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creatingblackcharacters · 5 months

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"Let's Have a Talk, First"- Stereotypes, pt 1

Come sit down. You and I, before we get into any of the things I'm sure you're impatient to know: we need to have a come to Jesus talk, first.

There are some things that I've been asked and seen that strengthens my belief that we need to have a reframing of the conversation on stereotypes in media away from something as simple as "how do I find the checklist of stereotypes to avoid". Because race- and therefore racial stereotypes- is a complex construct! Stands to reason then, that seeing, understanding, and avoiding it won't be that simple! I'm going to give you a couple pointers to (hopefully) help you rethink your approach to this topic, and therefore how to apply it when you're writing Black characters- and even when thinking about Black people!

Point #1: DEVELOP THE CHARACTER!! WRITE!!

Excuse my crude language, but let me be blunt: Black people- and therefore Black characters- will get angry at things, and occasionally make bad choices in the heat of the moment. Some of us like to fuck real nasty, some might be dominant in the bedroom, they may even be incredibly experienced! Others of us succumb to circumstance and make poor decisions that lead to crime.

None of those things inherently makes any of us angry Black women and threatening Black men, Jezebels and BBC Mandingos, and gangsters and thugs!

Black people are PEOPLE! Write us as such!

If all Black characters ever did was go outside, say "hi neighbor!" and walk back in the house, we'd be as boring as racist fans often accuse.

I say this because I feel I've seen advice that I feel makes people think writing a Black character that… Emotes negatively, or gets hurt by life and circumstance, or really enjoys hard sex, or really any scenario where they might "look bad" is the issue. I can tell many people think "well if I write that, then it's a stereotype" and to avoid the difficulty, they'll probably end up writing a flat Black character or not writing them at all. Or- and I've seen this too- they'll overcompensate in the other direction, which reveals that they 'wrote a different sort of Black person!' and it comes off just as awkwardly because it means you think that the Black people that do these things are 'bad'. And I hate that, because we're capable of depth, nuance, good, evil, adventure, world domination, all of it!

My point is, if you write your character like the human being they are, while taking care to recognize that you as the writer are not buying into stereotypes with your OWN messaging, you're fine. We have emotions, we have motivations and goals, we make decisions, and we make mistakes, just like anybody else. Write that! Develop your character!

POINT #2: YOU CAN'T CONTROL THE READERS!!

Okay. You can write the GREATEST Black character ever, full of depth, love, nuance, emotional range, all those things…. And people are still going to be racist about them. Sorry. There is absolutely nothing you can do to control a reader coming from that place of bias you sought to avoid. If it's not there, TRUST AND BELIEVE, it'll be projected onto them.

That passionate young Black woman who told the MC to get her head out of her ass? Yeah she's an angry Black bitch now, and bully to the sweet white MC. Maybe a lesbian mommy figure if they like her enough to "redeem" her. That Black gay male lead that treats his partner like he worships the ground he walks on? Yeah he's an abusive thug that needs to die now because he disagreed One Time with his white partner. That Black trans woman who happened to be competing against the white MC, in a story where the white MC makes comparable choices? Ohhhh they're gonna be VILE about that poor woman.

It really hurts- most especially as a Black fan and writer- knowing that you have something amazing to offer (as a person and creative) and people are gonna spit on that and call it "preference". That they can project themselves onto white characters no matter what, but if you project your experiences onto black characters, it's "pandering", "self insert", "woke", "annoying", "boring", and other foul things we've all gotten comments of.

But expect that it's gonna happen when you write a Black character, again, especially if you're a Black writer. If you're not Black, it won't hurt as personally, but it will probably come as a shock when you put so much effort in to create a lovely character and people are just ass about them. Unfortunately, that is the climate of fandom we currently exist in.

My favorite example is of Louis De Pointe Du Lac from AMC's Interview With The Vampire. Louis is actually one of the best depictions of the existential horror that is being Black in a racist White world I have ever seen written by mostly nonblack people. It was timeless; I related to every single source of racist pain he experienced.

People were HORRIFIC about Louis.

It didn't matter that he was well written and what he symbolized; many white viewers did NOT LIKE this man. There's a level of empathy and understanding that Black characters in particular don't receive in comparison to white counterparts, and that's due to many of those stereotypes and systemic biases I'm going to talk about.

My point is, recognize that while yes, you as the author have a duty to write a character thoughtfully as you can, it's not going to stop the response of the ignorant. Writing seeking to get everyone to understand what you were trying to do… Sisyphean effort. It's better to focus on knowing that YOU wrote something good, that YOU did not write the stereotype that those people are determined to see.

POINT #3: WHY is something a stereotype?

While there are lists of stereotypes against Black people in media and life that can be found, I would appreciate if people stopped approaching it as just a list of things you can check off to avoid. You can know what the stereotypes are, sure, but if you don't understand WHY they're a problem and how they play into perception of us, you'll either end up writing a flat character trying to avoid that list, or you're going to write other things related to that stereotype because "oh its not item #1"... and it'll still be racist.

For example: if you wrote a "sassy Black woman" that does a z formation neck rotation just because a store manager asked her something… that's probably stereotype. If you thought of a character that needed to be "loudmouthed", "sassy", and "strong" and a dark-skinned black woman was automatically what fit the profile in your mind, ding ding ding! THAT'S where you need to catch your racist biases.

But a dark-skinned Black woman character cursing out a store manager because she's had a really bad, stressful day and their attitude towards her pushed her over the edge may be in the wrong, but she's not an "angry Black woman". She's a Black woman that's angry! And if you wrote the day she had to be as bad as would drive anyone to overstimulation and anxiety, the blow up will make sense! The development and writing behind her led to this logical point (which connects to point #1!)

I'm not going to provide a truly exhaustive list of Black stereotypes in media because that would ACTUALLY be worth a college credited class and I do this for free lmao. But I am going to provide some classic examples that can get y'all started on your own research.

POINT #4: WATCH BLACK NARRATIVES!

As always, I'm gonna push supporting Black creators, because that's the best way to see the range of what you'd like. You want to see Black villains? We got those! Black heroes? Black antiheroes? Assholes, lovers, comedians, depressed, criminals, kings, and more? They exist! You can get inspired by watching those movies and reading those books, see how WE depict us!

I've seen mixed reviews on it, BUT- I personally really enjoyed Swarm, because it was one of the first times I'd ever seen that "unhinged obsessed murderous Black fan girl" concept. Tumblr usually loves that shit lmao. Even the "bites you bites you bites you [thing I love]" thing was there. And she liked girls, too. Just saying. I thought it was a fun idea that I'd love to see more of. Y'all gotta give us a chance to be in these roles, to tell these tales. We can do it too, and you'd enjoy it if you tried to understand it!

POINT#5: You are NOT Black!

This is obvious lmao, but if you're not Black, there's no need to pretend. There's no need to think "oh well I have to get a 100% perfect depiction of the Black person's mind". That's… That's gonna look cringe, at its best. You don't have to do that in order to avoid stereotypes. You're not going to be able to catch every nuance because it's not your lived experience, nor is it the societally enforced culture. Just… Do what you can, and if you feel like it's coming off hokey… Maybe consider if you want to continue this way lol. If you know of any Black beta readers or sensitivity reviewers, that'd be a good time to check in!

For example, if your Black character is talking about "what's good my homie" and there's absolutely no reason for him to be speaking that way other than to indicate that he's Black… 😬 I can't stop you but… Are you sure?

An egregious example of a TERRIBLE way to write a Black character is the "What If: Miles Morales/Thor" comic. I want to emphasize the lack of good Black character design involved in some of these PROFESSIONAL art spaces, because that MARVEL comic PASSED QA!! That comic went past NUMEROUS sets of eyes and was APPROVED!! IT GOT RELEASED!! NO ONE STOPPED IT!!

I'm sorry, it was just so racist-ly bad that it was hilarious. Like you couldn't make that shit up.

Anyway, unfortunately that's how some of y'all sound trying to write AAVE. I promise that we speak the Queen's English too lmao. If you're worried you won't get it right, just use the standard form of English. It's fine! Personally, I'd much rather you do that than try to 'decode AAVE' if you don't know how to use it.

My point is, if you're actively "forcing" yourself to "think Black"… maybe you need to stand down and reconsider your approach lmao. This is why understanding the stereotypes and social environment behind them will help you write better, because you can incorporate that Blackness- without having to verbally "emphasize how Black this is"- into their character, motivations, and actions.

