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wtfaniii · 5 months ago

Note

oneshot in-ho x reader whos a player not bc of debt but because she was investigating with gi-hun? in-ho falls in love w her and protects her during the games (he knew abt her as he had stalked gi hun and his team duh)

thank u🙏🏻

Just when I read this I had just uploaded a one-shot more or less with that theme of the researcher girl.

I love it, thanks for reading🤎

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3

Paparazzi

Summary: A private detective that Gi-hun had hired to investigate those games he participated in three years ago, is taken against her will without knowing that a certain man with power and money knew absolutely every detail about her.

Warnings: Just some harassment from this sexy man, violence and inappropriate language. Also, I made a modification to one of the games so that the reader could be with them

Note: Your wishes are my command! Orders will remain open and I will try to respond as soon as possible.

Her job was supposed to be just to do some research, collect names, dates and addresses, but fate had other things in store for she.

—Form lines to advance! It will be harder for the puppet to detect you that way —Gi-hun shouted to the players who were still alive after that massacre.

The girl was shaking uncontrollably. Unfortunately, she hadn't managed to get behind someone and now the doll was in her sights. Her hands didn't stop moving and clearly noticed how one of the weapons from heaven was pointing at her.

—Please... —She whispered shakily, yeah... maybe she was a coward but it's only because survival is not his specialty.

"Player 455" heard one of the guards through his communicator, he aimed directly at the head of the trembling girl but before pulling the trigger he heard the voice of his leader "Don't shoot, let her continue" and without protest he obeyed him order.

In a gilded room, with a huge screen in front of a single sofa and a small table next to it, rested the man who led and maintained order in these games.

Drinking a little more whiskey, In-ho kept his eyes on the screen and with the remote control he focused on player 455, the poor girl was terrified, it was not the first impression he expected from her after having read her entire file.

He had read that she was a great detective, top of her class, she was cunning, intelligent, and had a couple of master's degrees completed, but seeing her afraid of dying almost made him laugh.

It was amazing how being face to face with death changed people.

—Nobody shoot her —he added over the radio without taking his eyes off the screen.

He could see the girl's confusion at seeing thatwas still alive despite moving very slightly.

In-ho knew everything about her, he knew what she was weak on, her strengths, weaknesses, her way of operating, he even knew about that beloved cat she had in his childhood and died of old age.

He had taken the time and dedication to investigate even the smallest details about her, it was the least he could do after almost discovering his identity.

The detective was so close to discovering the entire empire of these games that he had to be her brought together with Gi-hun by force so as not to let her finish the task.

He twisted his lips as the whiskey vanished and the first game, green light, red light, was over.

He didn't want her dead, or at least not for now, until he knew a little more about her, one could almost say that she had the potential to be part of this if she weren't so correct.

He put on his mask and went to the control center.

[...]

Just as she thought, some players approached Gi-hun for advice for the next game, there were only those who believed in his words because some others called him a 'liar'.

Among them was player 001, whose name was claimed to be Young-il. He was no fool, he wouldn't say his real name without being sure how much information she had about all of this.

As night fell in the bedroom everyone was sleeping peacefully, except for the girl who was sitting in the middle of her bed playing with his pillowcase, folding it over and over again and then unfolding it and repeating the same act.

—Are you having trouble sleeping? –001 asked, approaching her, who shifted a little and made room on the bed for him to sit next to her.

—My head works better at night... —She murmured, looking at him and smiling friendly.

He looked down at her hands and how the moved on the pillowcase, her were precise and firm. —You know how to tie good knots.

She had many talents and In-ho knew them all.

Or well, almost all of them.

Her ability to tie excellent knots was developed by her father, who was captain of a fishing boat that she also sailed on from time to time.

They locked gazes again in silence. In-ho considered that long-distance photos were nothing compared to being face to face with her. For two years he had been investigating her, he had sent several guards to follow her closely for one reason only. At first considered her a threat. Her intelligence and curiosity could have unmasked him, but then he started following her out of routine.

Afterwards he just kept his gaze on her out of habit and finally he had her face to face.

—What's wrong? —She asked with a frown as noticed the intense gaze on his person.

—Nothing, you should rest, we must have energy for tomorrow's games.

When he was about to stand up and go to his respective bed but she stopped him by holding his hand. The girl, seeing his inappropriate act and with more confidence than she should have, quickly let him go. —Can we keep talking? Honestly... I'm too distressed to sleep right now.

—Of course...

The two continued to talk about trivial matters for a couple more hours, they tried to keep it low so as not to wake up the other players but every now and then they received an annoying 'shhh' from someone nearby who longed to be able to sleep peacefully.

Until she finally fell asleep with head resting on In-ho's shoulder, he didn't move, instead, he let her sleep and settled down so they could both rest better.

The next day, during the next game, they formed teams of six people.

Once they were all together, along with a pregnant woman named Jun-hee with the number 222, they sat on the floor as ordered and shared the games.

The activity was to play a series of games and each time they won they could advance, all this with their feet tied together.

It would be simple, each one was good at something and that made it easier for them to continue, they were the last players to participate which was good for the girl, so she wouldn't get nervous under the gaze of the other participants and as if heaven conspired in his favor one of the games was about making a rhombus with a rope.

—I did it! —She shouted euphorically showing the perfect rhombus in her hands made with rope and on the first try, the guard made a circle and the voice said "pass"

The others celebrated with her as they advanced, until now they achieved the games at the first opportunity and had plenty of time but when they reached the part where they had to spin a top on the ground Young-il lost his sanity after so many failed attempts.

As she bent down to pick up the top once more and wrap it in the string 001 began to curse and beat himself.

—What the hell is happening to me? I can't do anything right! I'm useless —She looked at him startled every time he hit himself, until she interrupted him by slapping on the left cheek, managing to silence him and making his head turn just a little.

In-ho's fake drama to scare them was going great until this sudden blow happened, he didn't expect it but there he was, looking at her with surprise and astonishment.

—You have to calm down! —She shouted, handing him the already finished top. —Try it again and if we die I swear I'll kill you.

He nodded and took the toy, she used those words to lighten the mood and try to give him confidence (which of course she did) but eyes don't lie and her gaze begged him to do it, she didn't want to die.

Miraculously he managed to spin the top and they moved on to the last game which Gi-hun was about to lose if it hadn't been for In-ho, although the last move was not correct he shouted "he did it" this being a small order camouflaged for the guard to give the affirmative signal.

They didn't know it but at that moment they would have died.

She was ignorant of this, she didn't know that if it weren't for In-ho she would already be dead since "green light, red light"

Unwittingly, In-ho saved her at every opportunity, protecting her life without realizing that perhaps following her had already become more than just a routine.

Little by little she got under him skin, first it was in his mind and now...

#in ho x reader #hwang inho x reader #hwang in ho #squid game x reader #squid game fic #in ho squidgame #squid game #frontamn x reader #squid game season 2 #Young-il x reader #lee byung hun

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itskegstand · 1 year ago

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i don’t know how the avian eldritch being technopathically connected to the world known as the duolingo bird has access to an animation crew but the super duolingo ads are sick as hell

#duolingo #like is it telepathically controlling people to do this?#or is it forming the animation using direct control of the leds in the screen with technopathy?#either way it goes hard

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bbokicidal · 3 months ago

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Loser In A Hot Body | SKZ [L.F]

Synopsis: Your boyfriend, Felix, is easily one of the most gorgeous men you've ever met on Earth. Well, the most gorgeous man to a lot of the people he's met. But, he's also... just a loser.

Genre: Mostly smut Pairing: Lee Felix x Afab!Reader Warnings: Virgin!Loser!Felix, Huge power dynamic going on, grinding/humping, oral (f & m receiving), and lots of cutesy loser gamerboy Felix content.

"Just one kiss?" Your head tips carefully to the side where you sit, cheek pressing against the pink fabric of the top you wore just to get him to look at you. It clearly wasn't working, given Felix hadn't batted an eye in your direction. Though he was sort of in his element; Tekken up on his PC screen, his fingers tapping rapidly at the LED keyboard he boasted about to every single one of his friends - with customized keycaps and pretty lights usually set to blue, he was set to go.

Felix's teeth sink into his lower lip as he focuses in on the game as much as he can. Even with his headset on, he has one of the muffs tugged over behind his ear instead so he could listen in case you called for him from elsewhere or maybe he got a phone call. He was a gamer but he was still considerate. "I'm... busy," He whispers out finally, voice just barely huffing through the two words in a gruff manner. "Give me ten minutes."

