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httpsserene · 1 year

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ʜᴛᴛᴘꜱꜱᴇʀᴇɴᴇ'ꜱ ꜰ1 ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟ

ᴜᴘʟᴏᴀᴅ 1 : ᴄʜᴀʀʟᴇꜱ ʟᴇᴄʟᴇʀᴄ / ᴍᴀx ᴠᴇʀꜱᴛᴀᴘᴘᴇɴ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ |ᴄᴏʀʀᴜᴘᴛɪᴏɴ ᴋɪɴᴋ

📖ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: innocent and virgin !reader has never touched herself before. she knows how to, in theory, but whenever she tries, she chickens out. her tried and true way of receiving pleasure is failing her. she thinks that maybe it's time to allow her relationship with her two respectful and experienced boyfriends, to reach the next step. and she'll find that they're very willing to teach her a few things. 📖ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: 18+ only. smut. corruption kink. orgasm delay/denial. praise kink. dom/sub undertones. hair-pulling. possessiveness. slight choking (glimpse and you miss it?). brief reference to previous dub-con (very minuscule, not charles or max). no penetrative sex. 📖ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 8k words 📖ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: charles leclerc / max verstappen x fem!black!reader 📖ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: oneshot 📖ꜱᴏᴜɴᴅᴛʀᴀᴄᴋ: all mine • brent faiyaz

ᴘʀᴇꜰᴀᴄᴇ: the strength i had to summon to post this is something crazy. it's my first smut fic if you can believe it or not, but the way i feel exposed to the world is wild. i almost forgot to include the actual kink because i got carried away, but it's there i promise you, don't get disappointed too early in! can confirm that while i was writing this i had to take several breaks and stare at the ceiling. the black!reader is vague i think, it's not noticeable until the end, but i had written it with all shades of my poc girlies in mind < 3. n e ways: hope you guys like it!

want to be added to my f1 kinktober taglist? or my general tag list? send me an ask!

huge thanks to my beta readers @lorarri and @sweetpiccolo-blog ! i appreciate y'all so much :)

cross-posted on my ao3, htpsss

here's the link to the masterlist for my f1 kinktober special, and send me a private message if you would like to be added to the list to become a beta reader in the future!!!

it’s late. you’ve kicked jimmy and sassy out of the bedroom, and locked it shut. you’re standing with your back pressed against the door, staring with unfocused eyes. you moved your stuffed animals inside the closet and had them facing the wall even though you closed the closet door. the window curtains are drawn shut, and the only light in the room is the warmth of one nightstand lamp. one of the plushest towels max owns is spread across the bed. in the center lays a single pillow.

this is the last chance you have to get off before max and charles get home in a few hours. they’ve been gone for a triple-header, and you haven’t been able to orgasm once in the near month they’ve been gone. you’ve become depraved enough to consider buying a vibrator, but all packages delivered to this apartment have to be approved by max or charles to be sent up, and you’re definitely not bold enough to go out and buy one (and risk being seen by one of their fans or have to physically talk to someone to buy one).

the obvious thing to do would be to talk to your boyfriends, and tell them that you’re ready to start exploring the sexual side of your relationship. you’ve been dating them for two years now, and you’re afraid that they’re getting tired of waiting for you to be comfortable enough to have sex with them. but, you’re also afraid that once they learn how inexperienced you really are—they’ll make fun of you, leave you, and find some other woman who knows how to please them. you know that’s outrageous and never going to happen. they’re the sweetest boys you’ve ever dated (way better than that one dude you dated who tried to get you wasted enough to persuade you into having sex with him), and they’ve been very respectful concerning your boundaries. always pulling away when they feel themselves getting hard, and constantly reminding you to tell them to stop if you feel uncomfortable and that there’s nothing wrong with that, and that they’re willing to wait as long as you need, and will continue loving you regardless even if you decide to never have sex with them. so—of course you know that they won’t be assholes about your innocence—it’s just your own self-esteem, insecurity, and overthinking that prevents you from saying you’re ready.

you make a deal with yourself. if you can’t manage to get off grinding against your pillow one last time, you’ll force yourself to sit down with your boyfriends, stare them in the eyes and state that your ready to have sex. who are you kidding—you’re going to get off right now one way or another even if it kills you, because you definitely will wither away and die if you have to have that conversation with your boyfriends.

you walk over to the bed, heart beginning to race as you start playing one of those curated “songs i’d like to be railed to” playlists, before throwing your phone somewhere up the bed. you move to straddle the pillow, and begin to calm your heartbeat. you take a few deep breaths and let your mind wander. the first thought that comes to your head is the goodbye kiss you got from your boyfriends before they left.

they had gotten all their luggage together and were pulling on their shoes at the entryway. charles was pouting at you, wide green eyes and all, “you are sure that you don’t want to come with us? for at least one of the races? we’ll be gone for almost a—“

“yes, cha. i’m sure,” you cut him off with a firm nod, “lemme give you a kiss before you leave, okay?”

charles frowned at max who laughed—like he wasn’t the one begging you to come with them last night before you all went to bed. with a little upset ‘hmph’ charles leaned down and kissed you softly. you had pulled away, only trying to give him a peck, and charles grunted disapprovingly. one of his veiny hands rose and gripped at your waist over your t-shirt, strongly pulling you forward, causing you to tumble into his chest. “oh, i am going to need more than that, mon ange,” charles smirked down at you, “i am leaving for so long, and that’s the goodbye kiss you’re leaving me with? no, i do not think so.”

you glanced away from him, cheeks beginning to become warm as you make to hide your face is his broad chest. charles tutted at you, tightening his grip on your waist, and his other hand gently pushed your head up to look at him, “c’mere and give me a real kiss, pretty girl.”

you made a suppressed little squeal in the back of your throat, a noise max and charles became very familiar with, often present when they start teasing you. you surprisingly leaned up and initiated the kiss, causing charles to let out a shocked gasp into your mouth. his hand on your waist moved lower, falling to the small of your back and pushed your body completely against his. his other hand caressed your jaw, soothing you enough to allow him to control the kiss, as he flicked his tongue at the seam of your lips. you shakily sighed, allowing him entrance and the kiss deepened, a pleased humming noise in the back of your throat escaping.

you impatiently shift side to side on top of the pillow, not yet allowing yourself to get any friction. sliding both of your hands underneath your sweater—well, max’s sweater, and you start playing with your chest. flicking gently at your nipples, just the way you like.

you could feel charles chuckle into the kiss, but you dismiss it, and keep kissing at him eagerly. however, you failed to recognize that he wasn’t laughing at you, he was laughing at max. cockily making eye-contact with him, before he let his eyes flutter shut and devoted his attention to you.

max stared on, his mouth slightly open as he watched his two loves give him a show for free. charles’ hand slipped lower, gliding over your ass, across your criminally well-fitted jeans, and found its home on the back of your thigh. max is well acquainted with how skilled charles’ mouth is, so he knows he must have done something spectacular to cause a choked-off moan to escape you, your hand raised to grab at charles’ polo in a fist, wrinkling the pressed shirt. max huffed, deciding to no longer spectate, and took the few steps to reach you across the foyer.

you let out a shocked gasp, eyes fluttering open in surprise at the feeling of your other boyfriend pressed up against your back. you attempt to break the kiss, but charles doesn’t let you. hand slipping from your cheeks to the nape of your neck, tangling in the hairs there and keeping you exactly where he wants. one of max’s hands came to rest at your hip, while the other rested on your navel. your eyes fell shut again in pleasure at how charles gently nipped at your bottom lip, and max’s presence is pushed to the back of your mind.

you didn’t register max’s hand disappearing from your abdomen, but suddenly, the air was cut with a pained moan from charles and his lips were ripped away from yours.

your eyes flew open, and max’s hand was buried in charles’ hair, tugging his head backward and maneuvering it into what must be an almost uncomfortable angle, but with how pleased charles looked—you wanted to feel it too. his eyes rolled backwards, before he pressed them shut and re-opened them to reveal dilated pupils and half-lidded lashes; panting hard, lips covered with your shared spit, and a fucked-out look in his eyes.

you struggle to pull off your sleeping shorts, eventually managing to tug them off to reveal your white cotton panties. your hand leaves your breast to touch at your heat, and you’re shocked at how wet you’ve gotten already. you use that same hand to adjust your pillow, before you let your hips fall all the way and make contact with the pillow. you sigh in relief.

now, max is the one to laugh with his hand firmly keeping charles in place. “oh, you know better than to tease me charlie…” he started, and you barely heard him. fixated on the way charles’ tongue frequently slips out to lick at his lips, but you could hear the smirk max was wearing.

“and you’re also not the only one leaving our sweet girl for a month. you should be nice and let me have a taste too, hm? isn’t that right, schatje?” he directs at charles. max’s other hand made its way up your abdomen, copping a feel at your chest, before it rested across your throat. he wasn’t squeezing at all, but the weight of his hand, how it spans across your neck, and how you can feel the strength lying underneath his skin, caused you to lose your breath. he guided your head back and dropped his to get his own goodbye kiss.

the kiss felt like it lasted for a lifetime, but realistically it had to be less than a minute of max forcing charles to watch how he ravaged your mouth, before charles started whining loudly. max patted your neck gingerly before pulling away and laughing at charles’ teary eyes. your legs were trembling and you were pretty sure if max wasn’t behind you, you would’ve fallen long ago. in one smooth motion, his hand fell to the monegasque’s throat from his hair and pulled him closer, completely sandwiching you between them, as their lips met in a wild kiss.

your hips start to rock against the pillow, keeping it slow in the beginning, learning your lesson about friction burn the last time you got too erratic with your moves too quickly.

charles—completely desperate—whined deep in his throat and max kept pulling consistently depraved moans and grunts out of your boyfriend. max’s other hand moved off of your hip to smack at charles’, a nonverbal command for him to calm down and let max take care of him. you felt charles practically vibrating against you in need, but he slowly started to calm; his posture slackening and lips slowing, allowing the dutch full control.

the two of them were completely ignoring you. caught in their own world, putting all of their energy into their kisses, and in turn gave you a front row seat to something you're never going to forget about. you felt so small in between the two of them, like the only thing that kept you from floating away is the fact that you were stuck in between their bodies.

eventually, max released his grip on charles and separated from the kiss, giving charles air to breathe. the blonde stepped backwards away from your body, and you stumbled embarrassingly. max’s hands went up to hover around your waist (suddenly so shy to touch you) to make sure you actually didn't fall. charles shook his head, physically trying to clear the haze in his mind before he stumbled away from you as well, pressing his back against the wall.

his chest was heaving with exertion, cheeks flushed a pretty red color, while his hands went to tug at his uncomfortably tight pants, failing to adjust himself to make his erection less obvious. he suddenly turns shy as well—it probably doesn’t help that max was laughing at how easy he is to turn on—, and charles tries to try and tug his shirt down to cover up his problem as best as he can.