Conclusion

We need to reconsider how we approach the concepts of stereotypes when writing our Black characters. The goal is not to cross off a checklist of things to avoid per se, but to understand WHY we have to develop our Black characters well enough to avoid incorporating them into our writing. Give your Black characters substance- we're human beings! We have motivations and fears and desires! We're not perfect, but we're not inherently flawed because of our race. That's what makes the difference!

And as always, and really in particular for this topic, it's the thought that counts, but the action that delivers!

#creatingblackcharacters #character design #black characters #black character design #black culture #stereotypes #antiblackness

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swordsandholly · 2 months

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Cherry Bomb - tattoo parlor au

MDNI | poly 141 x fem fat reader | masterlist

Part 8: Nobody’s Son, Nobody’s Daughter

You hate how weak you are, sometimes.

That a text can ruin your whole day.

>> Hey. I hope you’re doing well. I miss hearing from you.

You’re fuming. Absolutely fuming. In under fifteen seconds you’re on your feet, face hot and heart pounding as you stomp across the old wooden floor.

“I’ll be right back.” You grunt to Johnny and Kyle, ignoring their wide, confused eyes and fast walking past them and out the back door.

The sun is up for longer now, only just beginning to set. It’s hot and hard to breathe, which only makes you more pissed off. Your skin prickles and blood rushes in your ears. You hate the way your hands shake. Your boot connects with the dumpster hard. It hurts, but you’re too pissed to really care. You just need it out of your system - the metal sending a ringing, gong-like sound bouncing around the back alley as you repeatedly slam your foot into it.

How dare he?

Miss hearing from you? YOU?

He ignores you for your whole childhood and teenage years - didn’t even try - and he misses hearing from you!? Couldn’t ever remember your age or grade when you did see him and he hopes your doing well!? Blew you off for his other kids for years and he fucking misses you!

How the hell did he even get your new number? Your mom, probably. The traitor. Fuck.

“Think that bin’s ‘ad enough, bird.” Simons voice startles you. He glances down at the dent you somehow managed to make. Your foot throbs when you put it back on the ground, shifting your weight onto the other one. One of your toes is bleeding, you think. You hand feel it soaking into your sock.

You look away, face hot from embarrassment now. “Didn’t know anyone was out here…”

Simon takes you in for a moment. Usually you don’t mind it - his intense silences - but right now it feels like being dissected. Like he’s pulling your skin back to reveal that squirming, tar-like creature aways simmering just a layer beneath. The pathetic little worm you try so hard to cover with a functional facade.

“Smoke?” He tilts the pack toward you. You wrinkle your nose - it’s a shit brand - but at the moment you wouldn’t care if it was made of actual shit as long as it had nicotine.

You pick one out and plop down on the weird curb that lines the opposite side of the alley. Simon sits beside you, raising his lighter toward you cupping his hand around the little flame to light your cigarette. It’s intimate, in a way, and if you had the emotional elasticity for it you might have blushed.

“Wanna talk about it?” He asks after a few drags.

You shrug. “Dads suck.”

Simon hums. “That they do.”

“It’s just like-“ You make an exasperated sound and run your fingers through your hair. “Like if you’re not around for fuckin’ twenty years, you don’t get to act upset when I don’t want to talk ever. Just because now I’m the one that set the boundary. It’s stupid. It’s mean.”

Simon nods along as you ramble, your voice trailing off eventually. You both sit there quietly, for a moment. This is the type of silence that you don’t mind. Enjoy, even. Just existing together. At first you thought he hated you, or just didn’t like much of anybody, but you’ve come to theorize that he’s the same as you. That he gets stuck in his head, too. It’s nice, having someone to sit with without the need to entertain them. To preform.

Your lip quivers even as you attempt to stop it by sinking your teeth in. A killing blow. It doesn’t work. You bury your face in your hands. “I don’t know why I’m crying…”

“Because you’re hurt.” Simon bluntly replies. It’s soft, though. As soft as a voice like his can be.

“He doesn’t deserve it.” You sob, messily wiping at your eyes. Your eyeshadow is probably smudged to hell now but you can’t bring yourself to care. Hopefully the others don’t ask about it.

An arm wraps around you, tucking you close. The surprise of it almost knocks you out of your crying fit entirely. Simon isn’t touchy. With anyone. He doesn’t look at you, just keeps his eyes forward while he takes a long drag, but that arm remains around your shaking shoulders with you pressed to his side.

It’s quiet, as it usually is when you close up with just Simon. The others took off for the night. Johnny said something about a date before dragging Kyle off arm in arm. They must have set up some kind of double date for the evening. John’s last appointment had to reschedule so he knocked off early as well. It’s nice, really, to be alone in the shop with Simon. He lowers the music, helps you with sweeping and the trash. Tells you the newest joke from wherever the hell he gets them. Popsicles, you think, based on his sweet tooth and the quality of pun.

“C’mon. We’re takin’ a field trip.” Simon tilts his head toward the street past the turn to your apartment. He still insists on walking you home, even if the sky is still relatively bright.

You look up, frowning. “Where?”

“You’ll see.”

You follow him down the quiet street. It’s warm and muggy as you go. You keep glancing up at Simon, waiting for some sort of tell. Some hint at where he’s leading you. In the back of your mind, you become innately aware that Simon is probably the only man you’d follow this blindly.

You nearly knock into him when Simon comes to a sudden stop. “Here.”

You look up, squinting at the tacky sign in what you can only describe as “intense manly man” font. Bold, blocky letters in bright orange with faux cracks scattered through the letters.

TANTRUM TANK

A mixture of stunned and curious leaves you quietly following Simon in. You press the spot between your brows to dissipate the confused frown. The lobby is pretty basic with a few decorations that mimic the style of the sign. Cracked facades and black walls. The room is lined with plastic chairs and a couple safety posters reminding patrons not to hit each other with the bats. A large television screen flashes between images of people in hazmat suits smashing various garbage and debris, pausing on a menu of times and prices.

“Simon!” A man appears behind the counter, face bright. “Here for your usual hour?”

Simon steps up to the counter, nodding in your direction. “Actually, I’ve got a plus one.”

The man’s brows raise and he looks you over, giving you ashort, polite greeting. You nod and smile back, pretending like you know why you’re here at all. You just watch as Simon briefly chats with the clerk who obviously knows him well. He’s a regular here, then. He doesn’t give anything away, just makes some brief, perfunctory small talk before taking a key and waving you after him. Why’d he bring you here, of all people?

Your heart skips at the thought of Simon wanting to do something with you, though. He brought you here because he wants to hang out - in his own way. He must do this with the other boys, too. Maybe one of them bailed on him or something. Part of you wonders if he didn’t want to come alone, but that doesn’t sound like him. Plus, you can’t say that its’ at all out of character for him to decide something and just do it with no other communication. You also can’t say you mind much. Not with him.

“You come here with the others a lot?” You ask as you follow him back to the room.

“No.”

You frown. Oh.

The two of you lapse into silence as you put your things away into designated lockers. There’s a sort of interim room before the actual rage room with storage and a few stacks of protective gear in various sizes. Simon’s quick about it. Practiced. He slips on the protective plastic suit quickly while you grunt and struggle with unfolding it. Your hair crinkles with static as you finally get the mass of plastic unfurled and step into it. Of course the one that fits you around is too damn long. At least the gloves fit.

“Simon?” You murmur, finally finding your voice - as weak as it comes out. “Why’d you bring me here?”

He looks you over for a moment with that same steady gaze as before. You’ve never felt seen like you do with Simon. Even with the others… they don’t see to the core of you like he does. Maybe that’s just wishful thinking. Some pathetic little part of you left over from your misunderstood teenage years.

“I ’ad a pretty shite father.” Simon says as he zips up his suit. “Taught me a lot of anger. I didn’t- I don’t want to be like ‘im. Don’t want people t’be scared…”

You stare, wide eyed, frozen in place. As if any movement would disrupt this new found honesty - would frighten the man away from confiding in you. It’s sudden and far more than you’ve gotten out of him in the months you’ve known each other. It’s too special to risk.

“Sometimes you’ve got t’get it out of your system. Better than breaking your foot on a skip.” He snorts, stepping forward and carefully pushing a pair of safety glasses over your eyes. One hand runs over your hair just for the briefest moment; another lightly pats your cheek before he turns on his heel, grabbing one of the bats hanging on the wall and making for the door.

You stare after him, shell shocked by both the admission and uncharacteristic physical touch. You involuntarily reach up to trace your fingertips over the cheek he touched.