Your lips push into a teasing pout. "You said that fifteen minutes ago, Lixie." Your tone had turned into less of a sweet, innocent lilt and instead to begging. Your voice heightens but remains soft and cute towards your boyfriend who was just oh so busy and too occupied at the moment to lean over and give you one little kiss on your pretty pink lips; All glossed up and sparkly for him, too! "Please..?~"

Felix blinks a few times. They're rapid and it's as if he's trying to collect his thoughts just as his character is pummeled on screen. His fingers come to a halt and he stares with a slack jaw at the way the finisher places over his monitor. "..... Are you.. --" His voice, back to it's normal tone, is low and heavy with disbelief. He'd stopped clicking his keys for less than two seconds and he was already dead. "Aish," The word of distress escapes Felix's lips through grit teeth and in a heavy hiss, "I told you that I'm busy at the --"

With parted lips and his chair swiveling to face you, Felix stops. His hands rest so carefully against the arms of his seat while he takes in the sight of you dressed so cutely in front of him. The outfit looks like something you'd wear on a date with him, and here he was sitting in grey sweats and a black t-shirt that was nearly two sizes too big on him. Did he forget something today or had you just decided on a whim to dress so cute just for fun?

Felix's eyes dart over your shoulders, down to your waist, up to your face for just a moment, and then down. He stares at the way the top you wear dips so low in the chest and exposes a peek of the valley between your breasts. As soon as Felix's jaw shuts, he swallows. If there was on thing Felix was; It was extremely bad at hiding how he felt. Not that there was really a way of hiding the way he chuffed up in his sweats, anyhow.

And that was how you asking for a simple kiss turned into you blowing him under his gaming desk while he played Tekken with his old roommates. He isn't very reactive other than a few soft sounds here and there or a shudder of his hips when you take him into your throat; But you have to admit that the way he's so nonchalant about you sucking his cock while he games (and the fact that he allows it) is... kind of hot.

Felix was always kind enough to let you use anything of his to game if you asked for it. He would never hesitate before handing over his Switch or giving you a controller - even booting up his PC and setting up a game for you so you could have fun, too. He loved watching you game on his accounts even if you lowered his rank or failed miserably and trolled people in chats; But one thing he enjoyed even more was watching you while you gamed.

The expressions you made, the way you smiled or pouted or laughed at something that happened while you played. He adores getting to see you in his element - it's something he feels is special, especially when you aren't really one to game in your free time. Well, not until you met him. Sometimes, his view isn't the best because he's between your legs - but he still loves watching you!

"You have Ankha on your island?" Your thigh gently presses to the side of your boyfriend's head where he lay between your legs, tongue lathing over your clit in slow circles. Felix's hand gently comes up to press against your thigh, carefully and slowly pushing it away from his head to spread you wider for him. His tongue falls broad and he licks through your folds with a heavy breath fanning over your mound. "I knew you were a freak."

Your teasing giggles make Felix's cheeks flush red. Of course he was a freak; He was eating his girlfriend out on the couch while you sat there so pretty and played on his Switch - which turned him on way more than it should've. Don't get him wrong, he loves when you blow him or grind on his lap or suck hickies into his neck while he's the one gaming and trying to focus; But Felix loves when you game instead and let him do the work with his mouth. It's an instinct, now. He'll see you grab his switch or sit in his gaming chair and he's automatically getting on his knees, crawling closer to you so he can tug your panties aside under your skirt and suck on your clit like it's his favorite thing to do in the world. And it is, really; Aside from gaming, of course.

Even if you don't get off, Felix likes doing sexual things... casually, so he's more than happy to lazily eat you out while you play on his accounts. He won't ever admit it to you but he thinks about it when he jerks his cock any time he's alone and can't have you when he needs you. You gaming is the one thing he can imagine that is a surefire way for him to get off; Nothing else has ever worked so well.

Felix can't have sex with you.

Well... not.. intercourse, at least.

Because you say so.

No matter how many times you tell him how sexy he is or how hot he is to his face, he knows you won't let him slip it in when you two go to bed that night. It'll be all dry humping through his boxers, his cock straining against the fabric as he ruts his hips slowly against your ass, his arms wrapped tight around your middle to keep you flush against him. You'll moan and whimper out how nice it feels and he'll gasp into your ear about how badly he needs you, but he knows that he won't be getting any tonight.

It was a little confusing at first, but then he figured out that it's essentially power play. The first time he had thought you two would be going all the way, you giggled at his expression of desperation and called him a virgin while you pulled his pants down and let his cock hit his stomach. That night, he was so hard it hurt, his tip muddy and pink and leaking from the way you had been rubbing at him through his jeans and grinding on him for at least an hour. He'd blinked up at you in surprise, eyes wide and glossy as he fought with his thoughts to figure out just what to say. Had you just.. insulted him to his face during sex, or....?

"You've never fucked a girl before, right? You're such a loser you can't even get it in." You chuckle, hand brushing up his chest in admiration. HIs physique was phenomenal for someone who sat in a gaming chair at least four hours a day. Though, he did work out often, and though he wasn't jacked like a lot of other guys at the gym - he was definitely defined in more ways than one.

Felix's lashes flutter as his lips part. What does he say to that? "I've -- Yeah. Never..."

"Awe, poor baby. You want me to be your first?" You cooed, to which Felix immediately began to nod. He sat back when you coaxed him onto the bed, standing in front of him and what felt like towering over him as he stared up at you. "You want to fuck me, Lix?"

His eyes squeeze shut the next time he blinks. You were into this dynamic. Teasing him, calling him names, making fun of him for being a virgin. And he was, too. "Y -- Yes. Yes, I want to fuck you-!" He chokes out the words with a shy gasp, shoulders hunching up towards his cheeks where he sits. He can't even look you in the eyes anymore, gaze directed towards your abdomen instead.

"That's too bad."

His head snaps upwards. What? But you just -!

"See, Felix," You lean down a bit closer to the blonde and as your hand slides over his shoulder, he realizes just by the look on your face that you won't be letting him tap it for a while. "You're just... too much of a loser to fuck a girl like me. You're hot, and all, but.. you're just a gamer boy. And I definitely like that about you, don't get me wrong, it's just...." Your lips settle into a mock pout. "I don't know why I'd let such a perverted loser fuck me. You've gotta show me just how much you want it, and, you know, why you deserve it."

Felix's mouth waters. He's a little ashamed at the way he almost drools at your words. He has to prove his worth to you for you to let him fuck you - He has to show you why he's worth your time. HIs lips pop apart and he does drool, spit sliding down onto your thumb, and he stares as you lift your finger to your mouth and suck his spit away from your skin. His pupils blow wide at the sight of your lips molding around the tip of your thumb, the way your tongue licks over where he'd literally drooled on you.

And Felix never minded proving himself to you; He also understood that the power dynamic really only took place in the bedroom. While he truly was just a loser in a hot body, you two were equal as human beings and you didn't really think of yourself as better than him. It was just to tease, just to rile him up. Until you gave in from either desperation for him or you finally thought he was 'good enough' to fuck you - He'd just keep doing what he was good at. Which was.. gaming, eating you out, and being a good boy in the apartment like cleaning up and cooking for the two of you.

Though, Felix is a man. He's hot, a gamer, and a virgin; But he's still just a man. And he's impatient, and he gets riled up when you tease him so much and make him wait for it over and over and over. He hopes you'll let him show you just how good he can be for you soon, or - this loser might just show you how hot he can be and flip the dynamics around on you when you least expect it.

You might not be aware of it now, but Felix is sure in his mind that he could make you behave for him if he flipped the switch.

He just had to figure out when he wanted to do so.

Permanent Taglist :

@dwaekkicidal @possum-playground

@thatonedarkskinnedsiren @oc3anfloor @theyadorevalerie

@jeonginsleftcheek @pixie-felix

#skz x reader #skz imagine #stray kids x reader #skz smut #stray kids smut #felix x reader #Lee Felix smut #stray kids scenario #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #skz fic #stray kids fic #skz x you #skz x y/n #lee felix x reader

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eagerled · 2 years ago

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jungwnies · 4 months ago

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tamed - max verstappen (1/4)

୨ৎ : pairing : max verstappen x fem!reader ୨ৎ : synopsis : you're a top pr manager tasked with handling the infamous max verstappen, known for his fiery temper and controversial outbursts

୨ৎ : genre : romance, angst, humor ୨ৎ : tws : mild language, unserious bantering, suggestive humor, mentions of alcohol consumption. ୨ৎ : wc : 935

part one | part two | part three | part four | epilogue

You adjust your blazer, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles, and take a deep breath. Today's the day you finally meet Max Verstappen, your new and arguably most challenging client. As one of the top PR managers in the biz, you've handled prima donnas and hotheads before, but something tells you Verstappen is going to be a whole new level of difficult.