your hips start to pick up in speed, movements more sure and less shaky. the friction between the cotton pillowcase and panties is multiplied on your cunt, and when you rock down deep enough, the catch of the panties on your clit is nearly immobilizing.

thinking about the moment before your boys left leads you into fantasizing about their dynamic, and how they are in the bedroom. that morning alone proved who was actually in charge; charles will tease and take whatever he can, as long as max allows him to. you can recall many instances of max guiding a well-fucked charles out of the bedroom and depositing him on your lap, before he went on to clean up and run the monegasque a bath.

the multiple post-sex facetimes you’ve gotten from the two when they’re across the world always starts with max softly speaking, “i’ve worn him out pretty good, but he refuses to fall asleep unless he gets to call you.” and the phone is passed to charles, who’s voice and lips are ruined to hell and you have to decipher what he’s attempting to say.

you’re starting to acclimate to the current tempo, so you pick it up another notch. you lean forward, bracing your hands on the bed for support as you focus on doing deeper and slower grinds against the pillow, allowing your clit to get constant attention.

you find comfort in the fact that charles allows max to take him to such a vulnerable state, and sometimes—you even find yourself getting jealous. you started joining them to see their aftercare for yourself, and found out that you're aching to be taken apart and put back together like max and charles do to each other.

the sound of max’s constant praises of charles being “so good for him,” and charles’s constant stream of “thank you, thank you, maxy” has you losing all train of thought.

you abandon the slow-and-steady technique, you’ve tried it several times this month and it’s failed to get you to come. you bite your lip, letting out a frustrated groan. your hips slow, and you grab the front of the pillow with one hand and pull it upwards, hoping that a tighter space allows better friction. you start moving quicker, doing smaller more shallow motions and it’s tons better. you can’t stop thinking that it would be even better to ride charles’ face.

even though your eyelids are scrunched shut, the thousands of tiktok edits you’ve seen of your boyfriends post-race; balaclava lines, sweaty, messy hair, and all—are playing behind them. you moan out desperately, toes curling in your socks. you hear the phantom noises of monegasque moans along with the imagined whispers of dutch-accented praises.

the knot in your navel tightens, your thighs begin to tremble, and you can feel yourself clenching around nothing. this is it, the feeling that’s escaped you for a month, it’s returning, you can finally come.

you start to rut against the pillow, uncaring of how your wetness has seeped into the pillow cover and sticks against your thighs—if anything, it’s just another pleasant sensation. unfiltered squeals and gasps start slipping out, you’re too blissed out to regulate your volume at this point.

but then, a minute passes and you still haven’t fallen over the precipice. it’s right there; you can see it, you can even hear it, but you can’t fucking feel it.

your moans of pleasure turn into cries of frustration. your legs start to quiver with exhaustion, and the orgasm you almost had fades. tears spill from your eyes, as you frantically rut against the soaked pillow, not caring about rhythm or technique anymore. and your chance is gone, your sobs echoing around the room at another failed attempt.

you climb off the pillow and fall on your side, crying into the towel trying to muffle your anguished noises. you have the fleeting thought to think that you're overreacting, but fuck that. you’ve literally been unwillingly denying yourself for a month.

after you’ve cried yourself out, you get up and start to clean up the mess you made. when you lean down to pick up the shorts you flung across the room, you hear jimmy and sassy start yowling outside of the room. and faintly, you hear the front door open.

fuck.

a giggle slips out of charles as the cries of the cats are heard outside of the apartment door. max shoots a glare at charles for laughing at his children, before he loses the fight and a smile slips out in response to the monegasque’s. finally managing to slip the key into the lock, max speaks, “we’re supposed to surprise her by being early, cha—maybe we should’ve let the cat’s know when we called earlier today?” they step through the threshold, quickly shutting the door behind them so the cats won’t run out. charles makes a questioning hum as they both start slipping out their jackets, “they are cats, mon minou. i do not think they care about anything other than when you come back to feed them.”

max side eyes him heavily as he squats down to untie his sneakers, and looks around slightly confused, “i think we are missing a greeting from one more kitten, wouldn't you say, charles?” the man in question nods in agreement, while finally petting jimmy and sassy to calm them down a little bit. whenever the two of them return home, you usually race to the door along with the cats. you give them warm hugs and sweet kisses, help them take their jackets off, and let them know if you cooked a meal for them, or prepared a bath.

but tonight, they don’t hear the sound of your footsteps coming towards them. it’s rare for them not to be greeted at the door, most of the time you beat them to unlocking it, with the alarm system the cats provide.

charles questions, “maybe she fell asleep? we did not tell her that we moved our flight earlier. and we did tell her to go to bed because we would be arriving late.”

max snorts disbelievingly, “when has she ever gone to bed when we’ve told her to,” he starts, “she’s probably just in the bathroom or something.”

the two spend a few minutes paying some attention to the cats, before they begin to get suspicious at the fact that you still haven’t come to welcome them back. they straighten up and start heading towards the bedroom.

max pushes the door open, and everything looks normal except for the fact that you’re nowhere to be seen. the bed is put together, one nightstand lamp is on, and the bathroom is empty. max and charles stare at each other with matching baffled expressions, before you clear your throat in the doorway.

max jumps, “shit!” and charles flinches, “oh, what the fuck!”

your giggles reverberate through the air, and the two men can only laugh along with you. “oh? so you find scaring us funny, schat?” max teases gently. you pad over to him, throwing your arms around his neck to pull him in for a tight hug, nodding softly into his neck as you breathe him in. charles huffs after he’s deemed that you spent too much time loving on max before he pulls you into his own grasp, one arm braced tightly around your waist while his other hand cradles the back of your head resting in his chest. “she’s absolutely frightening, max, can’t you tell?” he teases back, defending you jokingly.

max hums, “definitely. where were you hiding, baby?”

you freeze for second as you pull away from charles’ grasp, before stuttering your way through an explanation, “u-uh oh, i was-um, i was just in the laundry room! i was just putting a few things i had accidentally spilled uh- spilled juice on-yes juice of course, in the uh-washing machine, yes,” you nod firmly, to fully convince them.

the monegasques raises an eyebrow at you and dragged out an, “…….okay, i guess?” max follows up with a sarcastic, “yeah….we definitely believe you!”

you narrow your eyes at him, “are you calling me a liar, max? because, why would i lie about—“

charles cuts you off, turning your head back towards him as he squints at your face. he runs his thumb underneath one of your eyes, and speaks softly, “were you crying, mon ange? your eyes are red and swollen.”

you shake your head rapidly to attempt to dismiss his worry but it’s already too late. max practically teleports to your side and scans your face and with a gasp he reveals, “yes, you did cry. i can still see the tears stained on your cheeks.”

you shift uncomfortably, “yes, okay! i did cry! but it was nothing serious,” you pause and mumble the last part of your sentence, “i was just overreacting anyways, it doesn’t matter.”

max smacks his teeth at you disapprovingly, “hey, don’t be mean to yourself, schatje. anything that causes you to cry does matter. tell us, and we can try and make it better for you.” the two boys wear you down with earnest eyes; the monegasque brushes his lips against your hand comfortingly and the dutchman tucks your hair behind your ears soothingly. they wait patiently and don’t attempt to push you any further, but there’s an unspoken understanding between the two of them; they won’t let this go until you explicitly ask them two. and suddenly, your resistance falls and words start rushing out of your mouth.

“im so tired, okay? i’ve been trying for ages, ages, and i can’t get there! everytime i try, i-i-it’s like i’m right there–right there! and then it never comes! it’s torture. the harder i try to reach for it, the more it slips away, and then it doesn’t even feel good anymore! i thought this was supposed to feel good–and now what’s the point?! i don’t even wanna try again if i’m just going to be–”

“woah, woah, woah.” max cuts you off, “what are we talking about exactly, schatje? have you not been getting enough sleep or something? because we can try and–" you interrupt, “NO! i haven’t came in a MONTH! are you even listening to me?!”

charles chokes on his own breath and max damn near faints. most importantly, they’re shaken at your bluntness around the topic; every time they try to ask if you’ve been finding…relief–for lack of a better word, you tend to snap shut if they use any ‘explicit’ words with you– you tell them not to worry about it. so, to hear you say it plainly reveals how much distress this has been causing you. secondly, the thought that you’ve been desperately trying to get off for a month on your own, is a paralyzing thought. they nearly convinced themselves that you had no idea about anything sexual due to your refusal to answer any of their questions—which there would be nothing wrong with, they’d be happy to teach you how to please them and them alone. it’s a seductive thought, the fact that you’re untouched, that no man has had the opportunity to taint you and ruin your perspective on how you should receive and give pleasure. they’ve been praying for the day you’d be ready to let them teach you how to be good for them. maybe that makes them monsters, for taking advantage of your naivety and innocence, and molding you into their perfect girl, but they stopped feeling guilty for desiring this long ago.

you seem to have missed the fact that you sent their minds reeling and continue venting, “i don’t know what to do, maxy! i’ve been doing the same thing, and it’s NEVER failed me before. it’s cruel that it stopped working when you guys left me for more than a month! no matter how i did it–if i did the exact same things i’ve always been doing, or tried something new, nothing worked! i was literally just considering buying a fucking vibrator! a vibrator, charles, i’d rather run naked in the street than buy that online and have to put in this delivery address–”

charles gently presses finger against your mouth, shushing you. he pulls you into a deep hug, rubbing a hand up and down the length of your back , the motion pacifying you. he hums, and it vibrates through his chest to yours, “mmm, we’re home now, mon ange. there’s no need to run in the streets naked–” “definitely not,” max jumps in, reacting possessively at the implication of other people seeing you undressed. charles rolls his eyes and continues (like he’s not just as jealous as max), “or buy a vibrator. i know it must be so frustrating, to not cum,” you gasp softly, “especially when you’ve been edging yourself accidentally for so long, hm?”

a questioning sound slips from your lips, “hm? what’s edging? i just haven’t,” your voice drops to a whisper, “cum.” max thinks that he’s seriously fucked-up in the head, because he watches how you bury your face into charles’s chest after your whispered word, refusing to make eye contact with them out of embarrassment; and relishes at the fact that you absolutely have no idea about what exactly you’ve been doing to yourself. he’s going to enjoy ruining teaching you everything he knows.

