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socksracoon10 · 15 days ago

Note

p2 where the argument turns into a makeout sesh yes or yes?

𝐇𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐮𝐧 (𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐)

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: (𝘠/𝘕) (𝘓/𝘕) 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘫𝘰𝘣 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯… 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢 𝘵𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘭𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴? Pairing: Carlos Sainz Jr. x F!Reader, Charles Leclerc x F!Reader, Max Verstappen x F!Reader A/N: I AM SO HAPPY SOMEONE ASKED FOR A PART 2 BECAUSE THAT'S ALL I COULD THINK ABOUT SINCE I POSTED THE FIC YESTERDAY... anon thank you I was over here giggling and kicking my feet reading your ask... uh halfway through writing this I realized I got carried away it's MUCH longer than I intended LMFAO Read The First Part: Hit and Run

𝘾𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙤𝙨 𝙎𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙯 𝙅𝙧.

"Hey man, next time you race try not to kill the other drivers," (Y/N) (L/N) sunk down into the P3 chair next to Sainz, who had just won the race. He glanced over at her with a scowl, clearly wanting to say some nasty things if it wasn't for the million cameras in the cooldown room. She shifted in her seat, stretching her arms as she watched the race's highlights on the screen besides her. Carlos and her both had a spectacular race, considering they had started from the bottom of the grid more or less. She knew she had the skills to get to the podium, but she was surprised at the fact that Carlos had managed to somehow win the race from nowhere. It didn't seem like his normal self and she wondered what could've motivated him to actually drive good for once.

"Next time you race, try not to be cocky and drag other drivers down," Carlos grumbled, his voice was muffled due to the rag that was currently soaking up all of the sweat on his face. She glared at him, holding an accusatory finger to the air before Max had settled down in the P2 chair. He shook Carlos's hand, before waving at (L/N). The room was silent, spare Max rambling on about what he saw during the race. As Max continued to talk, (L/N)'s eyes flickered occasionally onto Carlos, wondering what was going through his mind. She was definitely in the wrong, but her ego wouldn't handle that and she needed to tear him a new one once they were done with all the celebrations. She always hated this circuit anyway.

"She's not supposed to be here, mate," Charles giggled, jerking his thumb towards the woman that was angrily storming into Ferrari's garage. Carlos looked up from where he sat with a groan escaping his lips.

"She isn't," Carlos stood up, taking the cap off his head to run a hand through his hair, "I suppose you've come to apologize for your behavior this weekend? Or last weekend? Or the many weekends before that?" "Apologize?" (L/N) snorted, rolling her eyes, "I've come to ask about what you said at the press pen!"

Charles, sensing the tension between the two, gently ushered the two into Carlos's driver's room before shutting the door. The last thing Ferrari needed after this lovely weekend was to deal with the drivers having to go through PR training once again, especially with the amount of times Carlos had been talking shit about (Y/N) (L/N). Carlos had stood by the door, arms crossed as he gestured with his hands for her to begin whatever stupid argument she had managed to pull out of her ass this time.

"You remember what you said?" She growled, and when she saw him shake his head, her nostrils flared, "You literally told the press, 'sometimes, I like to put people in the places they belong and that's precisely what I did with (L/N)', are you kidding me?"

"You should be happy," Carlos scoffed, "I could've said way worse. Besides, I was giving you a taste of your own medicine. You said after qualifying yesterday that even with a million practices, I'd still fumble."

"Yeah, because you do! You're inconsistent as hell and that's why-"

"And yet who won the race today starting behind you." Carlos interrupted her. She closed her mouth, chest heaving. Carlos could see the gears turn in her head, she was trying so hard to come up with something. He had a smug smile on his face and somehow this was more victorious than winning the Grand Prix.

"It doesn't matter if you win today or not, you won't be driving for Ferrari soon, anyway," She spat. She smirked at the way his face fell, her arms crossed with her head tilted upwards. That cocky look on her face that always drove him wild.

"You're such an asshole," Carlos seethed, and before she could respond with a snarky remark, his lips crashed onto her. His hands came to hold onto the sides of her face, pulling her as close to him as he could. He pulled away for a brief second to take a quick breath and noticed the way her eyes widened, "Did you just kiss me? Listen here buddy, I'll have you know that-" Her words died down when she noticed Carlos's eyes flicker to her lips. God, her absolute hatred for him made her forget how charming he truly was. She wouldn't admit to it, though. Not now nor ever. Right now, all they needed was to blow off this steam. She grabbed onto his neck, pulling him down to another searing kiss, eyes closed as their teeth crashed into one another. She tugged his hair and he squeezed her waist, both of them realizing that feelings may not exist at the moment, it was all about just shutting each other up.

"I hate you," She murmured before going in for another kiss.

"I hate you more," His lips attached to her neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses that were sure to bruise her.

"Well, I hate you the most, stop trying to be better than me." She snapped in a strained voice and he groaned out loud, pulling back to stare at her,

"How much money do I have to pay for you to shut up?"

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝙇𝙚𝙘𝙡𝙚𝙧𝙘

Charles didn't win the next race, unfortunately. He was a bit happy that he didn't DNF, but the fact that the winner of the race was none other than his sworn enemy did little to comfort him. He glanced over to Max who was at P2, and looked around to the room to make sure that rat wasn't lurking nearby.

"W-What was the gap between you and her?" Charles asked. He knew asking would literally do him 0 help, but he couldn't stop himself from wanting to know.

"I want to say around a good 20 seconds or so? Maybe a bit more, I wasn't too sure," Max responded, watching Charles sink deeper in his seat with a look of despair. He gulped, staring aimlessly onto the wall in front of him. How was she that fast? What had she done with the car overnight?

"I'm sorry for (Y/N) for the next few races," He heard her, loud and clear, as she entered the cooldown room, mocking him for what he said last weekend. Charles instantly glared at her, not even bothering to hide his true intentions. No amount of PR training could hide his disgust for her. She settled into her seat, relishing in the feeling of being the race winner.

"You do anything with your car?" Charles grunted, and she shook her head,

"No, no. I just have more skill," She flashed him a smile, before getting up once again to grab a bottle of water. Max, for once in his life, decided to be quiet in the room and see the argument follow through. He'd heard Charles tell him multiple times about how (L/N) got on his nerves, but seeing it in person would be amazing.

"I doubt that. You used to place below me during the races," Charles took a sip of his water.

"What are you insinuating then?" She snarled, and Max glanced over to the camera crew, signaling for them to leave. While this would do numbers for the ratings and news headlines, they were promised some share of money if they got their asses out.

"Um guys, I don't think we should be fighting, we have to cooldown anyway..." Max began, but his words fell onto deaf ears as Charles stood up from his seat to stalk over to where she stood.

"Maybe you'd be more likeable if you were honest with yourself, sometimes cheaters-" Charles began, standing his ground when she yelled back,

"So you think I cheated in this race? Seriously? That's your argument?"

"Well, we do know that last weekend there was water in your tires," Charles snapped,

"That wasn't my fault? Stop being such a sore loser, Leclerc. Maybe this is why you haven't won a championship yet."

Max's jaw dropped as he watched the words fly out of her mouth. Charles, in the meantime, tossed his water bottle to the ground and stepped closer to her with his finger in her face,

"At least I raced clean without losing grip when I tried to overtake someone. You just got lucky today, that's it."

"Luck, really? Yeah, tell me about your luck when you're fighting more with your teammate than with the other drivers on the grid during the race." She hissed.

Was it the air? Was it the fact that the adrenaline was still high after the race, or was it the fact that despite not being able to stand each other they were only centimeters apart. It didn't take long before Charles's hand dug into her scalp, pulling her head back ever so slightly as he kissed her. Seeing this as another challenge, (L/N) brought Charles down to the ground, both of them fighting to be on top while still furiously kissing each other. His hands gripped her waist and she had her arms around his neck, dragging him towards her as they rolled off of each other on the ground, tongues practically in each other's mouths with the intention of wanting to ruin each other. She scratched him, he yanked her hair, she punched his chest and he twisted her arm and yet their lips never stopped wanting to consume the other. It wasn't until (L/N) pulled away to breathe again did they both realize that Max was still there with a very shocked expression.

"I'm... I'm just going to leave and make sure uh no one else enters this room but uh guys you might want to... put yourself together before we get on the podium," Max had one hand covering his eyes as he walked out of the room.

"Do you think he's gonna tell people we just made out?" She asked, propping herself onto her elbows.

"I doubt it," Charles responded with a roll of his eyes, "I mean, who would go and loudly state that Charles Leclerc was kissing you of all people? I wouldn't wish that upon my worst enemy."

He winced when her hand smacked the back of his head.

𝙈𝙖𝙭 𝙑𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙣

Max never forgot. He never forgot anything. He had made a promise to himself that he would wipe that smirk off her face and he intended to keep it. Even with all the setbacks that he was facing this particular weekend. Back to back penalties, a grip drop and on top of all this, a very haughty (Y/N) (L/N) purposely bumping into him on the paddock with a bright smile,

"Have fun! I've always wondered how the view from the back would look like for you," She chirped, speeding past him on a scooter. Max's jaw went taut, and he did little to hide his anger for the rest of the day. He was going to make sure that the race tomorrow would haunt her for the rest of her life. She had chosen the wrong person to mess with and he was determined to prove it to her.

Max was on a different level during the race, he was unbelievably fast and it surprised everyone but mainly (Y/N) (L/N).

Her radio went off, and someone buzzed through, "Max is currently at P6, he's coming up behind you."

"What the hell?" Her voice was a bit quiet, still in disbelief at the fact that Max was now right behind her, "How does he do this?"

And before she can react further, she sees him overtake her as he flashed his middle finger at her before speeding off. That got her going, and despite the radio telling her to calm down and control her motions, she began to chase after Max. Her ego was bruised but surely she could redeem herself. Unfortunately, she lost grip and her car went spiraling out of control towards the barriers.

"A safety car will be deployed soon, Max," GP informed the driver.

"Who crashed?"

"(Y/N) (L/N)."

Max couldn't help the giggle that escaped his lips, and to quote Alonso he merely stated, "Karma..." before turning his radio off for the rest of the race.

By the time all the celebrations were done, Max walked past (L/N)'s garage and he noticed the way she was pouting, legs crossed as she was busy texting somebody. Her fingers flew across the screen, and it almost looked like she was about to cry. Max did feel a bit bad for her, he knew she had worked to get to where she was - she was after all the only female driver on the grid so she was talented. He walked over to her in the best hopes that he could try to make her feel better, I mean he wasn't a monster.

"Oh, look who's here, the ugly ass sloth who can't mind his own business," She sneered, crossing her arms as she looked up at him. Yeah, that was it. Max didn't want to comfort her anymore, he was going to stoop down to her level.

"You know, maybe if you learned to shut your mouth and admit your mistakes, you could've actually done well in the race today." He scoffed, towering over her. She stood up, going back to texting her friend with a scowl on her face.

"Texting your mechanics to help salvage what's left of the car?" Max snorted.

"No, I'm texting my friend about how some douchebag keeps talking to me like I even asked for him. Like why the hell are you even here? Go back to your own garage, asshole." She snapped, pocketing her phone. Max threw his backpack onto the ground besides her and took a step forward,

"You know I was going to be nice to you-"

"You said Karma over the radio, I heard that shit clearly," She hissed, stepping closer as well.

"I said it in the moment, but right now I was going to be nice. I was going to comfort you. You are talented, you're not a shit driver like I said you were, but God... your ego. Your stubbornness. Your... your absolute pathetic move to shift the blame onto someone else for your wrong doings. Get over yourself, you don't know shit about your own car and yet you always blame me for something during the race!"

"My car is completely fine before you wrecked it!"

"Oh, so that DNF last weekend was my fault? You rammed into me! Let's not forget that!" Max yelled, glancing over to the new shiny car that would be in use next weekend.

"Oi, eyes on me," She snapped her fingers in his face, grabbing his jaw to turn it to her, "Don't stare at my winning car."

Max yanked her hand from his jaw, glaring at her. Oh, he hated her. He hated her so much. Even when he wanted to be nice to her, she always found a way to ruin it. How was it possible for a woman as beautiful and genuinely talented as her to somehow always end up as the most annoying, stuck-up little piece of shit that he had ever seen? Within seconds, he had her against her "amazing" car with his lips onto her. She gasped in surprise, eyes darting to the corner of the garage to make sure all the mechanics had left, but considering the way Max was making her melt in his kiss, her worries soon faded away. Max had one hand pressing her down against the car, her back hit the edge of the halo and she groaned in pain, causing her to arch into him as he deepened the kiss. Her hands came to grip onto his shoulders as she bit down on his bottom lip, and she could feel him smiling against her.

"I wish you were like this every weekend," He whispered, delving into another kiss. She wrapped her hand in his hair, tugging him gently away from her,

"I hope you realize this is a one time occurrence. I have standards," She smirked.

"They must be pretty low then like your racing skills," Max snapped, kissing her once more as he felt her smirk fade against his lips. He really did mean it when he said he was going to wipe it off her face, he just never imagined it to be in this way.

"Shut up," She mumbled, "Just shut up."

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pedge-page · 5 months ago

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Wait ok hear me out. Bored preggo wife starts reading smut and finds she really enjoys a breeding kink/men getting real nasty and aggressively talking about breeding their woman. So she asks Joel to try it and when he does, she’s like grossed out “uhh… nevermind” and he’s so fuckin frustrated and blue balled 😂

Joel Dealing with Preggo Wife: Role Play Me Not

Notes: Thank you for your patience with these requests lately, this one was from March and I've been thinking about it ever since!

warnings: almost smut, lots of dirty talk and degrading language, and usual shennanigans with these two

18+ ONLY

- - - -

It’s pretty late, Joel’s body is wracked, and nothing feels better than the foam mattress bed he’s curled up on. You had a pretty good day, judging by your happy soft hums and scrolling aimlessly on your phone. Hopefully whatever nonsense thing you’re gonna purchase with his card and surprise his doorstep tomorrow morning won’t be too harrowing, but for now, he’ll live with it if it means some rest.

But your incessant giggles, matched with the way you’re shrinking under your brightly lit phone reading something so furiously just begs Joel to ask:

“What are you doin’?”

“Nothin!” You quip quickly, rotating best you can so he can’t see the obvious thing you’re hiding on your phone.

“Okay.” He tosses the cover over his shoulder and presses his head back into the pillow again to close his eyes.

Obviously not the answer you wanted, so you loudly snort with your fake ass ‘Tee Hee!’ again because this motherfucker better take the god damn hint.