You stride into the Red Bull Racing headquarters, the polished floors and sleek design a stark contrast to the grit and grime of the racetrack. You're led to a sterile conference room, the air conditioning humming a monotonous tune. You settle into a chair, the leather cool against your skin, and pull out your meticulously crafted PR plan.

The door swings open abruptly, and in walks Max Verstappen. He's even more imposing in person than on screen. Tall, lean, with those intense blue eyes that seem to pierce right through you. He throws himself into a chair across from you, his expression a mix of boredom and irritation.

"So," he drawls, "you're the one they hired to babysit me."

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. "I'm your new PR manager, Max. I'm here to help you manage your public image."

He scoffs. "Like I need help with that."

"Everyone can use a little help," you say calmly, meeting his gaze. "Especially when you have a tendency to say whatever pops into your head."

His eyes narrow. "Are you saying I'm stupid?"

"Not at all," you reply smoothly. "I'm saying you're... impulsive. And sometimes, impulsivity can lead to... PR nightmares."

He leans back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips. "And you think you can control me?"

"Control you? No," you say with a slight smile. "But I can help you channel that energy, that passion, into something positive. Something that will make your fans love you even more."

He raises an eyebrow. "And what's in it for you?"

"A challenge," you admit. "And the satisfaction of knowing I helped tame the beast."

He lets out a short, harsh laugh. "Tame the beast, huh? Good luck with that."

You spend the next hour outlining your PR strategy. You talk about social media engagement, charitable partnerships, and even suggest some media training to help him handle those pesky interviews. He listens with a detached expression, occasionally interrupting with a sarcastic comment or a dismissive wave of his hand.

Just when you think you're making some headway, he drops a bombshell.

"Look," he says, leaning forward, "I appreciate the effort, but I'm not interested in changing who I am. I say what I think, I do what I want, and if people don't like it, that's their problem."

You take a deep breath, trying to maintain your composure. "Max, I understand that you value your authenticity, but—"

"Authenticity?" he interrupts, his voice rising. "You want authenticity? Fine. Here's some authenticity for you: I think this whole PR thing is a load of crap. I don't need you, or anyone else, to tell me how to behave."

He stands up abruptly, sending his chair scraping against the floor. "If that's all, I have a simulator session to get to."

He turns to leave, but you stop him. "Max, wait—"

He pauses, glancing back at you with an impatient frown.

"Just one thing," you say, holding his gaze. "You might not think you need me, but I'm here to stay. And sooner or later, you're going to realize that I'm not just some PR puppet. I'm here to help you, whether you like it or not."

He stares at you for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, a slow smile spreads across his face.

"You're feisty," he says, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "I'll give you that."

He turns to leave again, but just as he reaches the door, he pauses and looks back at you over his shoulder.

"Oh, and one more thing," he says, his voice low and husky. "Don't get any ideas. This is strictly professional."

And with that, he's gone, leaving you standing there with your heart pounding and a strange mix of frustration and anticipation swirling inside you.

You gather your things, a flicker of annoyance in your eyes. Max's arrogance is almost comical. He'll learn soon enough that you're not just some yes-man, here to stroke his ego. You're here to make him shine, whether he likes it or not.

As you exit the conference room, your footsteps echo in the hallway. You're about to head back to your temporary office when you hear voices drifting from a nearby room. It sounds like Max, his voice laced with that same dismissive tone he used with you.

Curiosity piqued, you slow down, your footsteps barely making a sound on the plush carpet.

"...told her I don't need some PR person breathing down my neck," Max is saying. "It's ridiculous. I know how to handle myself."

A chuckle from another voice, presumably one of his team members. "Yeah, well, good luck explaining that to Helmut after your last press conference."

More laughter.

"Seriously though," Max continues, "this whole thing is a joke. I'm not going to change who I am for some corporate sponsors or some uptight PR—"

He stops abruptly, and you hear the scrape of a chair. You realize you've been eavesdropping and quickly step away from the door, your heart pounding.

You continue down the hallway, your mind racing. So, Max thinks this whole thing is a joke, does he? He thinks you're just some "uptight PR person" who can't handle his "authenticity"?

You might not be able to change who he is, but you can certainly help him present a better version of himself to the world. And you're going to make him see that, even if it's the last thing you do.

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sunbeamlessreads · 16 days ago

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The Wager - Lando Norris x Reader One-Shot

❝ “Eyes on the track, Norris.” ❞

lando norris x reader

~3.6k words | rated: E

tw: 18+, explicit sexual content, dom/sub tension, semi-public style risk, overstimulation, orgasm control

he said he could handle five laps. you said he wouldn’t last two. there’s only one way to prove it.

notes: this is my apology for making lando such a douchebag in my last piece. went in with present tense again. i think it kinda works for the papaya boys, no? enjoy! <3

(i also admittedly didn't proofread this as much as usual so i apologize if it sucks.)

my masterlist

request guide

His sim room is dim except for the dull, shifting glow of LED lights tracing the walls, pulsing in sync with engine revs on Lando’s screen. He’s been here for at least an hour, maybe more, laser-focused—shoulders tense, jaw tight, hands gripping the wheel like he’s in an actual cockpit.

You’re in the doorway, leaning against the frame, wearing nothing but one of his hoodies. It hangs low, nearly brushing the tops of your thighs, soft and loose, the sleeves covering your hands. Your skin’s warm beneath it, and a little flushed—maybe from watching him so long, or maybe from what you’re planning.

He hasn’t noticed you yet. Not really. Just a distracted smile earlier when you brought him a drink. Since then? Silence. His attention’s been chained to the corners of a virtual Silverstone, chasing tenths of a second like they owe him something.

Your eyes trail over him now—the way his thighs flex slightly every time he shifts, the way his bottom lip tucks under his teeth when he brakes late. His headset’s pushed back around his neck, and a single bead of sweat slides from his temple to his jaw.

You step into the room without a word and let the door click shut behind you.

“Still trying to shave off that tenth?” you ask, voice syrup-smooth, laced with mischief.

He responds without looking.

“Not trying. Dialing it in.”

You smile. There’s the Lando you know—cocky, precise, addicted to speed and winning.

You drift closer, hips swaying just enough to be deliberate. You round his chair slowly, stopping just beside him, eyes locked on his screen like you’re playing innocent.

“Mm," you trail a finger across the edge of his steering wheel. “I wonder…”

“Wonder what?” he asks, flicking his eyes toward you briefly.

“If you’ve got more control out there—” you tap the glowing screen gently, “than in here.”

His brow lifts slightly. That got his attention.

You move behind him now, running your fingers across his shoulders, down his arms, mapping every muscle beneath the fabric. You lean forward, letting the warmth of your breath kiss the shell of his ear.

“I bet,” you whisper, “you can’t hold out for a whole race.”

That makes him pause. Really pause. His hand leaves the paddle mid-corner, and the engine whines as his car drifts off line.

“Hold out?” he echoes, voice thick with skepticism—and interest.

“Mmhm.” You glide your hands down his chest, over his stomach, featherlight. “I bet I can make you come in five laps.”

He laughs once, but it’s low and tense, like he’s trying to stay calm.

“Five?” he repeats, indignant. “You think you can break me in five?”

You press your body against the back of the chair, hips nudging the rig seat.

“No, baby. I know I can.”

He turns his head to look at you over his shoulder—mouth parted slightly, eyes dark now. He sizes you up like he’s about to take you apart with his hands and teeth.

“And if I make it through five?”

You slowly circle to face him, easing yourself onto his lap—one knee on either side of his hips. You don’t grind down yet, but you settle, letting him feel the heat of you through his joggers. You make sure he notices you’re not wearing anything underneath his sweatshirt.

You curl your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, tangling gently, pulling him just close enough that your lips brush his.

“If you make it through five,” you murmur, “you get me.”

A pause. Then you whisper the rest like a promise wrapped in sin.

“However. Wherever. Whenever.”

He exhales sharply, jaw clenching, hands still locked on the wheel because if he touches you now, he’ll ruin everything too early.

You reach down between you, slow and unhurried, palming him through his joggers. He’s already half-hard. The thrill of your challenge, the sound of your voice—he’s trying so hard not to show it.

“You’re on,” he mutters. “Five laps. Don’t go easy on me.”

You grin.

“Wasn’t planning to.”

And as he restarts the session, you start to move—just enough to make him twitch. Just enough to make him wonder how the hell he’s supposed to last.