“edging is repeated instances of sexual stimulation and stopping before your orgasm. it’s called that because you are kept ‘on the edge.’ you can do it to yourself or with others,” max states in an unfazed manner. he sees you start to relax, knowing that you find comfort in his matter-of-fact tone.

a pout lowers your lips, “who would enjoy that? it feels terrible.”

max breaks out in a grin, slipping an arm around charles and squeezing at his tapered waist, “you know somebody who enjoys it very much, liefje,” charles blushes at the sudden call out, and watches the way your eyes widen in shock. max continues, “anyways, you may find that you enjoy it when it’s done properly—with people who are experienced enough to make sure you’re feeling good and keep you feeling good… and show you how to have a proper orgasm, hm?” max segways into the important topic, not allowing you to deflect any longer.

charles stops your attempt at hiding in his broad shoulder this time around, and firmly holds your face to keep you facing max. the dutch give charles a nod of appreciation and watches how he shifts on his feet at the acknowledgement; he might have to take care of him after he’s done with you, too. max allows your eyes to avoid meeting his, letting them roam his face as you battle your own insecurity.

“liefje,” max deepens his tone, knowing how you melt at any pitch similar to his morning voice, “there is no need to be embarrassed about your virginity and innocence. you had your boundaries set, and never bent or broke them to make someone happy at the cost of your comfort. no matter how much pressure someone applied to you, you refused to let them have you in one of the most vulnerable positions you could ever be in because you felt unsure or plainly uncomfortable with them. that is something you should take pride in and no one should make a joke out of your virginity for that instance. tonight, you can still make that decision if you are not completely sure on allowing charles and i the privilege of teaching you how to feel satisfied. we will continue to wait for you; you have the power here, not charles or i. do what is best for you at this moment, and if that changes, tell us so, and we will continue or stop at your will.”

the room is silent as the three of you digest max’s spiel. charles and max seem to be completely nonchalant about the matter, but they are trying to hide how anxious they are about your possible refusal, for your sake. of course they are hoping that you’ll accept their helping hands, or lips, or tongues, or coc—but, that’s not their main intention tonight. the goal is for them to start building a deeper level of understanding and trust with you, to where you allow yourself to be in your most vulnerable state with them. and that will take time; they’re not expecting you to completely reveal your innermost workings to them instantaneously. however, they most definitely want to show you how good they can make you feel and how good you can make them feel. and once you internalize that, then they can start working on showing you the wonders of sex—or plainly put, they can start tainting you.

you nod. charles eyes brighten and his cheeks dimple with the appearance of a wild smile. he leans in to kiss you in thanks, but max halts him with one finger to the forehead and a quick ‘aht aht,’ “that won’t do, liefje, i need verbal confirmation—words, please.”

“y-you can…you can help s-show and teach me how to…how to feel good. i am ready to have…,” your voice thins out, and suddenly you shake your head, eyes meeting max’s straight on in an unusual act of confidence, clearing your throat, “i am ready for us to have—i’m ready for you to fuck me.”

max wasn’t exactly ready for that wording and faltered, a little shook. charles on the other hand has to struggle to refrain from laughter. at the mixed reaction, your bravado slips away, and you add, “please?” charles loses the laugh automatically; your timid but desperate widened brown doe eyes stare up at the two of them, flickering between them anxiously, plump lips parted with your tongue flicking out—he has a few ideas of something he can offer to keep that mouth of yours busy.

max rumbles in satisfaction, “see, that wasn’t so hard, was it pretty girl? we’ll work on that confidence of yours for sure—but, i have a few rules for you first before we get started. charles, why don’t you tell our girl the first two?”

“number one, always answer our questions with words; if you don’t, we’ll stop and wait for you to respond. two, if you feel uncomfortable at any point, tell us, and we’ll stop what we’re doing and make it better for you or stop completely if necessary,” charles answers assuredly.

you nod, and max raises an eyebrow at you, “i mean, yes!”

max praises you, “you’re already doing so good for us,” he watches your breath catch at the sentence and figures he may have another praise kink on his hands, “you wanna be a good girl and tell me what you were really doing before we came home?” your cheeks burn and your previous embarrassment returns full force, but you fight through it, not wanting to break the rules right off the bat.

“well, you remember how i said my usual method wasn’t working anymore? i wasn’t lying about that. i only g-get off when you guys leave, andidoitbygrindingonapillow—and i have to put down a towel before becauseimakeamess. so! i really was doing laundry, i just didn’t spill juice on it…i kinda, spilled on it.”

charles’ hands fall away from you in shock, and max really doesn’t know if he can handle another revelation like this from you without actually passing out. you continue to over-explain, “and i i-i didn’t even get to, y’ know (oh my god, she soaked the pillow without even cumming, max!), and i got that wet anyway…and i can’t really control it, but if you guys don’t like it i can try and—“

“NO!” “PLEASE DON’T!”

you flinch away, and they apologize heavily for their overreaction.

“please, don’t, mon ange. i can tell you that max and i aren’t ever going to hate what’s between your legs, or what comes from there,” charles suggests with a smirk, before his face shifts to a more blank state “wait. did…did you have a chance to change?” you hum a little “mm-mm” glancing down at yourself still clad in max’s sweater and cotton panties, “uhm. no, i was a little more concerned with cleaning up the bed before you guys saw it so—sorry, i’m not a little more presentable—“

“are you wearing the same panties, mon ange?”

you freeze, brain lagging at what the monegasque had noticed. “mhm, yeah,” you whisper softly, playing with the hem of the sweater self-soothingly.

“can i,” charles takes a deep breath, “can i touch you, mon coeur?”

you squeak, “yes please, charlie.”

max watches as charles places his massive hand on one of your thighs, spanning the front with no struggle, and gently caresses his hand up, slowly making his way up your thigh. charles taps two fingers gently against you, and you spread your legs a smidge wider, and the sound of your thighs peeling off one another from the stickiness you leaked, reverberates around the room. max can’t help but let a moan slip out. charles slides his hand in between your legs, both of your own hands fisting at the hem of your borrowed sweatshirt, and you gasp at the lightest touch of charles pointer and middle finger against your soaked panties. max sees charles pupils blow wide and mouth drop open in awe—and he can’t wait anymore.

max presses his front to your back, sandwiching you in between them once again, and impatiently asks, “schatje, can i?” you let out a breathy ‘yeah,’ and max doesn’t hesitate to bully his hand in between your legs as well. he cops a more generous feel of your cunt, and groans at the state of ruin your panties are in.

“liefje,” max starts, “walk with me to the bed, please.” max pulls away, and unfastens one of your hands from the sweater to guide you. you turn around stumbling through your first few steps—charles sets you upright more prepared for your legs becoming jello than you are, and helps you over to the bed, one hand firmly set on the small of your back. max sits on the edge of the bed, man spreading comfortably, and watches how your eyes automatically fall to stare at his thighs with a smirk. he glances at charles behind you, who mouths ‘can’t blame her’ with a smirk of his own. the dutch pats his lap, “c’mere and give me a kiss, pretty girl.”

you rush to sit in his lap, slowing at the last minute, not wanting to sit your full weight on him. he huffs, and grabs at your hips situating you firmly on his lap, before leaning in and kissing you stupid. your gasp of shock transforms into a hum of pleasure, letting max have complete control of the kiss. his hand comes up to rest on the back of your head and moves you exactly where he wants, sucking on your bottom lip before slipping his tongue against yours. max kisses like he’s going to run out of time, he ravishes you completely. you squirm against him, pulling away to pant against his cheek needing air. max chuckles, and you only get to whine at his teasing for half a second before charles, who’s now sitting next to max, pulls you into another kiss. charles, on the other hand, kisses like he has all the time in the world, he draws it out. he keeps the kisses slow and closed in the beginning, pausing to pull away and thumb at your lips, relishing at how they’ve already swelled from max’s abuse, the surrounding skin already beginning to turn raw and sensitive from their friction of their facial hair. he continues kissing you, all tongue and sloppy not caring about about the way your hands come up to grasp at his chest in desperation, before switching to absolutely bruise your lips by nipping and tugging at them.

your hips jump forward against max’s, and he can’t stop the groan that tumbles out. you jolt away from charles’ assault and stare at max with an embarrassed expression, “s-sorry—“ max narrows his eyes and dismisses your apology, “don’t apologize for that. you feel good, you’re allowed to show that unless i tell you differently.”

“yes, max,” you answer, even though he didn’t ask a question.

“oh, you’re such a good girl for us, liefje,” he tests. and his instincts didn’t fail him. your hips twitch against his again, and a near inaudible moan slips from your lips.

he turns towards charles, “yeah, that works doesn’t it, cha?” charles nods, eyes still stuck on your lips. max smirks at charles being completely entranced, before turning back to you and clocks the glaze beginning to form over your eyes, “alright now, liefje, i need you to pay attention to me really quickly, hm?”

you hum, bobbing your head a few times, before you manage to get out a “yes, max.”

he holds your head steady with his thumb and pointer finger gripping your chin, “i’m not going anywhere, baby, take your time and focus.” it only takes you half a minute to truly focus in after your heart stops racing to give him another verbal confirmation before he continues. “tonight, neither one of us is going to make love to you—“ your shoulders drop and a frown is quick to spread across your mouth. you really only prepared for the situation that you’d tell them you were ready, and then you’d get railed into next sunday. you start to panic; maybe you came off too depraved, and he’s letting you down slowly—

“hey, hey, hey. no overthinking yet, let him finish, mon ange,” charles calls out to you worriedly, he’s experienced the same thought process you're going through before and would rather try and prevent the self-doubt from overtaking you.

max pets at your waist over the sweater and continues, “not tonight. we’ve just gotten off a flight, and had three back to back races. it’s late, and i’m sure all three of us are tired. we should initiate something like that with a clearer mind,” you feel a little selfish now, his points very valid, “but, i still want to give you an orgasm, okay? sure, you may not be able to get off by grinding on a pillow anymore. you’ve probably just acclimated to it and need to give it a break. so, to compromise: you’ll get off by riding my thigh.”

charles and max wait for your reaction. your frown lightens into a pout, but you’re disappointment doesn’t completely fade away. “how is that any different from riding the pillow? it’s the same thing.” charles laughs shakily, “oh, mon ange. you have no idea. listen to max and give it a try before you take it off the table completely.”

you shrug, and agree, “fine. how do i….uh how do i do the thigh riding, i guess?”

charles turns to look at max, wordlessly asking for permission, and max grants it with a wave of his hand. charles scoots up closer, and shifts your straddle from max’s whole lap to his right thigh. as soon as your pantie-covered cunt firmly presses on the muscle of max’s jean-clad thigh, a soft ‘oh’ croaks out of you. max flexes and relaxes his thigh once and your hips jump up and away from him. max and charles glance at each other; you’re ridiculously sensitive, they’ll have to see if that’s your natural state or if it’s just the result of your prolonged edging and the fact that you were grinding against a pillow not too long ago. charles squeezes your hips, bringing your attention to him, “i’m going to start guiding you now, you ready, mon coeur?”

“mmm, yeah—that felt really good, i want more,” you speak timidly.