He sighs. “What.”

“Hmm? Nothin!”

Joel squeezes his eyes shut, gritting his teeth. You can’t see his face from your side, but even if you could, he doesn’t think it would deter you.

You clear your throat before uttering your loudest and most obnoxious giggle.

“JUST—!” Tossing the covers down and rolling to his back, he remembers to take a breath, channeling his calm bear voice. “—just show me already. Please.” He’s exhausted, rubbing his face with both hands before holding out one palm behind him for you to place your phone.

You excitedly shove it in his grasp, and Joel rolls over to see. His eyes take a moment to adjust to the brightness, so he collects his reading-glasses from the tableside and props them upon his nose.

Its quiet for a solid minute, and your heart is racing as he stare at his broad back, the fabric of his shirt all stretched tight to accentuate that massive man of man that is your manly man—

He rolls back over with a questionable uncertainty, fear and paralysis mixed with concern and shock.

You’re giddily nodding your head, lips tucked under your teeth from the excitement. “Can we do that?”

He opens his mouth but no words come out. He doesn’t even know where to begin.

“This is—uh. you like…this?”

“Well I don’t know, but I wanna give it a try…”

He scratches his skull with two fingers, hoping it’ll dig deep enough to itch the bad feeling he has in his brain. “I don’t know, baby, It’s a bit … much.”

“But you call me your pretty slutty wife sometimes! It’s not much different!”

He glances back at the vivid words on the screen. It is VERY much different than that. But you put on your famous puppy pout, with those big round gleaming eyes, trembling fishy lips staring up at him, topping it off by squishing your tits together so they’re bursting out of the nightgown and smashing into his chest.

That’ll do it.

He shrugs, chucking his bifocals behind him with renewed energy arousing his body, especially down south. He gets to his knees, pulling your cover off from your lap and tracing his big hands over the soft expanse of your thigh like a new toy. you bite your lips, shouldering off your spaghetti straps so your tits are close to being popped out. He rolls the soft fabric of your gown up your growing belly and presses his lips against the swell. “Shit, that’s what I like to see. Gonna be a little fuck toy whore for Daddy to play with?”

“Ah…time out.” You hold your hands in a T formation. He stops rubbing and looks down towards your face.

“Uh—yes?”

“I don’t like whore.”

“Ah okay—Daddy’s fuck toy?”

“Ok that’s—mmm.”

“What? No good?”

“It’s just ok. We’ll work on that. You can keep going.”

He shakes his head a little but resumes his gentle ghost of his fingers and lips, cascading lower until the scratchy prickle of his beard is at your naval. “Bred ya nice n’ good huh? Little breedin’ stock just f’me—“

“Oh hold on.”

“What.”

“Breeding ‘stock’? What am I, chicken soup?” You chuckle.

He purses his lips. “I don’t know, it was in the damn fic you made me read!”

“Okay okay, sheesh!” You toss your hands up.

“Can I please keep goin now?”

You nod, and he commences lower.

“Body was made for breeding. Now spread those petals—“

“Oh what I’m a flower now?”

“Damnit, Baby! Am I doin this or not??” He curses.

You go quiet and nod again, shrinking in against the headboard.

“Just about had it with ya whinin’, baby. I should tie you up like the naughty cow you are—“

“Farm metaphor again?”

“N BREED YOU—“ he seethes, gripping your thighs and hitching them around his hips so you can feel his bulge press into your core. “Breed you over and over again, like the dumb little cum dump you deserve—“

“Ugh hold up this position isn’t comfortable I need ta—“ you wiggle out of his grasp and begin trying to alleviate the pressure your baby is putting on your spine. Joel all but abandons holding your legs as he sits on his knees in front of you with his thumb and finger pressed tightly into his eye sockets.

You wiggle and roll, unable to find a good position to sink yourself comfortably. The bed shifts with each turn, and Joel is damn near done role playing with you and about to just fuck you with your face down in the mattress whether you wanted to or not when—

“Okie! I’m ready Daddio!” You announce.

You’re in the exact same position.

“Are we good to continue?” He asks slowly, his frustration being held at bay along with his hard cock that’s begging for some action finally.

You nod.

He finally tugs his dick out and positions it at your entrance, spitting onto your slit. “Now shut up, take this fucking cock, and let me fuck my seed into you cuz that’s all ya good for—“

“Ya know what.” You wave your hand over this whole scene. “I’m done. This is … no. Nevermind, I’m done with this. M’ready for bed now.”

You slap his cock away like it’s a needy hand and roll to your side, slinking the cover over your shoulder again and turning off your light with a little grin.

Joel just falls back on his haunches, his cheeks puffed red, balls swollen blue, fully awake all over, with a grumpy cat-worthy scowl etched into his face staring down at you.

- - - -

Taglist:

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planete777 · 1 year ago

Text

FREAK・⁠｡♪ LN4

( lando norris x fem!reader )

IN WHICH. y/n is full of surprises and shows lando just how dirty she can be. (based on this ask)

WARNINGS. 18+, MINORS DNI, reader x brother'sbsf!lando, riding, mentions of sex toys, high hotness part 3464476, lando is lowkey in love with the reader, getting caught... but not really getting caught.

NOTE. my dearest anon requested and i HAD to write this. my last high!lando installment probably for a while because the summer is coming to an end 😭 i do have one more other fic coming tho, so stay tuned. anyways enjoy luvss <3 also credit to @lesbiacebian for the dividers.

"are you really slagging me off for your girlfriend?"

lando's voice is incredulous, syllables barely pristine as the weed in his head breaks down any cohesion left. the hand pinching the spliff falls to the bed as he sits up, staring at his unmoving best friend.

"she just texted me, i'm not gonna ditch her for you, lando, no offence."

"all taken," he grumbles, then moves to take a harsh inhale of his joint. he may be completely high out of his fucking wits, but he's certainly not pliable like that. he came to get so faded with his friend (and, second to name, supplier) that his brain would feel like it's being suspended over a grill and burned with smoke.

"well," lando sees him shrug half heartedly, "she's putting something on the line for her late night endeavours."

lando scoffs, taking another godforsaken drag. pussy, he thinks, he's getting fucking pussy.

"you're a nasty piece of shit, you know that?"

the boy ahead of him waves him off, "better start going mate, she'll be here any minute."

lando stares blankly at him for so long his eyes begin to unfocus, before he's shaking his head, sliding off the sheets. what a dickhead.

"fine whatever." he opens the door, taking an inhale and exhale of the joint wedged in his lips, and he descends the carpeted stairs with little sentience. his limbs feel dismembered and he can barely perceive the distance from on step to another, but he reaches the ground floor anyways, making his way to the living room.

he guessed he'd find her here, practically one with the couch and eyes welded to the tv screen glimmering with another uninteresting reality show.

the light's off, and considering he could barely walk in a straight line due to the blunt puffing out smoke from his mouth, he doesn't notice y/n turning towards him, pressing pause on the tv.

"lando, hey."

her voice is light, as if she's afraid of disturbing the night, and she swings her legs off the couch. lando subtly scrutinizes what she wears, a tight tank top, and equally as tight shorts, and he begins to feel blood rush to his dick.

"hey," he smirks with the blunt still in his mouth, and shuffles towards the now empty space beside the girl who had him thinking with his dick. he forces the thoughts away, he's not acquainted with the whole corruption kink thing, and y/n screams bloody virgin.

"what brings you here, high out of your mind?" she's staring intensely, as if a blink would make him vanish, grinning light-heartedly.

lando chuckles, taking a long drag, "your brother wanted to get laid, and i'm sure not a voyeurist."

even the thought of it makes y/n grimace, "point made," she curls her legs back unto the couch as lando's eyes follow her.

it's not long before the sound of the doorbell ringing shrills once, dragged until the duration of it could barely hit it being a nuisance. y/n's brother tumbles down the stairs, opening the door with much vigour before dragging her up the stairs with hurrief footsteps. the whole ordeal plays out with silence between y/n and lando, hearing the ruckus with barely concealed amusement, and is cut dead once the bedroom door slams.

"i do not want to hear all that," y/n groans, "his room is right above this one."

"happens when you're pussy whipped like him," lando huffs out a cloud of smoke, "forget who the fuck is around."

"you know you can... go back home," y/n's sceptical, and rightfully so because lando has no idea why he's staying. nevertheless, he makes up an incomplete incentive that sounded valid only in his head.

"i know, but i'm high as fuck and walking in this heat home... yeah no."

his neck flexes as he sucks in as much weed as he can, and y/n watched avidly. something about seeing lando at the mercy of his inhibitions, eyes so red that wherever he looks, he paints it crimson, and lips selling his soul away to the strings of smoke. he's too out if it to notice y/n's assessment, with his head sunken into the couch behind him, and it makes the girl laugh.

"you're gone, aren't you?"

lando does nothing but smirk affirmatively, before limply taking another drag.

"and i could definitely do with a bed to sleep on," he pushes a sound out of his throat, "your brother... fucker, he is."

"for sure," y/n agrees then shuffles to get up, patting lando's thigh. he flitters his eyes open in surprise, diluted, however, because of his lack of level headedness, "what?"

"just this once, i'll give you my bed."

"really?" the word is chipped between his teeth from the burn scarred into the back of his throat.

"yeah," she smiles. lando pretends he doesn't feel his heart grin with her.

"i'm feeling nice today."

he stands up, stretches and feels his joints scream out inexplicable noises. the bed seems like paradise now.

"oh mint, thank you."

receiving a hum in return, he follows the girl up the stairs, praying that his legs don't give way. his mind dozes off as they get to the landing, and it's only when he trails behind her inside, on autopilot, and she shuts the door, does his conscience focus like accomodating vision.

"i need to go the bathroom, one sec."

his mind has one whiplash after another as he process her rapid disappearance, before tuning back into the room. it's tame, like any young adult room would be, with half-wave plant bunting snaking around her room. her headboard, however, glows white, abd he figures it's from the leds stuck under the rim.

he walks up to the bedside tableand picks up a small framed picture of her and her brother. young, they were, standing side by side with identical sunglasses on. he smiles, then situates it back.

the drawer beneath is open, just enough for him to slip his hand through and open it, but of everything he could presume to find, he does not expect to meet a clear purple dildo, thicker and longer than biologically possible. he feels like there's a broken wire in his brain, hanging and tickling just where it triggers his dick to harden.

he doesn't know why he's enthralled by it, staring at the phallic toy as if it would magically display the images of it being pushed and pressed into y/n, but then he finds himself wishing so. corruption was never his thing, but now it doesn't have to be. because y/n is already debauched from the hot inside, to the deceiving out.

he stands there, idle, and it pushes a huff of laughter from behind him.

"you can get in the bed, lando," she pronounces like he's a formative infant. but he's not moving.

"what is this, y/n?"

he can't see her face fall, confused, but he hears it in the way she speaks, "what?"

then he's storming to her, standing just before her with a burning look. y/n's not stupid, can tell the way he's turned on but whatever he's seen, if not by the way his eyes flick down to her lips, then by the bulge that pokes her peripheral vision, and it's that her eyes widen in shock.

"oh fuck."

"oh fuck indeed," he takes a final drag before quelling it on the desk behind her, "who knew you were shoving 8 inch dildos up your pussy?"

y/n knows where to push his buttons, get the heat rising like a flood of lava just before it turns into a battle of who will give in first?

her arms are wrapping themselves around his shoulders, pulling him in, "and who knew," a hand, calculative and slow, slides down to press the hard on in his jeans, "you would get turned on by it?"

then he's kissing her, hard, wet, messy, with tongues and soft lips eager for each other like they were quenching years of thirst. lando takes everything that y/n gives him, lapping at her tongue and biting at her lips with unrestricted composure.

she's pushing him back, hands scrambling on his top to get it off, and when she does, gives him a final nudge to the chest that has him flying to the bed.

he smirks up at her, watching as she dwindles to nakedness and lando thinks that he can't be seeing this. y/n, in front of him, stripping as if it's a private show, with her brother just a few doors down. it's fucking filthy, and makes him hot all over.

"you gonna suck me off?"

he'd found a way, though he feels semi paralyzed, to rid himself of his jeans, slowly jerking his dick as precum begins to trickle down his skin.

"want to, but i need your dick inside me," y/n says, all breathy and pent up, causing lando to groan as she crawls her way up his thighs.

"fuck, you're gonna kill me." his heart is accelerating in his chest, the libido in him heightens as y/n chuckles at him and takes his dick out of his own hand and he feels completely brainless.

"you ready?"

all he can muster is a nod, and then hot fucking tightness. their moans are akin in volume, elastic and lewd, and as y/n slips further down, lando's dick feels completely rock hard and throbs as he swears every gallon of his blood pools at his cock.

"fucking hell, you're tight, y/n," his mouth feels wet and dry simultaneously and he squeezes his eyes shut as she begins to roll her hips and press down hard.

she bounces and grinds like she's meant for it, and lando can't process that sweet, innocent y/n is bouncing on his dick, squeezing him like she wants to keep him there.

his hands grip her ass, thrusting upwards to meet her hips and the cacophony of slapping skin snaps any vocal composure in him. lando moans like he's being eaten by pleasure itself and y/n grinds and grinds and grinds.

"fuck, lando," her head is thrown back like it's completely broken, and lando preens.

"you're so fucking good for me, y/n, keep going," he can't hold back, feels his hands grip her hips and her ass careening into his thighs with every bounce and, fuck, it's so dirty and so good.

y/n looks slutted out, debauched as she splits herself on his cock. it sends lando tipping over the edge, about to cum fast and deep, when a harsh knocking pounds into the door.

they both freeze, panting as sweat licks heat into their flesh.

"for fuck's sake, keep it down! some people are trying to sleep!"

it's shortly followed by angry footsteps and a slam of a door.

lando, still hard and pulsating in y/n's cunt, has a face of bewilderment, "shit— i forgot he was there."

y/n turns back, smirking, and slowly rolling her hips again, "and continue to do so. now fuck me, lando."

#‧₊˚✩彡 planete.thinks: high!lando #lando norris fic #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #lando norris x y/n #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one x reader #formula 1 #f1 imagine #f1 fic

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phoenixyfriend · 3 months ago

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Accountant of Theed

Read on AO3

After all is said and done, someone needs to balance these books, and nobody actually told the accounting department how they paid for this new hyperdrive. Mimi really hopes it's not a loan from the Hutts.