Lap 1/5

The moment the race loads, you feel it—not just the hum of the sim coming to life, but the shift in Lando’s body beneath you. He squares his shoulders, tightens his grip on the wheel. His voice had been so sure a minute ago, all bravado and arrogance. But now?

Now he’s already working not to react.

You try to stay as out of the way of the screens as you can to at least give him a fighting chance.

Your thighs rest on either side of his, warm skin brushing against his joggers. His seat is snug, built for speed and pressure—not for having someone perched in his lap, slowly undoing him with the smallest touches. You feel him beneath you, hardening slowly, restrained only by thin fabric and sheer willpower.

And still, you don’t rush.

You breathe him in instead. He smells like clean sweat and fabric softener, like tension and heat and the lingering scent of cologne he probably applied this morning without thinking about how close you’d be later.

The first corner of the track comes and goes, and he nails it.

Good.

You want him calm. In control. Thinking he’s got this.

Your hands find his chest, fingertips dragging over the curve of his pecs, then lower, to the subtle ridges of his abs. Not pressing—just trailing. Ghosting. Enough to make his muscles twitch beneath your hands. Enough to make his breathing stutter, just once.

He exhales, shaky.

“That all you’ve got?” he mutters, not looking at you, trying to stay cocky.

You grin against his skin.

“Don’t worry. I’m just getting comfortable.”

You shift slightly—just enough to make sure he feels your bare heat press against him through the fabric. A gentle grind, one slow circle of your hips. His hands tighten on the wheel.

You press another kiss just below his ear. Then another, a little lower.

Your voice stays sweet, nearly innocent:

“How’s your sector time?”

“Shit,” he mutters.

You smile.

Your hips begin a slow rhythm—barely moving, but perfectly timed. Every time he shifts gears, you shift forward. When he straightens out for a straight, you rock back just a little. It’s not enough to drive him over the edge—not yet. But it’s enough to plant the idea. That pull. That ache.

And you can feel him growing harder under you, his body reacting even as he tries to stay stone-faced.

He keeps his eyes on the track. He thinks ignoring you will help.

You know better.

You start trailing your fingers under the hem of his shirt, this time tracing the edge of his ribs, featherlight. He twitches beneath your touch, his hips jerking upward once—reflex. He catches himself, swearing again.

You glance at the screen. One lap just passed halfway.

You lean in and whisper like it’s a secret.

“Four and a half to go, baby.”

He growls under his breath and tightens his grip again. But he doesn’t tell you to stop. You feel it—the way his hips lift an inch into you. Not consciously. Not controlled.

An instinct.

A slip.

You smile.

He wants to win.

You want to ruin him.

Lap 2/5

The moment he crosses the lap marker, you feel the change.

He exhales—just a little too sharp—like he’d been holding his breath since Turn 9. Like the first lap took more out of him than he’ll admit.

You don’t let him settle. You don’t let him recover.

You roll your hips forward again, just slightly more than before, then back. A little faster. A little firmer. His joggers provide friction now—barely a buffer between your heat and his restraint. His cock is hard beneath you, thick and twitching under the fabric, but he hasn’t moved. Not a single touch.

That’s okay.

You plan to do all the touching for him.

Your hands slide lower, sneaking beneath the hem of his shirt to find skin—warm, taut, twitching under your palms. You trail your fingers across his abs, then down, slow, until you’re just above his waistband.

You don’t go beneath.

Not yet.

Instead, you rest your hand there, light but suggestive, letting your thumb trace lazy circles against the band of his joggers.

He shifts in the seat, just barely.

“Eyes on the track, Norris.”

You murmur it against his jaw, then kiss just below his ear—barely touching. Just enough for him to feel it.

He grits his teeth. “You’re playing dirty.”

“You agreed to the rules.” Your tone stays breezy, but your hand doesn’t. “Not my fault if you’re losing already.”

You feel the rise of his chest under your palm—he’s breathing harder now, trying not to show it. His foot jolts slightly on the throttle. His car clips a curb. You hear the penalty chime—just a second’s warning—but it’s enough.

“Shit,” he mutters under his breath.

You laugh softly.

“What was that?”

He doesn’t answer.

So you keep going.

You shift your weight forward again and let your lips brush further against his ear.

“Want me to make it worse?”

Still nothing.

You grin—

Challenge accepted.

You lower yourself just enough that you’re flush against him again, your folds hot and slick against the barely-there barrier of his joggers. You rock once—firm, intentional. He groans, just barely, a sound caught in his throat.

Your voice is soft, almost cruel in its sweetness.

“Two laps in. I haven’t even touched your cock yet.”

You reach down, palm him through the fabric now, slow and deliberate. He bucks into your hand instinctively, and that’s the first time his focus slips completely. His car veers wide on a turn, and you hear the wheels screech as they kick up gravel.

“Concentrate,” you whisper, laughing gently against his skin.

“You’ve still got three laps left.”

His response is a low, broken sound that could be frustration or arousal—or both.

You press your mouth to his neck again, your hand still working him through the fabric, your body moving in that slow, taunting rhythm.

You feel him throb beneath your palm. He’s close already. You could push him now—finish this before the third lap even starts.

But you don’t.

Because you want him begging.

Lap 3/5

The moment he crosses the line into lap three, you feel the shift in him.

His thighs tense beneath yours. His arms strain on the wheel. The hard line of his cock is pressed firmly against you now, no longer just reactive—but aching. Desperate. His control is hanging by threads.

And you’re ready to cut every single one.

You rock forward again—this time with real intent. Not teasing. Not suggestive. Deliberate. Precise.

You grind against him with the rhythm of the engine’s growl, syncing your pace with the sharpness of each gear shift. Every time he accelerates, you move with it—hips rolling, breath hot, dragging friction over him that feels anything but accidental.

He makes a sound this time.

A real one.

A low, strangled curse punched out between clenched teeth as you slide your hands under his shirt again and let your nails drag across his stomach. His abs tighten beneath your touch, and you feel his hips twitch up once—seeking more, chasing it despite himself.

You smirk against his neck.

“Feel that, baby?” you murmur, lips brushing skin. “You’re practically pulsing.”

He growls. His voice is rough now, raw at the edges.

“You’re making it impossible to drive.”

“That’s the point.”

You move again—harder this time, a slow, grinding rhythm that drags your slick heat directly over his cock. You can feel him now—hot and thick and wanting more. The only thing separating you is a single layer of fabric.

You lean close to his ear, your voice velvet and wicked.

“Want me to ride you while you finish the lap?”

He groans—a real one, involuntary and half-broken—and his car jerks again on the screen. He recovers, but barely. His knuckles are white on the wheel. Sweat beads along his hairline. He’s silent now, like if he speaks he’ll give in.

You slide your hand down his chest again—slower this time. Taunting. You dip your fingers beneath his waistband now, finally—just a little. Just enough for him to feel your nails against bare skin.

He jerks. His hips buck up into you with force.

You don’t flinch.

You hold steady.

“Three laps,” you whisper. “You’re already fucking shaking.”

His voice is barely a rasp.

“You’re evil.”

You smile.

“You’re hard.”

Your hand brushes against the base of him, just once, and he twitches so violently the rig seat creaks. His breath catches like you’ve just punched the air out of him. His hips thrust up again, instinctual, and your body moves with his—grinding back down.

“Fuck,” he hisses.

You drag your tongue along his throat now, your hips meeting every unconscious thrust, letting his body tell you what his pride won’t.

And you’re so close to taking it.

To breaking him.

But not yet.

You press a kiss to his flushed cheek, then whisper sweetly in his ear:

“Still think you’ll make it through five?”

He doesn’t answer.

He can’t.

Lap 4/5.

You feel it—the way Lando’s whole body tenses underneath you. Not from the race. Not anymore.

Because he knows what’s coming.

Your hand is still wrapped around him, just beneath the waistband of his joggers, fingers teasing but never giving him enough. You feel him throbbing—full, flushed, leaking now. His cock twitches every time you shift your hips, even just slightly.

You look up at the screen.

His car is still on track, somehow. Barely.

You lean in, lips brushing his jaw.

“You made it through three,” you whisper, slow and mocking. “Good boy.”

His breath stutters. He swallows hard.

“But you’re not gonna make it through four.”

And then—before he can reply—you slide your hand fully inside.

You grip him, slow and firm, and pull him free from his joggers. He lets out a low, strangled moan, hips jerking up into your hand automatically. His cock is heavy, hot in your palm, already slick at the tip.

He grips the wheel tighter like it’s the only thing tethering him to Earth.

