl when you feel his tongue at your entrance, circling it around it briefly before delving in as deep as he could, his right hand stroking your clit rhythmically. The fact that he’s so good at somehow playing all your buttons like a maestro directing an orchestra has you thinking that he must be some sort of womanizer, some freak who does this kind of thing every night, but then his lips wrap around your nub and he gives a firm, long suck, and any restriction that you could’ve conjured up simply vanishes. Your thighs want to close around his head, but you can’t move under the iron grip he has on you.

You fist his hair more forcefully than necessary, and he looks up, wet eyelashes framing his beautiful eyes as he hums in response.

“Please,” you moan, and he hums affirmatively again, closing his eyes to focus on licking and suckling harder. He heard you, he simply doesn’t seem to care. “Johnny.”

“What,” he asks, voice muffled and why is this so hot?

“I need… I need,” you whine, unable to string the words together, and desperately trying to buck your hips under him, for lack of strength to actually close your thighs how you want to.

That seems to get his attention, and he chuckles, before pulling back with a gentle kiss on your mound. “Guess you’ll have to keep tryin’, pet,” he sussurs, a condescending pat on your thighs before he dives in slower than before.

Oh, the absolute asshole. Now he wants you to work for it?

You think that doing the opposite, relaxing your thighs open and letting him go to town however he wanted would help, but he seems hell-bent on riling you up every once in a while, getting you closer and closer with each lave of his tongue over your poor, overstimulated clit, but never enough to actually push you over the edge.

After what seems like an eternity, and almost, almost starting to think that this was a mistake, halfway ready to let him do this thing before your hip starts to cramp up, you feel a finger nudge at your entrance.

“Fucking finally–” you start, ready to curse him out, but he’s faster than you can think in your blissed-out state, and he slides a second finger alongside the first one, immediately zeroing in on that spot that makes you go cross-eyed and buck under his hold.

“Thassit– there you go, pretty girl,” he murmurs against your clit, and oh, okay, maybe you were closer than you thought, because the rhythmic curl of his fingers doesn’t need to last long before you’re off like an arrow, back arching and thighs squeezing, coming harder than you ever thought was possible. If he were any less skilled at making you completely lose the ability to think, you’d maybe notice that you’d managed to close your thighs almost completely around his head, but he wasn’t, so you don’t, twitching helplessly in the aftershocks of the most wonderful orgasm a man had ever given you.

Limbs that somehow still belong to your body hang uselessly off the side of the couch, and you struggle to catch your breath. You blink lazily, noticing him smugly wipe his face with the back of his hand, his half lidded eyes not any less blissed-out than yours.

You didn’t believe a man like this ever existed, until now. It aches that this might not be something that would last, so you make grabby hands at him, unable to find the will to speak just yet.

He laughs softly and gently grabs your arms, kissing from your knuckles slowly up your arm, to the crook of your neck. The patience he has is almost inhuman, as he takes the time to let you regather your senses, matching the marks he made earlier on the other side of your neck. You cup your hand around his head in response, and he smiles at you.

“Ye’ with me, bun?”

“Mmhm.”

“That slow enough fer’ ye’?” He holds himself up, an inch fron your face, and you reach up to kiss him.

“I’m gonna kill you dead,” you mutter against his lips, and he chuckles.

“Let me at least fuck you properly, first,” he whispers, and you notice that he’s long since unbuttoned his pants. You barely get a view of the massive size of him over your belly as he holds himself in his hand, large palm not enough to cover the whole length of him as he strokes himself, angled in such way that his tip rubs against your clit on each downstroke. The word “Please,” is not even halfway out of your mouth when he sinks into you in one swift motion, the rest dissolving into a long, drawn-out moan.

“Fuck-” he grunts, “so tight, cannot believe it.”

He guides one of your legs to wrap around him, keeping it flush against his body with his elbow as his palm grips your ass tightly, the other holding him against the backrest, forearm near your head as he pulls you closer for a sloppy kiss as he starts rolling his hips. You moan into his mouth and he swallows them greedily, leveraging each trust of his hips with a pull with his hand, helping you move in tandem with him, readjusting when your thigh threatens to slip out of his hold. The slaps of his pelvis to yours should sound obscene, his hard muscles hitting against your soft, jiggly skin, but his groans into your mouth are like music to your ears, the fact that he’s vocal about it has you almost reaching your peak again in no time, but he seems to sense it, and slows down immediately.