Disclaimer: I am not an accountant, but I work in an adjacent field (and have been considering getting a certification, but that's neither here nor there). While I did take some courses on it, I asked an Accounting Person to look over the excel sheet before I went forward with the rest of the fic to make sure it's internally consistent. Thank you to @gnomer-denois for confirming my balance on these works!

The reconciliation sheet does NOT follow contemporary guidelines in terms of format etc, but that is because it is:

In space! Standard practice differs from Modern United States or what have you.

Not the primary balance sheet, just the simplified version made to show to Queen Amidala.

If you'd prefer to view the Excel sheet in a more easily navigable form, there is a google drive link available. This is also your best option if using a screen reader.

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

Theed is safe. They are rebuilding. There is even financial support, aid, from the Republic.

It comes with strings attached. Oversight. Auditors.

Wouldn’t want Naboo to misuse funding after that nasty mistake with the Trade Federation, right? Sure, Naboo wasn’t the one at fault, but one can never be too careful...

Mimi, as an accountant for the government of Naboo, does not in fact want to commit fraud, or enable corruption, but the rolling audits do feel a little like the Republic is punishing them for getting invaded.

“Hey, boss?”

That tone. Mimi does not like that tone. “Please tell me it’s not another unauthorized purchase with a missing receipt. Which account did they pull from this time?”

“Um... we don’t know?”

Mimi gives them a moment. No elaboration is given.

“You don’t know?”

“We don’t know,” the younger employee repeats.

“What do you mean?” Mimi asks. “People charge things to accounts or cards. They forget to submit receipts. We hunt them down for receipts, and make sure nobody is skimming off the top. That’s how it goes. Unless this is a purchase on a personal and we need to reimburse—”

“Um, maybe?”

“In which—what? That’s just... okay. There’s a process for reimbursements. You aren’t following it, which means... what? What do you mean, you don’t know? Did they use cash, or pull from an account?”

The younger employee looks down at their datapad. Looks back up at her. Looks baffled and a little scared. “Um, it’s... we still don’t have a receipt, but we also don’t know where the money for it came from? But nobody’s put in a reimbursement request and I can’t imagine anyone on the mission had those funds on them, not even the Queen herself.”

“The money for what?”

“Um. It sort of just... showed up?”

“So, it’s some kind of gift?” Mimi presses.

“Too big,” the younger mumbles, refusing to meet her eyes. “It would have to be disclosed.”

“I am giving you five seconds—”

“It’s a hyperdrive!” they yelp.

“...Explain.”

“One of the mechanics was looking over the Royal Cruiser, and found that there was unrecorded repair work to the hyperdrive. The ship took enough damage during the escape that he wasn’t surprised, but then he noticed that it was from an earlier run of the part, and when he checked, the serial number was completely wrong. The hyperdrive was completely replaced.”

Mimi closes her eyes and takes a breath. “The mechanic doesn’t know?”

“He said there’s nothing in the records that matches it at all, and it’s a big enough part that there’s no way it would just slip through the cracks, not when it’s that expensive and going on the Royal Cruiser.”

“So,” Mimi says, “we have a part worth almost as much as the rest of the cruiser combined, that just... came out of nowhere, and nobody claiming for reimbursement.”

“Yes, ma’am. That’s what it looks like.”

Mimi has no interest in fraud.

“Find out who was piloting when Queen Amidala escaped, and see if they have any answers,” Mimi tells them. “If we can keep it to just the hangar staff without drawing in the Royal Retinue, it’ll be easier on all of us.”

“Here’s hoping, ma’am.”

(Continue on AO3)

#phoenix files #star wars #the phantom menace #original characters #naboo #accounting #Padme Amidala #Sabe #Tsabin #Anakin Skywalker #Obi-Wan Kenobi #Shmi does not appear but this is like half about her. and Qui-Gon. and Watto.#so #Shmi Skywalker #Qui Gon Jinn #Watto #receipt reconciliation

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nymphbnny · 1 year ago

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brat in pink II

────── toji fushiguro

⤷ mom’s bf!toji who catches you masturbating on facetime and decides to show you (both) who’s your real daddy.

tw: age gap (20s ; 40s) , toji is dating your mom (step cest??), slight masturbation, corruption kink, daddy kink, starts as hcs, oral sex (m. receiving), voyeurism (gojo on ft), ass fingering (lol), spanking, toji being mean and a perv, slight biting, breeding kink, squirting, reader goes dumb (hihi) MDNI (also wrote this at work so not proof read)

part I - part II

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ mom’s bf!toji who enjoys his time with you and your mother. he’s getting the best of both worlds, corrupting you to the fullest so you’d only beg him to fuck you. and you did.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ mom’s bf!toji who suddenly stops making advances to you, growing a liking to your mother. part of him still wanted to fuck your little cunt but your mother was taking all of his time and he wasn’t complaining. as evil and mean as he could get, he would make you hear your mother cry out his name as he fucked her in the next door bedroom.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ mom’s bf’toji who grows tired of your mom in a few weeks, his fondness of her being nothing more but an attraction to her lingerie, deciding to send you nasty pictures of his dick coated with precum. you’d clench your legs when you’d receive them, your clit throbbing at the thought of having him inside you.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ mom’s bf!toji who realizes that despite your desperate attraction to his you still went for gojo out of pettiness. you also made sure he’d hear how good he was making you feel when your mom wasn’t home. he’d scold you but you’d simply say: “you’re not my daddy. i can fuck whoever i want.”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ mom’s bf!toji who starts to grow annoyed at your mother’s clinginess and hints of marriage when all he wanted to do was breed your princess cunt.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ mom’s bf!toji who would grab your ass and even go as far as spanking it whenever he’d walk past you. you cute pink shorts were visibly showing the outline of your cunt and your cheeks.

he would slam his hips against your ass whenever you bent over to grab something, just to make you feel his hard cock pressing against his shorts. the scar on his lip would turn almost automatically when the dark spot between your short would begin to form.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ mom’s bf!toji who once woke up with his dick in your mouth while your mother was sleeping by his side, just to prove to him you were ready to risk it all just for a taste. she’s so corrupt, he’d think while pushing your head further down to take his dick down your throat.

“come to my room daddy,” you whispered giving his swollen mushroom tip kitten licks. your fingers wrapped around his shaft slowly squeezing him and dragging your hand up and down to tease him. toji’s face turned red as he thrusted his hips one last time, his dick hitting the back of your throat before dragging you to your room, muffling your moans and yelps with your pillows.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ mom’s bf!toji who accidentally walks in on you showering, catching you laid out in your bathtub, your legs hanging by its edges while you hold your phone up, clearly on face time with someone, your other hand playing with your pussy, ….

“you nasty bitch,” toji spat, picking you up easily, the water splashing everywhere. “trying to make me jealous?” he prompted you on your sink, gojo’s voice confused on the other end of the screen.

“t-toji what are you-“ you gasp once he pulls his pants down, his cock erect and pushing past your ring of muscles.

“yo what the fuck?!” gojo yells, clearly surprised that you were being fucked by the older man. toji pulled your thighs to his hips, pressing them firmly around him as he bullied his cock into you, whines and whimpers filling the bathroom.

“watch her, watch how drunk she gets on daddy’s cock,” he smirked holding the phone up against your shampoo bottle so gojo could witness everything.

you try to hide yourself by putting your face into the crook of his neck, but he wouldn’t let you, he pulled you by your jaw, his hands firmly, grabbing your chin and making you look at the camera as he fucked into you. you were blissful your eyes rolling back and your tongue lulling out of your mouth as his cock rubbed against your walls.

“daddy, ngh, stop,” you attempted to reach your hand to hold the phone and end the call, but deed down you didn’t want him to stop. you were quite quite that he was fucking you in front of gojo would couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, his hand making its way to his dick as he lied back and stroked his girth.

toji laughed and snickered as he looked at the boy at the end of the phone amused by how he was getting off to the sight of you going dumb and limp, your fingers digging into his toned back as you held onto him as much as you could. “like what you seeing huh?” toji groaned as he hit your cervix, your head thrown back against the mirror, “guess you don’t even know how to fuck her like this for you to be so turned on,” this was filthy, you were being humiliated in front of them, gojo’s perverted hand going faster on his cock.

toji pulled out, your hands instantly trying to grab his cock to put him back in but your request was denied. “so nasty, open baby,” he squeezed your cheeks together, your tongue out as he spat, watching you swallow his saliva like a good girl.

“that’s my princess. were you trying to get back at me for fucking your mom huh?” he chuckled, holding you up before bending you down, slapping his tip on your puffy lips. you wiggled your hips, trying to get rid of the emptiness you were feeling but instead toji sent a hard smack on your ass making you yelp. “that’s for fucking that boy. does he know you cum just from sucking my dick baby? look at him and tell him, tell him who makes you cum and squirt like a whore,” he held your head up by twisting his hand in your hair, holding the phone up so gojo could see your reflection in the mirror.

you were trembling, your hand fondling your breast. “you do daddy, want you so bad please, want your cum in my tummy,” you cried, your words making both of them groan. it didn’t take toji too long to push his dick back into you holding your hips as he fucked you relentlessly. he looked over at the phone a few times just to catch gojo coming undone, his cum spilling on his phone as he groaned and whimpering like a bitch. “and i thought i was the pervert,” toji muttered then hung up the phone, not letting him watch you any longer his moves slowing as he blocked his number.

“listen to daddy baby,” he bit your shoulder making you focus back on him. he stared at you through the mirror. “if i ever catch you talking to that boy again, i’m gonna have to fuck you in front of your whole college friends and colleagues. hear me?”

“yes daddy, p-please, ahh, daddy, wanna cum,” he pushed you down, your head almost touching the sink as he sped up his thrusts his heavy balls hitting your ass as he pushed himself deeper into you. his hand wrapped around you to play with your engorged clit, your legs shaking as you were about to fall from the stimulation.

toji kissed and sucked your neck, leaving dark purple marks down your back, knowing that everyone will see them because of your slutty revealing clothes.

“such a brat,” he chuckled, his thumb going over your other hole, your head shooting up in alarm. “no, n-no,” you shook your head, knowing that if he slightly teased your hole you’d make a mess.

“c’mon baby, you can handle a finger,” he grunted his dick buried inside you as he pushed his thumb in, your eyes rolling back as you came all over the floor, the cabinet and his legs wet from your orgasm. “already baby? if i knew you liked this i would’ve done that a long time ago,” he pushed his thumb in and out, his thrusts becoming sloppier.

“wanna breed you so bad, gonna fuck your pretty ass with my cock next time, fhuck,” toji exhaled by your ear. you were like putty, letting him do whatever he wanted with you, the feeling of his cum warming your insides. “shit baby, holy fuck,” he cussed as he emptied his heavy load inside you, his cum sliding down your leg. “nuh uh, no waste.” he gathered them with his fingers before pushing them in your mouth, making you suck them clean. your mind was so cloudy and overstimulated, you were sure you were going to black out.

“you’re lucky your mother wasn’t here to hear you,” he pulled out of you, then pushed his finger inside your abused cunt to feel his cum in your gummy walls. “next time i’ll make sure she does though.”

#toji thirst #toji fushiguro #toji daddy #toji smut #toji x reader #toji x you #jujutsu kaisen toji #jjk smut #jjk x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguru

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wettvagina · 1 year ago

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STICKY ICKY

desc: ohmygod! eren yeager, the college jock everyone wants to fuck, got his dick leaked all over campus. with his dickpic in every girl's phone, what happens when you finally get to see it.. warnings: p in v , creampie , blowjob , hottub sex a/n: dont do this irl guys, you will get an sti!

The bottom of your sandals clicked as you walked through the hallway of your apartment, the crisp air smelled like baby powder and cold donuts, the air conditioning system pumped frigid wind onto your face, causing a shiver to go down your spine, your face scrunched as you hurried to find your keycard, almost excited to get to your comfy queen sized bed, located in your cozy, homely room.

You saw the card scanner emit a green flash of light, indicating that the door was unlocked, with a flip of your wrist you unlocked the door, hearing everyone's voices in full volume. "No way! Is this what....the second time?" Sasha snorted, "No, this is the first time." Mikasa retorted in her usual calm voice, a slight smirk on her face as she conversed amongst the group of Ymir, Historia and Sasha.

The four of them sat on the floor of your living room, the pink, fuzzy carpet under your coffee table provided an area for Sasha to lay down as she snacked on some gummy worms in her hand, "Oh you're home, come look at this." Ymir's voice rang, your brows furrowed and you briskly deserted your belongings onto the couch before looking at what was displayed on Ymir's phone.

"WOAH!" your eyes widened as your friends snickered, "Thoughts?" Sasha chirped, "First of all, why is it so big?" you announce, "And veiny and pink." you went on, "Guess who?" Sasha snorted once again, "Wait that's real, no way, I thought that shit was AI generated or something the way how big it is." you mention as you crossed your legs to sit on the floor.

"Oh, yeah, it does look kinda fake cuz' it's zoomed up." Ymir mentions before taking her thumb and index finger to pinch at her screen, showing you the original picture, "No way! Is that?" you shouted, "Uh huh." Ymir nodded, you looked at Ymir's phone with wide eyes and a slightly heated face.

The erotic picture on Ymir's phone showed the school's thotty hottie, Eren Yeager, shirtless, grey sweatpants slightly pullled down exposing his hard cock, his phone was in his hands, half-way blocking his face but everyone knew it was him. His tense abs glazed with sweat and his dick was just panty wetting.

"No way." you iterated, in complete disbelief, feeling a sense of loss as Ymir pulled her phone away, "I mean, definitely not surprised." Historia chimed in, "He is him, after all." Mikasa sighed, "A manwhore." Sasha snarled while chewing, "Wonder who leaked it though." you say chewing on your nail.

"Hm, I say it probably got surface from his hidden Twitter account or something." Ymir suggested playfully, "Or OnlyFans." Sasha teased, "I wouldn't doubt it." Historia shrugged, "His fans are definitely getting off to that." Ymir taunted, "I know I am." you say, half heartedly. "Gross." Historia giggled, "What? I mean did you see that thing, it's like a uterus pounder." you sneered.

"That is nasty, but you're right though." Sasha agreed, "I dunno' how I'm gonna look at him the same." Mikasa shook her head, causing everyone to giggle. "Can I see that again?" you questioned, making Ymir turn on her phone, pointing the screen at you to which you grabbed, examining the entire picture oncemore.