You shift forward, rising just slightly onto your knees. One hand holds him in place. The other guides your hoodie up, exposing the slick, desperate heat between your thighs.

You hover.

Just above him.

Just close enough that he can feel your warmth.

You hold him there.

“You still think you can last?” you ask, voice syrup-sweet.

He nods once—tight, desperate. “Yeah.”

You smile.

And sink down onto him in one slow, devastating slide.

He practically gasps. Chokes on it. His head drops back against the seat. His hands? They don’t move. He’s still gripping the wheel like it’s the only thing keeping him from coming right now.

You bottom out with a soft moan, intentionally dragging every inch of him into you. He’s so deep inside you it’s almost painful—in the best way. He throbs violently, twitching inside you.

You stay still for a moment. Let him feel it. Let him suffer in the tension.

“Lap four,” you breathe into his ear. “Let’s see what kind of endurance you really have.”

And then you start to move.

Slow at first—grinding against him in long, deep strokes, your thighs pressing against his, your core clenching around him just to watch his jaw go tight. He’s panting now, fully gone, biting back sounds that are barely human.

He shifts slightly in the seat and his hips jerk up once—uncontrolled, needy.

You don’t slow.

You ride him with purpose—steady rhythm, deliberate pace, perfectly timed to the corners he’s trying so hard to take cleanly.

Every time he tries to focus, you tighten around him. Every time he regains rhythm, you pull him deeper. You watch him unravel.

“How’s your lap time now, baby?” you purr, bouncing slightly harder. “Still think you’re gonna make it?”

He’s sweating. Trembling. You feel him gripping the wheel like if he lets go, he’ll lose everything.

“Fuck,” he grits out, barely audible.

You’re soaked, your thighs slick against his. Every time you sink down, the pressure builds, and you know he’s holding on by a single, fraying thread.

He turns to say something—but his voice fails him. Just a strangled moan.

You lean forward, mouth at his ear again, grinding your hips in tight, pulsing circles that make him jerk beneath you.

“One more lap to go,” you whisper. “You really think you can take it?”

He whimpers.

You smile.

Because you already know the answer.

Lap 5/5

The moment it flashes on screen, he stiffens beneath you like he might have a chance. Like he’s got just enough control left to make it to the line.

You smirk.

Good. Let him think that.

His hands are shaking on the wheel with how hard he’s gripping it behind you.

Not from adrenaline. Not from the track.

From you.

From the way you’re riding him like it’s your only mission—to destroy him one perfect roll of your hips at a time.

You plant your hands on his chest and start to move with intent—grinding deep, slow strokes that force him to feel every clench, every pull, every slick slide of your body swallowing him whole. His head drops back against the rig seat, jaw slack, mouth parted in a silent groan.

But he doesn’t let go.

His hands stay on the wheel.

His eyes flicker between the road and you. His knuckles are bone-white. Every muscle in his body is tight with restraint, as if his sheer willpower might keep him from tipping over the edge.

“You’re shaking,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You’re not going to make it.”

“I am.” The words barely scrape out of him.

You chuckle, slow and low, clenching around him mid-thrust. He bucks into you so hard the rig creaks, but his grip stays on the wheel.

You ride him harder now—hips slapping softly, slick heat dragging down his cock with perfect, punishing pressure. His entire body jolts with every downward roll of your hips.

“Tell me what you’re thinking about,” you whisper, lips brushing his ear.

He groans—deep and wrecked—and tries to focus. Tries to stay in it.

You press your forehead to his and grind in a slow, delicious circle.

“Not the track, is it?” you purr. “You’re thinking about how close you are. How good it would feel to just let go.”

“Fuck—” he gasps, hips jerking up against your rhythm. “No. No—I can finish—”

“You can’t.”

And you make sure of it.

You change your angle—just slightly. And he feels it. Buried even deeper. You clench around him again, dragging a desperate sound from his throat. His back arches against the seat.

He’s trembling. Fully. Visibly.

You slow your pace just enough to tease, your voice syrup-sweet against his cheek:

“I can feel it, baby. You’re right there.”

“I—I’m fine,” he lies.

You pick up speed.

His breath hits high and frantic now, his body jerking with every bounce, every squeeze of your thighs.

“You think you’ll last?” You move faster. “You think you’ll make it across the line without coming in me?”

He whines.

Actually whines.

You dig your nails into his chest, pull his head back, make him look at you. His pupils are blown, his lips pink and parted. He’s wrecked and still trying.

Still trying to win.

You grin.

And then you slam down once, hard, angled just right—and he breaks.

His whole body arches. A sharp, guttural moan tears from his throat as he spills inside you—deep and hot and uncontrollable.

His foot slips on the pedal. On screen, his car jerks wide, flies off the track.

DNF

You collapse into him, both of you panting. Your lips press to his jaw, soft now, breathless.

He’s trembling.

He doesn’t speak.

He can’t.

And you whisper, just for him:

“I told you.”

Lando’s head is tipped back against the seat, sweat-damp curls sticking to his forehead, breath coming in sharp, uneven pulls. His hands are finally off the wheel, one dangling limp at his side, the other gripping your thigh like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded.

He’s still inside you. Still pulsing from the aftershocks.

You shift your hips—just slightly—and he twitches, letting out a broken sound that’s half a whimper, half a curse.

“Fuck me,” he groans, voice ragged.

You lean forward, kiss the corner of his mouth—sweet, smug, slow.

“Oh, I did.”

His eyes snap open.

There’s fire there still—under the wreckage. Under the loss. The glint of a man who isn’t done, even when he’s spent.

He reaches up and cups the back of your neck, dragging you down into a kiss that’s too deep for someone that wrecked. Desperate. Tongue and teeth and the bite of someone who’s not ready to admit defeat.

When he pulls back, his lips are slick, his eyes heavy-lidded but sharp.

“Just because I lost,” he murmurs, “doesn’t mean I don’t get to take you… whenever. However.”

Your breath catches.

He grins—slow and dark, still breathless but already hardening again beneath you.

“That was only round one.”

You blink, caught off-guard by the shift in him—the way he’s already coming back to life beneath your thighs.

“Already?” you whisper.

“You said I couldn’t last five laps.” He grabs your hips, guiding you down again, grinding into the mess between you. “Let’s see how many rounds you can take.”

Your eyes flutter.

He’s not asking this time.

And just like that, the game starts over.

notes: i really hope it isn't terrible and makes sense lol. i wanted to get this one out quickly, especially after his sprint win yesterday.

taglist: @literallysza @piceous21

IF YOU’D LIKE TO BE ADDED TO A TAGLIST FOR ALL OF MY FUTURE F1 FICS, COMMENT BELOW

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koosluvss · 10 months ago

Text

“Say it” - jjk fic

—“Look how good we’d be together ____, we look so fuckin’ good together hmm? Say it baby..”

you always looks forward to having date night with your boyfriend Yejoon. You guys have been together for a little over and year and after him being so busy with work he finally takes you on a date. You’ve been spending most of your time with Jungkook, your best friend. Never in your whole life would you have ever thought that you’d be sitting at a table with your boyfriend while your best friends cum drips down your leg.

pairing :: bsf,jk!! + fem-oc!!

genre :: smut ‼️ (little angst if you really think about it when someone confesses 🤫)

wc :: 3.2k

warnings :: cheating oc!! lying, sorta public sex (?) confession, cursing, not choking but hand wrapped around throat, boob play, oral sex (f receiving) protected sex! (birth control), cumming inside ☺️

hello everyone! this is just a random story I wrote that I wanted to post on here. I hope you guys enjoy it and if you have any ask’s please feel free to ask me!

𖧐𐮚~~~~~~~~~~~~~~𖧐𐮚~~~~~~•

“Jungkook for the last fucking time I am not about to ditch Yejoon just to hang out with you” I said to the phone that is sitting on the edge of my vanity as I do some finishing touches to my makeup

“Come on ____! You know you wanna see me right now” I heard him say from the other side of the phone, his smile clearly being heard in his voice. I rolled my eyes and picked up the phone so that I could check if my boyfriend had texted me about our date

“I have to leave my house soon, Yejoon gonna pick me up in a bit” I said before tapping the facetime screen and seeing Jungkook look at me through the screen with a small pout on his face. “Get rid of the pout Jeon” I said and he rolled his eyes at me

“Pleasee ____? I haven’t seen you in so long” He said in his whiny tone, I shook my head at him before getting up from my vanity chair and picking up a pair of my black heels that will go with the black dress that I am wearing

“I have to go Jungkook, we can hang out some other day. Byee!” I said giving him a small wave before I hung up the call. I put on the heels that I chose out and I looked at myself through the body mirror that I have in my bathroom. As soon as I left the bathroom I heard a soft knock on my apartment door. I swung the door open and I was greeted with the sight of my boyfriend

“Hi baby” he said as a soft smile was placed upon his lips before he held out a bouquet of flowers for me. I quickly grabbed them and gave him a hug and placed a small kiss on his lips.