Don’t want people to be scared…

A part of you breaks in the back of your mind. The obvious, unsaid ‘of me’ sits heavily on your tongue. Some distant image of what he might have looked like as a child. Small and blonde with those big dark eyes… You gulp down a tight breath and follow after him, just a little too close to crying at the implication.

Simon gestures toward a crooked, half broken office desk. “Ladies first.”

And oh, if that first swing wasn’t the best release you’ve had in a long, long time.

A/N: Sorry for being inactive the past couple weeks, I could literally write a novel with how much as happened irl🙃

Anyhoo next part y’all are getting lots of Price because that homecoming skin has got me fucked up

#simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #poly 141 x reader #poly 141 #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #ghost x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #captain john price x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #call of duty #cod #cod x reader #plus size reader #fat reader #fem reader #ghost cod

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monzabee · 2 months

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prison for life - mv1

masterlist ||

Summary: The one where if anybody hurts you, Max is going to prison for life.

Pairing: max verstappen x pregnant!reader

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: fluff, pregnancy, mentions of throwing up, cursing, kinda angsty in some places, jos verstappen

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! i’ve been in such a max mood recently that is actually shocking to me, but i just needed some fluffy anything after working on smutty pieces for weeks. i got this idea in my dream and honestly i think it turned out better than i could’ve imagined!! feedback is always appreciated, and my requests are currently open if you want to check that out, i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.

If you would have to choose a word to describe Max, it would be ‘overprotective’, because that’s what he is. It’s not a bad thing, per say. He isn’t overbearing or controlling at all, but he is simply overprotective. And if you thought he was overprotective when the two of you were dating or when you first got married, you have to admit that you were not, at all, prepared for his protectiveness when you told him that you were pregnant. Apart from his initial meltdown over becoming a dad, or rather becoming like his own father, Max has been pretty chill about the whole thing – with the exception being your safety, of course. The underlying problem isn’t the fact that you’re some sort of daredevil because you’re not, the problem is the fact that Max believes that everything is out to get you.

The olives you wanted to eat for breakfast? Choking hazard.

The candles you bought for the living room (to be purely decorative, but still)? Fire hazard.

The pool lounger Victoria thought would be a cute addition to the pool? Drowning hazard.

The seatbelt in his car that is surprisingly tight? Could be all three, according to Max, given the right (or wrong) circumstances.

So, yeah, maybe he wasn’t that scared of becoming a dad, but he was surely scared of you being in danger. That’s why you agreed to stay back for the most races this year – you knew he didn’t need to worry about you or your baby’s safety on top of the stress he had to deal with during the usual racing weekend. That was until you realised how much you would miss your boyfriend after almost a month of not seeing him due to a triple header. And so, you did the thing any person with a common sense would do – flying out to see him without telling him beforehand, because what’s the fun in that?

The sheer look of shock on his face might be the funniest thing you’ve ever seen when you meet him in his driver’s room, but of course Max doesn’t share the same sentiment as you. Because all he chooses to focus is the fact that you were on a plane – a 0.23% risk out of very 7.7 million flights each year, but still. He spends at least half an hour, just checking you over and assuring himself that you and the baby are fine; at some point he decides that you need to go to the nearest hospital to get an ultrasound just to make sure the baby is okay, but you tell him to fuck off and calm his tits down in the kindest way possible. And that’s how the two of you end up on the small couch in his driver’s room, with his arms around you as you lay between his legs, his hands splayed on the swell of your stomach as he caresses the skin through the fabric of your dress. His voice is low as he tells you about his day, mostly media duties since it is only Thursday, and how he thinks putting a cat tree in the nursery is a bad idea (that was your idea initially, but you can see how having two rumbunctious cats hang out in the nursery could cause problems).

“I also thought about something else,” he mumbles, suddenly busying himself with the flower pattern of your dress instead of looking at you.

You raise your brows slightly, motioning him to continue, but let out a huff when he doesn’t do so right away. “Come on,” you whine softly, “tell me what it is Maxie.”

“I don’t want him to get into karting.” His words are soft, mumbled, and most definitely final. You know how Max can be when he puts his mind into it, and this particular topic has been a discussion in your household ever since the two of you found out that you were having a boy. “I don’t want him to go through what I went through.”

Letting out a soft exhale, you motion Max to six next to you on the couch. “He won’t,” you assure him, voice soft as you give pleading looks at him, “you’re not your father, Max.” He gives you a look that basically begs for you to not dwell on the topic, but you continue despite the look he gives you, “And what if he wants to get into karting? Are you going to tell him no?”

Max tries his best to ignore the knowing look you give him, knowing very well that he won’t be able to ever say ‘no’ to his son, who already has him wrapped around his finger. “I might do that, you never know.” He grumbles, hiding his face in your hair – though the soft giggles coming from you manages to put a soft smile on his face. “You’re supposed to agree with me, you know, we have to be a united front.”

“We’ll discuss it when the baby comes, until then, I’ll be the voice of reason.” You emphasise, poking him at his bicep to convey your point. “You feel better now?”

“Kinda,” he murmurs, leaving small kisses onto the exposed skin of your shoulder as he keeps on murmuring against your skin, “I would feel better if I knew you stayed in bed all day, relaxing.”

With that, you choke a loud laugh, and motion him to stand up as you try to do it yourself – though, of course, he has to help with the baby bump being in the way of you doing any sort of physical activity. “You’re funny, let’s go get me ice cream.”

The only response you get back is a confused look from your husband, his head tilted to the side as he eyes you warily. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Um, excuse me?” You raise an eyebrow, “Your son,” pointing to your stomach, you emphasise your words, “is craving ice cream right now.”

Max’s eyes soften instantly, and a smile creeps across his face. He nods, taking your hand gently as he helps you up. “Well, if my son wants ice cream, then ice cream he shall have.”

You giggle as you both make your way out of the driver’s room, Max's hand never leaving yours. The paddock is bustling with activity, but for a moment, it feels like it's just the two of you, cocooned in your little world. As you approach the nearest concession stand, Max’s protective instincts kick in once again. “Is this ice cream stand safe? How long have they been here? Do they have the proper health certifications?”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Max, it’s ice cream, not a five-course meal. I’m sure it’s fine.” He sighs but nods, deciding to trust your judgment. After all, you did manage to fly all the way here without incident and somehow alerting him. You both get a generous serving of your favourite flavours, and as you sit down to enjoy your treat, you feel a sense of normalcy and contentment wash over you.

Max watches you with a tender expression, his eyes filled with a mixture of love and worry. “I know I can be overprotective,” he says softly, reaching out to brush a stray hair from your face, “but it’s only because I love you so much.”

You smile, leaning into his touch. “I know, Max. And I love you too. But sometimes, you need to trust that everything will be okay. We’ll figure things out together, just like we always do.”

He nods, his gaze shifting to your belly. “You’re right. I guess I need to talk to my mom.”

“Why?” You ask, tilting your head to the side in curiosity.

“Well, she promised me she’d look after you but you’re here, so I think we need to have a talk about not keeping secrets from each other.” He mumbles, dragging a hand down his face.

You laugh, nudging him playfully. “Oh, Maxie, who do you think helped me with my bags at the airport? Your mom is unsurprisingly a strong woman.”

He chuckles softly, shaking his head. “I should’ve known better than to think you’d stay put for a whole month.” He sighs, but there’s a smile playing on his lips. “Alright, but next time, at least let me know you’re planning something. My heart can only take so much.”

Max feels a lot better after tricking you with ice-cream into at least staying put withing the Red Bull hospitality for the day as he gets through his media duties. Max feels a lot better after tricking you with ice cream into at least staying put within the Red Bull hospitality for the day as he gets through his media duties. He periodically checks in, making sure you're comfortable and well-fed. Each time he sneaks a glance your way, you catch him with a knowing smile and a roll of your eyes, and he returns it with a wink. He knows that there is absolutely no reason for him to be checking on you as much as he does, because you’ll be fine in the cool hospitality suite with enough water to keep you hydrated for years, but he can’t help but worry about anything and everything going wrong. And his worries prove to be true when he sees the one person who he definitely doesn’t want around you.

“What are you doing here?” He asks the approaching figure, “I thought you were not going to be coming to this race but the next one.”

“Given the drop in your performance in the last few races I thought I should be here for... support.” His dad supplies, eyes finding you behind his son’s back on one of the couches in the hospitality, “And I can see the reason for why you’ve been distracted lately, what is she doing here?”

Max scoffs, crossing his arms on his chest protectively, “She’s my wife, she is more than welcome to be here.”

