#testing my chew toys

[flowerygarrland]

I saw a youtube thumbnail i could've SWORN was Colm O'Driscoll but it wasn't so i drew him in the same pose to make it real [in my brain]

[emotionally-unstable-archimedes]

coo coo coo-coo coo coo coo coo-coo coo coo.

[what-do-you-taste-like]

this post tastes like green goo

"would you fuck your clone" = boring, who cares, the answer says nothing about you other than whether or not you're your own type

"would you fuck MY clone" = unexpected, high potential to cause a lot of 'why would you fuck my clone and not me?' drama, reasonable question to ask if you're a mad scientist

[sixeyesonathiel]

you should’ve read the damn contract.

but you were desperate. truly desperate. broke to your bones, barely scraping by on instant noodles and tap water. you had holes in your socks, a phone with a shattered screen, and a wallet so empty it echoed. the idea of splurging on a sex toy? laughable. you couldn’t even afford a second-hand toothbrush. so when the sign-up form for "assistant tester" promised fast money with zero qualifications, you didn’t hesitate. clicked agree. no reading. no questions.

and now?

you’re strapped to a glossy, too-clean chair in a sterile lab with your legs spread wide, bound in place. and between them, humming softly with unholy precision, is a goddamn vibrator from the future.

silver, contoured, sleek—latched in place by soft restraints, the head of it resting firm and perfectly angled against your clit. it’s warm from its internal thermal sync, fitted with pressure-reactive gel pads and frequency mapping. you hadn’t even known vibrators could do this. it’s more machine than toy. and you are its first test subject.

“no offense,” satoru drawls, voice impossibly casual as he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, “but you’re twitching like a virgin in a wind tunnel. and this is literally the lowest setting.”

he grins around the end of a candy stick he’s been chewing for the last ten minutes, bright blue eyes tracking the shivers running down your body. his lab coat hangs off one shoulder like he forgot it halfway through putting it on, and his black compression shirt clings tight to his lean frame beneath it. his pants ride low on his hips where he’s slouched, thighs spread, casual in posture but intent in gaze. the goggles meant for "serious" testing sit uselessly on his forehead, pushing back his mess of white hair, strands sticking out in static waves.

his eyes flicker with amusement, mouth quirking as he watches your body react, fascinated. “don’t tell me,” he says, spinning slightly in his chair with a nudge of his heel. “you’ve never used a toy before.”

you jerk when the vibrator pulses, and your breath shudders. your thighs tremble as you try to close your legs on instinct—only to be kept wide open by the straps. your brows knit, lips parting in a soundless gasp, skin flushed from your cheeks to your collarbones. “i... haven’t,” you admit, voice barely above a whisper.

satoru blinks. then brightens. “what? oh my god. you’re serious?”

his grin widens—vicious and delighted.

“holy shit, this is even better than i thought. you signed up for high-grade prototype testing and your poor little pussy’s never even met a toothbrush’s vibration mode?”

“satoru!” you cry, humiliated, squirming against the relentless buzz between your legs. your hips twitch with every pass, toes curling in their restraints, spine arching slightly as the pleasure sneaks up your nerves.

he laughs like this is the best thing that’s happened all week. “nah, this is so good. write that down,” he mock-mumbles, pretending to scribble on his tablet. “subject is hopelessly inexperienced. results? extremely promising.”

he rolls his stool closer, the wheels creaking as he leans in. his breath fans across your thigh. he moves with lazy confidence, legs spreading slightly wider, hands loosely folded over his knees.

“can you even tell what part is making you moan like that? is it the pulses? the heat setting? or is it just the fact that someone’s finally paying attention to that sad little clit of yours?”

your hands grip the armrests harder, knuckles white. your face twists with the effort to stay composed, but another whimper escapes, and your lashes flutter from the building sensation. every hum of the vibrator sends your hips bucking.

“stop staring,” you choke, voice breaking from the mix of shame and pleasure.

he snorts. “what, you shy now? sweetheart, you’re on my table, strapped open, soaking my tech. i’m doing you a favor.”

he flicks a finger against the side of the vibrator casually. it twitches in response.

you gasp, whole body jolting. your eyes fly open wide, lips quivering as your muscles lock up for a moment.

he watches your back arch, eyes sharp and entirely too smug. “god, that’s adorable. you really don’t know what to do with it. how long you been walking around with a cunt that’s never been spoiled?”

beep.

he taps the tablet.

the vibration intensifies.

your whole body jumps, a startled moan ripping from your throat. your eyes squeeze shut, face contorting as your chest heaves in shallow gasps.

“ohhhh yeah,” he says, eyes gleaming. “now that’s the sound i needed on record. keep goin’, princess.”

you shake your head furiously, tears pricking at your eyes. your shoulders twitch with every wave of stimulation. “satoru—i c-can’t—”

“you can,” he says, nudging your thigh with his foot. “that’s literally the point. now stop whining and let the tech do its job. unless you want to redo all the calibration logs.”

he leans forward suddenly, forearms on either side of your thighs. he’s close now, close enough that you can feel the heat of his body, the sharpness in his gaze as he watches you break apart. “you’re already crying and we haven’t even hit auto-rhythm. wanna see what happens when we let it pick the pattern it thinks you like best?”

“no—!”

beep.

too late.

he watches you twitch and writhe, cheeks flushed, lips trembling from overstimulation. your cunt is soaked. the toy hums louder. your jaw slackens as you pant, barely holding onto your sense of self.

“god,” he mutters, not even trying to hide the awe in his voice, “you’re gonna short-circuit the sensors with how wet you are. is this what happens when broke girls finally get some tech between their legs?”

you let out a strangled sound—half moan, half sob—as your body twists against the restraints, chest heaving in shallow bursts. your head tosses to the side, hair clinging damply to your temple, strands sticking from the sheen of sweat along your brow.

satoru tilts his head, one white brow arching lazily as if he’s genuinely puzzled. his lip tugs up in amusement, eyes gleaming with mischief under the fringe of silver bangs. “what’s wrong? you wanna stop?”

your voice breaks on a whisper, barely audible through your trembling breath. “yes,” you whimper, eyes glassy, lashes wet.

he flashes a grin—wide and obnoxiously bright, the corner of his mouth dimpling as he leans back on his stool, spine stretching in a casual roll like he’s just lounging at a bar, not orchestrating your unraveling. “too bad. you signed a full-cycle clause. twenty minutes minimum.”

his wrist lifts casually, tablet tilted toward him with a flick of his fingers. his thumb scrolls the screen like he’s checking a grocery list. “we’re only at seven.”

“satoru, please—” your voice cracks on the plea, lip quivering as your hips instinctively try to shy away from the overstimulation.

he doesn’t even blink. “oh now you’re begging. yeah, that’s goin’ in the notes.” he mutters it more to himself than you, tapping something in lazily, though his eyes never leave the way your body squirms.

his hand comes down slow, deliberate, resting lightly on your hipbone. the heat of his palm spreads through the thin fabric of the gown they’d given you, and his fingers flex slightly, just enough to feel the way your muscles tremble beneath his touch. you flinch—just barely—but he catches it, and his lashes lower in interest.

