#yes i'll be doing the other five too
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pillarsalt · 5 months ago
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hella1975 · 1 year ago
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all hate to tiktok for taking 'having a space to more openly and actively talk about different cultures' to mean 'cultures are NOT to be shared and we must be vigilantly defensive of our cultures for fear of appropriation, a word that can be applied to any multicultural interaction'. like of course cultural appropriation is a very real problem but ive seen with the access to global multicultural conversation that tiktok provides it's made people TERRIFIED to even interact with cultures other than their own for fear of 'doing it wrong'. like at some point you have to acknowledge that in the real world of the great outdoors, the majority of people are eager to SHARE their cultures. yes there are ignorant questions and biases but also... how do you think those things get unlearnt? i dont understand how deciding that multiculturalism is an elephant in the room instead of a normal thing that should just be talked about and lived with is supposed to benefit anyone? and kids on tiktok are CONVINCED that it's a time bomb of a conversation to have and therefore must be avoided at all costs but like. people generally LOVE their home and their culture and are PROUD of it and want to share it. how have we made it so that showing genuine interest and a desire to understand something so integral to a person's identity is now feared and borderline demonised?
#thinking about this a lot lately. thinking about how fun it was comparing cultural differences in america#thinking of how when i was homesick one thing i found a great comfort in was talking about my home#and how it differed and i really loved and appreciated it when people would ask me about england#in a way that they genuinely just wanted to learn about it and not to take the piss#thinking about how the kitchen at work has chefs from all over europe. we have an irish chef and a spanish chef and an italian chef#and one of the kps is from eastern europe (i havent actually been able to find out where yet) etc and the way they banter with each other#like usually chefs are Problematic bc their humour is VERY abrasive and usually offensive#but this is one instance where it's actually to their benefit bc they're so unafraid to ADDRESS THE FACT THEY HAVE DIFFERENT CULTURES#i feel like the tiktok gen are so petrified of even acknowledging other cultures let alone discussing them#that it's actually sending the conversation backwards. like how does hoarding your culture and pretending it's not there benefit anyone#LET ALONE YOU AND THE CULTURE IN QUESTION. idk it just baffles me a bit that something that started as people on tiktok#genuinely spreading information and talking about the BAD side of this where people DO culturally appropriate or invade spaces that arent#theirs has now become 'for fear of speaking bad about it we will not speak about it at all'. and they'll crucify you if you do. like what#even at uni my best mate is indian and she's too scared to join the sikh society on her own so i regularly go to the events with her#and im typically one of the handful (or the only) white non-sikh there and i get SO welcomed each time#like there's such a genuine excitement to share the culture with someone who is effectively a blank slate#and like yeah ill ask 'dumb' questions or i'll have different experiences (tried a samosa for the first time at one of these events#and the moment that info got out i had like five STRANGERS trying to give me different samosas to try and it was genuinely such#a laugh bc yes they were TEASING me bc 'how have you never had one' but they were also really eager to share MORE as a result)#ugh idk what im saying. i just think it's a shame to watch this happen in real time on the internet#when if people would just go outside and actually TALK to people from other cultures they'd realise 9 times out of 10 the interactions#are actually really really nice for BOTH parties. and actually refusing to talk about this stuff is long-term pretty fucking detrimental#and it also goes the other way!!! like imagine if i - citizen of colonisation motherland herself - didn't interact with other cultures#and didnt ask questions or hear their opinions on whatever shared history we have from THEIR POINT OF VIEW#imagine the kind of shit id be internalising bc i only hung out with other white british people. it wouldnt matter if i was doing it#to be woke or 'respect their culture'. it would still be fucking ignorant. like half my interactions with other cultures#see me as the butt of the joke bc of this like aforementioned irish chef at work VOCALLY slates the english all the time#but it's done in an environment where we're FRIENDS and it's poking fun at each other while still addressing a very serious history. like??#idk if any of this is worded in a way that makes sense but yeah. i have thoughts#cant believe i got inspired to make an actually serious post bc of the CHEFS AT WORK. embarrassing. no one let them see this
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Attention Spirit Animals fandom! It's happening! We're having a Best Spirit Animals Character bracket! More details coming soon.
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lesbiansforboromir · 1 year ago
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oh OH hO spicey ohhh having a spicey little tantrum about the boromir tag don't listen to me at all do NOT listen I mean it I mean it this is so petty
#text post#Gonna go ffffucking crazy- people have to bend so far over backwards to make Boromir bad that they just full out ignore his entire characte#and bend even further over backwards to make the elves all better than him too like jesus christ#oh is it BOROMIR who would be bitter about dying in the defense of Rohan??? whose despair is just so self serving and requires legolas to#slap him out of it yes uhuh that seems reasonable seems like BOROMIR would just hate the idea of dying for allies he so clearly loved#when in the full actual canonical scene of his death he dies for two random guys he met five months ago and all he has to say about it is#he failed he is sorry he has paid#BOROMIR definitely doesn't deal well with his own looming death and would definitely snap at other people about it ignoring all the decades#he has been under the looming shadow of death and has been known as not-grim and loved by many and has done his duty almost like#that is literally all his life has been up until this point#and of course of course it's ARAGORN who he's supposed to be fighting for because he's SOO impactful on Boromir's psyche he meant so much t#him apparently ggrsfsfgrrffffggfrgr#everyone wants to hit boromir oh yeah he's so annoying his hopelessness is such a burden and everyone else has to deal with him#if ANY of you go looking for what I'm talking about and do anything about it I'll slaughter you myself these are such inside thoughts the#comic is good#I shouldn't even be angry it's the natural conclusion from a story that tells you Boromir is bad but does not spell out that it's because h#isn't 'faithful' to god#they just tell you he is 'too despairing' and he 'desires power' and he 'doesn't have hope' (hope being a proxy for faith and Boromir not#believing in Aragorn means he doesn't believe in Eru's chosen leaders and his 'grand plan')#despair being a sin because it means you are selfishly giving into your own desires for a good life for you and the people you love#rather than accepting that all is God's plan and this life is only meaningful if you are defending Eru's right to the throne of the world#But that isn't spelled out so for despair to be treated as evil in the story people apply a secular understanding of 'bad despair'#already a TERRIBLE idea btw genuinely awful to percieve hopelessness as a personal moral failing#I suppose thats it actually the major reason it gets to me cus hopelessness and despair is a base aspect of my existence like#I am in despair pretty much constantly and I know a lot of other disabled people with similar sentiments#and the urging from people to 'have hope' is at this point sickening and infuriating and maddening to me it is disconnected from my reality#WHICH is demonstrably why I care about Boromir and Denethor so much no one meets them where they are no one sits in their reality with them#they are deeply relatable in their dealing with dispair namely; they just live and accomplish and strive along with their sarcasm and#black humour through their dark grueling lives and do what duty demands and try to hold onto their crumbling family relationships#and then they each have uniquely cathartic ends to those lives
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ambreiiigns · 2 years ago
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i finished the saw series :)
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ajellybee · 8 days ago
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Chat, the freak nasty demons are speaking to me again. NOT proof read. i literarlly slipped out the shower and the laptop fell in my hands and accidentally opened tumblr..
JJk AU, college probably, honestly. Freak frat boy Sukuna is LIVING in my brain rn. I want that. desire that. dream of that.
NSFW, MDNI go to bed,
whore sukuna(obvi), fem virgin!reader, first time, pussy got him whipped
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⟢best friend!sukuna who's a FREAK, i mean like, new girl every week. he's always telling you the nitty gritty details too "Oh she was nasty nasty. she passed out, woke up and still asked for more of this dick"
⟢best friend! sukuna who is KNOWN for how good his dick is. It's big and he knows how to use it, and his hands, and his mouth. The whole campus hears his past girls talk as if he's a sex god fr. Girls are always asking you about him. "Oh my god! you know him right? you guys are close, yeah? could you put in a good word for me?"
⟢best friend! sukuna who always teased you for being a virgin, but never made any moves on you.
⟢virgin! reader who always came off as someone who didn't care about being a virgin. "You fuck enough for the both of us, Kuna...and like five other people too.." and at first you didn't care, but the closer you got to sukuna, the more curious you got.
⟢best friend! sukuna who could not believe his ears when you asked him to be your first. "well, I know you know what you are doing...and I trust you Kuna. but! don't feel pressured its no biggy.."
⟢best friend! sukuna who almost died and thanked every god out there. he's had the FATTEST crush of you for the longest time. Sure he wanted to take you on a date first, you are NOT just a quickie like the others, but who's he to turn down a good fuck? specially from you. "yeah I'll fuck you baby"
⟢best friend! sukuna who does not do his normal "bam bam thank you ma'am routine", but takes his time with you, peppering every inch of you in soft kisses, preparing your virgin cunt and taking pleasure in the way you taste and stretch around his fingers. He swears he saw the pearly gates when he finally sunk into you, and at that moment made a mental note to get rid of his booty call list
⟢virgin!reader who's pussy turned sukuna into a babbling mess over you. Sucking him in so well while you let out low moans so prettily in his ear. and when you whispered "ryo" so desperatly... "mmm pussy so good, augh fuck...fuck squeeze me like that and i'll- !!"
⟢best friend! sukuna who sets a new record with how fast he cums in you. it catches him more off guard than you. and oh when you squeeze down on his cock when you cum he nearly releases a second time. "fuck you should have let me hit sooner, baby"
⟢best friend? sukuna who is now thinking of all the ways he can court you now. whoring days behind! all it took was some good puss to domesticate him. "Let's take a shower and go out for dinner, yeah?" (he wasn't asking) yes he did hit again in the shower, you gave him a taste and now he's addicted.
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oh my god. i want him so bad its shameful. the ovulation is starting to get to me i am NOT your strongest soldier. I wanna make a full fic of this. Yes i forgot about the nanami one, its on the back burner now !!! i NEEED this sukuna one rn
im very open to feedback and ideas!! <333
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bi-writes · 2 months ago
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can we have like a pov of like what MOB would do if something did happen to simon..? luv you!
mail-order bride
your tea is cold when you pick it up to drink it. it burns you, how cold it is, and you cough a little as you set it down, grimacing as you wipe your lips.
maybe it's just one of those days. the rain is hitting a little too hard against the window. the cats have been restless. the dark one shredded your yoga mat by clawing at it under a doorway, and the orange tabby managed to knock over all of simon's plants from the windowsill (which you frantically put back inside their little pots--would plant murder be his last straw?). you left a red shirt in when you washed the whites (you apologized to all of simon's white tees), and when you noticed holes in your favorite sweats in a pattern that matched a cat's claws, you called it a day and decided to make tea (another fail).
you rub your pounding head, taking a deep breath, but you aren't given long to count down from five when your phone begins to ring.
you pick it up, not recognizing the number, but you put it to your ear as you get up to boil more water.
"hello?"
a throat clears on the other end. "do i have mrs. riley 'ere?"
you frown, leaning your hip against the kitchen counter as you turn a burner on and put the kettle over it.
"uhm...yeah. this is she," you say finally. you look at the clock; it's late, much too late. "who is this?"
"this is john. ah...captain john price, ma'am."
you clench your jaw, closing your eyes. "um...i'm sorry, i...what can i do for you? simon's not--"
"we had to call for medevac," john says lowly. "ahh...should be headin' into surgery soon. i--"
"wait--what?" you cough a little, shutting the stove off, and you're scrambling as you make your way to the bedroom. he's talking again, you realize, but you can't hear what he's saying. your eyes are moving around the room, and you frantically start to pull drawers open, grabbing a sweater, jeans, actual clothes to put on. you shed your pajamas, hopping as you slide your jeans on, and he's still talking, but you still hear nothing.
you run into the dresser, the furniture rattling, and you let the phone go, realizing you can't see because there's tears blurring your vision. you wipe them away, looking around for your purse, and when you realize what this is, an emergency--right?--you head for the bookcase in simon's study.
you toss a few books down onto the floor, your hands shaking as your fingers curl around the spine of a leather bible. you set the book down on simon's desk, flipping through the pages before you find your prized paper nestled between the pages of the book of john.
you head back to the bedroom, picking up the phone again, and you shakily dial the number that's on the back of the card. you take a seat on the bed (because where would you go anyways?), and you close your eyes as you wait for someone to pick up.
it rings for too long. you gasp a little, clutching the phone tight, and you beg for someone to pick up, please, please, please--
"'ello?"
"johnny--" you hiccup, standing up. "johnny, he...he told me--"
"wha--who--" on the other end, johnny shouts at someone to get a move on, "--bleedin' christ, who is this?"
"it's me," you whisper. "i'm...simon's--"
"ach...fuckin' hell..." there's a long, deep sigh on the other end. "oi, lass, listen, he's alright--"
"he's...b-but someone said surgery."
"right, i..." he sighs again, and you hear a door shut on the other end. "ye sit tight, luv. i'll come get ye, okay?"
you sniffle, wiping your face, "just tell me he's gonna be okay. tell me i'm worrying for nothing."
johnny chuckles a bit, and the sound soothes you just enough. "gonna be alright. lad's fuckin' dramatic, i'll tell ye tha', big brick fuckin' stepped in front of--"
"okay, johnny, please don't tell me how simon almost killed himself and get your ass over here, okay?" you snap, and johnny halts his laughing.
"right, yeah, forgive me." you hear the rattle of keys. "'m coming."
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"mrs. riley?"
your head lifts up. you blink the sleep out of your eyes, rubbing them gently, and there's a petite woman in scrubs smiling at you with her mask hanging around her neck. you have two sergeants at either side of you, captain price settled leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. you have a blanket around your shoulders, and when you slip it off, johnny takes it from you gently.
"you can see him now."
you get to your feet, and when you pass simon's captain, he tips his hat at you respectfully. you hurry and follow the doctor down the hall, and when you see simon's name scribbled on a makeshift sigh on the wall, you eagerly pick up the pace until the door is opened for you.
he looks peaceful laying there. the monitors beep quietly around him, little wires and tubes falling around him, and you let out a breath when you see him blink those dark eyes awake blearily.