“She’s also a distraction, Max,” his father points out, “you’re going to lose your focus if you keep–”

Since Max is faster than his father where it matters the most, he cuts him off before he can say anything further. “Leave, I don’t want you here.”

Max’s father looks taken aback, his eyes widening momentarily before they narrow into a scowl. “Excuse me?” he says, his voice low and dangerous.

“You heard me,” Max replies firmly, his stance unwavering. “I don’t want you here if you’re going to criticize my wife and stress me out, or worse, stress her out.”

“You’re being irrational,” his father argues, taking a step closer. “I’m just trying to help you stay focused.” Seeing that his son is not going to back down anytime soon, he points a threatening finger towards him. “I’ll be back on race day, but you better be ready to put in a winning performance,” his father finishes, his voice laced with finality. He turns on his heel and walks away, leaving a tense silence in his wake.

Max sighs deeply, running a hand through his hair as he watches his father disappear into the crowd. Looking back at you over his shoulder, talking to some interns from the social media team, he can’t help but feel the dread of you having to face his father – which gives him another reason to somehow stop the two of you from running into each other during the weekend.

On Friday, Max’s luck decides to do him a favour as you tell him that you’re not feeling well enough to go to the track with him for the qualifying, and though it is true that he wants you to be with him, he also realises that this will give him one less thing to worry about. He knows how stressful it can be for you to navigate the bustling paddock and deal with the crowds, especially with the added pressure of possibly encountering his father.

“You rest up, okay?” he says, his voice full of concern. “I'll be back as soon as I can. If you need anything, just call me.”

You nod, giving him a reassuring smile. “I will, Max. Good luck today. We'll be cheering you on from here.”

Max leans down to kiss your forehead gently as he mumbles into your skin, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you reply, your voice soft and comforting, “be careful out there, okay?”

Max has one goal throughout qualifying, and to his team principal’s dismay, it is not being on pole. His one and only goal is to get the session done with as quickly as possible and get back to you as soon as he can. After the session ends, he barely waits for the car to come to a stop before jumping out and heading straight for the hospitality suite. His team notices his urgency but knows better than to question it once he tells them he’ll pay whatever fine the FIA will give him for missing his interviews.

Bursting through the door, Max finds you resting comfortably on the couch, a cup of tea in your hands. The sight of you immediately calms his racing heart. “Hey,” he says softly, walking over to sit beside you. “How are you feeling?”

You smile up at him, still in his team gear and the hat he almost never takes off, the warmth in your eyes easing his worries. “Better, now that you're here. How did it go?”

“Starting on pole,” he replies, mostly in a mumble, taking your hand in his. “But all I could think about was getting back to both of you.”

You squeeze his hand, your expression tender. “I'm proud of you, Max. You did great.”

He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “Thanks. Let's just relax for the rest of the day, hm? I want to hold you to make sure you’re not getting out of this bed until tomorrow.”

“You know, I would be happier about this proposal if it was until different circumstances,” you sigh, earning a laugh from him as he pulls you towards his chest, being careful not to spill your tea, of course. Why? Because it is a safety hazard, of course.

As you settle back into the bed together, Max feels a sense of relief wash over him. The stress of the day melts away in your presence, and he realizes how much he needs these quiet moments with you to forget all about the outside world and focus his energy on what actually matters instead.

The next day, feeling much better, you prepare to join Max at the track for the race. He’s still concerned but reassured by your determination to support him. As you arrive at the paddock together, Max is more attentive than ever, keeping an eye out for his father in hopes of trying to prevent the two of you running into each other. Navigating through the bustling paddock, Max keeps a protective arm around your waist, and a hand on your bump whenever the two of you stand somewhere talking to someone, guiding you through the throngs of people. His eyes constantly scan the crowd, his jaw set in a determined line. The other drivers and team members greet you warmly, and you return their smiles, feeling the anticipation that surrounds you.

“Max, relax a bit,” you whisper, squeezing his hand as you notice the tension in his posture.

He glances down at you, his expression softening slightly. “I just want to make sure everything’s okay.”

“I know,” you reply, reaching up to stroke his cheek, “but we’re here to enjoy the race and support you. Try to focus on that.”

He nods, taking a deep breath as both of you make your way to the Red Bull hospitality area. The team welcomes you with open arms, and you settle into a comfortable spot where you can watch the preparations for the race. He asks one of the interns to keep an eye on you, which he thought he was being sly whilst doing it, but you of course catch him in the corner of your eye. That’s when you realise the man walking towards him, your eyes meeting in nothing short of disdain for each other.

You stiffen slightly, your hand tightening around Max’s hand as he turns just in time to see his father approaching, his protective instincts kicking into high gear as he lets go of your hand and decides to wrap his arm around you protectively instead.

“Max,” Jos says, his tone neutral but carrying an underlying condescension. “We need to talk before your race begins, walk with me.”

Max's grip tightens around you for a moment before he reluctantly loosens his hold. “What is it, Dad?” he asks, his voice steady but tinged with irritation.

Jos's eyes flicker to you before focusing back on Max. “I wanted to discuss strategy, but I can see this isn't a good time.”

Max's jaw clenches, his protective instincts on high alert. “If it's important, we can talk here. I’m not leaving her side.”

Jos sighs, clearly frustrated. “Fine, if that's how you want it.”

Max’s arm remains firmly around you as his father steps closer. “Make it quick,” Max insists, his tone leaving no room for argument. If other people were to see your eyes moving from one Verstappen to the other, they’d probably think you are watching a tennis match, though the situation in front of you is certainly more tense than that.

Jos glances at you once more before addressing Max. “I just wanted to remind you to stay focused. Pole position is a great start, but you need to keep your head in the race.”

Max's eyes narrow, and he lets out a scoff, “I know how to do my job, no need for reminder. Anything else?”

Jos shakes his head, his expression a mix of disappointment and resignation. “Just don’t let distractions cost you the win.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Max hisses, taking a step towards his father as he gently pushes you behind himself. You have to put a hand against his chest to slow him down, though that doesn’t prove to be a sufficient prevention method. “I already told you; she is my wife, and he is not going anywhere so you better get that into that damaged brain of yours.”

“Max,” you try to plead with him, “please, not before your race.”

He gives you a look over his shoulder for a short moment before turning back towards his father. His jaw is set as he looks at the man in front of him. “I’ll only tell you this one more time. When she’s here with me, you don’t show up. If you do show up, you don’t come near her, you don’t talk to her, you don’t even look at her.” Another step taken towards his father has you tightening your hold on him, but he still manages to convey his message. “Try something like this again, and you won’t be in my life anymore let alone my son’s.”

Jos's lips press into a thin line, his eyes darting to you briefly before settling back on Max. “Fine,” he repeats, his tone colder. “Just remember what’s at stake every time you get behind the wheel.”

Max stands his ground, his eyes locked onto his father's, unwavering. “I know exactly what's at stake, and I don't need you reminding me. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have a race to focus on.”

It’s not the first time Max has stood up to his father, not by any means. But you can tell that this time affects him in a different way. The weight of the words exchanged and the implications for their future relationship linger in the air. You can feel the tension radiating from Max as he watches his father walk away, and it takes a moment for him to relax his posture and turn back to you. “Please tell me something that will calm me down so I don’t somehow do something that would put me to jail.”

“Okay,” you singsong, quickly positioning yourself in front of him so that you can fix him with a strict look on your face. “You are not doing something that will put you into prison, period.”

“I’m going to need a very good reason because all I want to do right now is follow him to his car and punch him.” Unfortunately for you, the way his jaw is set is a telling sign that, no, Max would actually do something like this given the circumstances.

“There is no sim racing in prison.” You try to provide, giving him a weak smile.

Max's lips twitch into a small, reluctant smile at your words, the tension in his jaw easing slightly. “No sim racing in prison, huh? Do you honestly think that would keep me from doing something stupid?”

“I panicked!” You exclaim, hitting him on his chest lightly as he laughs at you silently. “How are you supposed to help me raise our son,” you point to your stomach to emphasise your point, “if you’re in prison, huh?”

Max's smile grows wider, the tension in his posture finally starting to melt away. “Okay, okay, you’ve got a point,” he says, placing his hands on your shoulders and looking into your eyes. “I need to be here for both of you. But it’s so damn hard to ignore him.”

You reach up and cup his face in your hands, your eyes soft and filled with understanding. “I know, but you’re stronger than him. And you have more important things to focus on. Like winning this race and getting me more ice cream on our way back to the hotel.”