You try to kiss him harder, but he makes a small noise of protest, muttering something that sounds vaguely like “no, let me, let me just–” and you want to ask what he wants to do, to help him, but he instead reaches down both hands to grab your hips and pull you off the backrest. You yelp as your ass suddenly hangs in the air, his cock speared inside you the only secure point as he pulls you halfway off the couch, but he directs you firmly, “Here, around me,” helping you wrap your legs tightly as he starts thrusting again, harder than before.

“Oh, God, oh God,” you flail around, but each thrust in pushes your back into the cushions, and he reaches behind his back to hold your feet in his hand as he presses his palm near your head for support, spewing more filth as he does.

“That’s it, hold me tight, squeeze my cock like ye’ almost squeezed mah heid off earlier, huh, bonnie? Show me what those thighs can do, fuck-”

Your whole body is jiggling with each thrust, and you don’t have it in you to even feel self-conscious with the way each time he fills you, the tip of his cock nudges against the spongey spot inside, making you mewl in tempo with his relentless rhythm.

“Johnny, Johnny,” you moan, and he bends over to kiss you again, swallowing his name like communion while you chant it like a prayer.

“Don’t give up now, bonnie, keep squeezin’, fuck, I can feel ye’, yer so close.”

You try to get some leverage with your upper body, trying to push yourself up the cushions, but his cock suddenly slips out of you as your thighs almost give out, and an apology is already halfway out your mouth when he kneels back down and burrows between your legs, tongue first with a rushed “Need ta’ taste us, fuck, both of us, together-”

One hand wraps around your hip and over your pelvis, reaching up to knead desperately at your stomach, to pull you closer or push you away, you can’t tell, the other pulling your lips apart to settle his entire lower face against your pussy firmly– before letting go as he starts humming.

Your thighs are free to squeeze around his ears, and he nods encouragingly as he keeps licking, and then you hear it: the sounds of wet stroking. You don’t see him fisting his cock, but you hear it, fast and desperate. As your hand tangles in his hair to pull him closer, and another hum– no, another moan vibrates through your core, it’s the last thing you hear before you’re absolutely gone, gasping out a curse as you tense up in his hold, trembling as you come.

It’s even more intense than the first one, and as you buck out of his hold, he stands up shakily, his hand moving faster and faster around his cock, the angry red of his tip at the same level as your face. You gesture for him to sit down, trying to signal to him that you want to reciprocate despite the post-orgasmic haze and exhaustion, but he shakes his head, and, seconds later, you feel warm wetness land on your belly and slowly trickle down as he moans your name when he comes.

You feel like you still have to give something back, and, when he slumps down next to you with a content sigh, you climb over to place a delicate kiss on the tip of his cock, letting out a huff of laughter when it twitches under your touch.

“Ye’ absolute menace,” he whispers fondly as he pulls you up and tips his body to the side to lie down, using his legs to push you up halfway over him, trapping you between his body and the cushions, yet protectively shielding you from falling over. You place another kiss on his stomach, and you see his abs tense under your touch as your warm breath moves his hairs as you hover for a second, before deciding to shift up and use his pectorals as a cushion. He hums softly as his arm wraps around under yours, reaching to pull the plaid off the back of the couch and settle it around you both. Ticklish, eh? That’s a piece of information best stored for later.

You’re still breathless, absolutely done for. God, best decision of your life, going to the gym. “Now what?” you can’t help but ask. It’s the same fear that always creeps up, the fear that he got to try out a fantasy, and now that he was done with it, he had no need to want to continue anything possibly serious. Not that eating a girl out on a first date, if you could even call it a date, was a sign of a one-night stand, you can’t help but feel awkward and insecure now that it’s all done, despite the comforting cuddle.

He chuckles in response, that same chuckle from earlier in the day, a What a silly question chuckle. Like he’d read into your thoughts and insecurities and found them absolutely laughable.

“Same time at the gym, tomorrow? I want you to squeeze my head off next time.”

“Next time, huh?”

He pulls your leg over his pelvis, trapping his still half-mast cock between his belly and the crook of your knee, hand firmly wrapped to shift you up, almost completely on top of him. When both of you are comfortable and you start feeling the tendrils of sleep pull you deeper, he gives a last, playful squeeze to your ass.

“Next time.”

#cc writes #soap #soap x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #fat reader #chubby reader #john soap mactavish x fat reader #pwp #call of duty #fanfiction #call of duty fanfiction #cod fanfic #cod #plus size reader #john soap mactavish #my man knows how to eat pussy and he ENJOYS it #ignore my attempt at writing his scottish accent i tried okay?

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