"tha' an angel?"
you start to cry. "you're such an asshole."
you come close to the side of the bed, taking his outstretched hand, and you clutch his big hand to your chest. you curl his hand into a fist, pressing your face against the back of his hand, kissing his knuckles there gently. he uncurls his fingers and wipes at your tears gently, shaking his head.
"gave ya a right scare, didn't i?"
"yes, you dickhead," you sniffle, and simon chuckles lowly, wincing a little as he clutches his lower stomach. you use your foot to bring the chair behind you closer, taking a seat in it as you look up at him. he turns his head to face you, giving you a pained smile, and you let out the breath you've been holding since johnny came to get you. "what's the matter with you, simon?"
"shit happens."
you try not to roll your eyes, but the anger is not lost on simon. he squeezes your hand gently, his eyes flicking up to the clock, and he grimaces when he realizes it's nearly six in the morning. you must have been here all night, waiting for him.
"is this how it's gonna be?" you ask in a whisper. when he meets your eyes again, it's more difficult this time. what you're asking isn't predictable. it isn't a straight answer. and if he gives you anything that isn't the truth, it feels like a lie, and he can't do that to you. "w-waking up in the middle of the night? hoping that the call isn't...that...hoping that--"
"not that simple," simon interrupts gently.
"well, make it simple, simon," you say firmly. even through your tears, your voice doesn't shake this time. "make it very simple for me, then."
simon purses his lips, and for the first time since you've met your husband, he hesitates. he doesn't have an answer, at least a good one.
"don't wanna lie to ya, swee'eart," simon murmurs, and you stare right back at him.
"then don't."
he sucks on his teeth, looking away, and you tug on his hand, pulling his eyes back to you.
"look at me, simon," you say, and he looks sad. he's going to tell you something that you won't want to hear. he's going to tell you something that's been the truth since he enlisted, a reality that never bothered him until he realized he had a responsibility to keep a roof over your head. there's someone waiting inside of his house. there's a place that's waiting for him on one side of the bed he shares with you. there's someone else's shoes always next to his, and someone else's name that will always be beside his own.
family.
he has a family.
"i'll try and keep ya outta here," is all simon murmurs. you smile at that. it's a promise, but he won't lie to you. always honest, your husband. he tells you things as they are. he doesn't pretend. everything with simon is the truth as he presents it, and it's eerily comforting, even if the truth isn't one that you like.
"i love you, simon," you whisper, and when you touch his face finally, the sting of the gold of your wedding is a welcome distraction.
he vows to make this the last time you see him this way. nothing is worth seeing that face of yours like this--tired, disheveled, the angry crease in your brow. you're not meant for these things. for the waiting, the crying, the worry, it's not a life he meant to give you.
for a moment, he wonders if you'd ever ask him.
will you hang it up for me? will you leave for me?
the most terrifying part, he realizes, is that he isn't sure of what his answer would be. and he isn't sure of what you would do if he told you no.
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lev1hei1chou · 3 months ago
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When their child wants a sibling
Dad!Gojo x reader, Dad!Nanami x reader Genre: Fluff Masterlist Requests open!
GOJO SATORU
"Mommy, can I have a sibling?" your five-year-old daughter, Hikari, asked as she plopped down next to you on the couch, her eyes wide and hopeful. You were in the middle of reading a book, and the sudden question caught you off guard.
Gojo, who was lounging on the other end of the couch, immediately perked up. "A sibling, huh?" he mused, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "That sounds like a great idea."
You shot him a look. "Satoru, we need to talk about this first."
"But Mommy," Hikari interrupted, "all my friends at kindergarten have siblings. I'm the only one who doesn't."
You sighed, closing your book and putting it aside. "It's not that simple, sweetheart. Having a sibling is a big responsibility."
Satoru scooted closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "She's right, Hikari. It means sharing your toys, your room, and your parents' attention. Are you ready for that?"
She nodded vigorously. "Yes! I promise I'll be the best big sister ever. I can even help take care of the baby!"
You looked at Gojo, who was trying to not laugh. "Well, I suppose we can think about it."
"Yay!" Hikari cheered, jumping off the couch and running around the living room in excitement.
Gojo leaned in and whispered in your ear, "Looks like we're in for some fun times ahead."
Later that evening, after Hikari had been put to bed, you and Gojo sat in the kitchen, sipping tea. "Do you really think we can handle another kid?" you asked, looking over at him.
"Of course we can," he replied confidently. "We're a great team, and besides, Hikari will make an awesome big sister."
You smiled, feeling reassured by his words. "I guess we could start trying."
Gojo's grin widened. "That's the spirit! And, you know, the trying part is the most fun."
You rolled your eyes but couldn't help laughing. "You're impossible, Satoru."
A few weeks later, you found yourself in the same spot on the couch, Hikari sitting on your lap this time, telling you all about her day at kindergarten. Your husband was, as usual, lounging next to you, pretending to be deeply interested in a magazine.
"Mommy, did you and Daddy think about what we talked about?" Hikari asked suddenly, looking up at you with her big, innocent eyes.
You exchanged a glance with Gojo, who gave you a slight nod. "Yes, we did," you said. "And we decided that we're going to try to give you a sibling."
Her face lit up with joy. "Really? When?"
"Well," Gojo began, putting down his magazine, "it might take some time. Making a baby is a little complicated."
Hikari frowned, clearly not understanding. "But you can do it, right?"
Gojo chuckled. "Yes, we can do it. You just have to be patient, okay?"
"Okay!" she agreed, and then ran off to play with her toys.
You turned to Gojo, who was trying to suppress his laughter. "You're enjoying this way too much," you said.
"I can't help it," he replied. "It's just so cute seeing her so excited."
Days passed, and Hikari kept asking every now and then about her future sibling. Every time, her dad would give her some humorous yet evasive answer, like "We're working on it," or "These things take time."
One day, you and Gojo sat Hikari down for a serious talk. "Baby, we have some news for you," you began, holding her small hands in yours.
"What is it?" she asked, her eyes wide with curiosity.
"Mommy is going to have a baby," you announced, watching her reaction closely.
She gasped, her face lighting up with excitement. "Really? I'm going to be a big sister?"
"Yes, you are," Gojo confirmed, ruffling her hair. "But remember, it means you'll have to be very patient and very helpful."
"I will! I promise!" Hikari declared, hugging both of you tightly.
As the months went by, she was true to her word. She helped pick out baby clothes, decorated the nursery, and even tried to learn how to change diapers on her dolls. Gojo, ever the doting husband and father, made sure you were comfortable and happy, always ready with a joke or a warm hug.
One evening, as you all sat together in the nursery, she looked up at you and Gojo and said, "Thank you, Mommy and Daddy, for giving me a sibling. I can't wait to meet them."
You smiled, tears of joy in your eyes, and pulled her close. "You're going to be the best big sister ever, Hikari."
Gojo wrapped his arms around both of you, his voice soft and full of love. "And we're going to be the best family ever."
NANAMI KENTO
The sun peeked through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room where Nanami and you lay snuggled in bed on a lazy Sunday morning. The peace was interrupted by a small figure bouncing into the room with unmatched enthusiasm.
"Mama! Papa! Wake up!" Your energetic four-year-old, Haruto, exclaimed, jumping onto the bed.
Nanami groaned playfully, his arm draped over his eyes. "Haruto, it's too early for this much energy."
You chuckled, sitting up and ruffling Haruto's messy bedhead. "Good morning, champ! What's got you so excited?"
Haruto grinned widely, his eyes sparkling. "I want a little brother or sister!"
Nanami lifted his arm and squinted at Haruto. "What?"
Haruto nodded enthusiastically, his hands gesturing wildly. "Yeah! I want someone to play with!"
You exchanged a surprised glance with Nanami before bursting into laughter. "Oh, sweetheart, where did that come from?"
Nanami sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Haruto, having a sibling is a big responsibility. Are you sure about this?"
Haruto nodded again, his determination unwavering. "Yes! Like in the storybooks!"
Nanami looked at you, a mix of amusement and disbelief on his face. "Well, I suppose we should consider it."
You smiled at Nanami, silently agreeing that it was a discussion worth having later. "How about we start with breakfast, and then we can talk more about it, okay?"
Haruto nodded eagerly, already bouncing off the bed and heading towards the kitchen, his request seemingly forgotten in the excitement of pancakes.
As you all gathered around the table, Haruto dug into his pancakes with fervor, occasionally pausing to chatter about his favorite cartoon or his adventures with his friends at preschool. Nanami sipped his coffee, occasionally interjecting with a question or a gentle reminder to eat properly and slowly.
After breakfast, while Nanami tidied up the kitchen, you took Haruto to the living room where his toys were scattered about. Sitting down among the stuffed animals and building blocks, you leaned in closer to Haruto.
"Hey, buddy, about what you said earlier..."
Haruto looked up from his toys, eyes wide with anticipation. "Yes, Mama?"
You smiled warmly, trying to find the right words. "Having a brother or sister is a big decision for us grown-ups too. It's something we need to think about carefully."
Haruto nodded seriously, his brows furrowed in thought. "But Mama, Papa, I promise I'll be a good big brother! I'll share my toys and teach them everything!"
Your heart melted at his earnestness. "I'm sure you would be, sweetheart. We'll talk more about it, okay? Papa and I will figure out what's best for our family."
Haruto nodded again, seemingly satisfied with the answer, and resumed playing with his toys. You watched him for a moment, marveling at how quickly he was growing up. Glancing over at Nanami, who had finished cleaning and was now watching the two of you with a soft smile, you knew you were on the same page.
Later when Haruto was napping after lunch, you and Nanami spoke about what your son had started.
"I never thought we'd be having this conversation so soon," Nanami mused, his fingers lightly tracing patterns on your knee.
You chuckled softly, leaning into his touch. "Kids have a way of surprising you, don't they?"
Nanami nodded, his gaze warm and fond as he looked at you. "I think Haruto would make a wonderful big brother."
You smiled, feeling a swell of love for both your husband and your son. "He really would."
One day, after putting your child to bed, you found yourselves lingering at the kitchen table, a stack of pamphlets and notes scattered between cups of cooling tea. Nanami glanced up from a particularly detailed chart of baby essentials, his expression thoughtful.
"Are you ready for this?" he asked quietly, his eyes meeting yours over the rim of his glasses.
You nodded, reaching across to take his hand. "I think so. Our little one is growing up so fast. It feels like we have so much love to give."
He squeezed your hand gently, his thumb rubbing circles on your skin. "I agree. And he's already so excited about the idea of a sibling."
You smiled, thinking back to the countless times your child had brought up the topic, from drawing pictures of a baby with their older sibling to asking if you could name the new addition after their favorite cartoon character.
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yuujispinkhair · 5 months ago
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sukuna who's over heels with y/n, but y/n is stupidly in love with yuuji who is falling in love with megumi?!
Omggg I love this!!!! Thank you for sending me this 💗
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Modern!Sukuna x Reader (female)
Fluff. Hurt & Comfort. Friends to lovers. 2k words. Unrequited love/pining in the beginning. Sukuna and Reader get their happy end (Yuuji gets his happy end with Megumi). Mentions of cigarettes + alcohol. All characters are of age. Minors don't interact. Divider @/benkeibear
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Sukuna can only shake his head at the irony. He is in love. He is fucking in love for the first time in his life, and of course, it has to be someone he cannot have! Out of everyone at this stupid college, it has to be the girl who likes his brother!
If it were any other guy, Sukuna wouldn't give a fuck and just flirt like hell with the girl he wants and give his best to steal her away from that other guy. But the problem is that Itadori Sukuna might be an asshole, but he isn't the type of asshole that would steal his brother's girl.
So Sukuna swallows down his heartbreak and forces himself to hold back, refusing to stand in the way of his baby brother's happiness. Sukuna might only be three minutes older, but he is still the big bro, still the one who sees it as his responsibility to look after his "little" brother. And Yuuji deserves it. He deserves a girl like you. He deserves your love. Sukuna will stay strong. He can do it.
But what Sukuna didn't take into account is how completely oblivious his brother is to your feelings.
You follow Yuuji around like a lost puppy, giving him hearteyes, practically swooning anytime he smiles his sunshine smile, hanging on his lips when he talks about his movie-directing classes and his new favorite TV show. But Yuuji doesn't seem to notice. And it makes Sukuna so mad! It drives him crazy! He almost spits his drink out when his brother gives you a high five and calls you "bro".
Sukuna feels sick to his stomach when he watches you wring your hands and shyly ask Yuuji if he maybe wants to go to the cinema with you to see the newest Human Earthworm movie. That super trashy horror series that Yuuji is always gushing about, which Sukuna is 99% sure you don't really like but only want to endure for the boy you have a big crush on.
But Sukuna's oblivious idiot of a brother just laughs and nods, happy that someone shares his taste, and totally misses the point,
"Yes, that's perfect! Let's also ask Megumi and Nobara to join us! Let's all go together! It will be so much fun!"
Sukuna thinks he can not only feel his own heart ache but also yours as he sees your face fall even while you force yourself to nod bravely and smile a sad smile at Yuuji.
It takes everything in Sukuna not to say something. But his restraint only lasts until he is alone with his brother. The moment the others have left, he shoves Yuuji into the wall, grabs his collar, and growls at him,
"You are so fucking dumb, brat! I would give anything to be in your shoes, but you don't even see that she wants you!"
And Yuuji blinks at him, all big eyes and completely confused,
"What the fuck are you talking about?"
Sukuna lets go of Yuuji, slumping against the wall next to him, sighing and explaining the situation to him. How Sukuna likes you, and how you like Yuuji, and how everything is such a mess, and how much he hates it, especially when his little brother is too blind to see what he could have!