“good,” charles states, and then he pulls your hips forward dragging you against max’s thigh, and a flash of heat zings up your spine. you moan, a small, breathy exhale, and charles keeps it slow at first, not pushing you down to roughly or making the motions too quick—he wants you to learn to love the friction again. barely a minute passes before your hips start fighting charles’ guided rhythm, and a frustrated groan slips out of you, not able to fight your boyfriends grip. max clocks back in from where he was watching the pleasure start to flicker on your face and asks, “what are you supposed to do, baby?”

“more-ah, please, charlie,” you moan shakily. charles smirks, “look at you, still using your manners like a good girl—“ a louder moan echoes, “okay, okay, mon coeur. i’ll get you there, i’ll get you to cum like you need, okay? i’ll make you forget all about your manners too, hmm?”

you stopped listening to anything after charles reassured you that he’s going to get you to cum, you believe him. he adjusts his grip on your hips and starts incrementally increasing the pace and pressure for you. your moans start to become more frequent, and increasing in pitch rapidly, the drivers can tell you’re hurtling towards your long-awaited orgasm, sooner than they thought. charles slowly releases his grip on your waist letting your hips take over once he’s sure you’ve gotten the hang of it. you throw your head back in pleasure, your hips have a steady grind and…and you’re feeling good. a suprised laugh slips out of your lips at that and shifts into a sharp moan when max starts flexing his thigh rhythmically giving you a little more texture to work with. max lets his heavy hands fill in for where charles’ and presses you down into deeper slower strokes.

you cry out, it’s a little too much for you, but it feels so good, that you bear with it, they know what’s best for you, anyways. max grins down at you smugly, and you start to tear up a little; he can still feel your hips twitching away from the pressure sometimes. not wanting to push you too far with that motion alone, he lightens up on the pressure but starts bouncing his thigh. the shriek you release surprises all three of you, but you don’t run from it, if anything you lean into it more. one of your hands fists into charles’ shirt for support, and the other falls to max’s, tugging it off your left hip so you can hold it tight. max’s grin softens into a small smile and he kisses your joined hands, and charles leans into press kisses on your neck, praise slipping out of their lips freely.

“doing so good for us, pretty girl.”

“yeah, baby, that’s it. take what you need.”

“don’t be shy, let those sweet moans out for us.”

“just like that, oh! look at that, you’ve leaked all over his thigh,” charles points out. max looks down and registers that his pant leg is sticking down to his thigh and the denim has darkened with the amount of wetness. “oh, yeah. look at that, baby,” max pats on the side of your face, and you can’t even recall when you screwed your eyes shut, but you look down, and a mortified squeal leaves you. not much longer and you’ll have drowned his thigh. the dutchman sucks his teeth at you, “don’t be embarrassed, liefje. i can’t wait until i can taste it straight from the source,” he moves his other hand underneath the sweatshirt, and slips two fingers between your inner thigh while gathering your wetness. he sucks on one finger moaning explicitly at your taste, before offering both fingers to charles to clean off. the monegasque flicks his tongue out teasingly tasting them first, before he makes a quick motion of sucking them in and fully running his tongue in every crevice to get every last drop of your taste.

you moans start to become pitchy little ah-ah-ah’s, and you frantically start rabbiting your hips. you’re so close. max squeezes you hand, and starts up the praise again.

“i wasn’t joking, schatje. when i finally get my mouth on your pretty little cunt, you won’t be able to pull me off of you until i force at least three orgasms out of you.”

charles pulls off of max’s fingers and adds, “i need to give her three or four from my mouth too. i don’t think she’ll be able to handle that many.”

“yes, she can. she’s such a good girl for us, she’d let us keep going until we tell her when she’s done.”

“mmm, yeah—she’s right there, look at that cute little face she’s making.”

“her pretty little o-mouth, we should fill that up for her too.”

“thinkin i’ll fill that sweet little cunt of hers first with my dick—“

what escapes your mouth is definitely a scream, and max can’t bring himself to muffle it even though it’s the middle of the night. he pays a hefty sum of money for this penthouse, they can deal with hearing how charles and him make you scream with pleasure. your orgasm completely whites-out all of your senses; ears ringing, eyes rolled back, skin feeling raw and thighs shaking. max and charles work your hips back and forth a few more times, helping you with the aftershocks until you squirm out of their hands. you fall forward into max’s chest, body trembling, and tears streaming down your face.

max cradles you close and scratches at your head, calling your name a few times to get a gauge of how out of it you are. with no verbal response, he sends charles to get water and a towel to clean you up. max softly murmurs praises at you constantly, and charles joins in with the affirmations when he returns. the both clean you up when you’re still floating; they put you in an oversized tee, not bothering with undergarments, wiping all wetness and cream away from between your legs trying to avoid looking at your cunt directly, they even manage to get your bonnet on for you, and even have time to change the duvet before you start becoming aware again.

you turn and automatically move to snuggle into the crook of max’s neck, but he gently presses a straw to your mouth so you can hydrate after the amount of fluids you seem to have lost. your eyes open, and you croak out a disapproving hum at not being able to go to sleep, and max shakes his head at you, “drink, schat. non-negotiable, pretty girl.” after slowly draining ¾ of the bottle, you pull away and with a shattered voice, start mumbling, “thank you, thank you, thank you—“

and charles leans over to cut you off with a soft press of lips, “no, thank you for letting us give you that, mon coeur.” you hum, whispering out, “i love you, charlie. i love you, maxy.”

they both respond with resounding ‘i-love-you’s back, and start soft conversation just checking up on you before they let you fall asleep.

“i’ve never felt this good before from an orgasm,” you start, “i wanna—i wanna keep being good for you guys. i wanna learn how to feel good like this again, and i want you both to show me how because i trust you. please?”. charles and max both murmur affirmatives to you, and you continue speaking softly, “you guys can take showers now, i’ll probably be asleep before you come back.” after making sure you’re truly comfortable, max and charles head to the en-suite to take the world’s speediest shower so they can cuddle up with you sooner.

shutting the door, max and charles stare at each other in completely silence. charles starts, “are we sure that we’re the ones corrupting her and she’s not corrupting us? because, i’ve almost came in my pants three times tonight.”

max stares at charles with unseeing eyes, “i will never forgot the way she soaked my fucking leg, charles…i’m pretty sure i did come in my pants.”

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 1 year

Text

a little fashion show

kinktober, day four

a/n: bro, the amount of time this idea has been in the notes app on my phone....

warnings: stiles stilinski x reader, smut, best friends to lovers, mutual pining, trying on lingerie, teasing, flashing, kissing

word count: 990

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist | kinktober 2023

“Who was at the door?” Stiles asked as your giddy form appeared in the doorway to your room once more.

“The mailman,” you giggled, unable to contain your excitement, “and look!”

“You got a package!” not getting as revved up in the excitement as you were, he nonchalantly pointed out the parcel in your palms, “oh, cool!”

“Not just any package, only the one I’ve been waiting about a billion years to arrive,” you shut the door behind you, gazing down at the bundle in your hands with heart-shaped eyes, “you don’t mind if I just try this stuff on right now, do you? I just don’t know if I can wait till you leave.”

Discretely readjusting in his comfortable seat on your mattress, he waved a hand, “no, no, it’s fine.”

“Really? Great!” you squealed, digging your fingers into the opening of the package, “you can help me see if any of it doesn’t suit me or fit right, give you a little fashion show and everything.”

“Alright, sure,” he agreed with a soft chuckle as you disappeared behind the wide bookcase that acted as a divider in the middle of your room.

After changing into the first item, you couldn’t stop yourself from springing back out, arms raised high above your head as you sang, “tada! What do you think?”

“Wow, oh, wow,” you watched Stiles eyes grow wide as they landed on the extremely short nightgown hanging around your form, “that’s-, that’s-…”

“It’s cute, isn’t it?” you turned your back to your stunned friend to glance at yourself in the mirror, “the floral pattern especially.”

Gaze tracing your hands as they played with the tiny skirt, “y-yeah, it is,” you just barely managed to catch sight of his reflection discreetly move one of your pink pillows over his lap, “it’s good, you should definitely keep that one.”

You hadn’t thought that his blush could have gotten any worse, but evidently, as you soon pranced out clad in the next thing, it very much could.

“What about this one?” you innocently observed the lingerie set in the long mirror, turning a bit to see how the high-waisted, black underwear hugged your bottom, “do you think it fits alright?”

Looking like a broken PlayStation 2 game you’d have to pull out and blow on, Stiles simply hummed, “huh?”

“I just feel like if I jump around or bend over in this, the girls are just gonna spill out,” your nose crinkled as your fingertips ghosted over the cups of the matching bra.

“I mean,” he blinked hazily, “you could test it out, if you want.”

Obliging twice, jumping gently in place, the squint to your eye didn’t fade away as not only you observed how your boobs jiggled in the cups, “hm, I don’t know, maybe one of the ones that has a different cut then this one…”

Peeping through the shy slivers of the bookcase, you bit down on your smirk as you watched the trouble you’d stirred up on the other side. As you slid off the black number, daringly arching your back and purposefully sticking your butt out far enough for him to catch a glimpse, you spotted how a string of your want clung to the panties as you dragged the down your legs.

If this last one wasn’t gonna do the trick, make the guy you’d had a crush on forever fess up and make a move, then you didn’t know what would.

Pink, skimpy and sheer, your pebbly nipples weren’t the only thing on full display as the see-through thong also made your puffy pussylips no secret to anyone.

Your pace as you returned to the mirror was purposefully slow, not looking to Stiles even once as you felt your desperation for him soak the pretty garments.

“T-that-, yeah,” his fluttering eyes were trained on your bare bottom, “that’s nice.”

“Yeah?” you still didn’t dare to look at him, “you think so?”

“Mhm,” he nearly groaned.

Grazing your touch ever so lightly over the elastic edges, you uttered, “you really think it’s pretty?”

“Y-yeah…”

“Stiles,” you sucked in a deep breath and gathered up the courage through the pumping adrenalin of being so exposed before your crush, “can I ask you something?”

“Anything,” flowed from his lips nearly instantly.

“Would you have sex with me?”

The room was dead silent a moment before Stiles choked, “what?”

“Would you fuck me?” you rephrased, still not looking back at him in the refection.

“Would I-… I’m sorry, what?”

“Would you fuck me?” gnawing at your bottom lips, you finally turned to face him, “because I kinda really like you, like a lot,” your feet slowly carried you closer to where he sat, “and I don’t know, I’m sorry, am I being too forward? Is this too much? Do you not like me in that way? Because I totally get it if you do, I’m really sorry for everything. I thought you’d picked up on the hints I’ve been dropping for a while now and that you-”

“I do like you!” he rushed to cut off your concern, “I-I-, yes,” seizing your hand in his as he emphasized, “yes.”

“Yes or yes?” you asked, eyes flickering to the pillow hiding his own excitement.