“try to keep your voice down, though,” he says, tapping your thigh twice like it’s nothing. “walls are thin. or don’t. up to you.”

then he leans back again, reclining just slightly in his seat, one knee bouncing idly, clipboard resting across it. the corner of his smile twitches as he watches your face twist again, eyes fluttering shut. “science is beautiful, huh?”

[shouyuus]

please i BEG you to do a part two of the college roommate!vi when she says “dont wake me up this early for breakfast unless you’re offering yourself” (or however it was said) but the reader decides to try and test it and stands in the most revealing pajamas (or even subtle lingerie) and is like “would you care for some breakfast?” and gestures to herself (or whatever you wanna write!!)

18+, mdni, college roommate!vi cinematic universe vague continuation of this drabble

"vi...? are you up?"

you push through her bedroom door, peering around it at the vaguely vi-shaped lump of pink hair and muscle splayed over messy sheets. she lets out a soft grunt, voice scratchy as she pushes up onto her elbows.

"yeah? what's up prin -- oh... shit..." her eyebrows shoot up as you link your hands behind your back, chewing on your bottom lip, eyes cutting away shyly as you rock on the balls of your feet.

and suddenly, vi is very much awake, because there you are, framed in her doorway in the most delectable pink and white lingerie set she's ever seen -- all delicate satin and tiny bows. she gulps, her mouth dry.

"what's all this, sweet girl?"

you tug at the hem of your nearly transparent babydoll as she groans, running a hand through her hair.

"uhm... i know it's early, but --" you worry at your bottom lip before glancing shyly up at her again, "remember that one time i woke you up and you said something like 'don't wake me up this early unless you're offering yourself for breakfast' or something like that?"

vi blinks at you for a solid three seconds before she slumps back into bed with a hoarse laugh, "holy shit -- oh my god -- i did say that, didn't i?"

"mhm..."

"so now..." she sits back up with a dopey grin, patting her mattress, "you're...?" she lets her voice trail off suggestively even as you shuffle forward to slip onto her narrow bed with her. she lets out a low, appreciative moan as she looks you over, her gaze dark and hungry; she doesn't bother hiding the way they linger over your semi-exposed tits or the way her throat bobs as she reaches out to pull you into her lap.

"happy... birthday?" you say, your voice breaking slightly as her palms slide up the smooth skin of your thighs, her fingers already toying with the thin straps of the tiny little thong that's little more than three silken pieces of string connected by identical pink bows.

"mm... oh yeah. that's today, isn't it?" she says, but her voice is distracted as she leans in to press a soft kiss to your collarbone. you gasp, letting your head tip back as she mouths at your skin, running reverent hands up to the bend of your waist, hoisting you up till you're straddling her hips proper.

"y-yeah... and i th-thought -- ah -- y-you --" you let out a pitched whine as she skims her teeth along your collarbones, grinning wolfishly up at you as you tangle your fingers in her hair.

"that you'd surprise me with breakfast in bed?" she asks, hissing as she rocks you down over her, rolling your hips into hers.

"s-something like that --" you breathe out, swallowing hard as she smiles and cradles you to her, touch soft even as she trails needy kisses up the length of your neck till she reaches your lips.

"fuck -- you're so hot -- jesus --" she murmurs, peppering you in open-mouthed kisses, pressing you back till you're pinned beneath her.

"mm -- ngh -- v-violet!"

"shit," vi swears, looking down at you from beneath hooded eyes, her lips parted and pink, her fingers rucking up the thin material of your babydoll so she can tug the thin string of your thong to the side to reveal your already slick folds.

you whimper as she leans down to trail her lips along your stomach, kissing down to hover her mouth over your cunt. she looks up at you and with a teasing smirk and a wink, running a finger through your wetness to tease at your throbbing clit.

"mm -- hell yeah -- happy fuckin' birthday to me," she says, before she lowers her mouth to you and parts you with her tongue.

[foldingfittedsheets]

The dog I think of as My Dog was picked up from the shelter when I was about 16 and he was six months old. He was a cattle dog mix, which at the time was really uncommon in our area.

We were only getting a dog because my mom was worried about home invaders which was a bit insane as we were out in the country and we’d left our German Shepherd down in Arizona with my dad for complicated reasons.

I turned the corner and saw him. Instant connection. He was curled up dozing, all blue and white freckles with red ears and feeties. His clipboard said “SLY” in huge red letters. I called it softly and he opened his eyes, ears perking. He roused to sleepily amble toward me, lick my fingers, then go lay back down.

My mom joined me in dismay, seeing the love dripping off of me. She hadn’t wanted a puppy but it was clear which dog we were going home with.

Sly was a monstrous puppy. Fans of cattle dogs will be unsurprised to learn he was exceedingly clever, mischievous and Bored a Lot. It turned out his name hadn’t been Sly. It was Billy. But I think we all know why a huge red warning had been applied to his kennel. We named him Sly anyway.

My mom doesn’t remember threatening in earnest to bring him back but it happened. Sly loved to chew. He had no interest in fetch or most toys but he adored chewing. I lost headphones, backpack straps, and pillows to his voracious teething. We tried to dissuade him. He just learned to chew when we weren’t looking. Then one day, clever but not smart, he set his teeth to a plugged in cord and electrocuted himself. He was fine, just really startled!

Thus ended the chewing, forever.

He wouldn’t even pick up toys. He was fully convinced having things in his mouth was only a matter of time before they turned on him. He’d run after a ball at dog parks, grab it in the euphoria of the chase, then immediately spit it out.

He was still a lot of dog and my moms rumblings about his poor behavior led me to join 4H with him. My friend Lia was in with her spaniels so I had an in. We did twice weekly training in obedience and showmanship.

That was it. Sly transformed into the best dog. From a bored unmanageable puppy he became a partner, ready to work on whatever we needed to work on. He learned buckets of commands, eager to please. Sit, down, wait, stand, front, back up, shake, roll, heel. The only thing we could never convince him to do was speak. His bark was reserved for Danger.

We went to compete in the county fair together, entering obedience trials and dog show portions.

The instructions are clearly stated before obedience testing. A dog must stay sitting for two minutes when told to stay, and three minutes for laying down. If our dog broke we were not supposed to speak to reissue commands, simply wait quietly.

It was us in a line with five other dogs. He passed the sitting part just fine. The down one was longer and a wretched golden retriever broke. But then his trainer pulled out a ball and started trying to redirect him with it. The other dogs watched with interest but stayed down. Sly started up. He desperately wanted to herd the golden back into place.

With elbows off the ground he froze, realizing his mistake. His head whipped to me. In silence, I swept my arm down in the nonverbal command for down. He dropped obediently and watched me fixedly for the rest of the time. I think he could feel my disappointment.

We failed.

But the judge came up to us afterward as I was petting him and said, “I was so impressed your dog knows nonverbal commands, and that other dog was so distracting! Let’s retest with the next batch.”

I was thrilled and Sly was steadfast, staring unblinkly at me for the full three minutes with utter determination. He won blue ribbons in obedience and got later best in breed since there was no other cattle dogs.