"Now you know, brat. Go, get her. Just don't rub it in my face, ok? I'll stay away as much as possible."
Sukuna pushes himself off the wall, about to run away and hide in some dark corner or maybe find someone to fuck and distract him from all this shit. But to his utter surprise, Yuuji's hand darts out and grabs Sukuna's sleeve.
"Wait, Kuna! I don't even have those kinds of feelings for her! There is... um... well, there is actually someone else I like."
He stands there, scratching his neck, looking sheepishly at Sukuna and blushing a bit as Sukuna stares at him with question marks in his eyes.
"Who??"
"Um, he has black hair and likes dogs and... ah shit."
And Sukuna can't help it. He bursts out laughing, doubling over because this is just so fucking dumb and messy and getting more complicated every second, and he probably should have known!
"Damn, brat, that really sounds like you! Falling for your best friend!"
In the end, Sukuna plays matchmaker for Yuuji and Megumi. It's easy, considering the way Fushiguro has been looking at Yuuji since the first day he met him. And yeah, Sukuna is not only doing it because he loves his baby brother but also because of selfish reasons. Because it means you will have to let go of your crush on Yuuji. Not that Sukuna thinks you will turn to him, but at least he won't have to watch you date his brother and pretend he doesn't care!
It feels like someone is stabbing Sukuna's heart when he watches your face twist in pain at the next party when you see Yuuji walking into the room with Megumi's hand in his.
But it will be fine! After all, Sukuna is here to catch you and mend your broken heart again. As a friend, at least.
He quickly follows you when you leave the room and run towards the backyard. You sit down on the slightly damp grass, and Sukuna joins you, sitting silently next to you while tears run down your cheeks. Sukuna offers you his half-smoked cigarette, and when your eyes meet, he can't help but think that surely you must see the pain in his eyes, too.
He quickly takes a sip from the bottle he is holding to hide the emotions threatening to swallow him while silently cursing himself for following you out here. He misjudged how fucking hard it is to look at you when you are crying. If only Sukuna could just close the distance between you and claim you as his, just kiss all your pain and his pain away.
But of course, he knows it would be too soon. For once in his life, Sukuna doesn't just want to be a one-night stand or a rebound or a revenge fuck or whatever. For once in his life, he wants more. He wants everything.
And so Sukuna is patient. Just offers you his silent company, his cigarette, his bottle of vodka, and his leather jacket when it gets chilly, and you start to shiver. He offers you his friendship, his protection, and the kind of comfort he can give without fucking you. He drives you home, makes sure you have something to eat and get some sleep.
He bangs on your door three days later when you still haven't come back to campus, calling you a brat and an idiot because it's the only way he knows how to show his worry. But he hopes he's making it better by shoving a vanilla latte and a bag with muffins from your favorite coffee shop into your hands.
Your eyes look puffy from crying, and you seem confused about what he is doing here, but you take the food and coffee from him. And Sukuna smirks at you and refuses to leave when you tell him you look like hell and don't want him to see you like that.
"I don't care, princess. Eat those damn muffins and drink your latte before it gets cold. I didn't stand in line for half an hour for you to just ignore my treats. And by the way, you always look pretty to me."
He stays until you had breakfast and took a shower, coming back to the living area with a soft,
"Thank you, Sukuna. It was nice of you to bring me muffins and coffee."
Sukuna finally leaves, lifting one tattooed hand to casually wave at you as if his heart isn't about to burst because he wants to pull you against his chest and hold you and tell you he can make you happy again.
He skips some of his classes and instead goes to the gym, working out like a madman and beating up a punching bag until he is too exhausted to think about how sad you looked and how fucking much he wants to kiss it better.
He comes back the next day to pick you up and take you to the coffee shop with him, making sure you leave the house and join the living again! It cannot be that you are crying your eyes out in your room all day!
"Stop complaining and get your bratty ass off the couch! It will be good for you to get some fresh air and shit. I am warning you if you don't put on shoes in the next 30 seconds, I will make you walk to the coffee shop in socks!"
Oh yes, Sukuna is good at this. Acting grumpy and playing the asshole while taking care of you and making sure you are ok. And somehow, you are the only one, apart from his brother, who can see right through him because you roll your eyes and laugh softly and tell him that he is the nicest asshole you have ever met.
The two of you fall into a routine where Sukuna picks you up every morning and has breakfast with you before he walks you to your first class. You constantly grow closer, and Sukuna feels his mask slipping more often around you. His typical arrogant smirk softens into a genuine smile. His snide comments turn into compliments. He isn't sure if he is doing it by accident or intentionally. Maybe he is only reacting to the way you act around him.
Because your gaze doesn't follow his brother anymore. Your face doesn't fall when you see Yuuji with Megumi. Your smile doesn't falter when you spot pink hair and realize it's the bad boy twin with the tattoos and not the good boy twin with the sunshine smile. Sukuna even feels like your smile is growing brighter when you look at him.
Could it be?
And he notices more things. Notices how you always sit so close to him now when he is at your dorm and you play video games against each other. How you always laugh at his jokes, no matter how sarcastic they are. Or how you look at him sometimes when you think he doesn't realize it. How your eyes get that dreamy little sparkle when Sukuna is sleepy, and his voice gets low and a bit raspy. How you get goosebumps on your arms when Sukuna puts his hands on your hips to steer you through a crowded room.
A few weeks later, Sukuna finds himself back at the same spot where all those weeks ago, it all began. Sitting next to you in the grass in the small backyard of your friend's dorm, where you cried when Yuuji broke your heart.
But tonight, you aren't crying. Tonight, you are smiling and throwing your head back, laughing at some dry joke Sukuna makes, looking so carefree and happy. Your shoulder is brushing against Sukuna's biceps, and your hand lands on his thigh, giving it a playful smack and staying just a little too long. And Sukuna can't help but say in that low voice, you seem to like so much,
"You are so beautiful."
For a split second, he feels his chest tense up, scared that he fucked everything up. Scared that he got it wrong and you still want his brother. Or maybe some other guy. Scared that you only see Sukuna as a good friend. Or that you only see him the way the whole campus sees him: as that sexy, asshole guy who is only good for casual sex and nothing more.
But then you turn your head to look at him, and Sukuna sees that soft expression in your eyes, the one he used to see on your face when you looked at his brother. But now it is for him, for Sukuna. And he simply knows without you having to spell it out. He knows that things have truly changed.
So, Sukuna decides to do what he wanted to do for a long time.
"I am sorry that you cried the last time we were in this backyard. But I am not sorry for why it happened. My brother is an idiot for not wanting you like that. But I am glad he is an idiot because otherwise, I wouldn't be able to do this..."
And Sukuna puts a hand under your chin, cupping it with a gentleness he didn't know he possessed while looking deeply into your eyes, checking one last time if he really got it right. You look at him with wide eyes, but you smile and nod softly as your gaze travels down to his lips.
And Sukuna sighs and presses his lips gently against yours, kissing you like he never kissed someone before, slow and gentle, as if he is scared you will break or slip through his fingers. A kiss with his eyes closed and his chest filling with a warmth he didn't know until now. A kiss into which Sukuna pours all the secret longing he felt for you for months, all the feelings he tried to hold back for his brother's sake and then for the sake of not fucking things up.
But finally, he doesn't have to hold back anymore. Because you chose him. You chose Sukuna. You are sitting here with him, with your hand in his hair and your lips moving slowly against his, a happy sigh and a soft murmur of his name falling from your lips.
The two of you only stop kissing when Sukuna's head is already spinning from the lack of oxygen. He pulls away only enough to grin at you and stroke your cheek with his thumb. And you smile back at him and whisper,
"I am glad, too, that Yuuji turned me down. Because otherwise I wouldn't have found out that it's his brother who is my perfect match. I wouldn't have found out that you, Itadori Sukuna, are the one I like the most out of everyone."
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AAAHHH I LOVE HIM SO MUCH 😭😭 Thank you so much for sending me this ask. I see Sukuna + unrequited love/pining and I lose my mind!! It's my weakness and makes me so so soft for him (even more than usual).
I hope you liked this little hurt/comfort story!! Comments and reblogs would be very sweet 💗
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sehnsuchts-trunken · 6 months ago
Text
What Happens in Cars, Stays in Cars
dbf!jake seresin x fem!reader 9k words
summary: After a month-long deployment, Jake is finally coming back home. Well, not home home. You're too desperate to wait until you've actually got him home. But who needs home when there's a perfectly good car anyway?
a/n: porn with plot. a lot of plot. and a lot of porn. 18+ obviously. reader is twenty-five in this, jake is forty-seven. as always, a list of things to watch out for:
nudes. mentions of masturbation. pet names used in an unholy way. the word 'brat' is dropped twice. safe sex (yess they still have a condom!!! i feel like i deserve a round of applause for not forgetting it). car sex, so a tiny smidge of exhibitionism. dom!jake. a lot of begging, as always. a tad bit dry humping. first finger sucking, then fingering. any more, uh....? i don't think so. there's not much space in a car for anything else.
top gun masterlist | dbf!jake seresin masterlist
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(the gif has nothing at all to do with the fic, but tell me that's not dbf!jake working out in his backyard knowing you're watching him istg)
It's a one time thing. That's what they told him. A one time thing.
He isn't supposed to do these anymore. He's supposed to be stationed permanently, sitting in his office and doing what an admiral does. Important work, surely. It's a high honour and he's proud, of course. But office work... Office work has never really been his thing. And if they'd deployed him for this mission four months earlier, he would've been thrilled.
He's the best of the best. The navy knows. He knows. Which is why he's an admiral by now. And also why they want him coaching the new hotshots for a month, halfway across the country.
And, yes, he would've been thrilled - four months ago.
Four months ago, when you'd not yet moved back home. Four months ago, when he hadn't yet met you. Four months ago, when he hadn't known what it was like to hold you, to touch you, to miss you.
His phone chimes and momentarily distracts him. It's not that he didn't mute it - he's standing in front of a bunch of twenty-something year olds who he does try to be a role model for - it's just that you'd tampered with it once and ever since then, you've had a personalised ringtone that still somehow works even when everything else is muted. (He could totally turn that off if he wanted to, though. Definitely. Ab-so-lu-tely. He just... doesn't.)
His jaw clenches and he has to restart his sentence, but other than that, he manages to pretend nothing happened. Nonetheless, he has to glare at the snickering wannabe-pilots in the first row, who remind him very much of a young version of himself.
You're three hours ahead of him and probably just got off work. It's likely nothing but a sweet "having a good day?" message or maybe a photo of you all dressed up, ready for dinner with your friends like you'd planned.
Either way, knowing your message is sitting unopened in your chat has him talking quicker. He finishes his lecture half an hour early and fishes his phone from his pocket before the first of his pupils have even got up from their seats - which turns out to be a horrible, horrible idea, because the photo attached to "don't know how long i'll stay out, have a nice night, admiral" with the winky face emoji is not one of you all dressed up for a night out with your friends, but one of you in just a pair of panties in front of the mirror. The mirror in his bedroom.
Fucking god-
He seems to let out some kind of choked up groan or something of the sort, because a few of his pilots turn to look back at him. One even has the audacity to ask if he's alright, which he certainly isn't. But that's absolutely not their problem.
So he grumbles something about how they should all use their free time to go to the gym instead of bothering him before he collects his things and flees to his room. One of the many advantages of being an admiral, of course, is that he doesn't have to bunk anymore, which is always the greatest nuisance for anybody who's ever looking for privacy. The times he's had to listen to guys jack off a foot away from him- fuck, the times they'd had to listen to him.
No, right now he is incredibly thankful for the privacy of his bedroom as he locks the door behind him and opens his phone again. Goddamn, why were you in his house? His fingers hover over the call button for a few seconds, but then he decides against it - you're going out with friends for the first time in months, he doesn't want to bother you.
He's popping the button of his jeans and sitting down on his bed right as you come online.
"Like the pictures, baby? I've got more"
And before he can even respond, you've sent a bunch more selfies, half of them in front of his mirror, the other half on his bed and none of them decently clothed. Fucking hell, in one you've got your fingers down your panties and Jake is really thankful for the privacy of his room then because he groans so loudly that a bunkmate would definitely have heard.
"Are you still at dinner?", he asks, his fingers flying over his keyboard while he tugs at his zipper with his left hand.
"Yeah, won't be home soon", you write back. "Sorry"
"Don't be", Jake responds, as quickly as he can, because he definitely does not want to make you feel bad for spending time with your friends. "Have fun"
"Have fun with the pics", you send. Jake can picture your grin, sitting all dressed up in a restaurant and ignoring your friends to text him. "Thought those could maybe make up for no phone call tonight"
He swallows hard as you log off, leaving him with those pretty pictures of yours that certainly improve his night by a lot. Hell, he's already moving his briefs out of the way and clicking on your photos again. Just seeing you half-naked in his room - fuck, the thought of you sneaking over there only to do a goddamn photoshoot... You're really unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable. And he can't wait to get back home to you.
...
"I miss you", you mumble into the phone, blinking at the alarm clock on your nightstand. It's eleven thirty, not nearly late enough for you to feel as exhausted as you do.
"I miss you too, darling", you hear Jake drawl on the other end of the call. "I'll be back soon."
"Not soon enough", you whine - god, you sound pathetic and miserable to your own ears already, you must sound ten times worse to him. You fall back onto your pillows and let out a deep sigh. "Would it be rude to say I hope the mission gets cancelled?"
Jake chuckles. Fucking hell, you miss that chuckle so much. You miss him so much. You miss cuddling up to him under the covers and tucking your head under his chin. You miss running your fingers through his hair and having your hands on him. You miss seeing him, standing in the kitchen or working out or tinkering in the backyard or fresh out of the shower. Shit, you even miss sneaking around with him, because at least then you'd gotten to watch him from a distance, maybe steal a kiss when your parents hadn't been looking or spend a night at his house pretending to be at your friend's.