“Yes,” he nodded, swiftly tugging you down in his lap before you could withdraw your proposal.

An airy whimper escaped your lips as he then kissed you, your whole body feeling like puddy in his grasp. Drawing back a moment from his long-awaited pecks, you found yourself offering bashfully, “you know, I could also just give you a handjob or blow you or something if you’re not-”

Using his leverage, he suddenly flung you down against the mattress, effectively cutting your suggestion off as he scurried to hover above you, an earnest grin adorning his lips as he then exclaimed “oh my god, just shut up and let me screw my best friend.”

#lea’s writing #kinktober 2023 #stiles stilinski smut #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinksi imagine #teen wolf smut #teen wolf imagine #dylan o'brian x reader #dylan o'brian imagine #stiles x reader #stiles x y/n #stiles smut #dylan obrien fanfic #dylan o'brien smut #dylan o’brien fanfiction #dylan o’brien smut #dylan o’brien imagine #dylan o'brien imagine #stiles stilinksi fanfiction

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textmel8r · 5 months

Text

[ DRABBLE ] 𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 ! ( fourth installment ) in which you are forced to plan a corporate event with your office enemy .

୨୧˚ part; one. two. three. four. five. six. seven. eight. nine. ten. eleven.

୨୧˚ incl; kento nanami

୨୧˚ cw; smut (?) , dub-con , alcohol consumption , profanity

( flashback; ) Wreaths and holly plants decked the usually barren, white walls of the seventh floor office level, and soft Christmas music looped on the overhead speaker in attempts to induce a jolly spirit. Colleagues conversed, discussing plans for December break over plastic cups of spiked cider. Everyone seemed in high morale; even Gakuganji, who donned a cheaply made Santa suit, still wrinkled from its time being folded in a package. Your first ever office party was about as much as you expected–not the worst time, but certainly not the best time, either. It didn’t help that you were still technically the “newbie” despite having been a member of the company for a few months at that point. Man, it was hard to make friends in an office full of stoic suits.

You remain near a far wall, slumped against the oversized copy machine with a drink in hand. Nobody had even appreciated your dress; a modest crimson thing with white, cottony trims to mimic Old Saint Nick. Figures. You pout into your cup, knocking back a heavy swig.

“Woah-ho, you sure went all out.”

The dialogue was unexpected and you sputter on a swallow of liquor, startled. A preemptive hand pats your back, something like a mother trying to burp a newborn. You swallow your spit at last, recollect yourself, and whip your head up to follow the source of the voice that nearly killed you. There stood a man tall and spindly in his stature with the most beautifully long, goldish hair drawn back into a ponytail. He is dressed down, wearing a simple pair of dark jeans and a sweater in favor of the suits nearly everyone else sported.

“You shouldn’t sneak up on ladies,” comes your meager reply. Your free hand smooths down the skirt of your dress, and you clear your throat. “You scared the shit out of me.”

The man smiles apologetically. “Ah, I noticed. My bad.”

“It’s okay. Just… just don’t do it again.”

“Roger that.” He has his own drink, and you manage to catch a glimpse of it over the rim of the solo cup. It’s a dark, murky color, much more amberish than the cider that was being served. “I haven’t seen your face around before, it made me curious.”

“I secured a position here during spring.” Now that you think about it, he was unfamiliar to you as well. You would have definitely remembered that ponytail. “Are you–I mean, do you work in this building?”

He shakes his head. “Nah, they got me holed up in the Shibuya location,” he winks, leaning in. “I make it a habit to come to all the office parties, though. I can’t resist a little holiday cheer.” Two bony knuckles move to brush delicately against the trim of your dress. “I’m Haruta Shigemo, and you’re…?”

“Not interested.”

Shigemo juts his bottom lip out. “C’mon, don’t be like that. I can’t know your name?”

Holding an index finger to your chin, you pretend to think about it. “What will you give me in return?”

A smirk worms its way onto Shigemo’s thin lips. He angles his hip toward you and pulls up the hem of his knitted sweater, gesturing to the uncanny flask half sticking out of his jeans’ pocket. “I brought good stuff,” he sings quietly, away from prying ears, and suddenly you understand the reason for his drink being a couple shades too dark. “And I’m good at sharing.”

Yeah, maybe it wasn’t the wisest decision to accept unknown liquor from a virtual stranger, you should’ve really considered all of the possible outcomes to this situation. You’d already had a little over two cups of warmed cider, rotating on the axis between tipsy and full on drunkenness. Your foggy brain didn’t care much to think about how some of this so-called “good stuff” would only lead to an inevitable, total inebriation. Or, a less likely but just as concerning scenario, Shigemo’s flask could be chock full of poison. Either way, you were itching to turn a less-than-okay party experience into a fun one.

“Y/n L/n,” you said finally, and Shigemo looks pleased. Strategically as to not give away the secret, he stood before you and widened his shoulders to create a makeshift cover while he poured a solid few glugs from flask to your cup. Immediately, the booze reeks of something strong like industrial glass cleaner. Your nose wrinkles as the stench singes the hair from your nostrils. “Smells fucking rancid.”

“Maybe you’re just not used to top shelf liquor?” Was that a dig? You’ll show him that you’re plenty accustomed with expensive booze (you’re not. not at all).

So you drank it. The taste of piss mixed with vinegar nearly made you retch, but after your second glass and an assload of determination, it started to taste… good? Maybe this Shigemo guy wasn’t too bad. The rest of the night was a blur of silly dancing to dumb Christmas songs, ugly laughing at the horse calendars pinned to the wall, and… well, the bathroom.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” Your tone was breathy, a cross between giggly and pure apprehension. There in the men’s restrooms, you were perched up on the sink counter. That festive dress was slipped up around your hips by two slender, greedy hands, and a tiny waist worked between your thighs. Shigemo kissed you into silence.

“Why not?” He kisses you again, fumbling with his belt buckle. He’s nipping down your neck, whispering, “The risk is so fucking hot.”

And oh goodness, was he a man on a mission. Tearing the collar of your dress down beneath your breasts, fingering holes into your sheer stockings, stuffing a fist inside your panties… You were in no state of coherence to stop him.

Had it not been a professional obligation on his part to attend this year’s Christmas party, Nanami finds himself fantasizing about all the ways he’d much rather be spending this brisk winter evening. Probably soaking in his tub, nursing a glass of red wine and working on that book he’d been putting off thanks to the ungodly amount of work on his plate as of late. Then, he’d exercise those cooking skills he seldom had time to use and prepare a meal that had much more to offer than these feeble, sugary snacks at this party. Seriously? Cookies and cake? They were adults for goodness sake.

The floor was stuffy and claustrophobia-inducing. Everywhere he turned, Nanami was accidentally bumping somebody with his shoulder or his elbow or some other limb he lost track of. And the conversations were abysmal. Nanami has always been good with his words—he had to be in a profession like this—but Christ, talking to his zombies-for-coworkers was a worse fate than death itself. They drone on about office assignments, about deadlines and paperwork with no hint of light behind their eyes. Is that what he looks like to others? A worrisome thought, that Nanami was just as much of a slave to the corporate world as they were.

The deep train of thought is cut off before it spirals when red catches his eye. A dress red as rubies sticks out like a sore thumb among the sea of blacks and blues and grays of suits. You’re dressed in a silly get up, like those Mrs. Claus actresses in the malls that take pictures with children. Y/n L/n, Nanami recalls your name. He knows you, the newest employee in the office. He’s had very few chances to speak with you, and when he did it mostly consisted of him relaying orders from Mr. Gakuganji. But even in those brief instances, Nanami saw it plain as day: you were different. The first lively fool he’d seen in a while, eyes still glinting with the prospects of optimism and naive hope for the future. Foolish indeed, but he couldn’t bring himself to hate it. You were a breath of fresh air, but Nanami knew that it was only a matter of time before you were beaten and battered into another mindless cog in the corporation's machine.

A strange urge bloomed within the hollows of the man's chest; an urge that told him to initiate communication with you. Perhaps just a "hello" at the very least, seeing as you were his direct subordinate. It was the polite thing to do, right? Or maybe that was just a weak excuse he convinced himself of because Nanami didn't want to admit that you intrigued him in every sense of the word. You would provide an interesting back and forth, something Nanami desperately craved in the throes of this tedious party.

Golden eyes scanned the room. But no matter how long and meticulous he stared into the mass of bodies, Nanami could not locate the shade of red that had incited this search to begin with. There was a muted pit of disappointment the settled heavy in his stomach when he came to the realization that you simply were gone. He didn't doubt the probability that you ditched, no, he'd commend you for doing something he could not. Nanami sighs under his breath, lets his shoulders droop, and takes the last swig of his drink (water of course, the spiked cider was much too sweet for his tastes) before maneuvering through the crowd towards the bathroom. A five minute breather alone in a stall sounded like Heaven on Earth.

He shouldered through the metallic door, eyes closed, fingers tugging the knot of his too-tight tie as he stepped inside the restrooms. Only the sound of a feminine gasp was what pried his heavy eyelids open.

All three bodies froze: Nanami by the entrance with a slack jaw and wide eyes, a man he vaguely recalls from the Shibuya district stood between a pair of opened legs with his jeans tugged down to mid-thigh, and you. You, with your stupidly red dress in disarray, the neckline dipped below your bare breasts and the lower hem bunched up around the curve of your waistline. There you were, sitting up on the sink completely exposed... God, that bastard's hand was still buried down the front of your panties.

As if time suddenly unfroze, said bastard rips his hands away from your most delicate parts in favor of pulling his jeans back up. Nanami blinks once before cocking his head to the side at the unnatural speed of light, focusing on the faux plant in the corner, the uneven tiles beneath his dress shoes, the cracks in the eggshell paint on the wall... anything besides your indecent self.

"Whoops, would ya' look at that?" Shibuya fucker laughs halfheartedly as he fumbles with the button on his jeans, flustered and giggly. "Guess we got a little carried away there, my bad man!" He slinks towards the door, towards Nanami, but pauses. "Hey, you're Nanami Kento, right?"

"Yes." It's a cold response. Nanami doesn't look to the other man, instead he keeps his eyes trained down as to not get another eyeful of you.

"Aha right! Well," Shibuya fucker sweatdrops, clasping a hand over Nanami's shoulder. "Let's keep this a secret from the higher ups?"

The elder grimaces. "Please don't touch me."

The hand is ripped away. Shibuya fucker shows his palms in sort of a defensive stance as more anxious chuckles erupt from his throat. "Good seeing you, then!" And with that, he slips out of the bathroom leaving you high and dry. The prick didn't even bother to stay and help you get recollected.

"I'm decent." You sound meek, a tone Nanami has yet to hear from you thus far. It sounds small. Humiliated. "You... you can look now."