[what-do-you-taste-like]

this post tastes like sticks and stones

100 notes and i make a blog where i translate the bible to modern slang

[jungwnies]

f1 grid (1/2) | sharing the cookie

୨ৎ : featuring : max verstappen, lewis hamilton, george russell, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris, oscar piastri (click here for part two) ୨ৎ : synopsis (requested by anon) : your f1 boyfriend agrees to try the viral cookie challenge with your toddler… only to be hilariously betrayed (inspo: tiktok - click for reference)

୨ৎ : genre : comedy ୨ৎ : word count : 1792

୨ৎ masterlist ୨ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : this tiktok trend had me dying and then lawson and hadjar did it with their reserve driver im hollering T-T - also i am so so so sorry for missing my update for friday rip... but its okay ill be back on schedule fr (also the first part will now include lando and oscar because in part two i will be adding isack hadjar and liam lawson cus they were requested to be added and i just cant say no considering they are also on the grid >.<)

ʚ・max verstappen

"come on," you said, holding up the phone. "it's just a tiktok. she gets two cookies, you act like you didn’t get any, and we see if she shares.”

max crossed his arms. "she’s two. she doesn’t even share her toys with me."

"exactly," you grinned. "that’s why it’s funny."

he sighed dramatically. "fine. but if she betrays me, i’m eating both next time."

you set up the camera. max sat cross-legged on the living room floor, your daughter bouncing excitedly in front of him. you handed her two cookies. max? none.

"papa doesn’t get one?" she asked, blinking up at him.

max pouted like he was a contestant on survivor. "nope. they only gave you cookies."

she blinked again. looked at both cookies. looked at him.

and then.

she. ate. both.

BACK TO BACK.

max’s jaw dropped. "are you serious?!"

your daughter just licked the crumbs from her fingers and smiled. "yummy!"

you couldn’t stop laughing behind the camera.

max dramatically flopped back onto the carpet like he'd just lost a world championship.

"i gave her life. and she gave me nothing."

“she’s literally two,” you laughed.

"two ruthless," he corrected.

later that night, he snuck her another cookie while she sat in his lap, still chewing like she ran the place.

“you gonna share this one?” he asked hopefully.

she nodded, broke it in half… and gave both pieces to the dog.

max gasped. “this is targeted.”

you? filming from the corner, crying laughing.

ʚ・lewis hamilton

"just act like you don’t have any,” you whispered as you handed your daughter two cookies and lewis none.

he raised an eyebrow. "she always shares with me."

"alright then, let’s put that to the test," you grinned, hitting record.

lewis sat cross-legged on the rug, smiling softly at his daughter as she waddled over with a cookie in each tiny hand. she plopped down in front of him, cradling her cookies like they were ancient treasures.

“oh wow,” lewis said, peering at her plate. “they didn’t give me any…”

she blinked. then blinked again. the gears in her brain visibly turned.

and then—she took the biggest bite possible from one cookie, stared him down, and said through a full mouth, “that sucks.”

your hand flew to your mouth to keep from bursting out laughing. lewis sat there, stunned.

“did you just—”

she held up a tiny finger. “i need both. for balance.” (balance. you nearly dropped the phone.)

lewis tried not to laugh, but it cracked out of him anyway. “wow. that’s cold, little miss.”

“like you when i take your hoodie,” you chimed in from behind the camera.

“she’s my daughter alright,” lewis muttered, dramatically falling back into the pillows like he’d just been betrayed by his own bloodline. “i’m retiring from parenting,” lewis sighed.

ʚ・george russell

george was suspicious from the moment you handed him zero cookies.

“it’s a tiktok trend,” you whispered. “just pretend it’s normal. let’s see what he does.”

your son plopped down next to george, cradling his two little cookies like they were made of gold. he blinked at his dad. george gave him a soft smile and the most tragic sigh you’d ever heard.

“wow. i didn’t get one,” george said, all british melancholy. “guess i’ll just sit here… cookieless.”

his son looked at him.

then looked at the cookies.

then looked back at him.

and took a very slow bite, still holding eye contact.

george blinked. “right. okay. that’s… noted.”

he cleared his throat, visibly trying to stay composed. “are you sure you don’t want to share one with your dear father? the man who changes your nappies?”

another bite.

then your son tilted his head and said, “you can have one… if you say please.”

george’s jaw dropped. “are you—? i taught you that word!”

you had to cover your mouth to keep from snorting. george held his hand out, now looking genuinely betrayed.

“please,” he said slowly, dramatically. “may i have one cookie?”

your son stared at the remaining half of his cookie… and shoved it in his own mouth. then nodded. “you said please!”

george looked directly at the camera like he was on the office. “this is a test. i’m being tested.”

five minutes later, george was spotted making a second batch of cookies with your son sitting proudly on the counter beside him.

“because we believe in manners and equality in this household,” he muttered, flour on his shirt.

ʚ・carlos sainz

carlos sat on the rug as your daughter waddled in with two chocolate chip cookies and the world’s biggest smile. her curls bounced with every step, and carlos was already melting before the challenge even began.

“hola, princesa,” he cooed, arms out.

she plopped down next to him and immediately held both cookies to her chest.

“oh, you got two?” he asked, pretending to pout. “they didn’t give any to papa.”

your daughter paused.

she stared at the cookies.

then stared at him.

then without a single ounce of hesitation, she picked up the bigger cookie and gently placed it in carlos’ hand.

“here, papa,” she said sweetly. “you can have mine.”

carlos blinked. like, literally stunned into silence.

“you’re giving me this one?” he asked, glancing down at the cookie like it was made of diamonds. “but it’s the bigger one.”

she just nodded and leaned into his chest with the other cookie in her hand. “because i love you big.”

you gasped behind the camera.

carlos’s entire soul left his body. “ay dios mío. you’re going to make me cry on tiktok.”

he immediately scooped her into his lap and kissed her cheek a thousand times while she giggled into her cookie.

“te amo, mi corazón,” he whispered. “you’re the best part of my life.”

then he looked at the camera and pointed. “you owe her a bakery.”

ʚ・charles leclerc

charles was already sitting on the rug, legs crossed, smiling like he had no idea what was coming. (he did. you prepped him. but he was ready to be dramatic.)

when she walked over and sat down with her cookies, he gasped.

“they gave you two?!” he said, eyes wide. “and none for me?” he held his hands up like he was being robbed. “nothing? pas un seul?”

your daughter blinked, looked down at her plate… then back up at him. then she frowned.

“…that’s not fair,” she whispered, clearly distressed.

you could almost hear the little gears turning in her brain. she looked between the cookies like she was about to do intense mathematical calculations.

charles tilted his head, still acting sad. “it’s okay. you don’t have to share. i’ll just… starve.”

“papa,” she gasped. “no starving!” then — and this was the most leclerc moment — she picked up one cookie and broke it perfectly in half like it was a fine art.

she handed him one full cookie… and then added half of the other one.

“there,” she said seriously. “now you have un et demi.”

charles looked at the cookie halves in his hands like he’d just been gifted the crown jewels.

“you gave me more than one?” he asked, visibly moved. “are you sure?”

she nodded proudly. “because i’m smart.”

you nearly dropped the phone from trying not to wheeze.

charles pulled her into his lap and kissed the top of her head, murmuring, “you are so smart, mon amour. and kind. i will never forget this act of generosity.”

she grinned. “you owe me a cookie later.”

charles blinked. “…fair.”