Now he's halfway across the country and absolutely, completely out of reach. You'd barely gotten to see him at all - twice it had worked out to video-call during a lunch break, once he even managed to show you around his office after work. The camera quality is hardly any good, of course, which means video-calls aren't all that great, plus the connection never seems to really be stable, so with a few exceptions, you've only seen Jake in pictures over the past two and a half weeks.
His deployment would take another one and a half and then, finally, he'd be back home. Back home with you.
"I won't answer that", Jake says, and you can almost hear him grin. "But I wouldn't mind either if they moved the mission up."
You have to bite down on your lip to hide a smile.
"So you think you're good to go?", you ask softly, not wanting to bring the mood down further, instead opting for the non-classified work questions. You've already been bringing down the mood enough back here at home - you don't need to fill the few minutes a day you get with Jake with your whining as well. Your parents already hear enough of that. Of course, they don't know why you've been in such a bad mood ever since Jake left. And they can't know, either. You can't tell them. You can't tell anyone.
You can't tell anyone because no one knows that you've been sneaking around with your dad's best friend for the past three months. So you resign yourself to moping around and keeping out of everybody's way as much as you can. For one and a half week more, one and a half...
...
Exactly one and a half week later you're standing at the airport in your best heels and a little yellow sundress and are positively buzzing with nervous energy. Jake's plane would get in at half, he'd said, when you'd last spoken to him six hours earlier. Then the plane had taken off and so had his wifi.
You're playing around with a strand of your hair and doing your hardest not to start chewing off your nails, which proves more difficult than you'd thought (even though you'd put on nail polish).
You're just so excited.
It's been a month since you'd last seen him. A month. And at the early stage of your... relationship, if you could call it that, that's basically half a year. God, how long it's been since you've run your hands through his hair, since you've felt his arms around you.
You miss him so much.
Your phone chimes and you fish it out of your pocket with trembling hands, only to be disappointed when it's not a message from Jake. It's not like you'd told him to text when he'd landed, just... A part of you is kind of scared you're waiting in the wrong place. Maybe he's on the other end of the airport - it's not a particularly small one. It'd take you hours to find each other if you were waiting in the wrong place.
Then again - maybe the plane is late. Maybe he's had to wait for his luggage.
You check the time, just to be safe. It's 11:46. For all you know, Jake is still in the air. Or less than a door away.
You bounce on your feet, nervously shifting back and forth before checking your phone again. The text you'd gotten is from one of your friends, who you text back only to distract you. It barely works anyway. You can't put it away again quickly enough.
It's not even that you don't want to distract yourself. You just physically can't pay attention. You've been a nervous wreck for the past three days, ever since you'd made the plan to pick him up from the airport. Which is probably why you almost don't spot him.
Almost.
He walks through the opened doors with his suitcase rolling behind him, his backpack slung over his shoulder and at least five other people rushing past him.
He sees you before you see him.
But then, then when you see him-
You're already sprinting towards him before your mind even tells your legs to move. You can't control it and you can't be bothered to. Why would you?
You don't care about the people glancing at you with raised eyebrows. You only care about Jake, about Jake who's standing there, pulling his hand from the handle of his suitcase and grinning at you. Grinning at you as you run at him and throw yourself into his arms.
He catches you effortlessly and steadies you as you cross your hands behind his neck and press your lips to his.
God, how you've missed him! How long you haven't kissed him!
His palms flatten against your back and he holds you tight, so tightly to him. You push even closer. He's here. He's back.
You don't realise you're crying until you taste the tears.
That's when Jake pulls back.
"I've missed you", he mutters, raising a hand and brushing the tears off your cheeks. You lean into the touch and tighten your arms around his neck. You're really touching him. He's really here.
"I missed you too", you try to say, but you're choked up and crying and it somehow comes out a blubbering, stuttering mess that you're not quite sure Jake can even understand. "Missed you so much."
He smiles one of those gorgeous smiles that you haven't seen in far too long before he leans down and presses a soft kiss to your forehead. Your eyes flutter closed as you lean into him, your fingers trailing up the nape of his neck. His breath mingles with yours as he draws you in again and catches you in another kiss, tugging gently at your bottom lip as if he has all the time in the world to do it - slow and languid and real. Finally real again.
He pulls you in by your waist, his hands splayed wide and so, so big against your thin sundress. Your nails scratch against his neck and he lets out a groan and suddenly, he's got his hands on your thighs and you're wrapping your legs around his middle and tightening your arms around him and his lips are working against yours feverishly, heavily, messily. You're crossing your feet behind his back when one of them hits something hard. You've flinched away from him even before you can hear the dull crash of his suitcase kissing the airport floor.
There's blood rushing in your ears and you're sure if someone measured your heart rate right now, you'd be sent to the ER immediately. You probably look like a tomato with all the redness in your cheeks. But Jake stares at his suitcase silently for two seconds too, breathing heavily as his grip on you tightens further.
As much as he likes having you in his arms, his suitcase reminds him that you're still very much in the middle of a well-used airport. So he turns back to you and lowers his voice.
"I think we should get out of here, darling."
Your lips tug up into a grin and you lean in to give him just one last, quick kiss.
"Yeah", you breathe, carefully jumping back down onto your own feet. Jake lets go of you only reluctantly - if this wasn't a public airport, he'd never have let you go again. But it is, so he swallows hard as you brush your palms down your dress and blink up at him with a smile.
You're wearing heels. You're still shorter than him by quite a bit.
His amusement melts into a frown when you grab the handle of his suitcase.
"I've got that", he says, reaching his hand out to take the suitcase from you, but you're already maneuvering it away from him and starting to walk in the direction (you think it's the right direction) you'd parked your car in.
"I want to do it for you", you hum.
"Sweetheart, you're already doing enough for me", he says, and he really does mean it. You've driven all this way to come pick him up, you'd watered his plants while he'd been away, you'd even cleaned. That one mostly because you'd desperately needed something to do and Jake's house had always smelled like him, but still.
"Doing enough to you, you mean." Your grin borders on lewd as you dig your teeth into your lip.
"Yeah, that too", he sighs, but he has to grin as well. You're absolutely unbelievable. Instead of trying to argue (he knows it'd be fruitless anyway), he wraps an arm around your back and pulls you into his side, his hand resting on your waist again.
You glance at him.
"I'm not letting go of this suitcase", you warn, even as you lean into his side and swallow. God, he looks so good. And he smells so good. And he feels so good.
"Got it", he chuckles, brushing a kiss to your temple and pulling you even closer into him. He can't have you close enough. Does this fucking airport not have an end? He just needs a little more privacy, a little more space-
"This way", you say and point right. Jake smiles at you as you guide him down the halls. He can't help but watch, can't help but stare at you, at your dress in that soft shade of yellow and your matching heels. Autumn doesn't seem to have caught up with you yet. Then again - autumn hasn't caught up with this place yet. And he's used to Texas heat, he likes that it doesn't get cold here. Also, those sundresses... Yeah, he certainly isn't complaining about the weather.
You speed up when you finally catch sight of the doors, dragging him along with you, almost falling into a jog. The suitcase rumbles against the airport floor, the wheels click-clacking over uneven ridges and bumps and then, thank god, you feel the sunshine on your skin. His hand tightens around your waist.
"Home sweet home", you grin as you take the first step onto concrete. You swivel around and steady both palms against the handle of his suitcase behind your back, bouncing on your heels and looking up at him. "After about a three hour drive."
Jake chuckles and looks back at you with raised eyebrows.
"You'll drive?", he asks. You hum.
"Maybe", you grin as you turn away again and walk over to your car, parked only three rows away for whatever holy reason. You'd been incredibly lucky. And you'd almost run over a grandma. "Or maybe not."
Jake follows you with another low chuckle that sends a pleasant tingling sensation down your spine. It's been so long since you heard that chuckle behind you.
He's next to you again within a few long strides, reaching out for you and you slow your steps to intertwine your fingers with his.
His hands are so big. He's holding onto you so firmly. Fuck, you've missed him so much.
You squeeze his hand and walk a little quicker. Car, home. Car, home. That's it. Then you've got him all to yourself. You can see the car glinting in the sunlight already - and then it's three hours. Three hours next to him in an enclosed space before you've truly got him back.
You stop and let go of his suitcase to fish the car keys out of your pocket without dropping his hand. You push the unlock button and open up the trunk before you turn to Jake and grin at him.
You want to say something, really. It's on the tip of your tongue, still running through your mind, but you've completely forgotten it when you look up at him.
Because while you'd been dragging him to the car, he'd pulled his sunglasses out and put them on and for whatever reason... That kind of does it for you. Holy shit.
"Are those new?", you ask hoarsely and swallow hard, the car keys digging into your palm as you tighten your fist around them. Maybe it's just that you haven't seen him in a month. Or maybe it's the way the sunlight catches his hair, slightly longer than when he'd left. Maybe it's just that with the sun behind him, you've got no choice but to squint at his broad shoulders.
"The other pair broke", Jake explains, letting go of your hand only to wrap his arms around your waist. Fuck, you're just standing there, doing absolutely nothing and he already can't keep from touching you. He has to touch you. He's got to put his arms around you and pull you close. "Why? Don't like it?"
You steady your palms against his chest and let out a breath as your eyes drop to his lips - he's got that cheeky look on his face that's not really a grin but not really not a grin and that nobody but him can do.
"I do", you counter, because it's the truth, and there's no way you can lie to him. "I very much do."
"Very much?" Jake does grin then, raises his eyebrows and pulls you fully against him. "That's more than just a yes."
Your fingers fist his shirt, the car keys digging into his chest just as firmly as they're digging into your palm now. He doesn't seem to be too bothered. He really isn't too bothered.
"They look good on you", you mutter, pulling him even closer. It's been too long since you'd pulled him close... And he feels so good, smells so good, looks so good. Fuck, he's so big and broad and-
"Thanks", he mutters, his grin all cheeky and self-assured and god, is it really this hot? Do you just feel this hot? Because you feel really, really hot. Your skin is burning. How the hell are you supposed to manage a three hour car ride?
"Jake", you whimper, without even meaning to. It's barely above a breath, barely above a whisper, and still too much of a whine to sound anything close to appropriate. A sort of grunt leaves his lips before his arms tighten around you, before he slots his mouth over yours hard. His thumbs drag circles against the small of your back, catching on the fabric of your dress. Your fingertips dig into his shirt, into his chest.
The sun beams down on you, warming your thighs and your arms and every exposed inch of skin, brightness behind closed eyelids as you push further and further into him. He's so sturdy, all hard abs right in front of you, broad arms around you.
You don't even notice the breathless moan that escapes your tongue. You can only feel the heat boiling inside of you, the desperate heat inside of you crawling up your body, every inch of you burning. Burning with want for him. With need for him. Fuck, he's been gone for way too long.
And then he pulls back.
You need a few seconds to even blink yourself back to reality.
"Home?", he suggests, even though it's less of a suggestion and more just a fact. He's getting you home. Now.
"Please", you whine, already halfway through pulling back and dropping the car keys into his palm. Three hours. Three fucking hours, you... You simply won't manage to sit down behind the steering wheel with your skin crawling and your underwear soaked through.
You'll barely manage sitting in the passenger seat.
Jake presses another kiss against your temple before he grabs his suitcase and leaves you standing there, trying to pull yourself together. He's breathing hard and his muscles are tight, his jaw clenched as he heaves his suitcase into the trunk and drops his backpack into it right after.
You force your legs to work, to carry you to the passenger side, force your arm to raise and your hand to close around the handle. It's heavy and hard work. Your body feels leaden, entranced. You let yourself collapse onto the seat and close your eyes.
Fuck.
You'd forgotten how much... how easily...
"Seatbelt, darling", Jake reminds you as he climbs into the driver's seat and adjusts it. You swallow hard and strap yourself in, trying to even out your breathing and pull yourself back to reality while you fumble for the confirmative click.
"Three hours", you remind yourself breathily.
"Three hours", Jake agrees lowly and turns the key in the ignition.
You settle back in your seat and close your eyes, clenching and unclenching your jaw as the radio starts playing and the car rolls out of the parking lot. You just have to relax. Just relax. Relax.
So you breathe out deeply and open your eyes again. Jake glances over at you as you lean forward, flick through the radio channels and then adjust in your seat - it's touching too much, too little of your skin, and the way you're rubbing against it somehow doesn't help in the slightest.
Before you can tuck one of your legs under the other and press the heel of your foot against your core, Jake puts his hand against your thigh. Against your bare thigh. His big fucking hand against your bare thigh.
You bite down on your lip and look up at him.
God, he looks so good. His features are chiseled, his hair that sunny, beachy kind of blond-
"Stop that", Jake grunts, his eyes trained on the road in front of him. It takes you two seconds to even realise he's talking to you. You'd kind of lost yourself in staring at him there.
"Stop what?", you ask, voice hitching as his fingers tighten on your thigh. Damn it, he needs to stop that. He's hardly been driving five minutes, he can't already be teasing you.
For once, actually, he doesn't even mean to tease you - not that you know. He just can't help but touch you, not when he hasn't touched you in a month, not when you're sitting so deliciously, tauntingly next to him.
"Stop looking at me like that", he says, taking his hand off of you to change gears before grabbing even tighter onto you again. "Or I'll have to pull over."
You brush your fingers along his wrist. Your chest feels tight, so tight. It takes everything in you not to push his hand further up your thigh. And you'd actually thought you'd manage a three hour car ride.
"I'll stop", you breathe, even though pulling over doesn't seem like the worst idea. "If you want me to."
A muscle twitches in his jaw.
"Don't do that", he warns, his voice staggering into that indecent gruff of his that has you clenching your thighs together, trapping his fingertips between your legs.
"Don't do what?", you ask, trying your best to sound somewhat innocent while you continue this little taunting game, not as though you're deliberately riling him up. You aren't, really. It's more just a reflex.