He takes a deep breath, nodding slowly as he lets out a soft chuckle. “You’re right. I can’t let him get to me. Not today.”

“Exactly,” you say, giving him a reassuring smile, “I usually am.”

Max laughs, the sound lightening the mood even more. “Yes, you usually are,” he agrees, pulling you closer for a brief kiss. “Thank you for always knowing how to calm me down.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” you say, resting your forehead against his. “Now, go out there and show everyone what you can do. We’ll celebrate with ice cream afterward.”

“Deal,” he replies, his eyes twinkling with affection and determination. With one last squeeze, he lets you go and turns towards his team, his focus now fully on the race ahead. “But I feel like I need to let you know that I would definitely go to prison for life for you.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Don’t you have a race to win, Verstappen?”

He grins, giving you one last kiss before heading off to prepare for the race, giving you a grin over his shoulder as he starts to move away, “So, I’ll get the rest of that kiss after the race, then?”

“Yeah, Max,” you let out a breathy laugh, your eyes not leaving his for a moment, “after the race!”

#monzabee #requests open #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 smut #formula 1 #fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #imagine #fluff #angst #smut #max verstappen fluff

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intromortal · 4 months

Text

⸻𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐧. 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐣𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠.

PAIRING: jay x f!reader x sunghoon

GENRE: ⚠︎ smut. mdni. cheating, best friends to ?

WARNINGS: threesome, oral (f!receiving), no protection, creampie, a little mxm never hurt anybody, name calling (slut, whore), praise, degradation, exhibitionism and voyeurism (?), choking, bondage, two dicks in one hole yessir, squirting, cum eating, snowballing, heeseung is a cheater, sunghoon is sneaky, i think that's all

WORDS: 5.4k

SYNOPSIS: you find out Heeseung cheated on you, but thankfully your two best friends are there to console you.

a/n: if this sounds familiar it's because it's an old fic that was originally divided into two parts! since i was not happy with it, this is the edited version. both parts together and with some changes💗

⸻

Jay peered through the crack of the door, one leg still not entirely in the pyjama shorts he grabbed off the floor when he stumbled through his apartment to find out who the hell was knocking so damn hard at three in the morning.

He felt his breath knocked out of his lungs when he found you standing on the old ragged mat citing ‘welcome-ish, depends who you are, and how long you stay’ that Jake had gifted them when he and Sunghoon moved, tears silently streaming down your pretty face.

He swung the door open and engulfed you in his arms when he noticed you shivering like a leaf. He walked you over to the couch, sobs starting to shake your body despite the comforting weight of his hands on your shoulders.

Sunghoon rushed in not long after, eyes puffy and hair all messy from sleep. He recognized your sobs as he walked into the room, his heart shattering with each sound. It had become a recurrence ever since you started to date Heeseung, one they both insisted was not a burden every time you felt bad about taking time off their day because of your fights with your moody boyfriend.

Despite it happening so often, Sunghoon never got used to seeing you hurt.

“What did he do this time?” Jay seethed.

Jay loved Heeseung like he would love a brother, but he did not think he could go on seeing him hurt you like this time and time again. You always put him on a pedestal, forgiving any harsh word he uttered, claiming he was a completely different person when not mad at you. He could not figure out why you didn’t seem to understand that you deserved nothing but sweet words, regardless of Heeseung’s emotional state.

You tried to speak through your sniffles, slowly calming down as Sunghoon drew soothing circles on your back with his warm hand under your shirt, raising goosebumps all over your skin.

“Take your time princess”, he muttered, his breath slowing to coax you into mimicking it, helping you calm down. “There we go.”

You sighed deeply one more time before gathering the courage to speak, doing anything to avoid your best friends’ worried gazes.

“I caught him cheating.”

The room felt unnaturally silent, their movements on your skin also stopping as they processed your words.

“I’m gonna actually fucking kill him this time Hoon,” Jay gritted through his teeth, his blood loud in his ears.

Your head shot to the other man, finding him with a deep-set frown on his face. He intertwined your fingers with his and gently caressed your hand with his thumb, not uttering a word.

Not that you needed it, his touch was always enough comfort for you. Both him and Jay your safe space.

“Wanna talk about it?” Jay asked, pushing any violent thought in his mind for later. You needed him there with you, and he would not let you down.

You shook your head, tears drying against your lashes and making them appear longer as you looked up to him pleadingly. “Just wanna forget about him."

—

Your back was propped against Jay’s defined chest as he sloppily trailed wet kisses down your neck, his fingers playing with one of your nipples while Sunghoon’s lips were wrapped around the other one, his fingers grazing your poor hole teasingly once more.

You had lost count of how many times Sunghoon had you coming on his fingers. He insisted you needed all of the prep you could take for what was about to come, the dangerous promise making you clench around his digits.

“Please just put it in,” you keened. Not that you didn’t enjoy being fucked open by Sunghoon’s fingers, but the thought of how delicious their cocks must feel inside you had you begging for more anyway. “I’m ready, please.”

Sunghoon cooed mockingly at your state, “Our baby says she’s ready Jay, what do you think?”

The silver-haired male just chuckled and grabbed his cock, adjusting it over your pussy from behind. You wailed, head thrown back against his chest when his red tip caught on your abused clit, the movements of his hips tortuous as he ground his member between your folds.

Sunghoon sprung into action and grabbed his friend's member, slapping it over your pussy multiple times, ripping out little pleasured whines from you. Jay was also affected, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he hissed at the feeling of his friend’s touch.

Sunghoon brought his hand to your mouth, his brows quirked up in silent request, you caught on immediately and spat in his palm. He used the wetness to jerk off Jay a few times, the latter letting a guttural moan from his throat as he threw his head back and started to thrust in Sunghoon’s grip, quite literally fucking it.

The hot sensation in your stomach felt unbearable as you watched the scene unfold, your own mouth hung open in a silent moan.

You tried to get the men’s attention back on you, your poor cunt craving to be filled again, but you were cut off by Sunghoon positioning Jay’s thick cock against your hole. You yelped in surprise when you it slid in one single swift motion, the sting you felt oh so delicious. You were both a moaning mess, unaware of Sunghoon’s sly smirk as Jay gave you no time to get used to his girth. One of his rough hands wrapped lightly around your neck while the other kept your hips in place, using them as leverage to piston into you, the heels of his feet pushing into the mattress at his pace brutal.

Neither of you noticed Sunghoon sneaking down to your core, the sudden feeling of something wet inside you other than Jay’s cock making your back arch and curses fall from your lips, the sensation like nothing you had ever experienced.

You made the mistake of looking down, only for the sinful image of Sunghoon’s tongue pushing inside your cunt as he grabbed the other man’s balls with his hands to slowly massage them to push you straight over the edge. You came so hard your vision turned spotty for a few seconds, a white creamy ring forming around Jay’s member as his own load shot right up into you. Jay’s moans as he fucked you both through your orgasms were nothing short of lewd, the roughness of his sounds so different from his slower thrusts, yet both of them working to prolong your bliss.

Sunghoon giggled against your sensitive cunt, swallowing a mouthful of both of your releases while you regained your breaths from your intense orgasms.

Jay was about to slide out of your cunt, but the sound of a ringtone reverberating through the room stopped his movements, his brows knitted as he waited for Sunghoon to go get it. You didn’t need to see the name on the display to know who it was, your body tensing right in Jay’s grip as anxiety flooded through your veins; talking to him was the last thing you wanted.

Sunghoon walked to the windowsill where he had left his phone to charge, a sinister grin widening on his features when he read Heeseung as the contact name on his display.

The air in the room was thick with lust and anticipation as he answered the call, acting like the situation he was in was completely normal. Like one of his best friends wasn’t still deep inside his other, right in front of him.

He only gave you a casual shrug of his shoulders when you glared at him, the warm dim lighting of the room carving out his features beautifully, but doing nothing to hide the deviousness of his expression.

“Hee, you need something?” Sunghoon said, his tone impassive as he kneeled again before you, the soft mattress dipping underneath his weight.

“She’s with you, isn’t she?” You barely heard Heeseung say before Sunghoon stepped away, whatever was being said on the other end now out of your hearing range. You wished you missed the bitter edge in Heeseung’s tone, a hint of displeasure at the thought of you with the guys so late at night. Had you not known better, you would have thought he was jealous maybe. Except you refused to indulge in that fantasy, your naive days were over.

Jay, being so intimately familiar with your emotions, felt your uneasiness right away. He moved to ghost his lips down your neck while his fingertips moved against the skin of your waist, an attempt to soothe your nerves.