ʚ・lando norris

“this is going to be so easy,” lando whispered as you handed his child two cookies and him none.

you raised a brow. “confident.”

he flashed you a grin. “they’re obsessed with me. i’m definitely getting one.”

you pressed record.

lando sat down on the floor, stretching his legs out, watching as your toddler toddled over like they were on a very serious cookie delivery mission. two chocolate chip cookies, one in each fist. determined eyes. crumbs already forming and not a bite had been taken.

“those look so good,” lando said, dramatically clutching his chest. “but… they didn’t give me any. that’s a bit sad, huh?”

your child blinked at him. looked at the cookies. then back at him.

then smiled.

“oh, dada,” they said sweetly, holding up one cookie… only to immediately lick it and take the tiniest nibble ever.

lando stared. “did you just—?”

they held out the now-slightly-soggy cookie. “you can have this one.” big proud grin.

lando, who would’ve accepted literal dirt from this kid, took it with wide eyes. “wow… thank you… so much.”

then, as he brought it to his mouth, they shrieked:

“WAIT! NOT THAT ONE! THAT WAS MINE!”

they snatched it back. both cookies now secured.

lando looked into the camera like he was betrayed by his own flesh and blood. “what just happened to me?”

you nearly dropped the phone from laughing. “you got hustled by a toddler.”

“she literally baited me,” he muttered. “i respect it.”

later, he brought out a secret third cookie from the kitchen.

your toddler gasped. “dada! where’d you get that?!”

he winked. “the real cookie challenge is knowing where we hide the backups.”

ʚ・oscar piastri

“i really don’t think they’ll give me one,” oscar whispered as you handed your toddler two cookies and him none.

you raised an eyebrow. “why?”

he shrugged. “they like sharing with you more. they say i’m too quiet.”

you stifled a laugh and hit record.

oscar sat down on the rug, legs folded neatly, as your toddler waddled over proudly — one cookie in each chubby hand, already taking careful little bites out of the edges.

“oh,” oscar said softly. “they gave you two cookies?”

his kid blinked, wide-eyed. “yeah!”

oscar smiled. “wow. i didn’t get any…”

there was a beat of silence. your toddler looked at their cookies. then at oscar.

then back at the cookies.

then very slowly, they scooted closer, placed one cookie in his lap… and gently patted his knee.

“you can have this one. because i love you and i don’t want you to feel sad.”

oscar literally froze. like system shut down. the only movement was the slow widening of his eyes.

“wait,” he whispered, “are you trying to make me cry?”

your toddler beamed. “don’t cry! eat!”

you had to hide behind the kitchen counter to keep from audibly sobbing.

oscar looked straight at the camera, voice half-choked. “i wasn’t emotionally prepared for this challenge.”

he reached over, pulled them gently into his lap, and kissed the top of their head. “you’re too good for this world.”

later, you found the uneaten cookie in the fridge with a note (scribbled by oscar) taped to it:

“for my favourite teammate.”

2021-2025 © jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate

[what-do-you-taste-like]

i may kill people over this

no see results option because you must have an opinion on this

[kxsagi]

it’s may first! ^^ can i request a fic with bllk characters having cuteness aggression for the reader? maybe with isagi, nagi, sae, rin, and others?

“𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧(‘𝐭) 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐭”

a/n: yesss i genuinely apologize if this came off as repetitive 😭

ft. isagi yoichi, nagi seishiro, itoshi sae, itoshi rin, mikage reo, bachira meguru, chigiri hyoma, karasu tabito, kaiser michael, ness alexis, shidou ryusei, niko ikki, hiori yo

isagi yoichi

it starts with him thinking he’s normal. 

he’s like “yeah my girlfriend’s cute” all smiley and in love… until you do something heinous like wear his oversized jersey with messy hair and rub your sleepy eyes. 

next thing you know, isagi’s clutching a pillow, jaw clenched like he’s trying not to explode. 

“you’re so–AHHHH–I’M GONNA LOSE IT I SWEAR ON MY SOUL.” 

grabs you and buries his face into your neck while yelling into it like you just scored a hat trick. 

“stop being so cute it’s pissing me off!!!” 

his form of cuteness aggression is hugging you like a koala until your lungs collapse. 

nagi seishiro

says “meh” but he is screaming internally. 

you do anything mildly adorable, like kiss his cheek and walk away humming, and he just freezes. buffering. overheating. 

“ugh. i wanna squeeze you like a mochi. until you pop or something.” 

gently squishes your cheeks like he’s testing the elasticity of his favorite plush toy. 

he actually doesn’t know what to do with himself when you wear his hoodie. he lies face-down on the couch whispering “i’m gonna bite her.” 

and he does. softly. to your shoulder. out of love. 

itoshi sae

looks calm. he is not calm. 

“you’re doing it again.” 

you blink innocently. “doing what?” 

“looking like that. with your stupid little smile and your stupid cute face and–i can’t deal with this right now.” 

threatens to punt a chair across the room while pinching your cheeks violently (but lovingly). 

he does bite. it’s controlled. calculated. usually on your arm or your hip. 

tells you with a deadpan expression, “you make me want to chew cardboard.” 

you laugh. he sulks. “stop giggling. you’re making it worse.” 

itoshi rin

thinks he’s above it until you do something sickeningly soft. 

like holding a stray cat with a baby voice. or smiling in your sleep. or calling him “rinnie” in public. 

his whole body glitches. twitching eye. twitching jaw. 

“i’m going to bite you. i’m not kidding. i feel violent.” 

stares at you like you’ve committed crimes against his sanity. 

grabs your face and grumbles about how you should “come with a warning label.” 

sulks under a blanket after. sends you a text from the same room: “why are you so cute. this is my 13th reason.”

mikage reo

shameless. will say out loud in a crowded room: “you’re literally too cute. i’m gonna slam dunk you into a pillow and never let you out.” 

squishes your cheeks like they’re made of mochi, buries you in kisses, threatens to bite your nose. 

you trip over something and he’s like “oh my gosh–AHHH–you’re so cute when you’re clumsy i hate you i love you.” 

tells nagi “if she keeps being adorable i’ll explode into confetti and die smiling.” 

kisses you mid-sentence just to cope. he can’t handle your laugh. 

bachira meguru

LITERALLY growls. like a chihuahua. 

“ghhhHHH, baby stop, STOP i can’t take it–WHY ARE YOU SMILING LIKE THAT–” 

full-on vibrating with aggression and adoration. 

grabs you like you’re a teddy bear and spins you around because he has too much cute energy and it needs to come out somehow. 

you could yawn and he’d be like “NOOOOO, stop being cute it HURTS.” 

considers biting your thigh like a goblin. asks permission first. 

chigiri hyoma

the most composed about it… at first. 

you’re used to his little hums of “so pretty” or “you’re adorable.” 

but then you do something extra cute. like falling asleep while waiting for him to get home. 

and he’s like “… i could throw you across the room and then kiss you after.” 

will actually growl into a pillow and blush like a cartoon character. 

mutters “you’re so cute it pisses me off” while braiding your hair or painting your nails. 

refuses to elaborate. you just get a glare and a forehead kiss. 

karasu tabito

he thinks he’s soooo smooth and composed but the moment you giggle at one of his dumb jokes? 

he’s gripping the back of his neck like, “nah, cause you did that on purpose. you want me to die. admit it.” 

covers his face with his hoodie, groaning dramatically. 