"Hm, yeah I think I wanna fuck him now." you admit, "C'mon, have some respect for yourself." Historia joked, "No like seriously, he's carrying a third leg." you say straightforwardly. "Well I mean, if you wanna take a ride on that horse, go for it. Eren is pretty easy." Ymir states, "Yeah, wear a condom though, you wouldn't want to get any...disease." Sasha encouraged, "You know there is that party tonight." Historia mentions, "Well, it's confirmed, I'm fucking him tonight." you declare with heavy emphasis on the word fucking.

"Good luck, girl." Mikasa cheers on.

It seems the universe had been on your side that night, as Eren was nowhere to be found in Connie's condo party, you looked in every corner, bathroom and bedroom, he was absent. What if he did show out of embarrassment, I mean his dick literally just got leaked everywhere, or wait, did he have a girlfriend? And was he hooking up with her???

You obviously did not think this plan through, leading you to go on a sex-deprived, drunken rant to everyone about how you hadn't had any good sex in three months, leading Jean to pushing you outside Connie's condo, telling you to 'get some air', so you went at the top floor, to actually get some air.

And there you found him, smoking weed near in the hottub. Oh boy it was a scene, he was half naked, those God-carven abs on full display along with his v-line, his hair was free and rested delicately along his shoulders.

Smiling to yourself, you had schemed a profound plan. You threw your dress of your body, thanking yourself for wearing a matching underwear set of a pink push-up bra and matching panties. You composed yourself, barely walking in a straight line as you approached the hot tub which was sectioned off in a small square near the pool.

"Oh, I didn't realize the hot tub was occupied." You say, your glossed lips pursed once you finished talking, "O-Oh. I don't mind." Eren says calmly, taking a final puff of his blunt before discarding it. "Really? Well if you don't mind." you smirk to yourself before getting into the hot tub, the space was small, but wide enough to keep you both at an appropriate distance from eachother as you sat parallel to him, your face facing his as he exhaled the smoke.

"I've seen you before." Eren immediately striked conversation, "Yeah? I've seen you too." you smirk, Eren blushes, seemingly getting at what you were saying, "Right, we have the same major?" he asks, "Hm, what's your major?" you ask, noticing has gaze raking your body. "Huh?" he asks like an idiot, "I said what's your major?" you repeat with a sweet, calm voice, "Oh- Computer Science." he says, "Mines Econ, we probably share some classes though." you mention, "Yeah." he agrees.

"I didn't know you live in this building." Eren admits, "Oh, right." you say awkwardly, it's cuz' you dont, your broke ass lives in the building atleast four blocks away because it was the cheapest option, only rich guys with sport scholarships live here.

"Well, you barely know me, haha." you giggle awkwardly, "Well, wanna change that?" he asks with a smirk. "What are you trying to say?" you question, and in one swift motion his body is near you and his hand is ontop yours. "You know what I'm trying to say." he says, and with that final sentence, he leans in for a much anticipated kiss.

His pink, swollen, warm lips rode against yours, as you felt his hand wrap behind your neck, pulling you in closer as he slides his tongue into your mouth. His body cages yours as your back presses against the wall of the hot tub the warm water surrounded your body seemingly intensified it's tempurature.

His hand lowers to your ass, grabbing at the plump flesh as he presses kisses along your neck, his hand lowers to behind your knee, hooking both hands behind each of your knees as he pulls you up onto him, continuing to kiss onto your neck, you drape your arms around his neck feeling your clit throb against your panties.

Feeling his dick slightly poke against your inner thighs, you feel him pull away. "No- we should stop." he says almost shyly, still holding you up, "Why?" you question immediately, "I don't have a condom." he says while looking down. "Good, I wanted you to fuck me raw anyways." you say eagerly.

He grins before letting you off of him, spinning you around so that your pelvis pressed against the walls of the hot tub, you feel his hand on your ass underwater and his lips come near your ears, "You sure?" he asks, "Mhm." you hum, and feel some water splashing as he takes his dick out, you look back at at, seeing it in the flesh.

Lawd, it was bigger in real life, you couldn't wait for him to just fuck you already, you knew that you probably added some liquid into this hot tub with how wet you were. You continued to watch back as he slipped it in, slowly rocking his hips onto your ass, you arch your back as his huge dick was only half in.

"Shit." you hear him groan, and you push back onto him, his entire dick entered your pussy and you watched as his face contorted to match the pleasure he was feeling, his brows shot up and his eyes glassy. "'m gonna move." you hear him say, your hum in response was turned into a moan that fell off your tongue as he harshly pressed himself against you, grabbing onto your hips as he pounded into your pussy.

The only sounds you heard was his groans and grunts, as well as the sound of his skin slapping onto yours which was muffled by the splashing of water. "Oh shit." you cried out as you felt his fingers dig deeper into your hips, his pace increasing.

"Shit." his breaths were ragged as he watched down to where his dick slid in and out of your welcoming pussy, he slightly smirked at the sight as he leaned his face to the back of your neck, inhaling your scent before kissing onto your skin.

You were a bit surpised since he was fucking you like if you were his wife or something, you barely knew him, but you had no complaints and your thoughts were immediately slammed out of your head when you felt his dick tense inside of you, "Oh-" his words were cut off when you felt your insides get warmer, hearing him pant as he released his warm come inside of you.

"Shit." he groans, pressing himself deeper into you, his pelvis jamming against the curve of your ass as he rides out his high, moaning and groaning into your mouth as you turn your head to look back at him, only for him to kiss you oncemore.

He pulls out of you swiftly and you hear the water splash, "You think you can go for one more." you ask looking back at him, "Sure." he smiles, "Follow me." you say, climbing out of the hot tub, and grabbing onto his hand as you lead him the the changing rooms, you go into the women's changing room with your hand in his.

It was late and the room was empty, you passed through a series of empty toilet stalls to get to the other side of the room which was a changing room with showers, "Sit." you instruct, watching as he sits on the bench in front of you. You get onto your knees between his thighs, pulling at his waistband watching how his cock already erected again.

You didn't hesitate to take his cock into your mouth, sucking on the tip before licking onto the entire shaft, your lips pressed around his tip as you swirled your tongue around the slit, licking at the beads of precome around the swollen tip.

"S-Shit." you hear him groan as your head bobs on his cock, you continue to suck on the tip while stroking the parts of his dick where your mouth wasn't on. You released the tip from the warmth of your mouth to spit on it, taking it back into your mouth oncemore as you try to fit his entire length into your mouth.

His fists clench and his knees were almost shaking, loose strands of his hair hung in front of his face as water droplets ran down his bare chest and down to his chiseled abs. "Fuck." he grunts, hand digging into your hair, you look up at him as he jolts his hips forward into your mouth, making his tip hit the back of your throat.

And within seconds he's coming in your mouth, you feel his hot, white come in your mouth as he groans, thighs shaking as you continued to lick at his tip while he comes in your mouth. "Fuck!" he curses as he rides out his second high, hips stuttering slightly when you rub at his dick while he's still coming.

"I need your number." he says between heavy breaths.

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baekhyunsbestie · 1 month ago

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──★ ALL MINE ˙🌷͙֒ ̟ !!

જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 sum: it's been months since you cut ties with your bff-turned-fwb. now, you’re stuck with a new guy who’s a total fucking letdown in the bedroom. but there’s no way you’re telling your bestie baekhyun that embarrassing detail, right? WRONG. you guys share everything. and of course, baekhyun won't stop teasing you about it—especially after another disastrous date. just when you've hit your limit, you come home to find him rummaging through the pantry, snacking like he runs the place. but don't worry, he's here to make it up to you!!!!! and by "make it up to you," i mean help release all of your pent-up sexual frustration, because that's what besties do, right? …right?!

જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 content: 18+/MDNI. 8.5k+ words. baekhyun x f!reader. no specified age, but i'd say they're somewhere in their early-to-mid 20’s cus i can only imagine people w/o fully developed frontal lobes behaving this way, respectfully 😭🙂‍↕️ bff's to fwb's to bff's again to strangers to lovers. fluff, angst, and it ain’t a baekhyunsbestie fic if it don’t got some good ol’ nasty smuuuttttt. pet names, praise kink, cheating, unprotected sex, p in v, creampie after creampie after creampie (baekhyun deffo has breeder balls, don’t @ me), overstimulation (both f + m). you both are just two big meanie idiots who are in love with each other.

your phone lights up with a ping, the glow illuminating your face as baekhyun’s text pops up on the screen:

✶bestie baekhyun!!!✶

aaawwww, is that your little boyfriend who can’t make you cum??? you guys are so cute together!

attached is a screenshot of your recent instagram story— you and your latest fling cozied up at a movie date earlier this evening. a date that ended with you unsatisfied, yet again.

your gaze drifts across the room. baekhyun, lounging on the couch, meets your eyes with that signature, shit-eating grin plastered on his face. the one that makes your eye twitch in instant irritation. he’s enjoying this way too much and you want to pummel him into the ground.

it’s been a week since you let your embarrassing little secret slip—your boyfriend can’t make you cum. and now, for seven agonizing days, your infuriating best friend has been toying with that knowledge like it’s his new favorite game. poking at your frustration with every sly comment, every teasing smirk.

you’re seething, and sexually frustrated, wound tight and ready to fucking snap. baekhyun knows exactly what he’s doing, pushing your buttons like only he can, and you’re not sure if you want to punch him or let him finish what your boyfriend never could.

it’s your bi-weekly hangout with your friend group—same old routine: catching up over movies, playing drinking games, maybe getting high, with mindless banter and a sea of snacks. the aroma of freshly baked cookies mingles with the air as you wait for takeout to arrive. you're surrounded by your closest friends, laughing, relaxed. but beneath the surface, you’re a storm waiting to break. every fiber of your being wants to blow up at him, but you can’t. no one knows about the “friends-with-benefits” situation that crashed and burned a few months ago, and you'd be damned if they found out. it would wreck the entire dynamic, fill the room with awkward tension, and you're not about to let that happen.

it lasted as long as it could before you realized you were starting to catch feelings— which definitely wasn’t part of the deal. you couldn’t admit that to him, though. no way, it’d be too embarrassing. you’d wreck the years of friendship that you have between you. so instead, you lied. you told him you were interested in seeing someone and wanted to give it a real shot.

one of your coworkers had been persistent about taking you out, and eventually, you gave in. he was great—amazing, even. a real charmer, with looks that could stop traffic, a sharp sense of humor, and a surprising attentiveness that made him seem like the total package. except for one small detail: he couldn’t take you to that edge, couldn’t push you past the brink where pleasure turns into toe-curling bliss. you tried to tell yourself that, with time and patience, he could learn. maybe, with a few more pointers, he’d figure out how to unravel you, bit by bit.

but the truth is, you don’t want to have to teach someone all over again. not when there’s someone who already knows every inch of your body, someone whose touch leaves you trembling without needing a single word. baekhyun. he’s the one who knows exactly where to touch, where to linger, how to make you drip with nothing but a glance or the graze of his fingers.

but, of course, it’s never that simple. because baekhyun is your best friend, and as much as you wish he could see you in the same way, he doesn’t—or at least, not in the way you need him to. and even though your boyfriend has been nothing but sweet and patient these past few months, the connection just isn’t there. the attraction feels muted, like a faded echo of what it should be.

it leaves you simmering with a frustration you can’t admit out loud, the kind that gnaws at you from the inside, bubbling just beneath the surface, waiting for the smallest crack to spill over and consume you. you’ve been holding it together for so long, but every time you’re near baekhyun, every casual brush of his skin against yours, it pushes you closer to the edge. and you don’t know how much longer you can keep pretending. how much longer you can keep this act going, knowing that the one person you truly want is right there, just out of reach.

suddenly overwhelmed and no longer in the mood for the night’s festivities, thanks to baekhyun, you decided to slip away quietly. feigning a tired smile, you excused yourself, blaming it on the onset of a cold you claimed was creeping up on you.

as you got up and gathered your things, slipping on your sweater to shield yourself from the chilly october evening, baekhyun let out an exaggerated yawn and announced he was heading out as well, drawing boos and groans from your friends that both of you were leaving.

feeling the walls close in, you rush to the door, needing to escape and breathe. your hands fumble to slip on your shoes, heart racing, fingers already gripping the cool metal of the doorknob. just as you’re about to turn it, baekhyun’s voice stops you, smooth but firm. "hey, let me take you home." his presence lingers behind you, his words almost a plea, warm and insistent.

without meeting his gaze, you replied coldly, “no, i’m fine. i’d rather walk,” waving him off dismissively. “goodnight, baekhyun.”

“w-wait!” he called out, but you were already closing the door in his face. you pulled your bag over your shoulder and tugged your sweater tighter around your neck, bracing against the crisp fall air.

your apartment was only a few blocks away, an easy ten-minute walk on most nights, but tonight, you lingered. every step was slower, the cool night air brushing against your skin as you wandered the quiet streets. you needed the extra time, the space to think about the growing weight of your situation.

your thoughts drifted to your boyfriend—should you break up with him? the idea gnawed at you. you even reached for your phone, fingers hovering over his name, but the words refused to come. how could you explain that nothing he did ever truly satisfied you? that every time, you had to guide him, instruct him, tell him how to touch you, how to kiss you. his attempts never stirred anything deep inside, and when he fucked you, it was mechanical—passionless, almost empty.

he wasn’t like baekhyun.

with baekhyun, you never had to say a word. he knew your body instinctively, knew how to make you unravel without asking. he never needed guidance to make you cum; it was as natural as breathing for him.

you approached your apartment complex, the weight of your unresolved dilemma still pressing heavily on your mind—caught between trying to make things work with your boyfriend and the tangled, confusing feelings you had for baekhyun. your shoulders slumped as your head hung low, chin brushing against your chest, your eyes tracing the cracks in the pavement. the world around you felt muted, distant, like you were moving through a fog, everything blurred and out of focus.

with a swift punch of the door code, the lock beeped softly, and the door groaned open. but before you could step inside, your breath caught in your throat. there, by the entrance, sat a pair of men’s shoes—worn but familiar, ones you couldn’t possibly mistake. they rested neatly by the door, as if they had been waiting for you, like he had been waiting for you.

a tired sigh slipped from your lips, recognition sinking into your chest. you didn’t need to look any further to know who was already inside.

you were hoping for a moment of solitude to finish gathering your thoughts, but there he was—baekhyun, rummaging through your pantry, helping himself to your snacks.