So he does, only to regret it. There you are, hopped off the sink and standing before him in a pitiful display. Your slender neck was tainted with love marks, darkened bruises bit into flesh with little artistry. Your stockings were shredded carelessly, bits of plumpness squishing through the holes. Your hair was mussed, forehead sweaty, lipstick smeared and... why was Nanami so irritated by the sight?

"What..." He starts, trying to find the words. "What is the matter with you?"

You gawk. "Nothing."

"Nothing." Nanami scoffs, hands pressed to his hips. "How careless could you possibly be? Fucking at a work event? I mean, for fuck's sake Y/n."

"I'm sorry, okay?" Your words are clipped. As if you have any right to catch an attitude with him right now.

"Sorry doesn't change the fact that you..." His sentence trails off into a tiny, frustrated growl scratching from the back of his tongue. The man takes his nose bridge between his thumb and forefinger. "The door was unlocked. Anyone could've walked in and saw you like that!" Exposed. Bare. Vulnerable.

"I don't know what else you want to hear other than sorry." Nanami doesn't miss the microscopic vocal crack in the word sorry. You hug yourself tight, forearms crossed over your chest. Your shoulders stutter, and your lips are sucked between your teeth to hide the wobble in them. "I'm... sorry."

You dress strap hangs off your shoulder. Nanami can't peel his gaze away from the strip of fabric. He takes a slow step in, gauging your reaction to it. You don't show any signs of discomfort, so he advances closer. The red strap is dainty against his rough fingers, so he cautions himself to be extra gentle when slipping it back up into place.

"Thanks," you sniffle.

He shushes you. Nanami isn't done yet, far from it. You still look disheveled and sad and weepy and he can't fucking stomach it for some ungodly reason. So he gets to work, first wetting a paper towel in the bathroom sink—the same one you'd been getting groped on a mere few minutes prior—and gingerly swipes away the smeared makeup from your kiss-swollen lips. Then, he's taking it upon himself to straighten out your hair. You let him stroke down your baby hairs without pushback, limply letting him rearrange your appearance as if you were some sort of life sized doll.

Nanami steps back to admire his work. The evidence of foreplay was nearly gone, save for the dreadful state of your stockings and those ugly teeth-shaped indents down the side of your neck. “Take those stockings off before you leave the bathroom,” he utters. “They look…” Slutty is the word that comes to mind first, but he’d never say it aloud. So he leaves it at that.

You’re looking at him with an unreadable expression. If anything, Nanami discerns a little concern in the way your brows turn upwards. “Are you going to tell anyone about this?”

He wants to oh so bad. To be the lame tattletale and snitch to Mr. Gakuganji because fraternization is wrong, and fraternization in the workplace is double wrong. “I should report you,” there’s a pregnant pause, “but I won’t.”

Why? He asks himself.

You seemed to have read his thoughts. “Why?”

Nanami doesn’t have an answer to that. Where is this slice of mercy coming from? All he knows for certain is that staring at the trembling woman in front of him any longer will have him blow a fuse. “Go home, Y/n.” It’s the last thing he offers before turning on his heel and walking back out into the Christmas function, swallowing down each and every confusing feeling swirling around his brain.

likes and reblogs are appreciated !

tags . • @justbelljust @amnmich @ti-mame @silkija @maddietries @vyntagei @ebrysteria @aesukuni

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sugume · 8 months

Text

COMING HOME TO YOU w/Jujutsu Kaisen

More: Fem!Reader. Soft JJK boys have my heart. Toji is stern and suggestive ‘cus he can’t help himself. unedited.

Featuring: Nanami Kento, Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru & Toji Fushiguro

☾ NANAMI KENTO

Nanami lets out a long sigh as soon as he steps into your shared apartment. Today felt never-ending and he was glad to finally be back home. He just wanted to eat whatever leftovers you left for him and then dive head-first into your arms and never leave. After he hangs his suit jacket up, he walks into the kitchen and as predicted, when he opens the fridge he sees a plastic Tupperware with a small note that says ‘Hurry up and eat, I need my cuddles’ he smiles for what feels like the first time since he left you this morning–it probably was. As the note says, he quickly eats as much as he can stomach before cleaning up after himself and heading towards the bedroom. He thought of taking a quick shower before hopping in bed but the thought immediately leaves his mind when he see’s how comfortable and soft you look. Head on his side of the bed and comforter wrapped around your waist, you looked like an angel, specially made for him. Stripping down to his boxers he slowly crawls into bed, careful not to wake you. Once he’s settled it doesn't take long for you to subconsciously move yourself halfway on his chest. “Goodnight beautiful, I love you.” He whispers into the dark before planting a kiss on your forehead.

☾ GOJO SATORU

You look up from your phone, trying to catch a glimpse of white hair for what feels like the hundredth time. Where is he? He was supposed to be home by now and your start to worry that something went wrong. He hasn;t answered any of your texts either. You start to type out another text before you feel a pair of strong arms wrap around your torso and a hard stomach press into your back. “Hi, Love.” He whispers in your ear. “Toru!” You jump in surprise, before turning around and throwing your arms around him. Satoru wraps his arms around your middle once again, squeezing you so hard you start to weeze. “Sorry I didn’t answer your texts, phone died and theri was an accident in the freeway” He whispers into you next before catching your lips. “Don’t worry ‘bout that Toru, ‘m just glad you made it home safely. Love you.” You mumble against his lips. He smiles. “I love you to pretty girl. You miss me today?” You peck him again before nodding. “So much.” “I missed you too.” He grins, walking the two of you backwards. “I know you did, you text me every hour ‘bout how much you miss me.” “Can’t blame be pretty girl, I want to be in your skin,” he leans down to kiss your nose, “Now what should we make for dinner, hm?”

☾ GETO SUGURU

Suguru felt as if world was punishing him, it had to be. After a week-long mission away from his favorite person, all he wanted was to come home and get some much-needed couple time. But the world must hate him because you weren’t there when he got home, matter of fact he doesn’t know where the hell you are. You haven’t answered your phone the entire time 20 minutes he’s been home. Just as he was about to call you for the ninth time, he heard the door unlock and a few seconds later he saw your figure emerge from the small corridor. “Sugu?” You jump back in surprise. “Where were you?” He shouts before flinching at the sound of his voice. He didnt mean to shout, he was just worried. “Down in the lobby, helpin’ some old lady bring a few packages upstairs” You frown. Suguru cusses inwardly before walking up to you and pulling you into his warm chest. “Didn’t mean to yell sweet girl, jus’ was worried ‘bout you, you werent answering my calls n’ I thought something bad happened. I’m sorry.” He rubs small circles into the small of your back. “S’okay and i didnt answer my phone because I left it in the apartment.” You explain, relaxing into your boyfriends chest. “I didn’t know you were coming home today?” You change the subject. Looking up at Suguru. He had dark eyebags underneath half clothed eyes. He looked like hell. “Me either, thought I’d was staying for atleast another week, but we got down earlier than expected.” He mumbles as he cups the side of your head. You stare up at him and smile. He leans down to catch your soft lips. “Missed you,” he whispers before capturing your tongue. “Missed you s’much, baby.”

☾ TOJI FUSHIGURO

“Babe?” Toji shouts as he looks for you around the house. “m’ in here!” You yell back from the living room and Toji sighs in relief as his feet carry him to you. He’s been waiting all day to see you and almost drops to his knees when he sees you smiling up at him from the couch. “Hi baby, how was work?” You open the blanket you are under, inviting him in. He drops his entire body onto you. “Was okay, uneventful as always.” He playfully bites your next before leaving his head to kiss your pouty lips. “You miss me sweet thing?” “Missed you s’much I thought I was gonna come up there and beat your boss if he made you stay overtime again.” He laughs. “I was gonna kill him if he kept me there for another hour too.” He caresses your face before gripping your jaw. You blink up at him. “What did you spend your day doing lazy girl?” “Napped and scrolled on social media all day, as always.” “As always.” He micks before capturing your lips again. You moan when he starts grinding into you. “Missed that too.”

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b0ng05 · 6 months

Text

Sam Carpenter x F! Reader - Mornings Like This MDNI 18+

Word Count: 2013

Prompt: Sam Carpenter and her girlfriend being silly and making breakfast.

Warnings: Strap-on, a little bit of degradation, poor jokes I wrote in when I was stoned.

Also, not Proofread. Masterlist

I woke up to a crack of light peering through my curtains. The light blinding my eyes for a few seconds as I rub the sting away. I take a deep breath, stretching out my stiff limbs. As I arch my body in an ‘Excorcist’ type way, I catch a glimpse of Sam sleeping beside me. She laid on her stomach, a pillow tucked between her arms and head. Her dark hair sprawled out wildly along the pillowcase. A bit of drool pooling from her chin to the fabric as she slept. Half of the covers thrown from her body, assumably from her getting too warm at night. Most of her back on display as she usually slept in her sports bras, last night being no acception. I smile as I begin to climb out of bed, deciding to wake up Sam with breakfast, despite my poor cooking skills. As I stand up, the fluffy covers fall from my body, leaving me cold. Being too lazy to search the floor for my shirt, I walked to the kitchen. The cold air didn’t end in my bedroom, the thin fabric of my bra not doing much for my temperature.

I walked over to the cupboard, grabbing out a pan and two plates. I grabbed out the bacon and eggs from the fridge. I decide to start on the bacon first, knowing that I sucked at multitasking. Cutting open the package, I throw some bacon on the pan, hearing the initial sizzle and smiling, thinking about how great a cook I am. What I didn’t think about was what the sizzle meant. Within a few minutes, I’m being shot with bacon grease. Every second was me hissing in pain and cussing out the bacon for being such a rude bitch. With each insult, the bacon fought back, for each cuss, a shot of bacon grease to the tit.