You were grateful for him, his touch grounding and leading you away from your thoughts, the feeling of his warmth raising goosebumps wherever it reached.

“He can’t hurt you anymore,” he whispered before taking the shell of your ear in his mouth and biting it gently, eliciting an almost inaudible gasp from you.

Hoon fixed his gaze on you before replying to Heeseung’s question, “Yes, she’s here right now.”

Your eyes widened at his answer. You expected him to deny knowing anything about your whereabouts, end the call and go back to pick up right from where he left off. But he seemed to have other plans.

If the way Sunghoon’s knuckles were turning white while gripping his phone was anything to go by, the man on the other end must have not had a lot of nice words to spare. You thought about all the hurt he had been causing you ever since you got together, the earlier despair turning into searing red anger.

You forgave him for so much. You were so dumb to think he would ever change, would love you the way you loved him. You felt your hands shake as you realized you had been nothing but a commodity for Heeseung all that time. Nothing but a safety net to always catch him if anything went wrong. You thought about all the useless nights spent awake biting your fingernails while waiting for a simple text back; anything that would confirm he was safe. His habit of going for late-night drives on his bike ‘to collect his mind’ after an argument always stressing you out beyond belief. The nights spent crying on the phone to Sunghoon and Jay, that truly always did their best to bring back a smile on your face. You’d promise you would end things with Heeseung for your own good. Yet, you failed to keep your word every time, the magnetic pull you felt to your boyfriend so strong it managed to always reel you back in.

This time, you were actually done with him. How dare he pretend to care about what you were doing? You refused to be his little plaything for a second longer.

So you made up your mind.

“Hoon,” you whined quietly, interrupting the hushed conversation taking place at the end of the bed. You took a deep breath, preparing yourself to say what was on your mind. “Want to make him regret everything he ever did to me.”

The man in question flashed you a proud grin, one of his canines peeking out slightly, “I think I have an idea then. You okay with being watched?”

Your breath hitched in your throat at the lewd suggestion, lust pooling in the pit of your stomach. You nodded, your bottom lip caught between your teeth.

“Gonna need to hear you say it,” Jay spoke softly into your ear while Sunghoon looked at you expectantly.

“Want him to watch you two fuck me, please.”

“Anything you want, doll.” Jay grinned against your skin, teeth poking out to nibble on your throat.

Sunghoon retuned his attention to the device in his hands, and put Heeseung on speaker. “So? Can I talk to her? Can I see her?”

His voice sent a pang of shame and guilt through your body, one you knew he did not deserve. What he did deserve though was to know, to see how good his brothers were fucking you.

“Oh, you’ll see her alright,” Sunghoon laughed, sending him a request to switch the call to video.

“Sunghoon? Hello? What’s this all about?”

Sunghoon ignored him, his full dark eyebrows furrowed in concentration while he was too busy trying to get the perfect angle on the comforter next to his bed, opting to use the lamp as a stand for his phone. Once he was satisfied enough he stepped back a bit to check one last time before returning back to you and Jay, finally revealing you wholly to Heeseung; your naked form spread over Jay’s and your stuffed cunt on full display for him.

It was silent for a while on the other end of the call, while Sunghoon settled next to Jay, the side of his lip tilted upwards cockily. “Hot right?”

Your blood ran cold for a moment at how flat and detached Heeseung’s voice sounded when he opened his mouth again. “Jay? What the fuck? What’s the meaning of this?”

Heeseung was absolutely floored by the scene playing out in front of him. He expected you to run crying to them as soon as you found out about him cheating like you always did every time something went wrong between you two, just for you to crawl back to him in no time. That was what he was anticipating. A few apologies and maybe a dinner date to win you back, that's what it took all the other times. But this?

He wanted to end the call and drive to his best friends’ apartment, and then god knows what he'd do to them once he got there. But he also could not help but stay frozen in place, sitting on the end of the bed in his own dark room, chest constricted with so many conflicting feelings

Why did he think you had never looked as gorgeous as in that instant, with Jay’s thick hands all over your body? He should not be feeling like this. He should be way angrier than he was. Especially when someone else was touching what was his.

Before Heeseung could even try to recover from the shock he was experiencing, Sunghoon gently reached for your chin— fingers warm and delicate on your skin— and angled your face towards his, soft eyes holding your gaze reassuringly. He leaned down to capture your lips in a delicate kiss, the tenderness of it surprising you.

You yelped when he unexpectedly bit your lip, taking that as a chance to slide his wet tongue inside your mouth, savoring your sweet taste.

One of his hands cupped your face tenderly while the other traveled down your body, groping any inch of flesh he could reach, the contrast between the slow movements of his tongue and the roughness of his touch leaving you dizzy, putty in his hands.

You realized then Sunghoon had you wrapped around his fingers, his scorching touch the only thing you could pay attention to. A siren luring you to him with his inviting song.

He drew back slightly, smiling when he noticed you chase after his lips, “I think Jay might be feeling a little left out.”

Your attention was forced back on Jay as he thrusted his hard girth inside you once again, fucking the mixture of both of your releases inside you, your cheeks flushing at the lewd squelching sounds his movements caused.

You wondered how it would sound like if Sunghoon’s cum was also inside of you, your moans so loud in the room as Jay’s pace never relented.

Sunghoon inched two of his long fingers into your cunt to collect some of the mess seeping out of you and brought it up to Jay’s mouth, who obediently took them in as he kept eye contact with you, your head tilted back on his shoulder. He hummed at the taste and made a point to lap the fingers completely clean before releasing them with a pop, knowing how much the little show he put on affected you. Watching him enjoy eating his own cum did inexplicable things to you, and you knew it clearly reflected on your expression when he tried uselessly to stifle a little giggle at how desperate you looked right then.

His thrusts were teasingly slow and shallow. You needed more, so much more, your cunt desperately clenching around him. So you grabbed his hand and brought it down to your clit, big glossy doe eyes begging him silently. Jay was visibly amused at your silent command, but ignored it. He gave you nothing more than a bite on your shoulder, and moved his hand to rest on your inner thigh. The warmth of his skin contrasted with the chill of his rings, sending waves of shivers coursing through your body.

Sunghoon cradled your face and kissed you again, this time a lot more messily and wet, his own lust leaking through his composure. He pushed the fingers that Jay licked clean inside you unexpectedly, making you gasp in his mouth and draw back a bit with a string of spit following you. The way your airy moans resounded in the room had him think he could cum untouched anytime soon.

Despite having done a good job at keeping his composure, Sunghoon was getting desperate. Seeing you enjoy yourself brought him great amounts of pleasure, but his weeping cock had been neglected for far too long, and he knew he couldn't go on like that for much longer.

As if reading his friend’s mind, Jay slipped out of you with a grunt and left you suddenly empty and clenching around nothing. Sounds of protest bubbled in your throat but Jay’s hand harshly grabbed your face, his lips smashing with yours to shut you up, “Patience, sweet thing," he said as he drew back, his lips still ghosting over yours and eyes clouded with need.

He maneuvered your body towards the phone and slipped under you, grabbing your thighs to settle you over his lap, except this time you were facing his chest. Truth be told, you had forgotten about the fact that Heeseung could see everything, but now that you were aware of him again you could make out faint squelching sounds coming from the phone. Your eyes widened at the realization that Lee Heeseung was fucking his fist to the little show you guys had been putting on for him.

You already knew him to be a pervert, but this seemed like a new low even for him.

You wanted to think you felt utterly insulted by this new information, but all you could find within yourself was deep satisfaction. Ecstasy coursed through your veins at the thought of how humiliating this must be for him, how pathetic he must feel.

You were itching to make him feel even worse about his situation, so you mustered up the most distressed look you could manage turned to Sunghoon, swaying your behind a little to encourage him to come closer.

“Please Hoonie? Want you both to stuff me full,” you said as you wiggled your hips for the camera pointed at you.

You looked back at him when he didn’t comply right away, finding him with a slight arch on one of his eyebrows while he stared at you, clearly amused by your behaviour. You couldn’t question what his deal was, Jay speaking before you got even a word out. His voice was sultry, warm breath fanning over your ear and sending tingles down your spine. “Aren’t you a dirty little slut mmh? Begging to get fucked just to make Heeseung jealous?”

The way your thighs closed tighter around his hips at the name he called you didn’t go unnoticed, his rough hand clasping around your throat to squeeze lightly, just enough to keep you silent in his grasp. “You enjoy this, mhh? Being called a whore.” He brought you closer to his face, warm breath tickling your own. "You’re still thinking about that bastard, acting like a little slut for him, I thought you wanted to forget about him? Are we not doing enough?”