“baekhyun, what are you doing here?” you ask, voice laced with surprise and slight irritation.

it’s not like his presence is unusual—he’s your best friend after all. he used to drop by unannounced all the time, making himself at home as if your space was his own. he’d lounge on your couch, rummage through your fridge, and sometimes, without a word, he'd settle next to you for hours. but since you both called off your little "arrangement," those random visits had stopped completely. maybe it was because there was no longer that unspoken pull drawing him to your bed, or maybe—for once—he was trying to give you some space.

but let’s be real—baekhyun doesn’t know the meaning of personal space, especially when it comes to you. and little did you know, it’s not respect for your privacy that keeps him away. no, it’s because he can’t bear the thought of walking in and potentially finding you with someone else. the idea of seeing you with your new boyfriend—his hands where baekhyun’s used to be—would kill him. he’s already imagined it a hundred times, and each time, the image is enough to make him want to gouge his eyes out.

he peeks out from behind the pantry door, a bag of chips in his grip, he grinned. “oh, hey! you’re finally here.” he stuffed a few chips into his mouth, his voice muffled. “y’seemed a bit out of it, so i wanted to make sure you were okay.” with a playful poke to your cheek, causing you to grimace. “shoulda just let me drive ya home, cupcake. i’ve been here for like ten minutes already.”

"cupcake." the nickname pulls you into a warm memory from childhood. you and baekhyun, determined to bake cupcakes for a school event, laughed as flour flew everywhere, turning the kitchen into a playful disaster. your moms watched in horror as you two struggled with the instructions, but when the cupcakes came out, you both beamed with pride—baekhyun mostly for the fun. at the event, you eagerly awaited your friends' reactions to your creations, excitement bubbling inside you. but when they announced their preference for another girl’s cupcakes��sparkling with glittery frosting—your heart sank. yours and baekhyun’s looked so plain in comparison. heartbroken, you ran off, only for him to find you, comforting you with a gentle pat on the head, "you’re my favorite, cupcake." he gently wiped away your tears as you choked out a trembling, "promise?" between your sobs. “mhm! promise,” and in that moment, he wrapped his pinky with yours, and with a playful press of your thumbs, you stamped it with sincerity. fifteen years later, the nickname still clings to you like the sweetest frosting.

"'m fine, really," you lied, your voice barely steady as your eyes darted away from his. you leaned against the kitchen island, elbows digging into the cool surface, pressing your forehead into your palms. no matter how you tried to mask it, the stiffness in your frame exposed the truth, even as you tried to keep your tone light. "’m just... not feeling well, that's all."

you’re stuck in the middle, torn between what feels safe and what feels right. you keep telling yourself that making it work with your boyfriend is the better option—after all, you’re terrified of losing baekhyun as your best friend. but a part of you knows, deep down, that things between you and baekhyun aren’t the same anymore. ever since you became friends with benefits, something shifted, something fragile that you’re afraid to acknowledge.

you can’t let yourself believe baekhyun could feel something deeper for you. it’s easier to stay in denial than face the possibility that the guy you’ve been so close to, the one who knows you inside out, might actually want more. maybe it’s because you’re scared—scared of ruining the friendship that’s been your constant, the one thing you can always rely on. so, you push down the thoughts, shove aside the feelings, and try to make things work with your boyfriend. but you know you’re unsatisfied. emotionally, physically—it’s not enough. yet, you cling to it, because you think it’s better to have a relationship that’s functional rather than risk something that might fall apart.

but baekhyun… with him, it’s different. you never have to try. things just fall into place with him, naturally, effortlessly. it feels so right—too right—and maybe that’s what terrifies you. being with him feels easy, like slipping into something that was always meant to be, and that scares you more than anything. what if you let yourself fall for him and everything changes? what if you lose him completely, not just as a lover but as your best friend?

you don’t know what you want. you can’t figure out if you should stay with your boyfriend just to avoid the risk of losing baekhyun, or if you should give in to the way you feel toward him. deep down, you know what you want, but you can’t bring yourself to admit it. it’s the fear that stops you—the fear of losing control, of opening up to something real, of being vulnerable with someone who’s already seen all your cracks.

but how long can you pretend? how long can you stay in a relationship that leaves you empty, just because it’s safer than taking a chance? maybe what you’re really scared of isn’t losing baekhyun. maybe it’s the idea that being with him feels too perfect, too right, and that kind of happiness is something you don’t know how to handle. but sooner or later, you’ll have to make a choice—stay in a relationship that drains you, or risk everything for something that makes you feel alive.

but you’d deal with that headache another day.

his fingers curl around your arm, firm but not forceful, spinning you to face him. the movement is swift, catching you off guard, and you stumble slightly before his gaze locks with yours. “is this about my text earlier?” his voice is playful, but there’s an edge beneath the tease. “i’m sooooo sorry for teasing about your loser boyfriend, the one ya clearly don’t have any romantic feelings for,” he says, each word dripping with mockery.

“you’re such an ass, y’know that?” you want to yell at him, to snap back with something cutting, to defend your relationship like it actually means something. you want to push him out the door and slam it behind him, pretend that this tension between you doesn’t exist.

but you can’t. because baekhyun’s right. and even now, with him standing just inches away, you feel more electricity between you than you ever have with your boyfriend. the way he looks at you, the way the air between you thickens—it’s undeniable. infuriatingly so.

the atmosphere shifts, charged with something far more dangerous. his voice softens, but the playful glint in his eyes doesn’t fade. “finefinefine. ’m sorry, f’real, cupcake. hate seeing ya upset cus of me. how ‘bout i make it up to you, hmm?” his words are smooth, each one laced with a promise. “i can help ya forget all about your little boyfriend.”

the word lingers between you, thick with implication. you shift on your feet, heart racing. “well…i—i don’t know,” you stammer, your gaze falling to the floor. you can’t look at him. if you do, he’ll see it—the flicker of hope, the unspoken longing. you’ve tried so hard to bury it, to keep it hidden, but in moments like this, it threatens to spill out.

his fingers loosen slightly on your arm, but he doesn’t let go. instead, his thumb is rubbing circles, the gentle caress making it harder for you to keep it together. “i don’t know what i want,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. you’re not even sure if you’re convincing yourself or him. all you know is that if you meet his eyes, he’ll likely see everything you’ve been trying to deny: the truth that maybe you don’t want your boyfriend at all. maybe you’ve wanted baekhyun all along.

your eyes are glued to the floor and your trying your hardest to suppress the rising heat in your chest. his fingers slide from your arm up to your chin, gently tilting your face toward him. his thumb brushes against your bottom lip, a gesture that sends a rush of heat through your body, making it impossible to think straight.

“look at me,” he whispers, his voice low and almost dangerous. slowly, your gaze lifts to meet his. “i don’t believe you,” he murmurs, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. his eyes drop briefly to your mouth before returning to yours, darker now. “i think you do know what you want.”

suddenly his body is pressing into yours, the warmth radiating from him almost overwhelming. his hand slides up, cradling your neck, fingers gentle yet possessive, his thumb brushing along your jawline. your breath hitches as he leans in, lips hovering so close to yours you can feel his breath.

“baekhyun….w-we really shouldn’t…” you stammer, the words tumbling out in a weak attempt to stop what you know is inevitable. but your body doesn’t qute get the memo with the way you’re leaning into him, craving his touch.

“tell me to stop, then,” he whispers, lips brushing yours, his voice coarse with challenge. his eyes are locked onto yours, daring you to say it. to push him away.

but you can’t. every nerve in your body is screaming for more—for him. all the frustration from your boyfriend, the disappointment in every failed touch, every unsatisfying kiss—it all crashes over you at once. and baekhyun… baekhyun is standing right here, so close, so familiar. you miss him. you miss the way his lips felt on yours, the way his hands knew exactly where to touch you, the way he could unravel you in seconds.

you can’t tell him to stop. not when you want him this badly.

your lips part in a breath, and that’s all the invitation he needs. his mouth crashes onto yours, the kiss full of urgency and raw, unrestrained need. his lips move against yours in perfect sync, fierce yet deliberate, like he’s pouring everything into this one moment. his tongue brushes against yours, coaxing a soft whimper from your throat, and his hand tightens slightly around your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

he groans into your mouth, the sound vibrating through you, and it’s like all the pent-up frustration you’ve been harboring melts away in an instant. all you can feel is baekhyun, his lips claiming yours, his body pressing you back against the wall with an intensity that leaves you breathless.

“i’ve missed this,” he mutters between kisses, his lips barely leaving yours. “missed you.”

your hands tangle in his shirt, pulling him closer, needing him like never before. it’s not just the kiss—it’s everything you’ve been holding back, everything you’ve denied yourself. and now, here he is, reminding you of exactly what you’ve been craving.

when he finally pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, his forehead resting against yours, you’re both panting, chests heaving. “see, cupcake?” he murmurs, his voice rough with desire. “you know exactly what you want.”

before you can respond, his lips are on yours again, fiercer this time, as if the mere thought of stopping is unthinkable. the kiss deepens, every inch of him pressing closer, until he’s got you in your room and on your bed, pinned beneath him. his body moves instinctively, shifting behind you, and within seconds, you feel him slide into you from behind, achingly slow at first. but the second he bottoms out, something shifts. a low groan rumbles from deep in his chest, vibrating against your skin. he doesn’t even wait for you to adjust, he loses all control, thrusting with raw, feral intensity. his chest is flush against your back, the heat of his body overwhelming as your face presses into the pillow, muffling the broken moans spilling from your lips as you bite into the fabric, trying to hold on for dear life.

each relentless thrust from baekhyun feels like it’s stealing the very breath from your lungs, leaving you gasping for air. his movements are unyielding, almost desperate, as if he’s trying to reclaim every second of the time you’ve spent apart, making up for the last few months he couldn’t have you like this.

the sheets twist tightly in your fists, but no matter how hard you cling to them, it’s impossible to ground yourself—he’s pulling you deeper into the intoxicating blur of sensation. his pace is feral, his hips slamming into yours with an intensity that borders on overwhelming.

baekhyun moans, the sound rough and guttural, fueling the fire building inside you. his hands grip your thighs, possessive and firm, as he drives into you with a force that makes your entire body quake. the heady mix of sensation has you floating, completely consumed by him, by the way he moves, as if he’s trying to burn this moment into your skin, into your memory. each thrust pushes you closer to that edge, where all you can feel, all you can think about, is him.

his voice cuts through the haze—deep, raspy. "look at my pretty little angel... i’ve missed watching you fall apart for me." his words, tainted with hunger, ignite something in you. but you can’t find it in you to respond, not with the way he’s driving you to the edge.

his fingers sink into your hips, firm and punishing, and you know for certain that bruises will manifest if he keeps this up. each grip imprints on your skin, marking you as if he’s claiming you as his own. and you revel in it—every deliciously painful second. there’s something intoxicating about witnessing him completely lost, consumed by his need for you, making you feel more desired than ever before.

his breath is hot against your ear as he growls, "you're all mine, aren’t ya, cupcake?"

you can barely find your voice, breathless and overwhelmed, but somehow you manage to gasp out, "y-yes... all yours." how could you ever belong to anyone else when he's driving into you with such raw intensity, each thrust relentless, pushing you deeper into the mattress?

"yours," you repeat, the truth sinking in. you always have been. you never stopped.

baekhyun’s grip tightens at your affirmation, his pace quickening in response—he liked your answer. it’s clear in the way he devours you, body and soul. he’s using you like his personal plaything, his touch both possessive and unrelenting. but it’s the sounds spilling from his lips that keep you tethered to reality—reminding you that it’s still him. baekhyun. your baekhyun.

"baek," you whimper, voice shaky, barely audible over the sounds of your bodies moving in sync. he doesn’t respond right away, too lost in the pleasure rippling through him, but you see it—the way his eyes flicker open, wild and dark, his gaze locking onto yours. a smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, but it’s not his usual playful grin. this one is predatory, dangerous.

“what’s wrong, cupcake?” he rasps, his voice dripping with amusement, though there's something almost menacing in the way he says it. "can’t—nnngghhh—handle it?"

your breath hitches, and the words you want to say cling to your tongue, refusing to come free. all you can manage is a faint nod, a fragile acknowledgment of the moment. he leans in closer, his lips grazing the delicate curve of your ear. his voice, a low whisper, dancing across your skin.

"good," he purrs, his voice now a deep, velvety growl. "cus i don’t think i can stop fucking this pretty pussy. fuck—i think she missed me."

what feels like hours later, after countless orgasms brought forth by his mouth and the myriad of ways he’s taken you, the sight before you is nothing short of devastating. baekhyun has already came inside you twice, and now, poised on the brink of losing himself again in a mean mating press, he looks utterly wrecked. strands of damp hair cling to his forehead, dark and slick with sweat, framing a face flushed with feverish desire. a deep crimson blooms across his cheeks, spilling down the bridge of his nose like a painting. his bottom lip is pinched between his teeth, the skin pale from the pressure, while his gaze—dark, ravenous, and locked on the intimate connection of your bodies.

the way his eyes feast on you sends a shiver racing down your spine, igniting a deep ache that only he can soothe. he trembles with barely contained desire, his body quaking with the need to claim you all over again, while you teeter on the edge, overwhelmed and craving more. before you know it, he’s flipping you back onto your stomach, pulling your hips up to meet his as your face and the upper half of your body sink into the mattress, the sheets slick with your sweat and juices.

his tip glides teasingly over your entrance, and you instinctively flinch away from the sensitivity, heart racing.

"nonono, cupcake, don’t do that," baekhyun’s voice rumbles, low and commanding, sending another jolt through you. his hands are firm as they guide your hips back against his waist, grip tightening, muscles flexing as he holds you in place. "run away from me again, and i’ll make it so ya can’t walk."

"p-please, baekhyun," you whine.

a deep chuckle vibrates through his chest, sending a shiver rippling down your spine. goosebumps rise, and baekhyun notices—he always notices—his hands roaming, possessive, over every inch of your trembling body. "uh-uh," his voice rough with lust, "you’re gonna take every last drop.”

his hips surge forward, harder, deeper, and his eyes flicker up to meet yours. there's a flicker of something wild in them, raw.