He turns his head to you then. His eyes are narrowed and his jaw is clenched and honestly, the way he's meeting your gaze all serious, as though he's trying to reprimand you just by looking at you - for no more than three seconds, of course, before he drags his eyes back to the road - has your lips tugging up in a teasing grin.
"Jake", you whisper, drawing your nails slowly up his arm, all the way from his wrist to his elbow. "Baby. You've been away for so long. You know how lonely I've been, right?"
Jake glances at you again and grunts his agreement, eyebrows raising as he starts to realise what you're doing.
"You can't blame me for looking at you", you go on, digging your fingertips into a spot right above his elbow and drawing one, two circles there. "Or for touching you."
Then you shift in your seat, spread your legs a little and run your fingers down his arm again. You grab his hand and brush his fingertips against the soaked spot on your panties.
"Or for being this wet", you whisper, your breath hitching from the sting in your stomach. He lets out a low curse. "I've just missed you so much."
He sucks in a breath then and trails his fingertips up your panties once, just once, before he jerks his hand back and clenches it hard around the steering wheel, so hard that his knuckles turn wide. Fuck. Fuck! Fuck! You're driving him crazy. You're driving him fucking crazy.
He's supposed to be responsible here. Somewhat responsible. You're young, you've got that risky twinkle in your eyes that he knows so well because he'd seen it in the mirror himself for over twenty years. He knows the thrilling buzz that's running through your veins. He still feels it whenever he's in the air. And he feels it around you.
Which is why he's not responsible, not when it comes to you. Not when you're sitting next to him in that pretty dress, with no shorts on and completely fucking soaked through.
You grin to yourself as he pulls off the highway and bite down on your lip, shifting in your seat once more, fighting the urge to trail your own fingers into your panties.
You haven't even asked how his deployment had been.
But goddamn, you'll have enough time to do that once you've got home. Or got off. Or got him off. At this point, you don't fucking care.
He pulls into one of those parking lots that mainly trucks use, one of those where there's hardly ever a toilet and if, then one that hasn't been usable since the last century. Right now, there's two trucks right at the front that Jake just brushes past. He parks your car at the far end and turns the motor off.
The silence is heavy.
Your breath comes much too quickly. Your eyes are fixed on him. And every inch of your skin is crawling with heat. But you don't move. You can't move.
He rolls his seat all the way back.
"Jake-", you whisper, catching on his name when he looks up and meets your eyes. There's a ghost of a grin on his lips, but... Maybe you're wrong.
"Yes, darling?", he asks, raising his eyebrows and leaning back in his seat. You have to strain your neck to keep looking at him. Instead of an answer, you just softly shake your head. You're suddenly unsure of what to say. His eyes weigh you down. You're painfully aware of every inch of your skin under his watchful gaze.
"Come on", he drawls, the grin that's growing on his lips more obvious now. "You were all eager to talk just then, baby."
Your teeth catch on your lip as you let out a breathless sigh. Your fingers hover over the buckle of your seat belt. Can you? Or...
"I missed you", you whisper, letting your fingertips glide over the hard plastic. "Can I-"
You swallow.
"Can you what, darling?", he repeats, grinning widely now.
You chew on your lip as you push down and unbuckle yourself slowly, your eyes still trained on Jake, who simply watches you with raised eyebrows.
"Can I touch you?", you whisper, your breath disappearing into the thick air of the car, the seatbelt still caught between your fingers. The corners of his mouth only tug up further.
You look angelic with your wide eyes and rosy cheeks, so obviously desperate to feel him - but still you don't move. You sit there and wait for him to tell you what to do. To allow you to do something. Anything. It's almost endearing how well behaved you are in moments like this.
"Go on, darling", he drawls. "Come here."
Without hesitation, you reach over the centre console and grab onto his shoulders, steadying yourself against him as you throw one of your legs over his and climb into his lap. His hands find your waist, grab onto your sides, hold you softly against him. Your teeth dig into your lip as you sink down, your fingers trailing along the outline of his collarbones over his shirt, your dress riding up and pooling around your hips. You suck in a breath when your panties drag against his jeans.
Fuck. It's been so long. It's been way too long.
"Jake", you mutter as you lean in, pressing your lips to the corner of his mouth, brushing your nose against his cheek. "You look good."
He lets out a breathy chuckle, his grip on you tightening.
"I know, darling", he can't help but say with a grin. "Thanks."
You giggle onto his skin as you trail your lips down his jaw. Sometimes he's incredibly unbelievable. I know. How cocky. Not that he shouldn't be - goddamn, he should be! You can't even fault him. And confidence is sexy. Especially on him. Though, then again, anything on him is sexy.
"I've missed you", you mutter, pressing another open-mouthed kiss against his skin, this time against the spot between his neck and his ear. "Missed looking at you. Missed touching you."
"Yeah", Jake breathes, digging his hands into your hips and pulling you harder onto him. "I've missed you too."
He's missed you so fucking much that he's hurting, straining against his jeans so hard that he feels like he might combust. And you're kissing down his throat, pressing your lips against his skin, wanting, needing to touch him, to feel him-
A month away from each other. A month too long.
"I need you, Jake", you whimper into his ear, all breathy and desperate, rocking softly back and forth in his lap and letting your eyes fall shut.
"You need me, baby?", he echoes, grabbing you as tightly as he can and dragging you against him, his head thumping back against the seat.
A filthy moan slips past your lips as your hips roll against his, finally, for the first time in weeks. God, yes, you need him so badly. You need him now. Here and now, in the driver's seat of your car.
"Please, Jake", you breathe, steadying one palm against his chest and grabbing one of his hands with the other. You wrap your fingers around his wrist and tug it off of you, but before you can drag it down to your panties again, drop it between your legs and beg him to fuck you, before you can do any of that, he's turning your grip around and taking your hands in his instead.
"You're getting ahead of yourself, baby", he chuckles, settling your hands against your thighs. He's painfully hard by now, yes- But that doesn't mean you can just drag him to where you want him. "Seems like you forgot your manners."
You're already shaking your head before he can finish. No, you haven't, you haven't, you just need him so badly... and you can feel him, you can feel that he needs you too, so why doesn't he just take you? Why doesn't he-
"I haven't, Jake, I promise", you whisper, looking at him and forcing yourself to still on his lap. It won't help you if you move. It definitely won't help you if you move.
"You haven't?", he asks with raised eyebrows, looking all but amused at you. You keep shaking your head no, no, no. "So if I'd told you to stay in your seat and wait, you would've?"
You bite down on the inside of your cheek and look away. He's grinning. He knows. He's not even really asking. But if you've learnt anything, anything at all about him, it's that he doesn't like to be ignored. If he asks a question, he wants it answered. So you'll answer.
"No", you breathe truthfully, because you most definitely wouldn't have managed a three hour car ride next to him. There's no way you would've managed a three hour car ride next to him. No fucking way.
His grin widens.
"No", he repeats lowly. "No, darling? You wouldn't have listened?"
"Couldn't", you correct, fighting the desire to rock against his thighs that's growing with every passing second. He looks so fucking good. He smells so fucking good. He feels so fucking good. And he'd fuck you so good, you know that, if he'd just finally get to it.
"Couldn't", he echoes, his fingertips rubbing circles onto the bare skin of your thighs. "That desperate."
It's just that he's that desperate, too. Desperate to feel you wrapped around him, desperate to hear you whimper and moan. He needs you as much as you need him.
"You want me to fuck you, baby?", he asks, all smooth and casual and your fingers dig into your thighs to feel something, anything. It's unbelievable how easily something so dirty slips off his lips.
"Yes", you gasp. "Want you so bad, Jake. Please. I'll be so good for you. I'll be perfect."
A muscle ticks in his jaw.
"You are perfect", he breathes, even though that hadn't been his plan at all. But he has to say it. He has to tell you. You've got him wrapped around your little finger, even if you don't know. And he's not all that sure you don't know anyway.
Your teeth catch on your lip, your hands dig harder into your skin and-
And Jake's thumbs trail along the inside of your bare thighs, brushing up naked skin, drawing a shallow breath from your tongue. A shiver runs down your spine as you clench your legs around his and force yourself to keep still. He's touching you. You have to remind yourself of that. He is touching you. There's no reason at all for the urge to defy him, to pop open his jeans and just sink down on him. He's touching you, he's touching you...
Yeah. Barely.
"Let me feel you", you beg, drawing your hands away from your thighs and trying to put them against his chest - but before you can, he's pulled his hands away from your thighs as well and grabbed your wrists. Again.
"You're not in charge here, darling", he chuckles, pushing your hands back down. He grabs for your waist again. "If you can't behave, I'm gonna put you back in the passenger seat and keep on driving, got that?"
You nod.
You want to be good for him. You will be good for him. God, there's no fucking way you could have managed the car ride already, and if you had to sit through it now, after this- No. You'll be good for him. You'll be so good for him.
He flashes you a grin and goes back to dragging his thumbs along your thighs.
"Ask nicely", he says. "Maybe I'll-"
"Please", you blurt out, your hips involuntarily bucking into his touch. "Can I kiss you?"
His eyes drop down to your mouth then.
"Yeah, baby", he mutters, his thumbs catching on the hem of your dress. "You can kiss me."
He expects you to jump at him, to slot your lips over his and lick into his mouth eagerly - but you only steady your palms carefully against his chest and lean in, your eyes focused on his, your breath meeting his skin. You kiss him softly, lightly, with your lips just so grazing his and your eyes fluttering shut. His fingertips run down the soaked spot on your panties.
That's when your teeth catch on his lip. You sink them into his skin gently and tug, your heart missing a beat as he groans into you. He hooks his fingers into your panties and pulls them to the side just like you'd hoped, just like you'd begged for.
Jake's right - you're not in charge. But that doesn't mean you don't know what buttons to push to get what you want.
His fingertips trail through your wetness for the first time in a whole fucking month. It's long overdue. So long.
You moan into him, pressing your chest right up against his and fisting his shirt, and push closer. You need to be this close. You need to be even closer. You need him to fuck you, now, not only to drag his fingers up to your clit.
But he's too focused on you, getting too drunk on the feeling of you. He's finally got you here again, finally on his lap again, finally kissing him again, finally eager for him again. He's finally touching you again. And he has to touch you.
You're so fucking wet. You're soaked. He wants to take his time to notice that. He needs to take his time to notice that. He needs to touch you, to feel you. He doesn't even mean to tease you. He doesn't even realise he is teasing you. Not until you rock into his hand and let a whine slip into his mouth.
You really don't intend to. It's an accident. You don't want to rush him. What you want is to be good for him. But you can't help yourself.
And he knows you can't.
Which is the only reason he doesn't pull back and leave you high and dry. Well, that - and his desperation to have you.
So instead, he pushes two fingers into you and catches the languid moan you let out. Fuck. You sound so sweet. You feel so perfect. It's been so fucking long.
"Jake", you whimper, just because it's also been that fucking long since you've whined his name into his mouth. Into the low-quality mic of your phone, yes. But with his lips on yours? With his fingers thrusting inside you so precisely, hitting the right spot immediately? No, that's been too fucking long.
It's dirty. Not quick, like the other times neither of you had been patient enough to look for a better spot to have each other and had opted for the car instead. No, it's just dirty, with his fingers pumping in and out of you, his tongue running along yours and your knees rubbing against the seat.
Maybe it's because the radio had turned off alongside the car, or maybe it's just the long month you'd spent apart - either way, all sounds are louder than they should be, your ears ringing with your moans, your wetness around his fingers and his lips against yours.
Goddamn.
He's working magic. You don't know how he hits the right spot again and again and again, his fingers curling, his thumb catching on your clit - but he has you clenching around him, warmth pooling in your core, wetness dripping down your thighs and onto his jeans within minutes.
You pull an inch away from him, your eyes still squeezed shut, your palms flattening against his shirt, and the only reason he knows he isn't just dreaming of you again is because you're warm and wet around his fingers. Everything else about you is unreal.
You're gorgeous. You're so damn stunning, rocking your hips back against him and moaning his name, your lips parted and your skin sweaty.
"Fuck", you pant, your chest rising and falling so tantalisingly that his eyes drop right down to your cleavage. "Just like that."
He has to grin to himself, but he lets it slide, if only because you're looking so pretty holding onto him as he pushes his fingers into you and circles your clit - just like that. Again and again, until you're digging your nails into his chest and catching your lip between your teeth and moaning his name, Jake, baby, fuck, fuck, fuck, until you're clenching around him and shuddering in his arms, until you're reaching your high not on your own, but on his fingers for the first time in four full weeks.
"Attagirl", he mutters, straining so hard against his pants that it hurts. "I've got you."
You press your lips against his jaw sloppily as you come down, your breath shallow, your skin burning, just needing to get your mouth on him. You can feel your heart beating, every thud, thud, thud against your chest. God. You hadn't come like that in a month. You'd come, sure, to the low rumble of his voice over the phone, calling you all sorts of sweet names and telling you just how to get off for him. But nothing could ever possibly beat the way he works you.
And still - even as you come down from your orgasm, you already crave the next, long and lust and hunger for him inside of you, not his fingers, but his cock.
"Jake", you mewl, slotting your lips over his and desperately dragging your tongue over them before you draw back an inch, your breath meeting his. "Fuck me? Please?"
He pulls his fingers out of you and raises his hand and before you can even really realise what you're doing, you're parting your lips and watching as he grins and presses his fingertips down on your tongue. God, he fucking tastes like you. You suck his fingers into your mouth obediently and lick them clean, looking at him out of lowered, half-lidded eyes and he fucking grabs at your waist with his other hand like his life depends on it.
Goddamn, it's been too long since he's watched this. Since he's had this sight in front of him. And holy mother of hell, what a sight that is.