You struggled to shake your head in his grasp, prompting him to apply more pressure on your throat. “Words.”

“You are,” you barely managed to choke out, voice raw from being suppressed, even if for a short amount of time. He released you from his hold, leaving you gasping for air.

Sunghoon barely gave you any time to recover as he took hold of your wrists, just one of his hands big enough to keep them in place. You felt the smooth leather on your wrists before you realised what was happening; Sunghoon’s belt secured tightly around your skin, binding your arms together.

The way Jay talked to you and now Sunghoon depriving you of your freedom of movement made you feel like you were there just to be their cocksleeve, there to just be fucked. And while you knew they did not feel that way about you, ever the so caring best friends, this forbidden side to them made you feel things you never thought you would. You liked this, you needed them to fuck you like you belonged to them and them alone.

Jay interrupted your train of thought by sliding in your abused cunt, hissing at the feeling of your walls enveloping him.

“Still so tight, how are you gonna fit both of us, doll?” His hand came down to grab a handful of your ass, pushing you up and down on his cock, your tits bouncing before his face at the repeated movements.

Sunghoon moved to grab the phone propped on the lamp and finally addressed Heeseung again, “Still here? You’re enjoying this mhh? Nasty freak.” He punctuated the last words, almost seething at him. The smile that took over his features was feral, not the usual flirtatious grin you were used to seeing on him. "Gonna give you an even better view, one you will never forget.”

He pointed the camera towards you, giving Heeseung a clear view of you riding Jay, your ass slapping against his thighs. He fisted his cock with his free hand, smearing the obscene amount of precum he produced all over his shaft. He gave himself a few more pumps before he aligned it on your entrance, finally pushing in with difficulty next to Jay with a groan.

They both stayed still for a moment to let you adjust to their combined girths, though you knew you could ever get used to it, no matter how long they gave you. The stretch was almost unbearable for the first few moments, white-hot pain blinding your vision.

Jay threw his head back against the bed and let out a loud drawn-out moan at the feeling of Sunghoon nestled right next to him. His hand rested on your waist, the warmness of it an anchor to help you ground yourself. Sunghoon grabbed your bound wrists and pushed your body to lay against Jay’s fully, giving himself and Heeseung a perfect view of your overly stretched hole as the man under you resumed to gently thrust up into you.

Heeseung thought he must have gone insane when he had to physically stifle a moan at the sight of Sunghoon’s hips slowly matching Jay's movements, cock dragging deliciously next to his. He felt betrayed, not by you but by his best friends. He wondered how long they had been waiting to stick their weeping cocks inside you, how long they’d eyed you like prey without him ever noticing, how many nights they must’ve spent fucking their fists thinking about you while he pounded you sweet little cunt. He wanted to call them fucking perverts for this, but he knew he was not in a position to judge anyone. Not when he was getting off to the sight of your cunt stuffed by them. He might be even worse.

The sight on his phone was unbearably lewd to begin with, but your cries of pleasure made it so much worse. Never have you sounded like that for him. You were so fucking wet for them Sunghoon almost accidentally slipped out a few times. Heeseung thought about how snug it must feel, how hard you must be clamping around them, and he clenched his fist tighter to mimic the feeling, Adam's apple bobbing as your moans got louder. He wanted to be the one fucking you right now so badly, so desperate to cum inside you. Instead, he couldn’t stop a pitiful sob from escaping from his lips as he came without warning all over his hand in thick spurts, coating his skin and drenching the fabric of his shorts rolled down on the floor. He kept stroking himself, riding out his orgasm as pathetic whines fell from his slack jaw, even more shame setting in.

Your friends would have laughed at how pathetic he was had any of you kept their attention on him, but he was easily forgotten as Sunghoon bent down so his chest pressed on your back. He dropped the phone somewhere on the bed, denying Heeseung the glimpse of your hole being split open and leaving him with only the sounds and his imagination.

Jay’s pace suddenly got more frantic, his rhythm a lot faster inside you with his feet planted on the bed and hips slightly lifted to fuck into you, while Sunghoon’s were still slow and languid. You were lost in the pleasure by then, incoherent babbles of praises and sweet moans the only thing leaving your mouth.

“Has anyone ever fucked you this good, doll?” Jay asked, already aware of the answer but wanting to hear it from you anyway. In fact, it was all you could think about at that moment: how no one had ever fucked you so good, how they were ruining sex with anyone else for you, how every time you found yourself needy from now on the only plausible option would be to just go back to them and beg them to do anything in their power to make you cum; to use you how they better saw fit.

You eagerly nodded your head to him, eyes closed when you struggled to form words against their onslaught on your poor stretched hole, “Fuck- yeah, no one ever.”

Jay chuckled and you felt the vibrations of it on the skin of your cheek, his lips brushing against it while Sunghoon cooed at your enthusiasm. “Is that so mmh? Not even our Heeseung?” You were quick to shake your head.

“No, not even him.''

That seemed to only spur the men further, Jay’s thrusts becoming somehow more rapid and Sunghoon’s more precise and so deep you thought he was pistoning straight in your guts.

Sunghoon grabbed your bounded wrists and used them to slide you over their cocks, the slick mess between your legs coating their thighs too, leaving you no room for movement. All you could do was sit there prettily for them and take it, your mouth falling open and eyes rolling to the back of your head as you felt them hit the spot deep inside you that had your toes curling at the same time.

“Your cunt was made for our cocks,” Jay grunted in your ear, one of his hands leaving your hips to grab your chin. “Gonna ruin you for everyone else."

You helplessly clenched around them even harder at his words, so snug they could barely move, throaty gasps and moans filling the air. You were basically dumb on their cocks, greedily trying to suck them in further. So they were not surprised when your front collapsed on Jay’s chest as you came undone around them, your vision blinded and hearing muffled for a few seconds from the sheer strength of your bliss. Sunghoon was still putting his weight on your back, his thrust losing precision and becoming rougher and messier, matching Jay’s erratic ones.

You still hadn’t come down from your high when you felt Sunghoon’s fingers trace circles on your puffy abused nub, earning whines of protests from you that got immediately swallowed by Jay’s mouth, his teeth grazing your bottom lip sensually. "Just one more, you’re doing so good doll.”

The coil in your stomach built once more at a frightening pace, and you tried to fuck your hips back against Sunghoon’s, but hypocritically tried to get away from their grips at the same time, the pain of overstimulation so good and addicting you didn't know what to do with yourself.

“Inside please,” you sniffled pathetically as tears formed on your lashes. Sobs heaved from your chest and eyes rolled in the back of your head when you came for them a final time, your breath getting knocked out of your chest as your essence splashed out of you, making a mess on both of their thighs.

“Did you just squirt baby? Fuck, that’s hot," Sunghoon moaned, his hips stuttering for a moment.

As soon as Jay realized what just happened he stilled his hips against yours and painted your walls with his hot cum. Sunghoon whined as he felt both of your slicks push against his throbbing member, prompting his own high to wash over him.

You all tried to catch your breaths as Sunghoon kept fucking the mix of your releases inside you, not wanting any of it to slip out and go to waste. Jay had to tap his hips a few times to get him to stop, the stimulation of his raw cock too much to handle.

A mewl left your lips when they carefully slid out of you, the emptiness so sudden you found yourself missing the way they filled you completely right away.

You were so spent you could barely move, but you managed a small smile when Jay kissed your temple softly, caging you in his arms while Sunghoon grabbed a towel to clean up the sticky mess you made.

He retrieved his phone too, taking note of the ended call, before opening the camera app and grabbing your ankles, parting your sore legs as far as you were able to take.

He pointed the camera down and easily slid two fingers back inside your pussy, earning tired weak sounds of protest from you.

“Shh baby, am only showing our Heeseungie what he missed,” he whispered, lowering his face down to your cunt and replacing his fingers with his tongue. He took as much cum as he could in his mouth, then came up back again and kissed you softly, tongue sliding some of the essences from his mouth into yours. He parted from your lips and scooted closer to Jay, repeating the same action. his hands gripping the other male's head to angle it backwards.

Butterflies wreaked havoc in your stomach when you looked at Jay, his eyes closed as he savored the taste, Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed and licked inside of Sunghoon’s mouth, careful not to miss any drop.