“you’re cute in a way that makes me want to scream into traffic.” 

when you pout at him? immediate jaw-clench. physical pain. 

aggressively kisses your forehead like he’s trying to exorcise the cute out of you. 

tells you he’s gonna put you in a glass box so no one else can witness your evil adorableness. 

kaiser michael

he's the definition of “i’m gonna bite you out of love.” 

he gets a twitch in his eye when you do literally anything. 

you say “i missed you” in your soft little voice and he short circuits like, “i could throw you out the window and catch you just to kiss you again.” 

“why are you like this. why are you soft and cute and… ugh!!” 

flops face-down on your lap groaning into your thighs like you’re ruining his life. 

you do your hair in braids and he loses it. grabs your face. threatens to bite your ear. 

“you make me wanna bark. it’s humiliating.” 

ness alexis

the king of “i love you but i also want to scream into a wall” energy. 

he just folds every time you do something small and sweet like reaching for his hand or laughing at his dorky jokes. 

his knees buckle. he makes little squeaky noises. 

“you don’t understand. i physically cannot take this much cuteness in one person.” 

face in his hands, peeking through his fingers like you’re the sun and he’s a fragile victorian child. 

mumbles into your shoulder: “you make me wanna scream into a jar and throw it into the ocean.” 

shidou ryusei

he literally bites. you’ll be cuddling and he’ll chomp your shoulder like a gremlin. 

“you’re cute. shut up. i hate it. i wanna fight god.” 

will squeak like an animal when you do something gentle, like fixing his hoodie strings or brushing hair out of his face. 

he rolls around on the bed kicking his feet like a toddler on pixy sticks when you call him “baby.” 

“GHHHHH you make me wanna chew drywall and scream.” 

will look at you smiling and just… headbutt your shoulder in defeat. 

shidou.exe has stopped working due to excessive adorability. 

niko ikki

blushes. scowls. mutters death threats at the wall. 

literally goes red when you call him “handsome” or hold his pinky. 

he tries to stay cool, but he ends up pacing the room whispering, “i wanna throw her off the couch and wrap her in a blanket burrito.” 

makes this tiny frustrated growl like he’s trying to hold back a feral squeal. 

when you do something REALLY adorable, like fall asleep with your cheek smushed against his chest, he stares at the ceiling like “god. give me strength. i will combust.” 

finally mutters a defeated, “you’re so freaking cute it’s making me ill.” 

hiori yo

hiori doesn’t mean to be dramatic… but you’re literally testing his limits as a human being. 

the way you hum while brushing your teeth. the way you squish his cheeks and say “my baby.” the way you fall asleep mid-movie with your mouth slightly open. 

he can’t handle it. 

he’s so soft spoken but suddenly he’s gripping a pillow like: “i can’t take it. i can’t–what am i supposed to do with this much cuteness???” 

bites his sleeve in emotional agony. physically restrains himself from aggressively snuggling you. 

mutters, “you make me want to scream into a cup and drink it.” 

tells you “stop it” while staring at you with hearts in his eyes. 

he’s like a cat that wants to be picked up and also wants to claw your face because he’s overwhelmed. 

when you kiss his forehead he just… shuts down. 

sits on the floor in a daze like, “i’m in love. i’m dying. help me.” 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[spearofheaven]

⋆˚࿔ CANDY SHOP — kamo, choso

SUM. horny and inexperienced, choso stumbles across a sex shop nearby. he didn’t expect his purchase of a toy would include more than stellar customer service.

CONTAINS. 18+ content, MDNI. 1.2k words. x fem reader. non canon compliant/au. smut. use of a toy. sorta kinda public. orgasm denial. sub choso. use of mistress.

A/N. couple months later and i still love pathetic men :p (last repost and i’ll stfu i swear)

“welcome to arousal zone.”

you stood behind the counter with a playboy magazine in hand, chewing cherry flavored gum while haphazardly flipping through a couple of the pages. anything that helped pass the slow shift faster.

working at a sex store on the outskirts of tokyo hadn’t been exactly what you’d wrote down on your five year plan—but it paid the bills. once you removed the occasional frat boy that stumbled in buying an anal plug as a gag, the job wasn’t too bad.

you looked over to see the pale man stepping foot into the store—immediately looking out of his element. he gawked at the selection available at the front like a zoo exhibit, staring at anything and everything that he could take in before making his way further into the shop.

choso roamed the halls of the store like a lost puppy—staring at all the different toys outlining the shelves. cock rings. fluffy handcuffs. pocket puss- choso nearly cracked his neck with how fast he did a double take, eagerly placing the box in his hands. he began reading through it, sticking it under his arm when he finished.

along with a waterproof vibrator. until he realized.. he had no idea how any of this shit worked.

“excuse me.” he walked up to the counter with the two items in tow, meeting your bored expression when you looked up from the magazine.

“do you have any tips for any toys… or how they work?” he rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish expression on his face upon asking the question. you raised a brow, leaning across the counter. not missing the way his gaze went down to your chest.

“well it usually depends on what you’re into, but i can give you a hands-on demonstration if you’d like.”

which is how you found yourself locked in the cramped fitting room, rubbing your palm across the stranger’s hardening cock. “lemme see the toys you picked out.” you snagged the boxes up before eyeing each piece, deciding to unbox the vibrator.

“so this one has four modes—each one more intense than the last,” you explained, your fingers tracing the outline of his cock. you looked up from the manual to see him gulp, a devilish smile appearing on your lips. “don’t worry, i’ll take care of you.”

you flipped the switch on, the wand vibrating in your hand, “though i gotta say, you’re desperate. letting me do this and i don’t even know your name.” his cock visibly twitched the moment you pressed the tip against the tent in his pants.

“d’ya want to know my name?” the man asked through shaky breaths, his chest starting to heave. he unzipped his pants, lowering them down to his thighs before speaking up again, his cock leaking onto the patch of hair going up his stomach.

before you had the chance to respond, he quickly spoke up, “choso, my name’s choso.”

“choso,” you tested the name on your tongue, a moan leaving his lips when you did. you slowly started to move the vibrator against his hard cock, watching the man grow even more and more sensitive.

“more,” he looked over at you with big, pleading eyes that almost made you want to agree.

“try that again,” you clicked your tongue, pulling the vibrator away completely. you dragged your manicured nail down his happy trail, pulling away before you reached the trimmed patch of hair at the base.

choso racked his brain as he tried to figure out what you wanted to hear, deciding to go with the next best option, “give me more, please. i’ll do whatever you want me to do, accept whatever. just give me more.”

“that’s it, there you go,” you placed the vibrator against his shaft yet again, moving to the second level of intensity. your hands moved down to his sac, holding them in your palm before starting to gently move them in your hold.

“ngh-fuck!” choso was reduced to a puddled mess, gripping onto the ends of the dressing room bench. you switched over to the last level without much of a warning, feeling his thighs quiver underneath you.

he tried—he really did. try to think of anything else other than the impending orgasm. thought about the wretched smell wafting off his brother’s back. thought about the questionable things he’d encountered during his late night wanks. but to no avail.

it was shameful how quickly just a couple of your words and the vibrator had him this close.

"lemme cum," choso whined, his cock twitching with every buzz of the vibrator that jolted against his shaft. drop after drop of precum fell onto your hand as he approached his climax, his balls growing heavy.