Your cheeks hollowed out, your gaze caught on his, your lips wrapped around his fingers. His jeans are too tight. Too fucking tight. He needs relief. Now.
So he pulls his fingers out of your mouth with a low grunt and fumbles with the button of his jeans, quick and hurried. He's barely popped it open before your hands slip between his and push them out of the way. You drag down his zipper, reach into his briefs, finally, finally, finally! and he lets you, steadying his palms against your thighs and watching you tug your lip between your teeth.
"Condom", you breathe, then you glance up at him and blink - once, twice, thrice to get yourself back to reality. Condom. Condom, fuck, you're sure you've got one, you know you've got one, somewhere-
Jake takes his hand off your thigh and reaches for his pocket, pulling out a condom before you've even finished thinking.
You grab it from him almost reflexively, your fingers closing around it, tearing it open - quick and frenzied now, because you're not sure how much longer you can hold out. How much longer you can manage without having him.
You glance up at him before you roll it onto him, waiting, checking, if you can, if he'll let you- And how could he not? Fuck, he's got to clench his jaw and grab onto your waist just to hold back, to stay still. He hadn't meant for it to be like this. He'd meant to fuck you back at home, slow and steady, preferably in bed where he could really see you, where he could see every inch of you, not in the front seat of your car that he'd probably have to get cleaned tomorrow. But he can't fucking help himself. He can barely fucking wait until you've rolled the condom onto him, already grabbing at your bare thighs, slipping his hands below your dress, grasping at your stomach.
You steady your palms against his chest and breathe out a whine as his fingers slide across your boobs, pushing the fabric of your dress up, up, up, circling your nipples and damn, you've missed him. You've missed him so fucking much. It's been so fucking long. And you're so fucking desperate.
So you slowly sink down on him and let out a moan, rolling off of your tongue so filthily that he has to groan. Shit, shit- You hold yourself against him, drop your head against his shoulder and an open-mouthed kiss onto his skin.
"Fuck", he grunts, his fingers working frenzied circles onto your boobs, trying, desperately, no, needing to touch you, to feel you. God, you feel so good around him. Finally around him again. You take your time sinking down on him, catching your breath and pressing your lips against his neck, your eyes squeezed shut. Inch by inch, you take him - and the only way he can keep from bucking up into you is by trying not to concentrate on the way you feel around him (so, so fucking perfect), but instead do his best to breathe. Just... breathe. It's been too fucking long. And you're too fucking pretty. And he'll go fucking crazy.
"Jake", you mewl, your lips dragging against his jaw.
Instead of an answer, he turns his head and catches you in a kiss.
You whine into his mouth, your legs clamping around his, stilling as you adjust, your tongue running along his lips, his teeth, your hands fisting his shirt, clenching and cramping and pressing against his chest.
"Go on", he urges, pulling away no more than an inch, his breath shallow, mingling with yours. "Take what you want, darling."
"Fuck", you breathe, arching into his palms and steadying yourself against him, your teeth catching on your lip as you move - up, slowly, steadily, then down, faster, quicker, and again, and again. Holy hell. Moan after moan rolls off your tongue. He feels so fucking good. You're so fucking full of him. You find a rhythm, then that spot inside of you. Your head tilts back, your fingers clench into the collar of his shirt, your nails scratch against his skin.
He watches you, every inch of him tensing. You're gorgeous, so damn gorgeous, bouncing in his lap like this. You're stunning, your dress pooling around your hips as he drags his hands back down to your waist, thumbing at your stomach, circling and drawing against your skin. He's touching you. Now, here. It's not just a dream. It's not just his imagination. It's you, you, wrapped around him, moving up and down him, your palms against his chest, your eyes fluttered shut, your teeth digging into your lip.
"Just like that, keep going", he encourages, all low and deep, smooths his hands down your body and can't help but grin as you let out a soft mewl. It's been so long since he's heard you whine for him - so long since he's heard it without hundreds and hundres of miles between you, without the microphone ruining what have to be the sweetest sounds he's ever known. "Feeling good, baby?"
The air is heavy, heavy and sticky. It presses down on you, pushes against your skin, settles on your body and flattens your breath. Every single one of your nerve ends is on fire.
"Yes", you gasp, your eyes fluttering open to take him in, him in all of his very, very real glory right in front of you. He looks so handsome, so fucking handsome. Your thighs tighten, clench. You can feel yourself growing closer and closer and closer with every stroke, with every time you sink down on him. Fuck, he doesn't just feel good, he feels heavenly. He feels like everything you need. "So good, Jake."
The grin on his lips sends sparks through your body. It's confident, self-assured... Yeah, you're on top of him, you're moving, you're taking what you want - but he's in charge, you can see it in his eyes. He's in control. It's in the way he breathes, in the way his hands grab at your hips, in the way he palms at your skin. If it weren't for the red on his cheeks, for the sweat beading on his forehead, you wouldn't even have guessed he's all that affected. But he's hard, he's hard as a rock, and it's taking everything in him not to just buck up into you and come right on the spot.
He prides himself on his stamina. In all his years, he's always prided himself on his stamina - on how he can keep going long enough to make you come twice, thrice. And he'll hold out now, too.
But you're gorgeous. And you feel perfect. And you're close, you're clenching around him as you lean in to press your lips to his, to slot your mouths together and kiss him with all your might.
So you're not making it easy for him. Not at all.
He brushes his hand down to the inside of your thigh, leaves a trail of tingles on your skin before his finger finds your clit. You breathe out a whine that he easily catches on his tongue, your nails digging into his chest as he draws circles on your clit, on that sensitive bundle of nerves that has you melting, your eyes squeezing, squeezing, squeezing shut.
Fuck, fuck, you're close, you're close-
Just for a fleeting second, Jake debates pulling his hand away again and leaving you there, on this edge you're teetering on. Not forever, only until you'd got home or so. But he's too desperate to come, too wound up already, too close himself, and there's a much bigger part of him that wants to just fill you up in the driver's seat of your car, in this random parking lot, a month after he'd last had you. The part of him that will revel in knowing that you'll be sitting in the passenger seat for the next three hours with soaked panties, probably leaving behind a wet patch when you'll get out, the evidence of two orgasms right there-
"Fuck, Jake", you gasp and your head rolls back, your lips parting as your entire body clenches, every single muscle cramping and tightening at once, your nails digging hard and harder into his skin, your eyes squeezing shut. His finger on your clit doesn't still, just keeps drawing circles, keeps guiding you through your high, through the foggy haze you're swimming in as your body writhes and tingles.
Jake is too entranced, too enamoured, too captivated by you to even realise he's spilling inside the condom, coming as you do. He can't feel, can't see, can't touch anything but you - his hand grabs at your hip, it palms at your thigh. Anything to feel you. Anything to be with you as you unravel.
"Jake, fuck", you breathe, a lot more softly now. Your grip on him loosens. He'd barely noticed how your nails had still been digging into his chest, but now that you're pulling them away, stretching your fingers and steadying your palms flat against him, he can't help but miss them. You blink at him with the sweetest smile, your lips plush and kiss-swollen, and the view of you is so disarming that he can just so resist opening his mouth and letting those final three words roll off his tongue. But it's too early, it's way too early, even as you're sitting in his lap, even as you're squeezing his cock, even as he draws his finger away from your clit. He's never been the type to say it early. He won't now.
No, instead he raises his hand and rests his fingers against your lips. Once more today, you part them obediently and wait until he's pushed them onto your tongue. Then you close your mouth around them - he still tastes of you faintly - and suck, slathering them in saliva in that sloppy, messy, dirty way you know he likes, your head bobbing as you clean them off. You pull back just far enough to dig your teeth into his fingertips and bite down on them playfully.
Your lips tug into a grin as he draws his hand back, eyebrows raising, his gaze settling on you - still so very heavy, so intense, so fucking full of sex.
"You're a brat, darling", he chides, but he's already brushing strands of hair out of your face, tucking them behind your ears and then wrapping his arms around you to pull you even closer, even tighter to him. Your grin only grows as your fingers clench into the collar of his shirt.
"Maybe", you laugh breathily, leaning in and pressing a kiss to his lips, one that's so addicting he thinks he might need to stay in this car, in this parking lot for the rest of eternity. "But you love it."
Jake chuckles as he chases after your lips.
"Such a brat."
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gyeomsweetgyeom · 3 months ago
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[12:41 pm]
(cw: f!reader, a child, pregnancy complications, "Mommy" and "daddy")
"Mommy is tired?" dad!Jaehyun heard his little girl ask.
"A little bit, princess. The baby is getting bigger so Mommy just needs to lay down more, but she's not sleeping," Jaehyun explains in a sweet voice, pushing her unruly hair away from her face.
This was tough to explain to a 4 year old. Your first pregnancy had been a breeze compared to this one. Your first pregnancy almost five years ago came with some nausea that plagued you for the first few months, labor was long and arduous, but there was nothing that really hindered you from going about life as normal as possible. This pregnancy wasn't the same.
This time around you came down with gestational high blood pressure, which at your last appointment didn't look to be getting much better, so your doctor had put you on bed rest. You were doing your part by taking your medication daily and staying off your feet, but man was this a pain. You hated laying around and doing nothing, especially when your need to nest was nagging at you. You hated it, but you also knew that you wanted to avoid the induction being too early.
Jaehyun grabbed some food from the fridge and played it for you, lunch time. A healthy meal that he himself knew didn't sound super delicious, but he was being just as cautious as you were, if not more. "Let's take Mommy her lunch, princess," Jaehyun told his daughter.
She squealed excitedly, running to the bedroom with her Belle costume swishing around her legs. She pushed the door open and ran to the bed, climbing up onto the foot of the bed before settling beside you. Jaehyun smiled at the sight of his two girls. You were sat up against the headboard, folding laundry- which you had insisted on doing, Jaehyun didn't want you lifting a single finger, but you were stubborn.
"Lunch time, my love," Jaehyun smiled, walking over to you and handing you the plate. He tried not to laugh as your face scrunched up into a look of disappointment and smidge of disgust.
You stabbed the fork into the food and sighed before bringing the food to your mouth. If the bed rest worked, you'd be back on your feet in a week. Your doctor wanted to see if the bed rest would prove useful paired with the medication she'd put you on. You couldn't speak without the medical knowledge she'd possessed, but your blood pressure was going down and staying consistent. Your legs weren't as swollen and when Jaehyun took your blood pressure each morning it wasn't as high and remained consistent.
"I gave you your medication this morning right?" Jaehyun asked while holding up the pill bottle.
You hummed in agreement, swallowing your food, "as if you'd let me forget. I took it with a whole glass of water and ate it with my avocado toast. Hey, have you not been doing her hair? She looks like the brush hasn't touched her hair since I brushed it after her bath last night."
Jaehyun looked away, avoiding your gaze. Doing his daughter's hair wasn't a skill he had perfected yet. So yes, you were right, a brush hadn't touched her hair since last night. On the other hand, everything else had been taken care of. Your daughter didn't spend the whole day in her pajamas, she was dressed in real clothes, even if her Belle costume covered it up, she had brushed her teeth this morning, already eaten two meals today, and Jaehyun had her practice writing her name. On all levels, besides hair, he was killing it.
"Bring me the brush and some rubber bands please," you asked him sweetly, using your hand to tame the hair on the little girl's head.
He raised a brow, "finish your lunch and then I'll get you what you asked for."
You rolled your eyes, stabbing the fork into the food more harshly with a look that asked 'happy?' Your daughter turned her eyes away from the show on the TV and rubbed your belly, placing a small kiss on the apex. "Sister is making you tired, Mommy?" she asked, laying her head on your stomach.
You sighed tiredly, "yeah, princess. We don't want sister to get here too early so the doctor says I have to rest."
"But I want sister here already," she tells you with a pout.
Jaehyun takes the now empty plate from you while you brush your fingers gently brush through some of the tangles in her hair. "If the baby comes early, she won't be healthy, princess. We want her to be healthy right?"
"Yes," she sighs out, "Mommy, can you do my hair? Daddy doesn't know how."
Jaehyun rolls his eyes as he hands you the things you asked for, watches as his daughter willingly lets you comb the tangles from her hair gently, and watches as your fingers work deftly to braid it away from her face. He loves it.
He presses a kiss to your stomach, not trying very hard to keep the words that slip from his lips low and quiet, "if you want to give us a surprise and come out as a boy, that's fine. I'll still love you. Save me."
When two similar slaps to his arm come at the same time he can't help but laugh, if he's surrounded by girls that act like you and are the perfect mix of your genetics, he'd die a happy man.
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bywons · 6 months ago
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✶ A LITTLE HELP — SJY
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╰—— 𝗈𝗋 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗅𝗂𝗋𝗍𝗒 𝗇𝖾𝗂𝗀𝗁𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝗏𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄
( ✶🪽𝓢. ) 𝗌𝗂𝗆 𝗃𝖺𝖾𝗒𝗎𝗇 𝗑 𝖿!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 g. 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿, 𝗇𝖾𝗂𝗀𝗁𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌 𝗍𝗈 ? 1217 𝒘𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 contains ! 𝗌𝗎𝗀𝗀𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾 (?), 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉, 𝗇𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌 ✦ ◞ 𝒞 ATALOGUE?!
๑´ ³`) ノ pls leave feedbacks if u liked it ♡ REBLOG !!
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“i mean your abs are pretty impressive, pretty convenient for a washing board though.”
an offended, loud gasp from just beside you, makes you giggle. the cardboard boxes rustle against each other, a few of them being opened up to take out your newly ordered white vases, which your helpful neighbour skillfully places among the wooden shelves.
meanwhile, you wipe off the dust and rearrange the little trinkets on the white showcase, occasionally admiring your handsome neighbours’ work.
“when did you see my abs though, are you lying to me, ms y/n?”, jake scoffs, putting the last vase on the shelf.
you giggle, finishing off your work on the showcase, “i think you're forgetting that our apartment complex has a gym, mr jake,” you walk towards him, an unexpected rise in your heartbeat, “last week.”