“fuck, you’re s-so perfect. so perfect for me,” he growls, voice low and ragged, and it shoots straight through you, making your insides coil in response. “y’feel that, cupcake? how close i am?” his tone is a little desperate now, his restraint slipping as he fights to keep control. but you can see it—the need, the hunger that threatens to consume him.

another thrust, brutal, claiming, sends you spiraling, and you feel him everywhere. your breath hitches, and you know he can feel it too, how tightly you’re holding him inside, the way your body swallows him tells him just how much you want him—more than words ever could.

a hiss escapes him, sharp and guttural, his teeth gritting as he barely holds on. “you’re so tight—fuck—i’m gonna–ngh–fill you up again. you’re gonna take it all, aren’t ya? isn’t that right, my girl?” his voice is almost pleading now, the desperation to spill into you driving him mad. and when his thrusts grow erratic, each one landing deeper than the last, you know he’s close to breaking, just as you are.

it’s intoxicating, watching him unravel before you, the way his chest rises and falls erratically, every ragged breath he takes feeding into your own desire. at the sound of his name slipping from your lips—soft, and pleading—he finally tears his gaze from the mess he's made of you.

his eyes, dark and glazed over, meet yours, and there’s the faintest hint of a smile on his lips, but it’s strained, barely there. he doesn’t slow. if anything, he pushes harder, deeper, the rhythm relentless. sweat drips from his temple, tracing down his cheek, but he doesn’t even notice. his focus is singular, entirely consumed by you—by the way your body trembles, how your fingers grip onto the sheets, like a lifeline.

"say it again," he breathes, voice hoarse, barely above a whisper, but you hear the urgency in it. "say my name."

you bite your lip, trying to hold back, but the intensity of his gaze—it undoes you. your eyes meet his, tear-filled and hazy, and you see the way his own eyes flicker, like he’s losing whatever control he had left.

and it’s the way your soft, pouty lips quiver as they whisper his name that gets him there, how your brows are knit together in an innocent plea while your eyes gaze up at him, brimming with love and vulnerability.

his jaw clenches, and he lets out a deep, guttural sound, so raw it sends shivers through you. he lowers his forehead to your back, his breath hot against your skin.

"holy–fuck—," he hisses through gritted teeth, his hand tightening on your waist, like he’s afraid to let go. his hips stutter before slamming forward, burying himself deep inside you one final time. his orgasm crashes over him like a violent wave, dragging him under. the guttural moan that escapes his lips is raw, primal, and he knows he’ll be embarrassed about it later, but in this moment, it’s beyond his control.

you feel the tremor in his body as he shudders against you, his skin flushed, slick with sweat, while his cock pulses inside you. his balls tighten and twitch, spilling hot and thick, the sensation drawing a gasping whimper from your own throat. his breath is erratic, each inhale a desperate gulp.

baekhyun lowers himself until his chest is pressed against your back, the weight of his body sinking into you, his lips brushing your ear as he pants, "you... you feel too fucking good. how do you... how do ya do this to me?" his voice is shaky, barely a whisper as his hands continue to clutch you, desperate, possessive.

you murmur something incoherent in response, your own mind foggy with aftershocks, but all you can focus on is the way he trembles against you. his forehead presses against back, and you feel him trying to steady his breath, his heart racing like he’s just run a marathon.

“goddamn,” he breathes, the words more for himself than for you, voice thick with awe. "i’m never… getting enough of this. never gonna get enough of you."

his body lingers against yours, the air still heavy with the remnants of pleasure. even as the sharp edge of your climax begins to dull, you can feel the way his hands stay locked on your skin, like he’s afraid to let go, fingers tracing invisible patterns over your waist as if committing every inch of you to memory. there's a yearning in his touch, a silent desperation that clings to the moment, stretching it out.

you pretend not to notice. you can’t let yourself notice. feeding into that fantasy, that he could want more than this—more than just the heat between your bodies—would be a mistake. he’s your best friend, and that’s all this is. two best friends tangled in each other, using one another to satisfy a need. nothing more, nothing deeper.

it couldn’t be.

the air in the room feels heavy, thick with something unspoken. at least that’s what it feels like to baekhyun, like a weight pressing down on his chest. as he’s silently pulling his clothes back on, he’s stuck in his head, running over the same thought again and again: how badly he wants to ask you to leave your boyfriend. he wants to beg you to give him a real chance. because you and him? you just fit.

it makes so much sense in his mind—you should know it too, right? i mean, the synergy between you two is undeniable—the way you connect, how effortlessly you bounce off each other, both physically and emotionally. no one gets his humor the way you do, no one reads him so instinctively, and no one fits him quite like you. you’re each other’s perfect match, and he feels it in every fiber of his being. what could be better than being in a committed relationship with your best friend, someone who already knows you inside and out?

he hesitates, throwing his shirt on as you rummage through your closet, probably looking for something more comfortable now that you’re home. his voice breaks the silence, casual but laced with a tinge of hope. “soooo... are you gonna break up with, uh, what’s-his-name?”

you pause, turning around with a look of genuine confusion on your face. “huh? oh—hmm, no. at least, not just yet... maybe i should give it another shot? he actually texted me not too long ago if i could meet him for drinks in a bit.”

the way his expression drops is almost comical, if it weren’t for the fact that you see it—the disbelief, the frustration flickering across his face before he can mask it. baekhyun has never been skilled at concealing his emotions, despite his insistence that he can. right now, it feels like he isn’t even attempting to hide the disappointment that hangs between you like a heavy fog.

if you could hear his thoughts, it’d be something like, ‘you’re going out with him? i literally just emptied my entire fucking ballsack into you, and you’re going out with him?’

his frown deepens, brows knitting together as if he’s trying to hold back a storm. before you can fully process what’s happening, he scoffs, shaking his head as if he could simply dismiss it all. “hah. right. okay, well, thanks for the nut, i guess. i’ll be seeing you around.”

each word drips with sarcasm, but beneath it, you can sense the hurt—an ache that tugs at the edges of your heart.

and with that, he turns on his heel and storms out of your bedroom, heading straight for your front door.

“baekhyun, wait!” you call after him, scrambling to catch up, grabbing his arm just before he can leave. he stops, but he doesn’t turn around, his body rigid with frustration. “what’s going on?”

he finally looks at you, and the raw emotion in his eyes catches you off guard. “what’s going on?” he repeats, voice low, almost a growl. “i’m sitting here, watching you play house with some guy who doesn’t get you—not like i do—and i’m supposed to just... what? be okay with it?”

you’re taken aback by the intensity in his tone, the way his words come out in a rush, like he’s been holding them in for way too long. “baekhyun, what the hell are you talking about?”

he lets out a bitter laugh, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “you really don’t get it, do you? we,” his hand gesturing between the two of you, “make sense, you and me. we’ve always made sense. and yet, here you are, wasting your time with someone who doesn’t even appreciate you like i do—who you don’t even like!”

you blink, a wave of dizziness washing over you as a flood of questions races through your mind, each one slipping away before you can grasp it. the weight of his words hangs between you, thick and suffocating.

“s-since when?” you stammer, doubt trembling in your voice. the ground beneath you feels unsteady, as if it might shift and swallow you whole.

“are you kidding me?” he scoffs, disbelief etching deeper lines into his face. “i was a fucking wreck when you called it off.” the intensity of his emotions surges, filling the quiet of your apartment with an echo that seems to reverberate off the walls. “when you told me you wanted to ‘try dating some other guy’—do you even realize how that felt? why do you think i haven’t been around much since then??? it’s because i literally cannot stand the thought of you with someone else. just the idea makes me sick to my fucking stomach. i can’t breathe knowing he’s with you when it should be me.”

oh.

ohhhh.

his confession hits you like a tidal wave, the unbearable guilt gnawing at your insides. but it’s the way his voice trembles, softening as it cracks beneath the weight of vulnerability, that makes your eyes sting with unshed tears. “but i wanted you to be happy,” he admits, each word wrapped in a bittersweet sincerity that tugs at your heart. “even if it meant not being with me… i knew what this was. i understood our arrangement. and i tried so hard, so fucking hard, to push these feelings down. deep down, i always felt it was something more. call it delusion, but it just felt so good pretending you were mine... even if you didn’t feel the same.”

every word is laced with desperation, like a raw, exposed nerve. the truth hangs heavy in the air, and you can see the storm brewing in his eyes—agitation just beneath the surface, threatening to overflow.

you can barely meet his gaze, heart racing as the reality of his feelings sinks in, pulling you under. “how come you’ve never said anything before?”

he takes a moment to steady himself, visibly wrestling with the whirlwind of emotions coursing through him. his gaze drops to the floor, fingers still tangled in his hair as he collects his thoughts. when he finally looks back up, his expression is a mix of frustration and vulnerability.

“because i thought you’d be happier without me,” he admits, voice barely above a whisper. “i didn’t want to be the reason you felt trapped or guilty. i thought if you wanted to explore something new, then i should just... step back. but every day these last few months have felt fucking suffocating. i can’t shake the feeling that we belong together, even if it’s terrifying to say out loud.”

he takes a step closer, closing the distance between you, eyes searching yours for understanding. “i’ve been a coward, honestly. i know that. i kept telling myself i should let you go, but every time i see you smile or hear your laugh, it just reminds me of what i’m missing. i wanted to tell you so many times, but i was afraid of ruining whatever friendship we had left.”

his voice thickens, eyes glistening with unshed emotion. “but i can’t keep pretending anymore. i want to be the one who makes you happy. i need to be that person, even if it means risking everything. even if it means putting everything on the line.”

he stands there, eyes searching yours, you can see the desperation in his gaze, but the weight of his words feels too heavy to bear, and you take a step back, creating space between you.

“baekhyun, i just—i don’t know if i can—” you start, but he interrupts, the hurt flashing across his face.

“don’t know if you can what? feel the same way? i’m here, laying it all out for you!” his voice rises again, tinged with anguish. “you’re with someone else, and i get that! but you’re standing here like it doesn’t even matter, like you’re just going to pretend whatever we have between us doesn’t exist!”

the sharpness in his words cuts deep, and your heart aches. “it’s not that simple. you know it’s not,” you reply, your voice trembling with the weight of your own emotions. “you think i haven’t thought about what this means? about how complicated it is? i can’t just flip a switch and make everything okay!”

he runs a hand over his face, frustration boiling just below the surface. “you don’t have to make it okay! just... just acknowledge it! acknowledge us. you can’t deny that there’s something more here.”

the heat of the moment grows unbearable, and you feel tears welling up in your eyes. “i-i can’t! i can’t do this right now! i don’t even know what i want!”

“then maybe it’s better if you stay with him,” he snaps, hurt flooding his voice. “at least then you can pretend you’re happy. you won’t have to deal with the mess we’ve created. you can have your perfect little life, while i’m over here trying to pick up the fucking pieces.”

his words cut deep, each syllable laced with disappointment that settles heavily in your chest. “baek… c’mon, that’s not fair—” you reach out to him, but this time, for the first time ever, he pushes you away, the sudden force of it leaving you reeling.

“just please…let me go, okay?” his voice is low, but it trembles with emotion. “there’s nothing here for me anymore. you’ve made it clear that there never was.”

you swallow hard, the weight of unshed tears threatening to spill over as you gaze into his eyes for what feels like the last time. the raw pain reflected back at you cuts deep, shattering something fragile inside you. he turns on his heel, his silhouette fading into the distance, the door clicking shut behind him like a final punctuation mark.

now, in the suffocating stillness, the tears flow freely, your chest tightening under the weight of your own heartbreak. each beat of your heart an ugly reminder of how deeply fucked this entire situation is.

this is it.

you’ve hit rock bottom.

the days that follow blur into a haze of heartache and regret. each moment apart stretches into an eternity, every thought of baekhyun sending sharp pangs of longing twisting painfully through your chest. you try to distract yourself, immersing yourself in the whirlwind of work while surrounding yourself with friends—friends who have always sensed the unspoken tension between you and baekhyun. apparently, you two were never as subtle as you thought you were. the longing glances, the lingering touches, constantly matching each other’s energy, him effortlessly meeting you on every wavelength—everybody saw it, each tiny detail.

‘you’d have to be deaf and blind to not pick up on the chemistry,’ one of them commented. ‘yeah, we were all calling you and baekhyun the next hellen kellers,’ another added. ‘more like tweedle dee and tweedle dum,’ someone else chuckled. you couldn’t help but wince at the truth of it all.

you come to find out that they all secretly rooted for your “not-so-secret” connection to flourish, yet holding back from intervening, respecting the boundaries of your privacy. you feel nothing but gratitude for that unspoken understanding; after all, the very reason you both kept your fwb arrangement hidden was because of the fear of anyone else complicating the already complicated.

oh, and your boyfriend—the poor guy. he really didn’t deserve the turmoil you put him through. the conversation with him still echoes in your mind, haunting you like a ghost. you told him the truth, your voice trembling as you confessed to your betrayal. “i cheated,” you said, tears welling in your eyes. “i’m so sorry. it was wrong, and i take full responsibility for everything.” you could see the disappointment wash over his face, the trust he had for you shattering before your eyes. he deserved more than what you gave him, yet you’d been stringing him along, all because you felt like you didn’t have a chance with baekhyun—the one who made your heart race in a way your boyfriend never could.

now, you’re left with nothing but the empty echoes of those moments, each heartbeat a reminder of the love you lost and the love you crave. baekhyun's laughter still dances in your memory, his touch lingers on your skin, and the connection you shared feels like an ache that refuses to fade. despite the distractions, you can’t escape the truth that looms over you: he’s the one you truly want. it was always baekhyun who held your heart, and the thought of losing him makes your heart ache all over again.

then, one evening, after an especially difficult day, you find yourself in a familiar spot—a coffee shop you and baekhyun used to frequent together. you sit there, cradling your drink, as a wave of sweet memories washes over you, each one tied to your past visits here with him.

just as you’re gathering your things to leave, the bell above the door jingles, and your heart races when you see who's walking in, a hesitant expression etched across his face.

“hey,” he says softly, eyes locking onto yours with a mix of hope and uncertainty.

“baekhyun…” his name falls from your lips in a quiet whisper, the weight of unspoken emotions heavy between you as you step closer. “can we talk?”

he nods, motioning toward a nearby table. your legs feel leaden as you walk over, your heart pounding so loudly it drowns out everything else. each beat is a reminder of how much this moment means, of how much you stand to lose. you can’t mess this up. not again. you have to make this work—you can’t lose him.

“i know things have been… difficult since everything happened,” you begin, your voice trembling as you lower yourself into the chair. his eyes are on you, but they seem distant, almost guarded. “but i can’t keep pretending i don’t care. i can’t just walk away from us.”

baekhyun looks down, his fingers brushing the edge of the table, searching for the right words. his heart feels like it’s about to burst. “i didn’t think you felt the same,” he murmurs, his voice soft and vulnerable.

“i was scared,” you admit, your voice breaking slightly. “scared of losing you for good. but i realized that it’s worse to lose you without even trying to fight for what we had.”

you feel the tears prick at your eyes again, but this time they’re not from sadness; they’re from the overwhelming relief of seeing him here, in front of you.