“We have shirts, and aprons. You are aware of that right?” I hear a raspy teasing chuckle from behind me, and the feeling of strong arms wrapping around my bare waist. I smile as I feel her lips pressing against my neck in a tired yet loving way. “I’m aware, but I was gonna bring you this in bed, and then ask for you to kiss my bacon burns better.” I tease back, leaning into her touch as I use the tongs to take out some of the finished pieces. “Oh really? And where are these bacon burns?” Sam playfully pokes my side, her voice filled with sleep. I giggle and turn off the stove top as I finish up cooking. “Got a lot on my boobs,” I tease, not missing the mischevious glint in Sam’s eyes as they drift down to my chest. I playfully slap her shoulder, “My eyes are up here,” I tease, Sam chuckles, kissing my cheek. “ Also, what are you even doing up this early? I wanted to surprise you.” I pout up at her, trying to fight a grin that pricked my lips. “Well, I heard you cussing out the bacon. Did you seriously call the bacon, ‘Fucking whore, bitchwad’? What does that even mean?” Sam grins, her eyebrow quirking up. I sheepishly look up at the ceiling, which was a mistake due to Sam’s taller height. She easily grabs my chin, tilting my face towards her, my cheeks a blushing red. “Listen- the bacon just isn’t cool like that.” I sigh, smiling as I hear her laugh. “God, you’re a dork.” Sam whispers and pauses before kissing me. Her lips pressing against mine in a soft loving way. We pull apart, our foreheads pressing against each others. She lets out a content sigh before whispering softly,

“Please let me finish cooking. That bacon didn’t do anything wrong,” She peeks her eyes open, a mischievous smirk on her lips. “Oh woww, seriously taking the bacon’s side?” I let out a playful scoff, glaring up at her. “There was no witness to testify otherwise,” Sam quipped, a grin on her lips as she slips one of the aprons out of the drawer, tying it around her body. “The red skin on my tits says otherwise!” I huff, taking my seat on the countertop. Sam smirks and holds out her hand for the spatula that sat beside me, I playfully and passive aggressive pass her the spatula with a heavy sigh. “Oh really~? Care to let me see the evidence, preferably in full view, minus the bra.” She hums, glancing at me with a grin. I playfully roll my eyes, playing into her little game. “I actually might need you to do it. Wouldn’t it be corrupting evidence if you let the plaintiff do such a thing?” I giggle, leaning back against the cupboards as I watch Sam cook the eggs.

“Oh, very good point. I think you’re right. Let me just-” Sam smirks, turning off the burner before stepping between my legs. Her hands caressing my thighs, “May I~?” She teases, lifting one hand to snap one strap of my bra. “Go ahead, find the evidence,” I tease, giggling a bit. Sam bites her bottom lip as she slips my bra over my head. She pauses, licking her lips as she eyes my bare chest. “I don’t see any marks yet,” Sam playfully teases. I smirk, running one of my hands through her hair. “What do you mean yet? I already cooked the bac-” My breath hitches as she leans down, her tongue tracing along my breast before she sucks down, her eyes looking up into mine as she leaves a hickey on my chest. Her tongue running along the red mark soothingly before she kisses the spot. “Now we can sue the bacon,” I joke, looking at the mark on my chest. “How? I made it.” Sam chuckled, her hand moving up to grope at my chest. “Haven’t you ever heard of faking evidence, with a blind and senial enough jury, we could totally have a lawsuit on our hands.” I giggle, leaning in to kiss her jaw. Sam laughs, her other hand trailing my spine. “Remind me to never let you be my lawyer.” Sam nods, leaning in to kiss my collarbone. “Hey! I’d be a great lawyer, I’m pro-bono!” I laugh, Sam’s kisses end abruptly as she chuckles. “Oh really? You’d take my case for free?” Sam teases, moving her hands to playfully squeeze my waist. “Of course.” I nod, ”And I’m feeling especially pro-bono at the moment, so if you take me back to our room, I will take your case, and I’ll take it so well.” I tease, my tone both on the verge of laughing and still trying to drift seductive.

“How big of a case are we talking here~?” Sam teases back, lifting me off the counter as she begins to walk us back to our room. “5 month long trial, 7 month, 10 if I’m feeling a bit ambitious-” I laugh, leaning in to kiss her neck. “If you’re this pro-bono, should I be worried about other clientel?” Sam teases, gently laying me on the bed and pining me down. My hands tangled up with one of hers near the pillows. “I’m more of a private personal lawyer, you know you’re my one and only client.” I whisper, leaning up to kiss her neck. “Good girl,” She smirks, “Stay put,” She demands, before getting out of the bed and walking to our closet. After a minute, she comes out naked, with a 7 inch strap around her hips. She saunters up to the bed, standing at the foot as I look at her helplessly, my thighs clenching as she smirks down at me. “Now,” She moves to loom over me, “I don’t intend to waste the breakfast you so kindly started for me, so I’m gonna go fast, and you’re gonna take it like the good girl you are,” Sam whispers, gently biting my neck as her hands move to tug down my shorts and panties. I shiver as the cold air of the room reaches my core with Sam spreading my legs. She reaches down, running her fingers along my slit before slipping two into my core with ease. Her fingers showing no mercy as she begins speeding her movements, her thumb playing with my clit. She smirks down at me, watching as I use all my willpower to keep my hands above my head where she left them.

“Taking my fingers so well~” She whispers, kissing along my neck. The heat in my core begins to build, but before I can reach a satisfying release, she pulls her fingers from my core. “Let’s see how well you can take my cock,” She teases, her hand, wet with my juices, reaches down and jerks the silicon dildo, spreading my slick along it. She positions the head at my entrance, pushing in with no hesitation. My mouth falls into a silent cry as she stretches me out, each inch writhing my body with pleasure. My hands accidentally leave the pillow, clutching around her shoulders. As she bottoms out inside me, she gives me a second to get used to the intrusion. “What did I say?” She hums, grabbing my hands and pining them back down with one hand. She gives a particularly harsh thrust at the disobedience. I let out a loud moan, the stretch aching a bit, but the pleasure far overrode it. “T-to stay put,” I mumble, to which she leans down and gently bites at my chest. “I can’t hear you, honey,” Sam whispers. I let out a soft moan as she attaches her lips around my nipple, her tongue swirling around it. Her hips slowly and gently swirling as she hums, waiting for an answer. “To stay put,” I say through a breathy moan. She chuckles softly, her free hand groping at my other breast as her mouth moves to kiss my neck. “Are you gonna stay put or am I gonna have to let that breakfast go to waste?” Sam teases, being to thrust at a slightly faster pace, but nothing to push me anywhere close near the edge. “I’ll be a good girl, Sammy,” I whisper, my tone a bit desperate as I bite down on my lower lip. My eyes drifting to where our bodies connect. Watching as she begins to thrust faster, the sight of her sinking her strap deep inside me. Her hand moves from my breast to my chin, making me meet her eyes as she speeds up. “You like seeing me wreck you baby~?” Sam smirks, her tone a bit breathless. Her eyes a dark with lust as she goes harder, making me let lose a whorish moan. “Of course you do,” She lets out a soft groan as angle rub the strap back against her clit. “Such a slut for me, such a good fucking girl,” Sam growls, giving a harsh thrust with each statement. Pulling out till just the head was at my entrance before thrusting fully back in. Leaving me breathless and writhing beneath her as I hold her hand with mine above my head. “Gonna cum, Sammy~!” I moan loudly, my thighs beginning to tremble with the force and pleasure of her thrusts. “Cum for me, baby,” Sam lifts one of my legs onto her shoulder and increases her pace, letting out soft grunts and groans as the strap rubs better against her clit at the new angle. “Be a good girl and cum on my strap.” I let out a loud moan as the heat in my stomach explodes, my cunt pulsing around her strap as she fucked me through my orgasm. I tug my hands from her grasp and wrap them around her shoulders. “How about I order breakfast?” Sam suggests sedutively, still a bit breathless. I let out a small chuckle and smirk up at her mischeviously, “What? Pro-bono?” I joke with a giggle, but that’s ended quickly when Sam presses the strap deeper, making me all the more aware of my current place.

#sam carpenter #samantha carpenter #sam carpenter x reader #sam carpenter x female reader #samantha carpenter x reader #sam carpenter x y/n #sam carpenter x you #sam carpenter smut

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sanakimohara · 8 months

Text

“SUREAL SATISFACTION” K. S. Pt. 2

…part 2. I keep my promises. 🖤 I MIGHT write a pt 3..not to sure about that yet....

[ MDNI ]

++++++++

"…and then sign here for this one." The delivery man held out his iPad for you, resting the electronic pen in your hand with a smile, and despite your nerves running rampant, you flashed one back before scribbling letters that somewhat resembled Seungmin's name.

It wasn't perfect, but it was good enough for you.

"Alright, thank you, miss. Have a wonderful evening." He took his belongings, rushing down the hall before you could utter a word back, and left you alone with your package in your arms while Seungmin's box lay at your feet.

You stared down at the flat, medium-sized box, curious about what was inside but uncomfortable asking or analyzing it for clues.

It was his package, which meant it was his business and certainly not yours.

Open it. Seungmin won't notice. Just one peek won't hurt…

A tiny voice in your head begged you to open it, chanting question after question as you picked it up with your free hand, but you ignored the twinge of curiosity to focus on your purchase.

"Sign for it."

That's all he had asked you to do…

However, when you set Seungmin's box on the kitchen island, you noted how heavy it felt. Whatever was in there had some weight to it.

The sound of metal jingling inside indicated multiple items were enclosed, too. These were small details….but they were enough to make you stare at it for a while longer, more curious than ever, but ultimately decided to stamp out your temptation to pry with the eagerness to glimpse your package instead.

You left the kitchen, heading straight for your room and shutting yourself inside before sitting in the middle of your bed with the large box. There wasn't a single label on it, the shipping stamp was strategically hidden at the bottom, and the clear tape holding it all together was layered at least twice.

You thanked whatever higher power there was that Seungmin was still out because if he'd been at home, you would've never gotten past the kitchen without hearing questions from the older. He'd pester you just for fun; gaining a personal moment of entertainment from you was his favorite pastime, and though you tried to ignore his callous comments, you'd always engage in his antics.

For now, he was gone, and you were slightly relieved. No chance of interruptions, guilt, or teasing from him.

Wasting no more time, you grabbed your pastel-colored pocket knife from your nightstand, flipping it open before slicing it through the tape. "Holy…sh- wow.." you whispered in disbelief as you opened the box, an intricate machine neatly folded inside with added accessories and rope set on top of it, taking your breath away. You had prepared yourself to feel shameful -at least a sense of remorse- about having to buy an automatic sex toy -complete with bindings and remote. But not a slither of those emotions were felt.

Elation.

That's what coursed through you.

You were beyond happy, grateful even, and the grin on your face as you unpacked everything made it obvious.

With everything laid out on your bed, the box long discarded somewhere in your dimly lit room, and the instruction booklet in your hands, you started to put it together.

Every direction was followed to the letter, and thirty minutes later, you were done. "That was way easier than I thought…" you mumbled to yourself, slowly stripping your clothes off and getting comfortable on the bed. You sat up for a couple of seconds, rerunning the setup instructions in your head just in case you needed to free yourself suddenly. Then, when you were confident unbinding yourself wouldn't be a problem, you started tying the restraints.

You bound your wrists first, pulling the rope around them tight with your teeth before you tied your ankles to their respective cuffs. You relaxed then, lying back into your warm covers with a soft sight as you nibbled on your bottom lip. The remote was clasped tightly in your left hand, covered in the same silicone material that the dildo was -except it wasn't drenched in cold, clear lubricant.

Do I really want to do this? You asked yourself, eyes sliding closed as you tried to weigh your options, but then the memory of Seungmin scandalously moaning your name -knowing full well you could hear him….and the sloppy sounds of his cock fucking his fist to the thought of you…

That was enough motivation for you.