“was i on the bench press?”, jake smirks, before catching his lower lip between his teeth and flicking it outside. you don't know what he's trying to do with all that, but he is sure to make your heart beat faster.
“treadmill”, you correct him.
the proximity between you and your striking neighbour increases by the windowsill, where both mild sun rays and inquisitive pairs of eyes can peek in, but it's something that doesn't bother you. after all, sim jake is only here to help you, just a helping hand for you when you've decided to clean and rearrange your apartment.
you don't know how the helping part is kept aside for now, confused at how jake is staring into your eyes, a hesitant but longing step closer to you. he should've been helping you with the bookshelf now, stacking in the new books to the according racks.
but right now he is busy igniting new feelings to your heart.
jake is too close for your own good, left hand threatening to close in around your waist and pull you into such a proximity he has only imagined. he could smear that pink lip gloss of yours now, his hand on you and his mind all dizzy, it would be a perfect weekend for him.
and as he's about to accomplish that, when you swiftly glide out of his imaginary hold on you and pick up the new books to be kept in place, breaking your poor neighbours’ heart.
“that's too much work for a pretty girl like you,” jake was fast, you have to give it to him, well not only in pace but also incredibly fast to make you squeal inside, “i'll take them from ‘ya.”
“you know i can do that myself”, you scoff, leaning against the bookshelf as he snatches the basket full of new books, arranging them.
“yes ma'am”, jake sings, pulling out another giggle from you while he pushes the new books between the old ones, “but i'd rather do it myself you know? wouldn't want your arms all tired.”
you had enough time, strength and leisure to stroll around your apartment and bedeck it, a change of scenario and colours for your eyes, a break from the dust collecting shelves eyeing you from their constant spot. you definitely didn't need another flirty neighbours’ help who could easily pull you into a scandal.
five months ago when you first moved in here, you didn't expect a cheeky, lovestruck neighbour, jake, to knock on your doors every weekend. and even if you're not willing to talk, his flirting skills would find his way to your smile anyway.
so jake became a regular face to witness, a regular voice to hear and a regular touch that you wished would linger for one more second.
“nosy neighbours”, jake reads out the title of the last book on his hand, “ouch, am i a nosy neighbour?”, a dramatic hand over his heart and a fake pout made you giggle harder.
“shut up jake”, you roll your eyes, hitting his arm.
“actually i'd like to borrow this book from ya”,
“you read books too?”, you tilt your head in confusion, an eyebrow raised at his request.
“are you surprised?”, jake giggles, taking a step closer to you as he secures the book in his hand.
“of course i am”, you let out a hearty laugh, hands flying up to your face to cover your flushed cheeks, “i thought all you do is flirt with women and lure them into your apartment”, you tease.
“that's not very nice, ms y/n,” and he goes back to his unnecessary honorific and a dangerous smirk tugging at his lips, making you swoon, “i’m hurt to know you think of me like that.”
jake leans in until he's face to face with you, his hot breath tickles your cheeks and makes them bloom from inside. he's at it again, his infamous grin while he stares you down, his rosy lips are too close to yours.
“the only woman i want to take home is you”, he whispers, pushing a strand of your hair behind your ears. his eyes wander about to face, to your eyes to lips to neck to your eyes again, “do they kiss in the book?”
“no spoilers”, you whisper back.
“fair enough”, jake scoffs, his lips hovering over the corner of yours as he pulls you in by your waist, until you have to create a barricade between you two by softly pressing your palms against his chest. but jake doesn't really gives you what you want, he teases you, grazing his lips over the corners of yours and pressing a light peck on your cheek before pulling back.
he leaves you blushing and stunned, which he likes and smiles at.
“o-ok now i have a lot of work,” you hurriedly grab jake’s hand and begin to drag him towards the door.
“aww are you shooing me away, y/n?”, jake whines, walking the few steps to the exit on his own, “i was just having fun!”
“i wasn't”, you bite your lips, suppressing in a chuckle as you look at him, standing on your threshold.
“oh? is that so?”, jake's eyes widens, he's loving this little act of yours.
as if you didn't turn butter under his touch just a few seconds ago.
“yeah! now off you go jake, i have a lot of things to do”, you try to send him off, lightly pushing on his chest and he's quick to grab your hand.
he brings it near his lips and kisses the inside of your wrist, looking up at you he says, “why don't you come over someday? return my favour maybe?”
all the blood in your body rushes up to your ears and cheeks and you stand still before him, not knowing what to do when you slowly retract your hand. he's intoxicating and he knows it, even if you don't visit him, jake already has an excuse to return his borrowed book to see your pretty face again. maybe you should give it a thought, give him a chance? after all, you can't deny the fact that he does make your heart beat faster.
you clear your throat, “i'll think about it.”
jake chuckles, “you better, ‘want to lure in my favourite pretty girl”, he winks at you, a final blow before he quickly pecks your cheek again, “9:30, i'll be waiting, gorgeous.”
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© bywons, 2024. do not copy, translate or upload any of my works without my permission.
📌:: TAGLIST IS OPEN ! nets. @/k-labels tags! @bambisite @leaderwon @dimplewonie @wonfilms @heartswonn @jwonistic @aaa-sia @ashtxrie @kgneptun @flwrstqr @haechansbbg @river-demon-slayer @in-somnias-world @teddywonss @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @mylstserenade @branchrkive @aishigrey @nctislifue @greyminyoon1 @ro-diaries @rikibun @sleepyxxhead @belowbun @belovedsthings @moond1or
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theonottsbxtch · 1 month ago
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THE OTHER GUY PT.6 | FC43
an: and we've reached the final part of the series! i hope you guys have enjoyed this as much as i have, it was very fun to write and i can't wait to write something soon :) remember my requests are always open!!
part one | part two | part three | part four | part five |
ynpiastri
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liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, landonorris and 30,382 others
spain, i'll miss you 🥲
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userone: spain yn was my fav yn
usertwo: is that franco? 👀
userthree: it's probably oscar or logan
oscarpiastri: i have an idea, i pay you to stay in spain for the rest of your life and you never come to the track again
logansargeant: i need her there, you're not a reliable source of gossip
ynpiastri: if you don't invite me, i have other ways of being there
userfour: franco? 👀
userfive: your honour i love them
lilyznimer: can't wait to see you again
ynpiastri: @/oscarpiastri HA SHE LOVES ME MORE THAN YOU 😹🫵😹🫵
usersix: yn, we're all here for franco confirmation. give it to us.
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francolapinto
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liked by alex_albon, williamsracing, ynpiastri and 985,352 others
back to work, i hate this country 🌧️
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alex_albon: next time take me to spain too
francolapinto: yes boss
userone: no yn confirmation ☹️☹️
williamsracing: franco...
francolapinto: no amount of media training will make me lie about this country
usertwo: where's yn?
userthree: we want to see FRANYN!
userfour: she's in his likes. im connecting dots.
userfive: stop being delusional, you ain't connecting shit.
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ynpiastri
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liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, francolapinto and 29,453 others
me when i remember that i actually have a big girl job and living off of oscar's money in his spare room isn't actually what i do with my life.
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userone: wife
usertwo: she has a job?? i thought she just went to gp's with oscar
ynpiastri: SHE has a masters in engineering design and technology 💅
userthree: cleared
oscarpiastri: move out please
ynpiastri: no 😁
userfour: still no franco
userfive: girl they both have full time jobs
usersix: MOTHERRRRR
logansargeant: you're a psycho for bringing your laptop to the beach btw
ynpiastri: i don't think i asked for your opinion, hope that helps lo! 😘
interview with franco colapinto
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ynpiastri
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liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, mclarenracing and 31,439 others
supporting my favourite mclaren driver (not oscar)
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userone: I WANT TO BE HER
usertwo: I WANT HER
oscarpiastri: funny joke
logansargeant: or is it..👀
userthree: imagine living her life
landonorris: i thought your favourite driver didn't race for mclaren [this comment has been deleted]
userfour: she's so pretty
userfive: still no sign of franyn
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francolaptino
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liked by williamsracing, alex_albon, ynpiastri and 924,235 others
the only women in my life btw (not that anyone asked)
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userone: oh😀
usertwo: i don't believe it
alex_albon: this guy
userthree: he's so unintentionally funny
williamsracing: how cute
imessage between logan and yn
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ynpiastri
argentina
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liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, francolapinto and 31,435 others
would rather date traffic cone (holiday dump coming soon x)
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offseason 2024
The golden Argentinan sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm, amber glow across the quiet, coastal villa. His family home sat nestled on the edge of a cliff, overlooking the endless blue stretch of sea. The scent of saltwater drifted in on the breeze, mingling with the fragrant citrus trees that lined the garden.
You and Franco sat on a cushioned wicker sofa in the sunroom, the wide-open windows framing the breathtaking view. The room had a rustic charm—whitewashed walls, terracotta tiles, and soft, earth-toned furniture. His arm was draped lazily around your shoulders, pulling you close as you both idly scrolled through your phones, the sounds of crashing waves and distant seagulls filling the peaceful silence.
But neither of you were really focused on the phones. The fan speculations and social media drama had become a background hum—amusing, but distant. For months now, you’d both kept this secret relationship hidden, playing the game of cat-and-mouse with the public, teasing and trolling them into thinking you were still enemies.
“Do they really still think I hate you?” you muttered, your lips curving into an incredulous smile as you glanced at a fan comment. “I’ve done too good a job convincing them.”
He chuckled, his voice low and smooth as he leaned in closer to peek at your screen. “Well, you have been pretty savage online. You didn’t hold back with that last post, hermosa.”
Your eyes flicked up to meet his, playful. “Says the guy who told the press I’d have to beg for a date. I never forgot that one.”
He grinned down at you, his light brown eyes twinkling with amusement. “I mean, to be fair, you did tweet that you wouldn’t date me if I were the last man on earth.”
You rolled your eyes, nudging him with your elbow. “Touché.”
His laughter faded, replaced by a softer, more thoughtful expression. His fingers tracing slow, absent-minded circles on your arm, and his gaze shifts from the ocean outside back to you. The silence stretched out between you for a moment, and you could feel the weight of what’s unspoken.
“We can’t keep this up forever, you know,” he finally said, his voice quieter now, more serious.
You paused for a second, his words catching you off guard. You’d grown so used to the secrecy, to sneaking around and playing up the rivalry for the fans. It had become a game, but now, here in the warmth of his family’s sunroom, with the sea breeze gently ruffling your hair, the reality of your relationship felt different. Realer. More solid.
You sat up a little straighter, turning to face him fully. “What are you saying?”
He met your eyes, his lips curling into a small, meaningful smile. “Maybe it’s time we tell everyone. Stop pretending.”
Your heart skipped a beat. The thought of going public, of finally letting the world see what’s been building between you, sent a thrill through you. But it was also terrifying. What would people say? How would the fans react? You’ve been holding onto this secret for so long, the thought of exposing it felt almost... vulnerable.
Still, as you sat there with him, in this secluded little bubble away from the world, the idea didn't seem so scary anymore. It felt exciting. Liberating.
A slow, playful grin spread across your face. “If we’re going to do this, we have to do it in the most ridiculous, out-of-pocket way possible.”
He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Like what?”
You leaned back against the sofa, the sunlight warming your skin as the wheels in your head begin to turn. “Something so cheesy and over-the-top that people won’t even know if we’re serious or still trolling them.”
His lips quirked into a smirk, rubbing his chin as if considering it. “What, like one of those cringey TikTok couple challenges?”
You nodded eagerly. “Exactly. The kind of stuff that makes people cringe, but they can’t look away.”
He let out a low chuckle, clearly warming up to the idea. “You mean the ones where people do those obnoxiously cute couple things, like finishing each other’s sentences?”
You grin. “Exactly. Go so hard that no one can tell if we’re serious.”
He leans forward, grabbing his phone from the coffee table. “I like it. Let’s do it.”
You blink, a little surprised at how quickly he’s jumping on board. “Wait, right now?”
He shrugs, that familiar mischievous glint in his eyes. “Why not? We’ve kept this quiet long enough. Let’s have some fun.”
Your pulse quickened with a mixture of excitement and nerves as you both adjusted your positions on the sofa, sitting up a little straighter, leaning in close to each other. His arm slid around your waist, pulling you just a little closer, and you could feel the warmth of his body against yours. The soft hum of the waves and the distant calls of seagulls faded into the background as the moment intensified.
“Alright,” you said, barely keeping a straight face, “let’s do this.”
He raised his phone, the camera pointed at both of you, and the screen lights up, casting a soft glow on your faces. “First question,” you began, doing your best over-the-top rom-com voice. “Who said ‘I love you’ first?”
He smirked, nudging you playfully. “Easy. You did.”
You gasped dramatically, placing a hand over your heart. “I did not! That was totally you.”
The playful banter flowed easily, the chemistry between you undeniable. The air between you crackled with tension, but the laughter kept things light. Each question grows sillier than the last, your teasing jabs masking the real emotions simmering beneath the surface.
As the game continued, the joking faded. The answers become more meaningful, more intimate. He reached out and takes your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles, and the teasing spark in his eyes shifted into something softer.
Then, as if the playful mood couldn’t hold any longer, he lowered his phone and set it down on the coffee table, turning to face you fully. His gaze was intense, his eyes locking with yours in the fading sunlight. “Maybe we should stop messing around and just... tell them.”
Your breath caught in your throat. “For real?”
He nodded, his voice a little quieter, a little rougher. “Yeah. I’m tired of hiding. I want people to know.”
You hesitated for a second, the weight of the official decision settling in. But then, a surge of boldness rose within you. “Okay. Let’s do it. But first—” You held up your phone, turning off notifications before tossing it onto the sofa. “I don’t want to deal with the chaos immediately.”