“I missed you” I said as my own smile started to form on my lips as I saw him look me up and down. He placed a hand on my hip before he led me out of my apartment and towards his car.

“You look so pretty tonight, I love this dress on you” I heard him say as he opened his car door for me like the gentleman he is. I quickly step in and he shuts the door when he sees that I'm in and about to buckle up. He gets into the car and starts to drive us to dinner, our car ride is filled with small talk and little giggles here and there. My eyes sparkle as I see the view of the beautiful restaurant that has a lake view behind it. Yejoon parks the car before he gets out and opens my door. He held his hand out and helped me get out before we both walked towards the restaurant. When we walk in Yejoon goes to talk to the waiter about the reservation that he’s made. Once we both get seated, I finally take in the beauty of this place. We sat next to the huge window which gives us access to the view of the lake that has the lights reflected over it.

“This place is so beautiful, Yejoon, thank you for taking me here” I said, giving him a soft smile before I looked over to the table next to us and saw another couple holding hands and looking at each other with love. Yejoon and I talk for a bit while our waiter comes up to us and gives us some wine and takes our orders before leaving us alone. I hear my phone vibrate next to me and I pick it up to look at who's texting me. ‘Jungkook- Go to the bathroom’ I look at my phone with a confused expression on my face. I excuse myself and Yejoon simply nods at me before I grab my bag and make my way to the bathroom. Once I get to the bathroom I simply stand in the hallway before I get my phone and right as I’m about to dial his number I feel a light tap on my shoulder. I jumped slightly before I turned around and was greeted with the sight of Jungkook’s warm smile

“Hi baby” he said mocking Yejoon’s voice as I rolled my eyes at his ridiculous behavior. Just as I’m about to say something to him I feel him drag me into the family bathroom. He locks the door behind himself before I turn around at stare at him

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I asked him as I placed my bag on the sleek marble counter, I crossed my arms before I continued to stare him down. He looks so fucking good right now, he always does. I would almost feel bad for the way I’m looking at my best friend while my boyfriend is outside waiting for me to join him at the table again. He walks toward me and leans against the counter giving me another one of his famous smiles that shout ‘you know you can’t be angry at me’

“I told you I missed you and I wanted to hang out no?” He said simply before he himself looks me up and down, I notice him briefly looking at my hips before he brings his eyes back up to mine

“Jungkook, I’m having dinner with my boyfriend right no-”

“No you’re not because I'm standing right here and I wasn’t at the table with you” he says, cutting me off. I feel my cheeks turn red as he says that and I look down at the floor. His finger hooks under my chin before he leans my head back up so I’m still looking at him. “What’s wrong? Got my baby all flustered for me?” I heard him say before giving me a slight smirk

“Why are you here?” I said pushing on his chest gently so that there could be some space in between both of our bodies. I see him tilt his head at me and a fake ass pout sat on top of his pretty pink lips that are decorated with two silver hoops on his lower lip

“Are you saying you didn’t miss me at all?” he says, stepping closer towards me so that the space between us is closed. Clearly not liking the distance between us

“No I didn’t, I was with Yejoon. Why would I think of you?” I say and I see him eyeing my lips before they make there way back up to my eyes

“That’s a shame because while you’re over here enjoying your night with your boyfriend I’m over here dying. You take up all my headspace, I was thinking about what you were wearing, what you would get, where he is going to take you, and why you are with such a shame of a man and not with me.” I heard him say while I felt his hand gently caress my cheek

“Jungkook, what?” I said with confusion written all over my face

“____ baby, you can’t possibly think that you should settle for him” he said while he looked in my eyes as he only saw pure confusion in them, “Wow you really are dumb”

“Excuse me?” I said before I felt his hand drop from my cheek to my hip. I know it’s wrong and I should probably tell him to stop and get his hands off me but at the moment everything just felt right. His hands on me and both of our bodies pressed together just felt right. I felt his breath gently brush against my lips and I just felt like melting in his hold. His hand grabbed mine and he placed it on top of his chest just enough so that I could feel the faint feeling of his heart beat.

“You feel this ____? This is because of you, I'm only for you. You have me whipped for you and I just have to sit back and watch as you blindly fall in love with this asshole. It hurts me because I have to see you fall in love with someone who isn’t me. I beg you to be by my side so often because it just feels so complete to me, you complete me” He said softly as I felt his heart beat on the palm of my hand quicken. I look at him in shock as he looks down at me with his soft brown eyes filled with pure emotion. “So please ____, choose me. Let me be the man who shows you love and affection. I’m sick of having to tell myself I can’t have you because I know I can and I will” He says, his hand lets go of mine and I feel him brush some hair out of my face.

“Jungkook, I can’t, and you know it too I love him” I said softly as I felt my heart ache as I heard his confession

“No you don’t” He simply says to me before he cups my face in his hands gently. “You can love me and you do it’s just you don’t want to tell yourself that”

“Jungkook, I love him” I said as I felt some tears fill my eyes. My own mind is filled with confusion as I keep thinking if I really see myself with Yejoon. As I think of him Jungkook is the only name thats pops up in my head

“If you truly loved him you wouldn’t let your bestfriend hold you and confess his love to you huh?” He said as I felt his face inch closer to me. He had me stuck, I didn’t know what to say. It was like I’m intoxicated with him. I feel his lips touch mine and that's all it took until my mind is completely made. I love my best friend, I always have. His hands dropped from my face down to holding my hips and my own arms snake up to wrap around his neck. I felt him let out a slight smile against my lips before he picked me up. My legs wrapped around his waist as I felt him place me on top of the marble counter, our kiss never breaking. His lips found their way down to my jawline then slowly trailed down to my neck, his hot breath hitting my neck felt like heaven to me

“Fuck kook” I breathed out as I felt him gently suck the sensative skin behind my ear. His hand trailed their way down from my hips so that they are now resting on both of my thighs. His fingers hook onto the bottom of my dress before he looks up at me to see if I was okay with him doing this. I let out a slow nod then I felt him lift my dress up enough so that my lacy panties were exposed to his eyes. He went on his knees before placing gentle kisses on the insides of my thighs causing me to bite my lip gently, I watched as he slowly made his way up to my covered pussy, my wetness was starting to leak out through the thin material of my panties. Jungkook let out a soft smile before he placed a soft kiss over my covered heat

“So wet for me hm?” He said softly against me before his finger moved my panties to the side so that he had full access to me. I felt him press a soft kiss against my clit which caused a soft moan to escape from my lips. His tongue dipped into my folds and I felt him suck my clit teasingly then letting his tongue fuck my pussy. My hands find their way to his head, I let my fingers get tangled in his hair before I bite my lip and I try to maintain my moans so that they are quiet enough not to be heard outside of the bathroom door. My head falls back as I feel Jungkook’s tongue lap in my pussy. I always knew Jungkook had a past of being so good at sex that he had girls begging and crying for him to come back to them, each and everyone getting rejected. I had even thought of what it would feel like to fuck him or even just have him eat me out. All those thoughts went away once I started to date Yejoon. (sort of)

Jungkook pulled away from my pussy, his chin glistening with my wetness and he smiled at me before he stood up. “Get off the counter, I’ve been waiting so long to be able to fuck you” He said as I jumped off the counter before he turned me around and fully took off my panties letting them fall to the floor. He lifts up my dress higher so that it wouldn’t get in our way. I feel him take his belt and black jeans off before I could feel the clear outline of his hard cock rubbing against my ass. “Shit, I don’t have any protection” He said from behind me

“We don’t need it, I'm on the pill” I said and looked at him through the mirror, a slick smirk placed upon his lips before I heard him take his boxers off. His hand held my waist while the other held his cock and aligned it with my entrance

“Baby if you ever want to stop just let me know, you’re in control” I heard him say while making eye contact with me through the mirror. He gave me a soft smile then he pushed his cock inside of me

“Oh shit” I moaned out once I felt him fully enter me. He lets out a soft groan while his grip on my hips tightens. My mouth fell open in ecstasy once I felt him thrust into me, it felt as if I was being brought into heaven

“Fuck ____, you’re so tight” He said while his head got thrown back as he continued to thrust into me at a erotic pace. I felt him bring the top of my dress down a little, enough so that my boobs spill out, Jungkook quickly grabbed one of my breasts and played with it in his tattooed hand. Quiet moans escaped my lips as He continued to fuck himself into me. His free hand wrapped around my throat before he pulled my body up so that I’m looking into the mirror. I could almost cum at the sight of him fucking himself into my pussy, his long fingers grabbing and playing with the sensitive skin of my breasts. “Look how good we’d be together ____, we look so fuckin’ good together hmm? Say it baby” He said before I felt his grip slightly tighten around my throat. I try to form a sentence but the only thoughts that come into my head are about how good he’s making me feel. I hear him chuckle in my ear with his deep sexy voice, his lips place soft kisses on my shoulder and up to my neck. “Awe, look at how pretty you look struggling to answer me, getting all brain dead while getting fucked with my dick” He said in my ear before he let go of my neck and let his hand fall down to my clit as he began to rub it slowly. “I want you to look at yourself while you cum for me hm?” I nodded at him before my back arched against his back, a louder moan escaped my lips as I felt a knot in my stomach form.