"i don't know, you were being a little impatient there, baby. we talked about this," you cooed, cruelly pulling the vibrator away just right before he had the chance to cum. a loud whine left his lips, bucking his hips to try to get any friction. to try to get anything.

“p-please mistress. make me c-cum, please,” choso’s voice cracked, quickly correcting his mistake. you pressed the vibrator two times, lowering the intensity before pressing it against his sensitive cock. rubbing his own pre with the wand like lube.

“see what happens when you ask nicely,” you mused, leaning in and pressing an open-mouthed kiss on the side of his neck that had him shivering. gently suctioning the skin between your lips, leaving him with a purple-red reminder of your time together. “but fine, i promised to take care of you after all.”

choso came within seconds of you increasing the vibration against him again, a pathetic and desperate moan leaving his lips, “right there, mistress. right there, please please don’t stop.” rope after rope of cum landed over his pants and thighs, a couple droplets managing to land on your fingers.

his eyes were locked on the way you stuck your pointer in between your lips, watching intently as you swirled your tongue around it to collect every drop. it had him wondering what you’d do to his cock if given enough time. “leave a couple seconds after,” you broke his fantasy, getting up from your spot and setting the vibrator down.

discreetly leaving the dressing room like it was all a dirty secret. and as the post nut clarity started to hit—hard (almost nearly as hard as him after that sinful imagery), he started to feel like a dirty secret.

choso took a couple seconds to gather his breath, pulling his pants up and stuffing the vibrator back in its box before making his way over to the register.

"come again soon," he didn’t miss your innuendo, scrambling to pick up his bag as soon as the receipt printed. he left the store with his cheeks slightly flushed and his zipper down, a couple white stains marking the black material of his jeans.

about as subtle as a bull in a china shop.

you turned to look at the next customer in line, a balding middle aged man with a gold ring sparkling on his finger, “can i help you?”

"can i get the same service that he got?"

[girl-of-many-fandoms]

Ruined

Pairing: König x Reader

Summary: You’ve been testing König’s patience all day with that smart mouth of yours and now he’s going to shut you up.

Warnings: Degradation, rough sex, manhandling, size kink, choking, overstimulation, impact play, dom/sub dynamics, brat behavior, safe word implied (but not used). If you’re not into being treated like a chew toy with a smart mouth, skip this one.

MASTERLIST

This is pure filth, I had an idea and ran with it. I absolutely had no intention to post this but I thought you all might enjoy this.

Do enjoy 😉

——————

I should’ve stopped at the first eye roll.

Should’ve quit while I was ahead—before the second sigh, before the words “Big man, small temper” left my lips.

But where’s the fun in behaving?

König doesn’t answer right away. Just tilts his head. Slow. Calculating. That goddamn mask making it impossible to read the full storm behind his eyes—but I feel it. Vibrating off him like the low growl of a beast just before it pounces.

“Repeat that,” he says quietly.

I flash him a smile that’s all teeth. “Did I stutter, König?”

My voice is sugar-sweet and laced with venom. “Or is the altitude messing with your hearing, tall boy?”

There’s a pause. A long one. Just long enough for my smug little high to settle. And then—

I’m airborne.

No warning. One second I’m mouthing off, the next I’m lifted off the floor like I weigh nothing, thrown down hard onto the bed with a thud that knocks the breath from my lungs.

“What the—!”

“You don’t speak to me like that,” König growls, climbing over me. His weight pins me down, a massive thigh forcing mine apart like I’m just a doll beneath him.

I squirm—purely out of defiance, not fear. “Gonna crush me with that giant ass of yours?”

He chuckles. Low. Dark. Dangerous.

“I haven’t even started yet, Schatz.”

His hands are everywhere—rough, calloused fingers around my throat, pinning both wrists above my head with one palm like I’m nothing. Like I could fight him and it wouldn’t matter. He lets me squirm. For the thrill of it.

“You wanted to be a brat?” he hisses in my ear. “Then you get disciplined like one.”

He drags my panties down in one tug, rips my shirt, doesn’t even bother with finesse—and then flips me over like he owns every inch of me.

I moan into the sheets as his hand comes down hard on my ass. Once. Twice. Again.

My skin’s on fire, and he likes it. The way I arch up. The hiss of pain that bleeds into a whimper.

“Color?” he demands. His voice is tight—barely holding it together.

“Green, you bastard,” I spit.

He grabs a fistful of my hair and pulls my head back just enough for his voice to drop like gravel into my ear.

“Good. Then shut the fuck up and take it.”

I can barely breathe—and that’s before he tightens the hand around my throat.

My legs are shaking, body already flushed from the spanks, skin stinging, but he hasn’t even fucked me yet. König’s just watching me in that slow, calculated way like he’s studying a weapon he plans to dismantle piece by piece.

“Still got something to say?” His thumb presses against my lower lip. “Or is the little brat ready to learn her place?”

I glare. Bite his thumb.

Wrong move.

He growls—deep and guttural—and I swear my cunt clenches just from the sound.

The next second, he’s shoving two thick fingers inside me without warning, pushing deep, curling them just right. I cry out, back arching off the bed as he pumps them mercilessly, other hand pinning my throat like a threat.

“Loud now, huh?” he huffs, voice hot behind his mask. “Where’s all that attitude?”

“F-fuck you—” I choke out, and his fingers curl harder. “You’re—shit—so cocky—”

He pulls his fingers out, flips me again like I’m nothing. My legs are open before I even have time to resist.

“You think this is cocky?” he snarls.

And then he slams into me.

No warning. No mercy.

I scream—literally scream—as he bottoms out, one hand gripping my hip, the other still around my throat. My body tries to recoil, but there’s nowhere to go—he’s too big, too deep, stretching me until I feel like I’m about to break in half.

“Is that brat mouth working now?” König hisses into my ear. “Or should I fuck you until you cry for me?”

I whimper.

God, it’s too much—the stretch, the pace, the weight of him crushing me into the mattress. His hips snap against mine with brutal precision, forcing my breath out in ragged moans.

“You wanted to act up,” he growls, pace unrelenting. “Now you’ll come when I say. You’ll scream for me—not because you want to—because I make you.”

My hands claw at the sheets. He pounds into me harder, dragging the orgasm out of me like he’s claiming it. I cry out, nails digging into the mattress as I shatter, legs spasming.

But König doesn’t stop.

He grabs my face, forces me to look up at him—eyes barely visible behind the shadow of his mask. I see the heat in them. The rage. The possessiveness.

“You think I’m finished?” he growls.

I try to speak—I don’t even know what I’m trying to say—but all that comes out is a sob. My body is overstimulated, twitching. My thighs clamp around him instinctively, trying to push him out.

He laughs.

Dark. Ruthless.

“You’re crying already? Oh, Schatz…” He leans down, nose brushing mine. “We’re just getting started.”

My legs are shaking—numb, barely responding.

I came already. Once? Twice? I don’t know anymore. Time’s slipped somewhere between the wet slap of his hips against mine and the pressure of his hand still curled loosely around my throat.

“Poor little thing,” König murmurs, voice lower now. Not soft—mocking. “Can’t even keep count. I’ve fucked the attitude right out of you.”