“i don’t want to lose you either,” he confesses, his voice laced with quiet desperation. his hand reaches across the table, the warmth of his touch wrapping around yours as he gently grasps it. “i can’t stand the thought of seeing you with someone else. i never did. i want to be with you, and i’m willing to do anything to make it work.”

your chest tightens as you take a deep breath, nodding slowly while a shaky exhale slips from your lips. “i want to be with you, too. for real this time.”

his eyes widen, hope flickering like sparks catching flame. “do you mean it?” he asks, his voice filled with cautious anticipation.

you nod again, a soft hum of agreement escaping you, and in that moment, his smile breaks free, one of pure, unguarded relief. without a word, his hand reaches out, and your pinkies intertwine, just as they did all those years ago. a silent promise passes between you, and with a soft press of your thumbs, the vow is sealed—an echo of the past and a delicate mark of something entirely new.

“so… can i be your boyfriend?” he asks, his nervous grin tugging at the corners of his lips, his voice dipping into a shy but hopeful tone.

“yes,” you reply, unable to suppress the giggle that bubbles up, “i would love it if you were.”

his grin widens, turning his brown eyes into soft crescent moons, as if the tension in the room has melted away. you hadn’t realized how tense he was until you see him relax into his chair. “ugh, thank goddddd. i’m so glad we agreed not to be stupid anymore,” he jokes with a smile, and your heart swells at the familiar spark in his voice. and it hits you again—just how much you’ve missed him. that toothy smile, his voice, his laugh and the way he can always bring light into even the darkest moments. just him.

your best friend.

your boyfriend.

“i missed you, y’know?” you confess, the words tumbling out with sincerity.

“i missed you, too, cupcake.” he replies, his expression softening, thumb tracing little planets on the back of your hand.

he lets out a relieved sigh before continuing, “so what does my GIRLFRIEND want to do now?” excitement bubbles in his tone. “should we take a walk on the beach? the sun is about to set, and it would be nice. or does my GIRLFRIEND want to watch a movie? maybe my GIRLFRIEND wants to grab some dessert?”

you can’t help but blush, a giggle escaping your lips at the way he emphasizes your new title, drawing curious glances from the cafe patrons. embarrassment flares in your cheeks as you swiftly rise, tugging him by the arm to guide him out of the bustling cafe.

as soon as the door clicks shut behind you, he whirls you around, his hands tenderly cradling your face. twarmth of his palms feels like home as he leans in, kissing you with such devotion and tenderness that sends you soaring straight to cloud nine. everything outside melts away, and in that electric moment, it’s just the two of you, wrapped snug in each other’s arms.

he pulls back slightly, his breath mingling with yours, and you catch a glimpse of that playful spark in his eyes. he sends a thrill racing through you as he ghosts his lips over yours, the soft brush igniting a flutter deep in your stomach. “or how about i take my girlfriend back to my place,” his voice low and sultry, “and we consummate our new relationship?”

you laugh, your heart racing at the implication. “i think my boyfriend read my mind,” you tease, interlocking your fingers with his as you both giggle, making your way to his car. ‘finally,’ baekhyun thinks to himself as he swings open the passenger door, a grin spreading across his face. before you hop in, he leans in for one last kiss, savoring the sweetness of the moment. and as he shuts the door, a wave of relief washes over him. ‘finally, you’re all mine.’

જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 a/n: the song linked in the title (and a text post on here that i cannot find for the life of me) inspired me to write a fwb!baekhyun fic 🙂‍↕️ i was going to end it with angst but then i realized......i literally can't do that!!!! lmfao i need my disney ending or else i'm gonna combust!!!!!!! sigh but anyways, i hope u enjoyed it!!!! as always, lmk your thots unless you hate it then pls keep it to yourself omg cus i am sensitive and will cry <3 (not joking)

⤷ prequel <3

ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* masterlist ° ᡣ𐭩 .

#the dividers that feature lyrics from the song linked in the fic title were created by me <3 #rest of the dividers are by @anitalenia <3 #baekhyun smut #baekhyun one shot #baekhyun fic #baekhyun x reader #exo smut #exo fic #x reader #exo x reader #kpop smut #kpop fic #baekhyun #lisawrites

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savanir · 3 months ago

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DP x DC prompt [17]

Tucker meets Danny (no not that one, Danny Temple) through a Reddit about being a reincarnated important person.

They bond over a period of several weeks over their struggles with sudden positions of power and the responsibilities that come with that and surprisingly also over having a vigilante friend.

Danny Temple laments the fact that he hasn't seen his vigilante friend in a long while and his cult is keeping him busy so he can't just go out there and meet up

Tucker figures he could do his new buddy a favour. Kidnap some vigilante as a show of... friendship? General approval? To Signal that are allies or something. Drop him in egypt or wherever Danny's cult is at so they can catch up without anyone getting suspicious or whatever.

Shouldn't be too hard...

Though, wait, maybe he should keep kidnapping more as a last resort kinda thing. He should first just try to get the vigilante to act on their own by simply leaving an anonymous tip about their hidden, secret, possibly nefarious meeting. That seems less risky than full on kidnapping.

Tucker plans on asking his Danny, the Phantom one, on how he might get lured into a situation like that. Tucker doesn't really want to involve him in the actual action though... he'd feel bad if Danny took a hit on his reputation for this.

On that note. Tucker should ask his other Danny who exactly his vigilante friend is.

"Oh! It's Red Robin" he looks so proud about it.

Tucker realises he's going to have to step up his game a bit more cause he's sure tricking one of the Gotham birds is going to be a bit harder than your average teen hero (the kidnapping plan is starting to look even less appealing now...). But let it never be said he backs down from a challenge!

---

During a video chat while team Phantom is at Nasty Burger;

"Hey Danny come meet Danny"

Danny looks up from his food to see what Tucker is doing, "You're having way too much fun with our names being the same"

A voice pipes up from Tucker's PDA with laughter, "it's very confusing sometimes"

"Anyway, hi Danny, I'm Danny"

Danny T can be seen grinning on the screen, "Hello Danny I'm- oh damn, that's even weirder"

Now Tucker and Danny are both confused.

"You look just like my buddy Tim"

Danny seems to find the whole thing funny so Tucker leaves the two of them to it and focuses on his own extra mega beef burger until he overhears Danny T go "oh he's in Gotham now sadly so-"

"Hm? Who?" Tucker asks and Danny distractedly goes "Tim" before going back to his conversation with other Danny and Tucker's brain is slowly putting a few pieces together before tossing it aside.

Massive coincidence that this Tim guy and Red Robin both are in Gotham, and besides, there are a gazillion Tim's on the planet. So without a last name there is no way he-

"-and last time I heard he's majority shareholder in WE and works closely with the CEO Lucius Fox. So we're both in like, leadership positions"

Oh his friend is Tim Drake.

"You're friends with Tim Drake!" Tucker butts in

A startled "woah" can be heard from both Danny's.

Meanwhile Sam finished pulling up Tim's latest news article that has a photo attached. "He's right, you two do look alike"

Danny T makes a little surprised noise "oh he stopped wearing glasses"

But really, it's probably just a huge coincidence that both are in Gotham, his friend, haven't been in touch in a while, Tim clearly has the money to do vigilante stuff if he felt like it.

... Tucker figures he could keep an ear out for any drama in the Wayne family before he makes his move. It might actually keep any other bats and birds from getting involved, and isn't that insane to think about?

#dpxdc #dcxdp #danny phantom #danny fenton #dc x dp #dp x dc #tucker foley #danny temple #kobra cult #dp crossover #dpxdc prompt #dp x dc crossover #tim drake #red robin #this is just the spiderman meme in all kinds of directions

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sgiandubh · 16 days ago

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Imagine

Imagine you are offered an exciting, well-paid job with an up and coming spirits business, whose owner you happened to sympathize with at a work event. Imagine you really invest yourself in that job and you are so enthusiastic about it, that you even put your own business network to service. Imagine you start seeing the first results of your efforts.

Then imagine that the owner you happened to sympathize with (and who probably recruited you) has a teeny-tiny problem, the amplitude of which was absolutely impossible for you to grasp. He is also an actor and, as many actors who are actively involved in successful cinema/TV productions, he has a fandom. Some things may have been mentioned to you, such as the abusive behavior of 'some' fans - but you really had no idea and you were way too excited to make this new job opportunity work for you. You definitely didn't take any warnings too seriously: you know that series has some sort of cult-ish status and that actor is many ageing women's secret fantasy, all around the world. You probably even think it's definitely corny, but overall these ladies seem harmless enough - plus they seem to show up in droves and buy in bulk, everywhere he goes. You are way too focused on your job to notice any misconduct: you dismiss it with a laugh.

And then, someone, somewhere decides it is your turn. You have excitedly posted a snapshot of a rugby match you have been invited to by the owner of the up and coming spirits company, who happens to have an excellent relationship with the local, prestigious club and is a rugby fan himself. You are over the moon to be a part of an event that allows you to better discern the new type of customers the business hopes to attract, in the foreseeable future. You enjoy the wonderful camaraderie in the galleries: you had no idea about what rugby means to so many different people, wow!

You are, therefore, very surprised to find out some women already started to claim on the Internet you and your boss are an item. This is completely nuts: courtship seldom involves attending a rugby match, in Europe - that much you know. You begin to receive nasty, insinuating DMs on your Instagram page. You perhaps remember one of your boss's friends, a young disabled artist, has very recently been harassed by his fans and had to call the police, in order to make it stop. You decide the best thing you could do is to erase the rugby match pic: too late, it has already been screen capped, shared and discussed. This is how you also find out that some of those women think you have an agenda, that you plan to seduce your boss and that you are, at any rate, a lousy wannabe in the business world and a highly functioning alcoholic, to boot. The ones claiming so are either pretending to be experts or to have SOURCES, based on FACTS. This is beyond your understanding. You may even have a mild panic attack and you definitely feel all of this is: a) ridiculous; b) unfair and c) potentially dangerous.

Most of the women who called you out have no idea about what happens at a rugby match. They are that kind of older people who still think geishas are prostitutes, for example, because they lack proper education. They have no direct experience of the business world, let alone the spirits business world. No real facts and no logical arguments are ever presented to seriously discuss your efforts, but many smearing accusations are being written down, with full confidence. All they know is that they don't like you, because you somehow failed to comply with their own, twisted version of reality. In their books, your boss is either a closeted gay man or a lewd womanizer, with a dirty penchant for whores. This would normally make you grin, but today you're just not in that mood.

Today's your turn.

#fandom #shitshow #business #booze wars

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nativegirltapes · 2 months ago

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⸻ ┊͙ overhearing rafe and barry talking about you !

warnings: bad girls club, mentions of fingering, rafe and barry being freaks. reupload from my old acc ! not proofread cuz i am lazy !!

rafe and barry had been blowing up your phone all day, asking if you wanted to come over to barry's trailer and smoke a blunt with them, your shared groupchat with both of them was very rarely ever dry.

smoking with them usually was kind of boring, you'd all get high and then they'd start talking about some stupid shit that you had no interest in and then you'd threaten to leave, and they'd beg you to stay a little longer. but today you felt like getting some attention from your two favorite boys.

you finished final touches, putting on your favorite mini denim skirt and tossing on one of rafe's hoodies he'd left over from a few nights ago and headed outside to the door to the uber that rafe had paid for.

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ 🍰 ⟡˖ ࣪

just as you were about to walk into barry's trailer you dropped your lipgloss. bending over to pick it up, you could hear rafe and barry talking about you through the screen door. you stopped in your tracks to listen, you always wondered what they said about you when you weren't there.

"she let me finger her once." you heard barry say, immediately getting flash back to the night when rafe left barry's early, leaving you and barry alone at his trailer.

"you're fucking lying." rafe scoffed, setting the shared blunt down in the ashtray on the coffee table in front of him, taken aback by what barry said. he had to be lying, you were untouchable in his head, but there you were letting yours and his bestfreind touch you? "when?" rafe questioned, sitting back on the couch.

"why the fuck would i lie bruh?" barry copied rafe's moments, now too laid back on the couch, both of them forgetting about the blunt on the table in front of them. "she was all begging for it and shit."

rafe chuckled to himself. you? the beggar type? he didn't see that coming. when he thought about how you were in bed, you figured you would be the demanding and bratty type, because of how you talked to him and barry; always bossing someone around. but there you were begging for some dick. the thought of it made his dick grow hard. "when was this?"

"i dont know man, few weeks ago." barry scratched his head. you knew barry and rafe were practically bestfreinds, although they'd never say that, but you didn't think barry would go tell rafe your business.

"wow." rafe raised his eyebrows, partly still surprised, but mainly jealous. why were you letting barry touch you and not him? it didn't make sense.

you'd gotten down right nasty with rafe over messages before, too many times to count on both hands, but you never let him finger you or touch you. why?

"hi guys." you opened the door, walking up the trailer stairs, your short skirt riding up your thighs.

"there she is," barry grabbed the blunt back, trying to act occupied, like him and rafe weren't just talking about you. "our girl."

"what have you guys been up to?" you took a seat right next to rafe, so close to him that you were basically sitting on his lap. you confused him so much, did you want him or barry?

rafe wrapped his arm around you, bringing you somehow even closer to him. "just waiting around for the princess."

#bookshelf #bad girls club #rafe x reader x barry #rafe cameron x you #barry x reader #barry outer banks x you

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winchester-24 · 3 months ago

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Imagine calling Dean for help

The werewolf was a lot harder to deal with than you thought. While solo hunting wasn’t the best thing a hunter could do, you’ve managed to get by with minimal damage until now. The werewolf was dead but left a nasty gash on your side. Silent tears fell as the pain pulsated from your side. With shaky hands, you reached for your phone in your back pocket, praying it still worked. You whimper as you adjust to get the phone from your pocket. Pulling it out, you see the screen flash with a picture of you and another hunter. More tears fall as you dial what could be your last call.

You just needed to hear his voice.

“Hey, sweetheart.” The gruff voice came from the other side of the phone. By the sound of it, you woke him up.

“Dean.” You manage to whimper out, your voice a little shaky. Whatever sleep Dean still had is now gone.

“Darling, what’s wrong?” Fully alert, you can hear him gathering clothes to put on and Sam asking what was wrong in the background.

“You remember that hunt I told you I was going on?” The blood from your side is pooling around you; you stay looking at the sky for a sense of ignorance that you might come out of this alive.