“Kook, im gonna-” I tried to warm him but I just couldn’t, I looked at myself and saw my face all sweaty and my cheeks a bright red color

“Cum baby, I wanna feel you cum around my dick” He said before letting out another soft groan as he continued to rub my clit. I do exactly as he says. After a few thrusts I come undone while he continues to thrust into me. My mouth fell open and my head fell back so that it was resting on his shoulder. Not so long after I felt his thrusts grow sloppy and he came inside of me. Once he pulled out he turned me around and placed a loving kiss to my lips. “God, I love you so much” He whispered against my lips before he helped me clean myself up

“Jungkook,” I said softly as I watched him put his clothes back on after he helped me fix myself so that Yejoon wouldn’t know anything about what just happened. He looked up at me, his soft eyes meeting mine again as he finished buckling his belt. “I love you, I don’t want this to end” I said and he smiled at me before walking towards me putting some hair behind my ear while placing a gentle kiss on my forehead.

“You think I’d just quit on you after I confessed to you? Hell no” He said before letting out a light laugh looking at me with admiration in his eyes. “We can talk about us when you go home later okay baby?” He said pulling away from me, I quickly nodded at him before I saw him exit the bathroom door. I felt a little piece of me disappear as I saw him walk away from me. I look at the mirror and quickly fix some of my makeup before I walk out to Yejoon again.

“Hey there you are! I thought you ran away from me” He says chuckling at me as he takes a bite of his steak. Damn we took so long that the food already came. I sat down in my chair and gave him a fake smile placing my bag down next to me

“Sorry my aunt was going through something and I needed to help her through it” I said laughing awkwardly before I took a bite out of my now cold food. I heard my phone ding, I picked it up and saw a notification from Jungkook. ‘Jungkook- Now that I think about it, you never answered me when I asked if we looked good together. Now I wanna hear you say it.’ I looked up and saw Jungkook standing near the exit looking down at his phone with a small smirk. I ignored his text and took another bite of my food. Ding. I let out a scoff before I opened my phone again and saw another text from him. ‘Jungkook- Don’t ignore me. Say it.’ I giggled quietly to his text before I typed back, ‘- Don’t be an idiot, of course we look amazing together.’ I typed back and I turned off my phone before I saw Yejoon looking at me

“Was that your aunt?” He asked

“Yeah she was just telling me some funny story of my uncle, I’ll tell you later” I said before taking another bite of my food

“I love you ____, you’re such a perfect woman I don’t know what I would do without you” he said smiling at me brightly

“Me too baby” I said, forcing another smile at him as I felt Jungkook's cum slowly make its way down my leg. “So much”

𖧐𐮚~~~~~~~~~~~~~~𖧐𐮚~~~~~~•

Okay guys thank you so much for reading. This was my first time writing smut so I really hope that I did okay 😓 like I’ve said before thank you so much for reading and I’ll post again soon!

- koosluvss

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wliw2raprr · 2 years ago

Text

Light emitter, the LED, led display screen, led backlit display, IR receiver

Q65110A7941 LB Q39E-N1OO-35-1-5-R18

#Optoelectronics #LEDs #Q65110A7941 #ams OSRAM #Light emitter #the LED #led display screen #led backlit display #IR receiver #wireless transceiver #what is an led display #LED Lighting Components #controls #LED light #Smart LED

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luvxkdrama · 5 months ago

Text

— reflections

pairing : frontman x reader

warnings : mentions of blood, guns, manipulation, toxic love

word count : 2.6k

summary : "We're like a mirror, reflecting the same truth from opposite sides."

—

Y/N adjusted her pink jumpsuit and mask, her heart pounding against her ribcage. She hated everything about this place: the screams, the games, the stench of blood that clung to every surface. She hated being part of this macabre machine, but she didn’t have a choice. Or at least, that’s what she tried to justify herself with.

A year ago, when she first arrived and realised what was actually happening, she had vowed to find a way to end it all. Once she was back home, she worked silently, methodically not sharing her plans to anyone, besides one person.

Hwang Inho.

She met him after the first game as he was a pink guard as well and as much as y/n didn’t trust him at first due to his cold facade, he actually turned out to have the same ideas as her. He was different from the other pink guards y/n has met, he was quieter, observant. Unlike the others, who reveled in their power over the players or fell into obedient silence, he had a sharp wit that he wielded sparingly but effectively. He always seemed to sense when Y/N needed a quick distraction during tense moments.

And so, after they got out of the game, they worked side by side often, and she eventually found herself drawn to the rare moments when they spoke about things unrelated to the game. Cozy nights, wrapped in blankets and talking as if there was no tomorrow.

Y/N tried to stay focused on her mission and not let her mind wander anywhere else but with the time passing by, the moments spent together became significantly more important to her.

Things shifted when one particular night instead of going home, Inho suggested y/n to sleepover at his house as it was pouring rain and the roads were dangerously blurry. One thing led to another and eventually y/n found herself laying her head on his bare chest, feeling safer than ever.

“What are you planning to do once you take down the organisation?” He asked while gently running his fingers across her hair.

Y/N thought for a moment and smiled “I don’t know,” she finally answered “My main focus for now is succeeding this mission and the rest… we’ll see I guess.”

Inho chuckled and didn’t push further, understanding her answer. He then put his left hand on her cheek and slowly raised her head to plant a soft kiss on her lips, smiling into the kiss.

A year passed by quickly and it was time to return there again. Y/N felt ready, she knew what to do and when, especially after Inho somehow managed to find a sketch of the whole building where the games take place. Y/N did know that it was extremely odd to find such a thing out of blue, but knowing how helpful it was, she didn’t try to question it and simply let it slide, trusting him and being too immersed in succeeding her plan.

Before she knew, she was back, on her way to the first game, blending in as just another nameless guard in the sea of faceless pink uniforms.

Finally, the day came. It was the night after the third game when no one would expect anything as security was always on the highest alert after the first game.

Y/N was the one in motion while Inho was explaining the way she will have to make in order to get to the private lounge area. She managed to infiltrate the control room, her pulse pounding as she neutralized the guards stationed there. The room smelled of stale coffee and sweat, monitors flickering with live feeds of every horrifying corner of the facility.

She took a deep breath, her resolve hardening. She had made it this far—there was no turning back now.

After shutting down the security systems and eliminating anyone in her way, Y/N pushed through a heavy door into a private lounge area. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of a massive screen casting shadows over the elegant furniture. Her breath hitched as her eyes landed on a figure sitting on a leather sofa, his back to her.

Her hand tightened around the gun she held. “Don’t move.”

The man didn’t flinch. He tilted his head slightly, as if amused. “You made it quicker than I expected.” His voice was low and computerized due to the black mask.

Y/N quickly grabbed her walkie talkie and told Inho she managed to make it to the private lounge. However, even after waiting for a few more seconds, she didn’t get a reply. She tried once again but to no avail. She started to get nervous as to why he wasn't responding.

Her grip on the gun wavered slightly and she cursed, deciding to take matters in her own hands for now “Turn around. Slowly.”

He raised the whiskey to his lips, taking a sip before setting the glass down on the table. Then, with deliberate slowness, he stood and turned to face her, the black mask looking right at her.

Y/N tried to reach out to Inho once again when suddenly the frontman took out something from his pocket. It was the walkie talkie y/n had given Inho. She froze, fearing the frontman somehow managed to capture Inho while she was busy fighting the soldiers.

"Where did you get this ?" She gulped, taking a few steps closer to him, pointing the gun right at his chest “If you hurt him I swear-”

A low chuckle echoed across the room, y/n looked at the frontman who shook his head before raising his hands to take off the mask.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat and her heart dropped.