I try to protest, but it comes out as a broken, wet sound—half sob, half moan. My vision blurs, not from pain, but from the pleasure he keeps wringing out of me until I’m raw, wrecked, ruined.

“You asked for this,” he grunts, slamming into me again. “You wanted to run your mouth. You wanted to be tossed around like a rag doll.”

He grabs me by the back of the neck and pulls me up, bending me in half, forcing my spine to arch like I’m nothing but a toy in his hands. I’m caged by his body—his size, his weight, his cock hitting a spot so deep it punches a scream from my lungs.

“Look at you,” he growls into my ear. “Crying on my cock. Pretty tears for me, hmm?”

I whimper, tears streaking my cheeks now, head swimming.

“You love this,” he says, breath hot and ragged behind his mask. “You love being ruined like this. Tell me.”

I nod frantically, gasping, words barely forming. “Y-yes—fuck—I love it—I love it—”

He lets out a low sound. Like he’s satisfied. Like that was all he needed to hear before breaking me again.

“Good girl.”

That praise—it shatters something in me.

Because his pace changes. Rougher. Deeper. Less about punishment and more about claiming. His grip bruises into my hips, dragging me back onto his cock like I belong nowhere else.

I scream when I come again—loud, desperate, choking on it as my whole body goes tight, clenched, then completely undone.

My vision whites out.

My voice is a sob.

And he doesn’t fucking stop.

“You’re mine when you cry like this,” he snarls. “Mine when you’re shaking. Mine when you’re drooling into the sheets because your brain can’t fucking think.”

My arms collapse beneath me. My body isn’t working anymore. Just trembling, twitching, spent.

But I’m still moaning.

Still whining for him.

He leans over me, cock still buried to the hilt, hand sliding back around my throat as his voice drops to a deadly purr.

“You feel that?” he whispers. “That’s what happens when you mouth off. I break you… and you beg me for more.”

I nod weakly. Or maybe I just twitch—I don’t know.

But his cock throbs inside me, and I realize—

He hasn’t even come yet.

Oh no.

————-

I need to touch some grass after writing this 😭

[awhphooey]

jim armor test (alt versions and minor yap below)

just spent waaaay too long on this cause i was trying to work out the issues with my armor design for the au but at least it worked! there were some spots i needed to add or change the designs i originally had because they didnt make sense- most notably on his calves. his armor has a LOT of references to his friends so if you feel like going through and trying to pick them out just from this feel free, it will entertain me.

look at himmmmm im gonna shake him like a chew toy

[bunny-jpeg]

drive-away phone call

lewis hamilton

request: 107 + 7 with Lewis Hamilton as a rival. Reader took his phone and ran/drove off. Boomshakala yes gawd 107. “your ass is going to be seven different shades of red after that little stunt.” + 7. “you want me to give you your book/phone/item back? make me.”

tags: smut/pwp, rivals au, driver!reader, brattiness, spanking, teasing, dirty talk, cough sex & doggy style, hate sex, unprotected sex, pull out method

eros (the valentine's day collection)

ferrari were idiots. they wanted a king and a queen for their team. champions to secure them wins. hefty contracts were signed by you and lewis hamilton.

plucked from mclaren and mercedes, shedding the orange and the black then fitted in the fiery reds. it was a bright idea to the team. celebration was in order when the two of you happily signed the contracts. the issue was you and lewis had been bitter rivals for close to seven years.

the famous rumor was that mercedes retracted their contract they had for you because you and lewis verbally chewed each other out behind their headquarters when you were both there at the same time. you and lewis butted heads.

and very few things smoothed over with time in the world of f1.

lewis had been looking for his phone all morning, after first day of the pre-season testing he had been looking for it. he even went to mercedes side of the track to see if it grew legs and walked over there.

but of course, you had seen it.

"looking for this hamilton?" your voice was like a siren's song and when he looked over he saw you standing there in your team kit with one hand on your hip and the other dangling his phone like a toy, "you have to be careful with this, if someone managed to figure out the password. you'd be in a world of trouble."

he sharply exhaled and said, "and who would be able to guess the password." his attempt hold some confidence.

you made a smug face and said, "zero-six, forty-four...surprised you put nico's number first." and grew into a bright grin when the realization dawned on lewis, "don't worry, teammates are meant to keep secrets. but, if you want me to give you your phone back? make me." and then like a rabbit you sped off before lewis could process what you said.

and soon he was chasing after you.

laughter through the back hallways, it was teasing and embarrassing. but lewis had to admit, it turned him on. this brat of a driver who had been under his skin for nearly ten years! you both pushed and pulled each other.

when lewis finally caught you, he slammed you up against the door. the phone tumbled from your hand and onto the carpeted floor. he leaned in close, his dark eyes on yours. there was a fire in your gaze as you held onto his wrist while his fingers held your throat.

"you're a pain in my fucking side." he said.

"oh yeah, and you're saint lewis, patron saint of victory. you stole my twenty-nineteen victory." you said lowly.

"you're still holding onto that." he leaned in, "you said to not go easy on you. you didn't want weakness." he lips were dangerously close to yours, "you can't say one thing and want another. you wanted aggressive, i gave you aggressive."

you swallowed, he felt the muscles of your neck under his palm. you tried to hold your own as you said, "i was happy when verstappen whipped your ass the year after."

lewis chuckled and said, "maybe. but, your ass is going to be seven different shades of red after that little stunt.” and pulled you in for a tight kiss. seven years of back and forth crashed into each other. and the two of you were making out in a back hallway.

the kisses grew hotter and eventually you both tumbled into the room behind you. little time for much of anything, other than the door could lock. sneakers kicked off, lewis' expensive shirt was toss over the to the far corner of the room. the lights onto turned on because it was motion activated.

your hands roamed his chest, "hate to admit it, you look good with tattoos." you looked into his dark eyes, "congrats, i gave you a compliment."

he chuckled and his hand went to your ass for a moment. he gave it a squeeze, "i guess their fitting, just like my handprints on your ass." then went in for another heated kiss.

clothes shed and once your ass was bare, lewis slapped the skin. he pushed you over the couch, your breasts hit the back of it as you tumbled over it.

"hey!" you chirped, then moaned when lewis laid another slap across the soft skin.

he watched it bounce and chuckled, "i said i was going to leave it red. shouldn't have taken my phone. should have stopped acting like a brat. this all could've been solved easily, if i knew that deep down you just wanted me." he got up on the couch behind you and laid more slaps.

"i don't want you."

"your soaked pussy tells me something else." he rubbed his hard cock up against your slit, "you hate that you'll never be as good as me." his voice hot in your ear, "and that's alright, you look better under me anyway." his words pulled something in you and you arched your back a little bit. your behind grew bruised and hot with his attention. and when he sank into your pussy, you bit back any noises.

but lewis knew, he had a feeling for years now that this was some game of chicken. see who could edge the other off the track followed by who could break under the sexual tension between you two. a hand on your hip as he got himself inside of you. he swore under his breath.

he should have done this years ago.

the two of you fucked, it wasn't passionate love making like in the movies. it was hot and both of you had to fight off the urge to be too loud. last thing you wanted was to start of the season in a flurry of speculation and rumors.

you told yourself this would be a one time deal, but you had little faith in that notion. you were going to be in each other's space more often, not separated by team divides. you were both ferrari now, and your passion would be as red hot as the colour of your uniform.

lewis laid more slaps across you ass, it made you tense up around his cock which only fueled him to do it more. it was erotic, hot in a way that made left a fire in his core. he moved against you. he could feel the heat under his touch. everything felt like an inferno. like a wildfire that had been gaining momentum over a long period of time. he'd call it a slow burn, but it was more like a bomb with a long fuse.