“Yeah, the werewolf, the one I told you not to go on alone. What happened?” Dean replied quickly while also yelling at Sam to hurry up for something.

“I got ‘em, baby.” You said, tears streaming down your face. “He got me too though.” You finally let out a sob. You continue.

“I’m sure you know where I am, you always do. If you don’t make it here to save me, I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“Don’t you dare say that, Y/N; I will be there in time, and your ass is never going hunting alone again.” You smile through the tears.

“You’ve always been my knight in leather armor.” You sigh.

“Dean, I'm getting tired.” You admit wanting hard to fight, but the feeling quickly overwhelms you.

“Do not fucking fall asleep, you hear me? Stay talking to me, baby, about anything.” You hear the worry in his voice and the roar of the Impala going faster.

“Do you remember the first time we met?” You ask softly.

“Of course, I remember, sweetheart; if I had known Bobby was having other hunters come around, especially you, I would have visited him more often.” You smile and remember how your parents knew Bobby; you kept in touch with him after they died. You needed help on a case and went to him after you tried researching everything. To Bobby's surprise, the brothers happened to be showing up that day, and you and the older Winchester had a flirty fling for a while until he finally found the courage and made you two officially a couple.

“You were something else, Dean Winchester.”

“Are, baby. You're not going anywhere to need to use past tense.” You hear the Impala stop. Dean speaks again. “Okay, baby. We are parked right by your car. Where are you?” Your head was fogging, and you felt numb. It was hard to concentrate.

“Sweetheart, I need you to tell me,” Dean says frantically.

“Go straight in the direction my car is pointing, and you’ll start to see tree limbs falling as he was running around. I’m somewhere around there.” You whisper, barely able to keep your eyes open. You see lights going back and forth, like flashlights. “I think I see you, Dean; go straight.” You saw the lights stay constantly straight towards you,

And then, blackness.

The beeping sound was annoying. You tried to drift back off, but it was too constant. You groaned and fluttered your eyes open. You were in a hospital room. You didn’t feel any pain, meaning the medicine they gave you must work great. You see Sam sleeping on a chair in the corner of the room and Dean right beside you, head on your bed but holding your hand, hunched over from his chair. You smile softly at the boys—your heroes. You squeeze Dean’s hand enough for him to wake up, shooting straight up in the bed to look at you.

He took in your face, your eyes, the color back in your cheeks, and how he initially found you two days ago—lifeless, limp, and bleeding. Yelling at Sam to speed faster to the hospital, screaming at the doctors to save his girlfriend, yelling at the nurses when they wouldn’t give him an update, and while not yelling, sternly talking to your sleeping figure about how going on that hunting solo was dumb. He should have followed you even though you told him no. You will never go on a solo hunt again, and he doesn’t care how mad it makes you, how he cannot lose you because you are now the only constant thing in his messed-up world other than Sam.

“Hey, baby.” That is all you manage to get out. Voice hoarse from no liquid. Dean reaches to the side table and hands you a cup of water. You take it and sip from it, appreciating the fluid running down your throat. He watches you, so glad you’re awake, moving, just alive. You give him back the cup. He places it down and then stands up to lean to you over the bed. He kisses your forehead, then your cheeks, and finally your lips. It was the softest kiss you have felt in a while from the older brother. It felt like those kisses that you might break if he pressed any harder. He leans away and sits back down in his chair. He looks at you, relieved, but you can still see the worry in his eyes.

“You are never going to hunt alone again.” He speaks. You smile at your boyfriend, squeezing his hand once more.

“I know.”

#supernatural #dean winchester #reader insert #supernatural fanfiction #sam winchester #dean x reader

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ronearoundblindly · 3 months ago

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I am sorry but I'm going to need a Ransom story with this prompt. It can be RoaR or a one-off, he can love it or hate it in this space, he can see it over Reader's shoulder on the computer screen, your choice!

o.0 oh boi oh boi oh boi! Fall Vibes but it's gonna be my summer challenge submission to @the-slumberparty's Sundae Bar, featuring the flavors Cookies and Cream (soulmates) and Rocky Road (rags to riches) with the topping Oreos (marriage of convenience (reluctantly)). Also my second entry for @stargazingfangirl18's Birthday Bonenanza, featuring a babe in love and cranky about it + "can you just...hold me please?"

For Show Ransom Drysdale x poor!soulmate!reader

Summary: Ransom hates that you--his soulmate and wife--are nothing like him.

Warnings for smut and Ran's a**hole brain (rude, nasty thoughts that he barely even believes). Classic Lexi--this is cheeky, y'all, but you know it's because I can't help myself... MINORS DNI. Find all-age friendly fic on my Light Masterlist. WC 2.1k

Ran didn’t believe in love to start, but this is fucking ridiculous. Opposites attract? Get wrecked, asshole. He’s keeping opposites on the other side of the house. It’s not far enough.

It’s standard practice for the confirmation of matching soulmarks to act as a de facto marriage contract—common law, if you like,—and Ransom Drysdale fought tooth and nail to make you prove you had his name on you. He needed to see it with his own eyes or fuck that shit.

His is obvious; he can show it off. In fact, Ran is surprised by how long it took you to come forward, considering his family and status, considering his lifestyle of being very visible.

But no, he had to wait for a fucking database to pop out record of his match from your healthcare provider, and he had wait for that because the government knew about your health…because they know such things…about people who need their fucking money. The registration of soulmarks puts the financial responsibility on the soulmate if they end up having the means.

Now Ran is responsible for you, a woman he made lower the front of her panties in open court to reveal his goddamn name in his own goddamn handwriting imprinted right above her goddamn cunt, and suddenly it became his cunt, his problem, his responsibility.

You’re not even fun. You had no money and didn’t care to have any, so you moved your few, ratty belongings into his home, replacing nothing, offering nothing in return for his—well, in return for every fucking thing he has now being yours, too. It’s so fucked.

You don’t want to show off, and he has no intention of showing you off. He can’t be seen with you, not without the proper clothes or jewelry, and you refused to get them. Instead, Ransom leaves you alone in the house, doing whatever he wants, whenever he wants, as always. He won’t talk to you because he just gets furious every time. He’s not going to have deep conversations about the state of the world, though he might have one social justice issue he can fight for: the mother-fucking law that made you his wife without question.

Ran slams the kitchen cabinet storing all-white, matching stoneware mugs when he notices what’s missing: your single, sad, flea market mug. It’s clay so it always looks dirty, and he hates it.

He lightly punches his own neck in irritation.

He didn’t stand a chance fighting the marriage, not with your name in deep, port red letters creeping up his throat, higher than any turtleneck he’s ever owned. Coupled with his legal name resting snuggly beneath your pubes, it was obviously, technically accurate that you’re soulmates. When was the last time someone challenged that system, he thinks. That might be a better use of his money than—

Where are you anyway?

For all his annoyance, he hasn’t set eyes on you for days.

His house is large enough (and he spends so much time anywhere else) that you have your own room, which you didn’t question, and the kitchen is easy enough to share when one of you eats out with other people (as he does two to three times a day). You get the slightly bigger and more formal living room while Ran gets the den with the big TV. Really it’s been the perfect system for almost forgetting you exist.

He pours tea into his clean, white mug and leaves said big TV fairly loud on some program he wasn’t paying attention to, leaning over the granite countertop to see if he can spot you from this angle.

No luck.

He steps closer, sipping.

A little closer, more sipping, a purposeful smack of his lips to grab your attention if you are just around the corner.

There are two openings, both far larger than doorways, to the living room, each through the central hall. When he doesn’t immediately see you, he steps to the farther opening. What the—

What’d you do to his couch?

Is that every single pillow and blanket from your side of the house?

Did Yankee Candle Company throw up in here?

What, the fucking fireplace wasn’t enough ambiance for you? You had to make some sort of nest with his stuff? And there’s that ugly-ass mug, no coaster, on his super-expensive, reclaimed hardwood coffee table.

A pillow shifts.

No, not a pillow; it’s your back, and when you shift again, Ran sees one of the plush throw blankets slink farther down your bare skin. It’s the largest swath of your body he’s ever seen.

You lay with your arms folded, peering out the windows behind the couch, and you still haven’t fucking noticed him.

He huffs before realizing he isn’t listening to the faint TV anymore, but when he ticks his head, he sees your TV isn’t on either.

“”I think of nothing but you as I fall asleep at night”—” Ran hears a woman’s voice fake a deeper tone before switching to normal “—Javier says, pulling her soft curves into his hard body—”

You sigh dreamily and wiggle on the cushions. The blanket slides over the swell of your ass.

Ran stops moving mid-sip of tea.

“”Please, my darling, let me have you—“ this is fucking terrible, he thinks “—as only a lover can.””

Alright, now Ransom is just sad. You’re naked in his living room, rubbing your thighs together and listening to an erotic novel on your phone.

“Chloe felt his digits dance across her clavicle, his eyes enchanted by her heaving bosom…”

Go out to a club or restaurant with him? No. Wear nice clothes he could buy you? Nope.

“”Javi,” she gasps, distracted by his rough palm groping her breast hungrily, “I can’t believe you want me.””

Ran is going to fucking gag at the whining appall in the narrator’s voice.

Why listen to this awful shit instead of show off him as your husband? From the quick shiver racing down your spine and the curl of your toes where they hang over the cushion’s edge, it’s because you’re fucking horny for it.

Good god, how low are your standards?

He stalks forward, feet hitting the floor hard until he reaches the plush rug.

Startled, you peer over your shoulder at him, eyes wide like a deer in the headlights, and you begin scrambling to recover yourself.

Ran puts his cup down by yours. “Don’t move,” he orders, and to his surprise, you obey, keeping you head turned his direction and sinking back into the pillows.

“”How could you doubt? From the moment I met you, I adored you.””

He swivels to face the same direction as you, reaches out his hand and mime the stroke he’s contemplating tracing over your curves.

“”I’m yours,” Chloe breathes, Javier’s growing member signaling his desire against her silk-covered core.”

Ran finally bends until the tip of his middle finger grazes the inside of your thigh.

As he drags it over one cheek and down the other, you whine and push your ass toward his hand.

That’s…not bad, all things considered. You are his wife, after all, and you clearly want to be fucked. He won’t argue that having some other woman’s name scrawled on him hasn’t limited his game for quite a while. Financially independent or not, when a pussy is presented to him, Ransom will say ‘yes.’

He stops noticing the audio from your phone and just dives in, no sentiments or kind words of his own. He simply unbuckles his belt, pops the button of this jeans, and rips that zipper down before teasing your folds to find enough slick at your entrance to swirl around. He spreads you and your wetness with purpose. Each second that passes drives Ransom a little bit more insane.

Impatient, strung out like a virgin on prom night, he rushes to shove his pants out of the way and kicks one knee up between your legs, his other foot still on the floor. He pumps his fingers inside you until he’s knuckle-deep and nearly dripping, manhandling your hips to the right height to sink his tip into you.

Ran groans at how fucking good you feel. He’s probably just desperate. He’d be excited about any ol’ means to come right now.

He snaps his hips in small thrusts until his whole length glides in and out in seamless stimulation. You’ve buried your face in the pillow, so he can’t hear if you make any noise. He can, however, see your hands scratch at the upholstery and clench into fists. He can see you deepen the arch of your back, angling his dick to fuck just slightly down through your channel. The pressure squeezes the spongy head of his cock like a vice. He’ll never say it out loud, but your pussy is fucking perfect. God fucking dammit.

Ransom relentlessly drives into you, catching the sideview of your breasts bouncing each time his thighs slap yours. He smacks your ass once just to see if it jiggles for him, and that’s when your hand snakes to disappear between your legs. He expects you’re going for your clit which is good because he’s about to get off and get lost, but instead, he feels your soft fingers cup his balls.

He’s so enamored by the sensation that he switches to tiny pulses deep in your cunt while your hand wraps and rolls his sac gently. Twitching and tensing, Ran unabashedly moans until your walls constrict around his length.

He’s got to make you do that again.

Ransom collapses forward to lean over you, his own hand diving to find your clit, resting his palm right over your mound and soulmark. Every inch of his body burns hot with need. He humps wildly, resting his chin over your shoulder.

“”I don’t care how, Javi, just stick it in there. I need you. I need you so badly…””

“Jesus Christ,” Ran growls, “are they still not fucking?”

A giggle bursts from your lips, a sweet, happy sound he’s never heard from you before, and you reach for him. Your palm lands on his soulmark, your fingers curling to scratch the hairs at the nape of his neck, and there’s…there’s…

He can’t comprehend how your body fits his so well. He can’t reconcile this sudden swell of obsession in his gut for you. He’s enveloped in a binary system of souls, gravity tugging at that connection between you.

Ran doesn’t believe in love or destiny. He refuses. He believes in pleasure and perception, in accumulation and ownership.

The only thought left in his static-filled head is mine, mine, mine, mine.

He falls over the edge first, a satisfied shout punctuating each spurt he plants within you, furiously working your messy clit and kneading one breast in his free hand until he feels that squeeze again, and again, and again, dying to a flutter just as your shared cum leaks out around his cock.

By this time, Ran is panting and resting a sizable portion of his weight on you, knees knocked loose in his onslaught, pushing you both flat to the chaise cushion, feet dangling off the end.

You still hold each other’s mark in a comforting palm.

He’s speechless as the room fills with heated love declarations amidst passionate sex and bad dialogue. Ran tries to catch his fucking breath. He’s glad you don’t speak either.

Everything about his life—his past, his present, his future—sits utterly raw in front of him, and he can’t cope.

He makes the mistake of peeling his body off yours, releasing you and dislodging your hand. The cold emptiness which immediately sweeps over him is sickening, and Ran barely waits for you to roll onto your back before he wedges himself between your legs again, instinctually laying on his side, pressing his sweater-clad shoulder against your sopping folds just so he can rest his soulmark right on top of yours.

Euphoria returns to his body and mind, thick like honey and all-consuming.

He doesn’t want to admit it. He doesn’t want to talk about. He doesn’t want to live a moment without you.

Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.

Mercifully, the audio speaks for him.

“”Can you just…hold me please? That was…that was…””

“”So intense,” Javier rumbles, “so beautiful.””

Ransom, the preening trust fund baby, has finally found something all his own, something he doesn’t want to share, something shown only for him.

He refuses, however, to call it ‘love’…

…yet.

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

A/N: I'm fine.

#ro answers #sundae bar #navy and roo's sleepover #sleepover challenge #summer challenge #happy birthday siri 2024 #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale smut #ransom drysdale x female reader #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale fic #soulmate au

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