He chuckled, grabbing his phone, posting the video and then,following your lead and shutting off his phone. “Smart. We’ll get spammed for sure.”
Once the phones were off and forgotten, you exchanged a glance, and then both of you dissolved into laughter, the weight of secrecy lifting off your shoulders. The relief, the excitement—it was overwhelming in the best way.
As the laughter died down, the air between you shifted slightly, becoming heavier, charged with something far more intense than before. His eyes darkened as they traced the curve of your lips, and your breath hitches, feeling the pull between you like a magnetic force. Neither of you speak for a long moment, the silence thick with unspoken desire.
Without warning, he leaned in, his hand sliding up to cup the side of your face, his thumb brushing tenderly along your cheek. The touch sent a shiver down your spine, and your heart pounded in your chest, anticipation crackling in the air around you. He was so close now that you could feel the heat radiating off his skin, the scent of his cologne mixing with the salty sea air.
Your pulse quickened as his gaze locked with yours, and for a second, time seemed to stop. Then, he closed the gap, capturing your lips in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, yet filled with an undeniable hunger. His lips were soft but firm, moving against yours with a heat that left you breathless.
You responded immediately, your hands gripping the fabric of his shirt as you pulled him closer, needing more. His kiss deepened, and the intensity built. The taste of him is intoxicating, like you had both been waiting for this moment for far too long. His other hand snaked around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest, and you could feel the strength of his body against yours.
The kiss grew more urgent, your bodies pressed together as if the space between you was unbearable. His fingers threaded through your hair, holding you in place as he kissed you harder, deeper, like he couldn't get enough. You lost yourself in the sensation—the way his lips devoured yours, the heat of his breath mingling with yours, the low, barely audible groan that escaped from deep in his chest.
As you kissed him back with equal fervor, your entire body tingled, your senses overwhelmed by him—the way his hands gripped your waist, the way his lips tease and explore yours.
When he finally pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, both of you were panting, your hearts racing in sync. His eyes, dark and full of desire, met yours, and a slow, satisfied smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“Guess I can do that more often now,” he murmured, his voice husky and low.
You smiled back, your lips still tingling from the kiss. “With my brother in that same paddock? Not a chance?”
francolapinto and ynpiastri
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liked by logansargeant, schecoperez, oscarpiastri and 984,348 others
it wasn't a joke btw
*limited comments only*
williamsracing: franco...
oscarpiastri: that's my sister pal
francolaptino: oops?
logansargeant: this hurt more than my replacement
ynpiastri: shut up?
logansargeant: yes ma'am
the end.
taglist: @iimplicitt @isaadore @iamred-iamyellow @justheretoreadthxxs @obxstiles @how-what-why-huh @raizelchrysanderoctavius @sainzzreputaticn @xxx-betty @dukeofjjune @dejavuontrack @littlegrapejuice @mxdi0 @st4rgirl-ellie @dullypully @cinderellawithashoe
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pretty-little-mind33 · 9 days ago
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Logan Howlett x fem!reader
summary: Logan has fun punishing you ;)
warnings: hard kink (don't like, don't read!), kinda dub-con (maybe?), unprotected sex, humiliation, rough sex, degradation, mean!logan, dacryphilia, crying, slight dumbification, spanking, creampie
~ last kinktober!! happy halloween! ~
KINKTOBER MASTERLIST
You're a sobbing mess, face pressed against the couch cushions, your arm flailing around, clutching onto anything you can hold onto. Logan's back is pressed against yours, warm and hard, as he thrusts into you. He's feral like an animal and you can feel his cock stretch you painfully wide. 
"Lo–lo," you whimper, voice small, "Can't do this anymore," you sob, tasting the saltiness of your tears as your poor pussy is abused. Logan's hands fist your hair, pushing down as he grunts. 
"Can't take it, hm? Yes, you can. You're a slut remember. This is what you wanted, isn't it? This is what you fucking begged for when you were on your knees. Huh, you remember? Licking up my cock, staring up at me with those doe-eyes of yours," he pauses, growling, "What was it you said? You can handle it? Well, handle it then, honey."
You catch your breath, barely able to breathe as he fucks you hard. You're sobbing, unable to focus. Logan grins wolfishly, pulling you up by your hair as he leans in. His lips hit your ear and he whispers hoarsely, "We're gonna play a game now, can you do that for me?"
When you don't answer him he thrusts particularly hard.
"Yes, Logan, yes—" you whine, eyes blurry from your tears. You're staring at the wall now, trying your hardest to be good for him. His laugh in your ear makes you shiver. 
"I want you to count every thrust into your soaked pussy." You can hear his grin, "And if you miss one, I'll go even harder, do you understand me?"
You choke on a cry, not understanding why he's punishing you. You hadn't been that bratty. Logan just seems like he likes this; mocking you and making you squirm for him. He thrusts hard, hitting your cervix and you gasp. 
Apparently, the game had started because he slaps your ass. "One!" you cry, moaning loudly. You're slightly afraid your neighbors might hear you but Logan doesn't seem to care. He continues fucking into you, whispering dirty things in your ear and you struggle to count all his thrusts. He's so fast. His stamina is intense. 
"Four–ah–five, six, s-seven—"
"Louder. I want everyone to know how much of a slut you are." 
You cry, your body feels weak and you're happy he's holding you up because you couldn't do it yourself. Your mind goes hazy as you try and count. "thirteen, fourteen, ah—fifteen, s-sixteen—Logan—I- I can't," you sob, completely losing track and his thrusts become harder to the point that it's burning. You accept the pain, moaning louder. 
Logan's hand wraps around your jaw, groaning in your ear. "Filthy girl. Can't even listen. What am I gonna do with you? I have to teach you a lesson, huh? One your stupid little brain will understand." 
Your skin burns with embarrassment as tears prickle your eyes. His other hand roughly cups your breast and tortures your nipples. This is humiliating, being so powerless against him. You just cry softly, coming around him, body convulsing. You couldn't hold it anymore.
It just happened.  
Logan smirks. He doesn't care that you didn't ask for permission. After all, it gives him more ammunition. 
"Couldn't control yourself, honey?" 
You shake your head, tears streaming down onto his hand. He wipes his hand around your face, smearing your tears around and messing up your mascara. He chuckles.
"Please—t-too much."
Hearing your words, Logan grunts, spilling himself into your womb. He lets go, watching you fall forward again, and digs his nails into your hips. His thrusts slow, catching his breath and looking down at you. You're a complete mess; tears and snot coating your face as you lay there, completely used. Logan smirks to himself, pulling out and then plugging his cum inside you with his fingers. You whimper, too weak to squirm. 
"Keep it all in. Lose a drop and I'll make this worse for you," Logan says. The threat is empty considering he can see you're done. He's pushed you to your limit and you took it so well. Soothingly, he runs his other hand over your back. Once he's satisfied that you're keeping his cum inside, he walks over and caresses your cheek, truly wiping your tears away this time. 
"Shh," he says, kneeling next to you. You blink, eyes still hazy. He's still naked and he chuckles when you see your eyes wander downwards.
"Want more?" he teases.
You shake your head, whining. Logan laughs and kisses your head. "I know, honey. You're okay. You did so well for me," he says and strokes your hair. You sigh, relaxing in his arms as he praises you. You hum, needing more praise. Logan knows you do and he will happily oblige.
"Good girl," he whispers, kissing right next to your lips, smiling into your skin. 
You're always his good girl.
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lilghostiequinni · 3 months ago
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Your Married?
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Main Masterlist Lando Masterlist
Pairing: wife!female oc (Izara) x Lando Norris
Warnings: Fluffy, Established relationship, Pregnancy talk
Summary: Lando is one to have everything in the open, but that isn't the case when it comes to his wife, but he also isn't hiding that he's married, but the almost 8 years of marriage and the three, now five, kids, no one knew about.
Requested: NO / yes
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Lando wears jewelry outside of driving, but it isn't often that he wears his ring on his finger, mainly because it's just easier to wear it on a chain to not lose it when he inevitably has to take it off to drive.
But over the breaks, he wears it all the time.
So when he comes back from summer break, he hasn't quite moved it to the chain he always wears outside of the car, and a few fans see it.
But what really gets Lando shocked about people not knowing about his family is the number of drivers that actually brought this "rumor" to his attention.
So, for the next race, he walks in on Facetime with his wife.
Carlos is the first to Lando.
"You never answered after I told you about the rumor," Carlos told him, not seeing the phone in his hand.
"Because it's not a rumor. Baby, meet Carlos, Carlos, my wife, Izara," Lando shows Carlos the phone as he says the name of his wife.
From the screen, Carlos can see a woman waving at him from a hospital bed.
"What happened?" Carlos said as he waved back.
"She just gave birth to our fourth and fifth kids," Lando says it so calmly that Carlos almost thinks he's pranking him.
"Oh, Baby, I got to go. The nurse just came in. I'll Facetime you when we're done over here," Izara says as she blows a kiss to Lando, who does the same.
"Make sure our boys are there, please, I want to talk to them." Izara nods at Lando as they both hang up.
Carlos looks at Lando like he's grown seven more heads and is 20 feet tall.
"Why didn't I know about this?" Carlos questions as both start to walk toward the garages.
"I don't know, I've only talked about Izara like she hung the sun for years. Not my words about the sun thing," Lando told him, looking at Carlos.
"I know you've talked about her, but you never said you were dating, let alone married with kids."
They got to McLaren, and Carlos went to say something as Oscar passed to go in but was stopped by the older driver.
"Did you know Lando was married?" Carlos questioned him.
"No, I know he's with Izara," Oscar says, answering the question.
"Did you know he had kids?" Carlos asked.
"He has kids?" Oscar questioned.
"Yes, I have kids, five of them," Lando says to his teammate, looking up from his phone, which he was texting his wife.
"What?" Max questions as he passes to get to Red Bull.
"Yes, I'm married and have been for almost 8 years. Yes, I have kids, five of them. Two of them were born two days ago, so I would much rather be there than here. Anything else?"
Charles had joined as Lando started, and he was just as confused as the others.
George and Lewis came over when they seen the group, just standing around Lando.
Alex follows behind with Logan.
"You have babies? Newborn babies?" Charles questions after a moment of silence.
Lando just nods at his question.
"Yes, I want to get this race over to go them," Lando says.
"What?" George and Alex say at the same time.
"Alex, you knew about my wife and the twins." The other drivers turn to Alex, who smiles a bit nervously.
"Well, I did, but you didn't tell me, I found out through Lily. You know, your wife's best friend, my girlfriend."
"You still knew," George says.
"What do you mean? Carmen knows her, and Oscar's Lily and Alexandra know her. I think Kelly and Rebecca, too." Alex tells the group.
Lewis looks to all of them, then to Lando, "Congrats, man."
Lando nods at the older man in thanks before Lewis leaves, and Lando also leaves when he realizes all the other drivers are looking to Alex for answers about the bomb he dropped about their girlfriends, so he makes an escape to McLaren.
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A/N: This one is getting a Part 2, no matter what anyone says.
Tags: @poppyflower-22 @samantha-chicago @barcelonaloverf1life @tallrock35 @ellen3101 @llando4norris @mcmuppet @issi-loves-dannyric @1800-love-me @barcelonaloverf1life @hellothere9597
If you want to be removed from a tag list, let me know so I don't keep tagging you. If you are striked through, I don't know if you want to be tagged, but just let me know if you want me to continue or stop
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sunrizef1 · 8 months ago
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What happens in Vegas
Pt 2
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader, Max Verstappen x ex!reader A/N: tumblr was determined to mess me up while making this so if it’s wonky please tell me 🙏 Warnings: Cheating (not by reader)
Masterlist
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yourusername added to their story
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yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc maxverstappen and 1,008,989 others
yourusername Love in LV ❤️
tagged: maxverstappen
load comments…
user1 they’re so cute 😭
user2 god I’ve seen what you’ve done for others 🙏
maxverstappen ❤️
yourusername ❤️
user3 I’m feeling a y/n race win
user4 I ❤️ LV
user5 Red Bull 🔛🔝
redbullracing our favorite drivers! ❤️💙
liked by yourusername
user6 I’m still mad about Red Bull not letting her pass max last weekend 🙄
user7 she could have like 6 more wins this season if Red Bull didn’t protect max the way they do
user8 and the way Christian refuses to praise her over him in interviews rubs me the wrong way…
user9 100% favoritism
user10 they want to be praised for signing a woman and being inclusive but refuse to actually treat her the way they’d treat a male driver
user11 they treat her like a diversity signing because they think max is good enough to do everything for her when she’s literally top five on the grid 😭
user12 slay
landonorris ew
yourusername lonely
user13 she doesn’t deserve her seat
charles_leclerc 😁
yourusername 😁
user14 ready for another red bull win 🙃
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logansargeant
where u at
I want to go get dinner
yourusername
Ive just woke up like 15 mins ago
u wanna go nobu at Caesars?
I'm over near there rn with a couple people
logansargeant
yea lets do it
What time
yourusername
6 work?
logansargeant
yeah
let's gooooo
yourusername
I'm eating and then going back to sleep at the paddock, I'll drive u over if u want
logansargeant
😁
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charles_leclerc
who took this lmao
I assume it wasn't max
yourusername
fucking Logan lmao
charles_leclerc
Americans sticking together then? 😂
yourusername
Think he appreciated me giving him a tow at the start lmao
charles_leclerc
I appreciated it too 😅
yourusername
Your welcome haha 😂
Could've sworn I was towing max tho 🧐
charles_leclerc
lol
Ik how they get about you though
If anyone asks, you didn't mean to help me 🫡
yourusername
you get it lol
you going to the afterparty???
charles_leclerc
idk if I'm invited 🧐
it is your party anyway
yourusername
you're always invited
see you there Charlie
charles_leclerc
yes ma'am 🫡
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MESSAGES
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TWITTER
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MESSAGES
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2K notes · View notes