"fuck you, hamilton." you groaned as you held onto the back of the couch tightly. you bit your tongue to keep from being too loud. you feared that you'd draw blood.

"already am. already am." he said, his tone a little softer, "now that i've got you all figured out, there's no need for such harsh words. you want me. and you're in luck, because i want you." the couch inched a little across the carpeted floor from the sheer force that he was fucking you with.

if anyone tried to get the door unlocked, it would be game over. your panties were off in some corner and neither of you had any intentions of slowing down the feverish sex until you both felt satisfied.

"you feel good." he said, "look good too."

"no need to soften me up, hamilton. you're already inside of me." you whined as the movements quickened, the pleasure continued to mount between the both of you. it was heavy, it was erotic. it was nasty.

two bitter rivals. either you were wheel to wheel or at each other's throat. every victory over the other was a tally mark added to a long list of grievances. lewis kissed the back of your neck, his hands groped at your breasts.

"are you sorry yet?"

"sorry?"

"yeah, for all the trouble you caused me. seven years is a long time." his pace quickened and it made you see stars. you let out a small gasp from the momentum of his movements.

you looked over your shoulder at him and spat, "in your dreams, hamilton." before you cheek was shoved into the back of the couch.

lewis chuckled, "maybe it'll come true when i win my eighth championship." you cursed under your breath, but lewis couldn't make out what you said. regardless he continued to fuck you.

you knew you wouldn't last much longer, you were moaning a little louder. the pleasure was a heated mess in your core. your back arched and you let out a sweet moan. your tone was a little louder than you hoped.

"fuck." he groaned.

you whined, "that's it, that's fucking it." your cunt clenched around his cock as you climaxed. you felt the heat across your skin as the two of you continued to move together. you hated that the sex between you two are magnetic and it left your mind numb from the intensity.

"you feel good. i think we're going to have a pretty good season. we should've done this years ago." he kissed at the side of your neck, "should've stole my phone sooner."

you moaned and felt the flutter in your chest. lewis continued his thrusts, his pace was punishing before he pulled out and finished across your back. you whine from the feeling of hot cum across your back.

"not taking any risks." he said, "can't have you retiring on me yet." he chuckled. the heat in the air was heavy and the smell of sex was noticeable.

you collected your thoughts and said with exhaustion in your tone, "going to help me clean up, hamilton. or stare at it until it dries?"

lewis could only laugh.

-

the next afternoon, you sat on top of some tires because sitting in a chair wasn't helping at that moment. pain still radiated from your back.

you noticed your older teammate walk by. there was a slight prep in lando's step as he approached you. he was whistling casually, which meant horrible news.

you sighed, "what do you want?" when he got close enough. he leaned against the stack of tires you were seated on. he leaned in close and beamed at you.

"heard someone is finally getting along their teammate."

your eyes went wide. you fake coughed into your hand and tried to play it off, "what the fuck, no! hate lewis' guts, it probably was max and charles, or you and carlos for all i know." you tried to point it back to him.

"aw c'mon, don't play stupid. the whole track heard you two." <3

[noonew1lleverask]

I’d Kiss You As the Lights Went Out

A drabble. You and Spencer proceeding in the most intimate act two people who love each other a sickening amount can engage in.

WC: 691

Slight smut.

You couldn’t catch your breath. Nothing about this was right, not even close. But the wrongness of it felt so good.

His lips trailed down your neck, pressing, mouthing, gnawing like you’re a dog’s favorite chew toy. He could be quite a nasty dog sometimes. But not tonight. Not these nights, when you both needed each other more than the oxygen filling your lungs, or, in this case, escaping it.

The drag of his hand down your waist had you mewling— sounds you didn’t know you were capable of producing escaped your throat like someone ripped them out of you, tossed into the air and caught by the skin of your teeth. His teeth, actually.

“Do you know— how beautiful you are?” Spencer mumbled into your skin, pressing so close you got the sense he wanted to bury himself there, just under your epidermis for the winter season. The cold weather raged outside, wind whipping against the windows, shaking the glass, snow piling up on the sill; though, none of it registered in your head. Your parietal lobe had shut off, or maybe it was the only lobe of your brain actively working, because all you could do was feel Spencer.

Nothing but Spencer— feel his hands and lips; smell his cologne and sweat; taste his skin and mouth; hear his groans and grunts that drove you wild in the dead of night when you should be asleep.

And then— there.

Right then, when you connected so intimately it was written in thousands of books— so many different ways to describe such a feeling, yet none would quite compare. You couldn’t put it into words, no matter how many times you thought through it and tested different vocabulary.

Good? No. Great? So mild in comparison to the blazing inferno that your body had been swept into.

Nails scratching down his back, leaving marks of pleasure you’d once seen him admire in your bathroom mirror riddled with sticky notes— you moaned, “Spencer! Feels—“

“I know,” he whispered, his mouth pressing to yours, begging this, begging for you so pathetically. As if you were any better. “I know, my darling. I— hah…”

Your bodies moved in a dance as old as time, but so new with each sequence you fell into— each step. It was as wonderful as the first time, when you both were all nerves and wrapped tightly in insecurities. Now, you whimpered and whined your praises to each other; a mess of sweaty, tangled limbs doused in the warm glow of your bedside lamp and the candles Spencer assured “heightened the romantic atmosphere”. He said he’d read it in a study, but you knew he was lying by that little grin he always got.

That little grin.

Gosh, you loved that little—

“I’m close.”

“Me, too,” you gasped.

When you both fell, it was astounding.

Yeah. Yeah! Astounding was a… good word to describe the entwining of your bodies.

His hips stuttered, your heels dug into his lower back, and you both were just piles of sounds of pleasure and delight and, in truth, pain. It pained you how… perfect he was, and how stupid you’d been before him. How stupid you’d been to not see such perfection, even if you didn’t believe in perfection, Spencer was as close as you’d get to something heavenly.

His body slowly sank onto yours, his weight heavy, but comforting. You rubbed his back soothingly as he pecked praises onto your cheeks and lips and eyes and nose and forehead and neck— any part of your body, really.

“Thank you,” he sighed.

Your hand paused, nails light against his nape. He shivered.

“For what?” You whispered.

“For letting me… love you.”

Your heart swelled and your eyes burned. You kissed his temple firmly, with an exaggerated smack that made him giggle on top of you, his curls tickling your chin.

“Please, never thank me for something I don’t deserve.”

He lifted his head, outrage— true outrage— evident in his features. His brows punched, his jaw hanging in disbelief. “That’s—“

You shut him up with a soft kiss, swallowing his protests with the slow, wet slide of your tongue against his. Pulling back, he chased your mouth, capturing two more kisses and a press of your noses together.

You smiled. “You don’t need to thank me for something I’m… far too happy having.”

He didn’t say anything. Just leaned in and kissed you again.

.

Thank you for reading<3