Sunghoon parted from him with a smile and grabbed the warm wet towel he had set next to you, finally cleaning you up, careful not to stimulate you any further. When he finished, he took you in his arms and walked to the bathroom. He set you down carefully, hands hovering close to your body making sure you could stand up on your own despite how shaky your legs were, before stepping back and signalling you to pee. Your cheeks heated up at his suggestion, earning a full chest laugh from him, “I just fucked the daylights out of you, and this is what you’re embarrassed about?” He set a shirt and a pair of Jay’s clean underwear on the sink for you to change in before walking out of the room.

You were drowsy by the time you got back in bed with them, Jay whispering sweet nothings in the crown of your hair—sometimes giving you tiny pecks— and Sunghoon with his arms wrapped around your shoulders, one of his hands caressing your arm gently. You had no idea how you let Heeseung get away with treating you like he did when this is what you could have had all along. You don’t know how this was gonna change your relationship with everyone involved, but you decide you'll worry about it another time, the comfortable silence lulling you to sleep as the men next to you continued to swoon over you.

#enhypen smut #jay smut #sunghoon smut #enha smut #enhypen #park jongseong #park sunghoon #park jongseong x reader #park sunghoon x reader #heeseung smut #heeseung #enhypen drabble #enha drabble #heeseung drabble #jay drabble #sunghoon drabble #⤑ hard hours #⤑ chels papa #⤑ jay

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divinesolas · 2 months

Text

Your Reflection

summary: rq; when the thoughts jacaerys has had his whole life finally can no longer be pushed down he seeks comfort in you

jacaerys targaryen x non targ!reader

w.c: 1.7k

c.w: just a lot of fluff, angst and some minor smut (oral)

perm jace taglist ! (open) @cruelworldlana @smurfelle @ireneispunk @hxtd @venmondiese @urmomsgirlfriend1 1 @jacesvelaryons s @earth4angels @itsemohours @valdezthg

your head whips around at the slam of your room and you stand with wide eyes at the red eyed prince letting out shaky breaths as he swiftly makes his way towards you.

“jace.”

he pulls you into him and falls onto the bed where he lays on top of you, shoving his head into your neck while he lets out weak sobs. “she is being unreasonable” you place your head in his hair while letting out a deep breath. You knew well of his distain for his mothers idea him having ranted for far too long to you about it earlier that same day, to have the low born men and women attempt to claim dragons. bastards.

it was sensitive for him. you knew this far too well. He had gone to try and convince her to change her mind but clearly he had failed and you tried to come up with words that could bring him comfort. “does she not see how foolish this is? to let those people walk amongst us? those those…” he pulls his head away to look at you as he struggles to speak, his face clearly tormented and painful. “they are undeserving. unworthy. they are mongrels and monsters. born out of wedlock believing themselves to be fit for a role they were not made for,”

“are you talking about them or are you talking about yourself?”

he gulps at your words and his eyes well up, “what claim do i have if they claim a dragon? i do not have the hair, the skin, i am a fraud and everyone knows it. I am mere moments away from being stripped of everything i have left.” his head falls onto your chest as his chest heaves up and down with heavy breaths. “i cannot imagine how you feel. the shame you must feel walking down the halls and people staring at you, married to a bastard.”

You grip his face and make him look at you. Hes shocked to see the furry and angry on your face. “i will hear no more of this. you are jacaerys targaryen son of queen rhaenyra taragryen. heir to the iron throne nobody will contest that not. don’t you dare insinuate i am insulted or shamed to be seen with you it is an honor. everyday i wake up blessed to know i married such an honorable and truthful man and i would have it no other way.”

at this point tears are pouring down his face as he shakes his head finding himself refusing to listen to your words. “you could not possibly mean such a thing.” he whines ever so slightly when you bring your lips to his face and kiss the tears off his face, closing his eyes and he refuses to look at you. “i mean it and more. there is no other better man than you. your heritage means nothing to me. should anybody contest that remember you are a targaryen. they shall pay for their contestation with fire and blood.”

he says nothing in return, simply laying his head on your chest while silent tears continue to run down his face. you did not wish to push him to speak, your hands find the back of his head and play with his hair ever so slightly.

“what if they do contest it?” you peer down at him but he continues to stare at the lit fire in your fire pit. “what if after my mother dies they argue and fight and usurp my throne right under me as they have done her? what if there is another war and more people get hurt what if you,,,” His words end up choked up in his throat as he shakes with sobs, you cant help but feel your own eyes begin to water. He’s scared. just a scared young man who doesn’t wish to lose anyone or anything else.

one of your hands soothe his back as you press a kiss to his forehead while your other one cups his face to wipe away his tears. you cannot say anything to console him, knowing this is an issue that runs deeper into his consciousness than you will ever be able to fix by your lonesome. So when you roll him off you he sits up and stares at you in horror as you begin to walk off. his mouth shakily opens to call after you to beg you to stay but his words die on his tongue and he can just let out a meek gasp.

When you arrive back into the room he has his head in his hands while he cries into them. He looks up at you when you place a leather bag next to and tries to catch his breath. His pupils bounce around your face as your hands grab his top and begin to pull it off of him. He allows you, making no move to stop you despite his confusion. “lay on your stomach.” He pauses sniffing as he folds his hands in his lap. When he doesn’t move your cup his face and press a light kiss against his furrowed brows.

He silently pulls away and rolls to lay on his back as you had asked. He has no clue what you’re doing and almost turns to ask you after theres been no movement or talking from you for a bit until he feels you straddle his back and your hands begin to run through his hair. He can smell the oil on your fingers as you delicately run them throughout his curls. He lets out a pleased hum as your nails scratch into his head.

he does not say anything simply allowing you to shower him in affections he normally does not allow you to. cooing at him and pecking all over his back and head. As you move down to massage his neck and back he finds himself overwhelmed with the display of affection and love you’re showering him with he has no clue what to do or say.

Hes even more so embarrassed when you flip him around and he’s hard as a rock. Hes not even feeling sexual in that moment but he’s body is flighting against him. He whines slightly and wishes he could explain himself but he cant. You dont seem to mind. simply dripping more oil onto his skin and working your hands to ease his tension.

He closes his eyes and tries to will it away while you continue to press kisses onto his chest and stomach but if anything it only gets worse at your pure display of love. He hopes he is not ruining this just as he ruins everything. He has never felt so loved in his life he has never felt so at peace since before the war he wants to live in this feeling forever.

His eyes shoot open when you tug his pants down his legs leaving him completely bare and he looks at you alarmed. You say nothing however simply eyeing him as you kiss around his thighs and massage the parts your lips are not. He is breathless as he watches you. When you suddenly stop your movements and look at him he does not know what to do. “i,, shouldn’t i,,, you should,,” The look you have on your face as him stumbling and stuttering over his words. He’s never like this. He would never allow you to do this to him normally. He would insist he get you off first or even outright forbid you to even do something like this more content with pleasing you.

Yet he cant help but be greedy today, the self centered part of him wins and he finds himself nodding to you. He will regret this later he knows he will but when you peck light kissing along his throbbing cock he throws his head back with a moan without a care in the world. His hands grip at the sheets under him when you tongue at his slit slurping up some of his precum before wrapping your lips fully around him.

He understands why some men who are less honorable as he seek out these pleasures often and he almost wishes he allowed you do to this more often. When your hands come to cup and play with his balls his legs shake and he whimpers. He swears he’s going to rip the bedsheets the way he’s gripping at them. His face burns slightly in humiliation and more so in pleasure. sweat drips down the sides of his forehead into his newly oiled hair as he hips uncontrollable thrust up into your mouth where he spews out and apology but you simply hum around him sending another shiver up his spine.

his whole body is shaking with pleasure. He had already been sensitive and relaxed from your overwhelming intimacy he can barely control himself now. he finds himself chanting your name mixed and mumbled with i love you’s. He releases unexpectedly after some louder groans and moans and his eyes well up again as he watches you swallow it down. “im sorry im sorry.” even when he does allow you to do this he never lets himself release in your mouth fearing it may be too much for you and usually just allows himself to spend on your chest.

You climb up to him and press a loving kiss against his lips. He does not mind he can taste himself on your lips as he presses his lips firmly back against yours. The action speaking louder than any words could. He insist he should do something for you in return but the way his eyes droop and struggle to stay open you know he is mere moments from falling asleep. You smile at him and peck his cheek as you shake your head at him. He tries to argue with falters under your comforting hands and sweet nothings into his ear.

He settles with a faint smile on his face the first one you’ve seen on him in many moons. when you rub your hands on his chest he falls asleep at the comfort but not being letting another i love you slip through his lips. His smile grows when he hears you return it before drifting off to sleep where he knows he’ll meet you there too

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