It was him. Hwang Inho.

In an instant, it felt like all the walls around her started to suffocate her and that the room progressively got smaller. Her brain couldn’t process what she was seeing. The man she had spent so much time with, the one who made her feel understood and the one who showed her what love felt like, was standing in front of her in a black coat with the black mask in his hand—the unmistakable mask of the Front Man.

“You—” she started, her voice cracking.

“Yes,” he said simply, his voice colder now, void of the warmth she had grown accustomed to.

Y/N’s mind raced, piecing everything together. All the times he had been quiet, watching, listening. The way he seemed to know more than he let on. She felt like the ground had been ripped out from under her.

“Why?” she demanded, her voice trembling.

“Why what?” he asked, stepping closer. “Why did I let you get this far? Or why am I standing here instead of stopping you?”

“Don’t,” she said sharply, raising the gun higher. “Don’t come any closer.”

The frontman—no, Inho—stopped, his hands raised in mock surrender. “If I wanted to stop you, Y/N, you’d already be dead. You know that.”

Her finger hovered over the trigger, her entire body shaking. “You knew. This whole time, you knew what I was doing. You were even helping me.”

"Helping is a big word. I’d rather say I was agreeing with your ideas and eventually giving you some clues from time to time.”

Her breath hitched. “What was your goal?”

He shrugged, his gaze unreadable. “I wanted to see how far you’d go. And now, here we are. I never doubted you though, I knew we'd meet here as I saw the ambition and determination in your eyes.”

For a long moment, they stood in silence, the weight of the truth settling between them. She hated him. She hated the games, the cruelty, the manipulation.

“I trusted you,” she whispered, lowering the gun slightly.

He stepped closer, this time without resistance. “And maybe you still can.”

Y/N’s heart pounded as he stopped just inches away, “What are you talking about?”

“Finish what you started,” he said simply, his voice low. “Shut it all down.”

Y/N stood frozen, her pulse roaring in her ears as his words settled over her like a suffocating fog. Her whole purpose for being here—to dismantle the games, to destroy everything he had built—now felt like a fragile construct teetering on the edge of collapse. And yet, she couldn’t deny the pull of his words, the horrible, awful logic they carried.

“You’re insane, Inho.” she whispered finally, her voice raw.

Hwang Inho didn’t flinch, didn’t react to her insult. “Maybe,” he said softly. “But if I’m insane then what does that make you?” He asked suddenly “You’ve killed for your cause, Y/N. You killed dozens of guards to get here. And now, here you are—standing in front of me with a gun, and yet you can’t pull the trigger. Why?”

The silence between them stretched, thick and heavy, until Y/N couldn’t take it anymore. “You’re trying to twist this,” she spat, her voice rising. “Trying to manipulate me into thinking we’re the same so I won’t stop you.”

His gaze followed her, steady and unflinching. “I don’t need to manipulate you, Y/N. You’ve already proven my point. You killed those guards to get here. You knew the risks, and you accepted them. You’re not here because you’re better than me. You’re here because you’re willing to do whatever it takes—just like I am.”

"I don't kill those people, Y/N," he continued, referring to the players “I don't force them to come here, I give them a choice. Moreover, after each game they have the choice to stay or continue. They kill the other players to survive and get more money, not me. People are so greedy for money that it makes them blind. They loose the privilege of being called human, they reveal their true nature — monsters.”

She whirled on him, her chest heaving. “Not everyone comes here by choice, some just don't have any other way. So you're wrong Inho-”

He approached her slowly, towering over her now, his presence overwhelming in the small space. “Tell me Y/N, what do you think will happen if you kill me ?” he asked, his voice cold but not unkind. “The people who run this—the VIPs—they’ll just start again somewhere else. Somewhere you can’t reach them. Do you really think killing me will end this? I'm a just a puppet who accepted the harsh reality of this world, Y/N.”

Her throat tightened, the weight of his words pressing down on her. She wanted to scream that he was wrong, that there was a way to stop it all. But she didn’t have an answer.

“Exactly,” he whispered, as if reading her thoughts. “You think you can destroy this, but all you’ll do is burn yourself out trying. And in the meantime, people will keep dying.”

“So what?” she shot back, her voice trembling. “You’re saying I should join you? Help you keep this nightmare alive?”

He didn’t answer right away. Finally, his voice softened as he said, “I’m saying you need to decide what matters more—your principles, or your survival.”

She stared at him, her heart pounding. “I’d rather die than become like you.”

A faint smile flickered across his lips, “That’s what they all say.”

Before she could respond, the door behind her suddenly opened, and two guards stepped inside. Y/N’s stomach clenched, her body tensing and she immediately raised her gun at them, turning her back to Inho who didn’t even flinch.

"Don’t you get it Y/N ? We're like a mirror, reflecting the same truth from opposite sides." He gently put his hands on both of her arms, stepping behind her and looking at her side profile.

Y/N’s grip on the gun tightened, her breath catching. She shook her head sharply, the anger rising in her chest. “No,” she spat, her voice bitter. “You’re not me. You’re a killer. And I don’t care what you say—you’re not going to twist this into something else.”

His smile barely flickered. “Funny. I thought you would understand. The line between right and wrong is thin, Y/N. You kill for your cause, I kill for mine. But in the end, it’s the same thing, isn’t it?”

Y/N’s heart pounded in her ears, the room spinning for a second. It was true—too true. But she wouldn’t let him win. She couldn’t let herself be like him.

“No,” she repeated, her voice quieter but full of conviction. She took a step back, turning back to look at him, his hands brushing over her sides before leaving her body completely. The weight of the gun in her hand heavy.

This wasn’t what she signed up for, wasn’t what she had worked so hard for. But standing there, facing him, she realized just how dangerous his words were, how much of what he said hit too close to home.

Y/N stood in the doorway, gun still heavy in her hand, her heart beating erratically in her chest. She suddenly raised her gun and pointed it directly at his heart, her finger twitching over the trigger. She had made her choice—at least, that’s what she had thought. The mission. The goal. It all led to this moment. One pull and it would be over. But now, standing in front of him, the room filled with the echoes of her hesitation, the lines between right and wrong blurred in a way she couldn’t ignore anymore.

She had been ready to walk away, ready to follow through, to do what she believed was right. But something inside her faltered, her resolve cracking like ice under pressure. He had been right about one thing—their reflection was too similar. She had spent so much of her life believing that she was the opposite of him, but with every step closer she took toward him, it felt more like she was staring into a mirror she had spent so long trying to avoid.

He stepped closer, his eyes never leaving hers, his gaze steady but somehow understanding. “You don’t have to fight it anymore, Y/N. We’re the same. We both do what we believe is necessary. You can either leave, and I will make sure to get you home safely, or you can stay with me and accept the world is a cruel place that can’t be saved.”

Her chest tightened, and despite her efforts to resist, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from him. There was something in his presence—something that made her feel understood in a way no one else ever had. She hated that it was him, hated that it was this—but she couldn’t deny the pull, the connection, the understanding that went beyond their roles in this twisted game.

For a moment, everything seemed to pause. Her breath, his movements, the weight of the gun—everything hung in the balance.

She lowered the weapon, her hands shaking as she realized the truth. She couldn’t walk away from him—not completely. She had tried, had convinced herself that she was different, that she was better, but deep down, she knew they were too alike. Too broken. Too far gone.

“I don’t want to be like you,” she whispered, more to herself than him, but it didn’t matter anymore.

“You already are,” he replied softly, but there was no malice in his words—only something darker, something that felt like acceptance.

And in that moment, something shifted inside her. She couldn’t fight it anymore. She couldn’t deny it anymore. Her feelings for him, no matter how twisted or complicated, were real. And maybe—just maybe—there was no escaping this dark connection they shared.

She looked up at him. She wasn’t sure if it was love or something darker that pulled her closer, but when she stood in front of him, their eyes locking, she knew one thing for certain: she wasn’t walking away. She couldn't.

“Stay” he said, his voice barely a whisper, but it held an undeniable weight.

He slowly leaned in and his lips met hers. Y/N didn't move away. She couldn't. She felt interlocked to him in a way she never did with anyone. She left the salty taste of her own tears during the kiss, feeling her heart betraying her own mind.

For a long moment, they stood in silence, looking at each other, two sides of the same broken coin, too entwined to walk away from each other.

The world outside didn’t matter. The game didn’t matter. In that room, at that moment, it was just the two of them. Together. Alike.

#kdrama x reader #inho x reader #hwang inho #hwang inho x reader #frontman #frontman x reader #salesman x reader #squid game #squid game season 2 #inho

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