It was all you needed.

"Fuck it…." You hiss, giving up on logic as the events of last night corrupt your brain, reminding you precisely who and what was making you do such vile things in the first place.

"Click"

The remote buzzed to life as you hit the large 'start' button in the middle, prompting the artificial cock to press straight past your folds, and the stretch it inflicted on your cunt had your mouth falling open to let out a lazy moan. Maybe it was the lack of sex for nearly a month or the fact that you could only imagine Seungmin sinking into you the same way, but the usual pain that came with forceful entry drifted to pleasure unnaturally fast for you.

You knew it was the latter reason, his name tumbling off your tongue like a soft song the longer you fucked yourself. Your body was trembling, collecting a cold sweat as the fleshy cock tapped against your cervix, slowing and quickening its pace based on how many times you tapped the arrows on the remote.

Moments. It took mere moments for your slippery walls to tighten around the dildo, covering it with a thick glaze of cum. You couldn't utter a word as the overpowering orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, causing your toes to curl and your hands to shake so bad that you dropped the remote. You should've panicked then but were perpetually stuck on the rise of another climax as the toy remained on.

Coming once should be enough….

One… I only need to come once.

That's what you tried to convince yourself as your hips rolled to fuck your cunt harder onto the contraption. It felt too gratifying to stop; the sound of your wet cunt being split open echoed around the room, mixing with your high-pitched moans, and the combination pulled you further from reality. Every time you came -which went uncounted after the third time- Seungmin was present in your fuzzy train of thought.

The heat of his hands when he grabbed your hips to move past you in a tight space. That infamous smirk he'd give you during tidbit arguments and how his voice lowered when he addressed you by those pet names you hated but counted the seconds between him repeating them.

All the minuscule praises he'd give you at the oddest moments, followed by his eyes rolling when you didn't accept his compliments….

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

"I'm going out tonight. I'll be back late, so don't wait up for me."

He gave you a once-over stare, licking his lips as you sauntered around your apartment, "Have fun, pretty girl. I'll still be here when you get back."

You scoffed, resisting the urge to smile at his chaste flirting, "I know I'm pretty Min. You don't have to remind me…"

Seungmin chuckled, eyes fixated nowhere near your face as you slipped on your heeled boots. "I'll remind you as much as I want, sweetheart…" he retorts matter of factly.

You roll your eyes, fighting back a blush as you stand and head for the door. Seungmin's gaze burns into your backside right up until you slam the front door behind you.

"Bye, baby!" He yells loud enough for you to hear down the hall, and you groan before shouting back, "I am not your baby, Kim Seungmin!" And like clockwork, you can hear his laugh echoing in the apartment.

"You will be soon," he mumbled as the sounds of your heels clicking down the hall faded.

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

His laugh is always condescending but oh so sweet. He gets away with so much, insults you when it suits his mood, and you get off to it like some twisted fiend.

Even now, with your nerves on fire and your core ramping up another coil of pleasure. You imagined the pure delight Seungmin would get from teasing you.

The thought brought a tired smile to your face as your head pressed back into the pillows, your back arching slightly while the knot in your stomach slipped loose, and the sound of his name vibrated the air around you as dribbles of cum leaked from your entrance.

"Seungmin…" you whined loudly, on the verge of cringing from overstimulation, and your body reflexively writhing away from the dildo. There was no escape from it, and you were too dazed to untie yourself to reach for the remote and hit 'pause.'

It's been so long.

You couldn't bring yourself to end it so soon….

God, you should've thought because the sound of Seungmin's heavy footsteps as he shouted, "What do you need, sweetheart? I just got home…" in response to you calling his name had you panicking within seconds.

Was he back?!??? Since when?!? How did I not hear him?….fuck fuck fuck!….

You were torn between yelling at him to not come in and reaching for the tiny remote that had fallen to the floor. Either option would take a toll on your already fucked out state, but unfortunately for you, Seungmin had pushed your door open just as you made a decision.

You groaned in embarrassment as he stared down at you, emotionless and unmoving. You stared back at him through the fallen strands of your hair, swallowing a whimper as your gaze met his, and your pussy pulsing harder around the toy at the sight of him.

Seungmin didn’t utter a word for a solid minute, contemplating if what he was seeing was real and trying his best not to climb on top of you and replace the shitty excuse for a cock so he could fuck you right himself.

He only snapped out of his daze when he saw your soft and slightly swollen lips move to speak to him.

"Please…Min…could you…help me?" Your purring tone flipped a switch in Seungmin, dragging a heavy breath from the man as he slowly walked over to the edge of your bed. You gazed up at him with puppy dog eyes, hoping he'd take a little pity on you and end the tortuous embarrassment you felt without question.

"Min, please…just-just turn it off…nd' I'll explain-" He shook his head, chuckling in disbelief as you begged for his help, "Help you?" He repeats your question, eyes going dark as you nod in response, "Yes…" you mumble.

Seungmin turns his head, a smile plastered on his face as he watches the dildo plunge in and out of your dripping cunt, each thrust causing your thighs to tremble, and he feels a twinge of jealousy knowing he's not the cause of the reaction instead.

"No." He flat-out refuses your request, and your heart drops. "W-what why? Min, please-"You attempt to reason with him but choke on your words as he clasps a hand over your mouth and trails the other down the center of your body.

You wriggle under his touch, eyes flickering from his face to the hand inching towards your puffy clit. Seungmin places a knee on your bed, leaning closer to your spread form as he greedily studies its fluctuations. Your breasts draw his attention first, gently swaying as you squirm in his hold, but his focus quickly shifts to your cunt as he circles two fingers around your budding clit.

You jolt from the added friction, eyes rolling to the back of your head when he lightly slaps your bundle of nerves before returning to rubbing it slowly. His pants grow tighter as your muffled cries switch between excited moans and shaky screams.

A smile tugs at his lips, ears prickling with satisfaction, and his cock twitching the louder you get. "You sound so much prettier moaning like bitch in heat," Seungmin taunts. Pressing your head harder into the pillows when you try to shake his hand off.

The rough action makes you immobile, vulnerable to his touch and the endless fullness the dildo provides. You fidget with the restraint on your wrists, able to loosen the rope just enough to slip a hand out to grip the collar of his shirt. He grimaces as your manicured nails dig into his skin through the fabric, leaving one of many marks you'd inflict on him for the night, and Seungmin was prepared to endure every single one.

He'd waited for this long enough.

You could fight him all you wanted, but his mind was set, and your body betrayed every protest you made. Seungmin shrugged your hand off his shoulder with ease, giving your cunt a light slap as you came undone for what felt like the hundredth time. Your chest tightened, fighting for oxygen and letting out a weary scream all at once.

"Breathe, kitten. Breathe for me…mhm," Seungmin's lowered voice was your lifeline, guiding you through the earth-shattering orgasm, and he adjusted his hold on your mouth just enough to let you pant for air.

The ceiling looked like a blur of color to you. His charming features remained crystal clear to you despite your lack of focus, and when the black dots stopped flashing in your vision, you lulled your head to the side to gaze at him properly.

He stared back at you, smiling smugly as you struggled to stay sane. "I should leave you here like this for the rest of the night." His soft laughter follows the semi-serious threat, and you whine in disagreement, grasping for mercy again as he stands up.

"Min, please…I can't feel my legs…I need a break…" you whimper as your thoughts twitch on Indian with your shaky breaths. Seungmin crosses his arms over his chest, strolling to the other side of your bed where the remote fell. He doesn't look away from you as he picks up the device. He holds it up, admiring it briefly before looking back down at you, "I'll help you out of this on three conditions."

You scoff, ready to burst into tears from frustration, but knowing Seungmin's bargain was your only way out.

"F-fine, what do you want?!.."

He hits an arrow on the remote, causing the dildo to pick up speed, and you jolt from sudden overstimulation. "I wouldn't be so mouthy right now, kitten… I'm only trying to help, remember?" He feigns sympathy, adorning a frown as you helplessly fall back into the bed. Your whole body feels numb, excluding your pulsing cunt that's practically being milked to death.

"N' sorry," you admit defeat, unable to speak above a whisper as your mind goes completely blank. Seungmin inhaled sharply, enjoying the sight of you crumbling to pieces as he listed his terms for the supposed 'deal.'

"I'm going to fuck you." He wasn't asking, and you smiled wide upon hearing the demand.

"… Okay.." you mutter, eyes glossed over with lust as he returns to his previous position next to your bed -only this time, he moves to hover over you correctly. Your breath hitched as he wrapped your arms around his neck, indirectly lowering his face closer to yours.

"From here on out, you'll call me 'Sir' or 'Master.' Nothing else…Think you can do that, pup?"

You nod slowly, heart thundering in your chest as his eyes lower to your parted lips, "Let me hear you say it.." he mumbles, and you feel a blush creep onto your cheeks.

"Yes…sir."

Seungmin pecks your lips as soon as the words leave your mouth, and you moan into the quick kiss, glad to finally taste and longing for more as he pulls back to list his last condition.

"You'll give your all to me. Everything. I'm done running in circles with you…"

Your cunt spasms in delight as your mind registers his possessive statement.

You hadn't expected him to ask you to be his like this, but…

"Whatever you want…sir. N' yours.."

He smiled as you closed your eyes in pure bliss, gripping a fist full of his hair as you teetered on the edge of cumming, but as your peak began to reignite, he hit the 'stop' button.

You didn't know whether to glare at him or cry joyfully as he set the remote on your nightstand and sat up to free your lower half from the toy. Seungmin was careful not to put his entire weight on you as he untied your ankles, but you could feel his solid cock throbbing right over your pelvis.

Your eyes were steady on the rise in his pants, mouth watering in anticipation as you felt your legs drop free and Seungmin's hands kneading your inner thighs to help you gain feeling again.

"Thank you…" you whisper gratefully, content with laying under him, gradually resurfacing from the waves of pleasurable aftershock.

He glared at you, shifting on the bed so your legs were on either side of him, and you winced at the spasms of pain the movement caused in your lower half. "Thank you, what?" Seungmin gripped one of your ankles, pulling it so your dripping core was pressed to his clothed erection. "Thank you, sir!" You yelped as the contact overwhelmed you, the fabric of his pants, along with the imprint of his length, tickling your clit as your hips bucked involuntarily.

"Much better…" he cooed, lowering his head to capture your lips in a long, well-deserved kiss.

Finally, he could stop feigning for you and claim what should've been his a year ago.

You. And only you…

Mind, body, & soul.

+++++++++

TAGS: @httpswilloww 🖤 + @sorasbl0g 🖤 + @miserya99 🖤+ @y-ur--i 🖤+ @ivyreadsstuff 🖤+ @nannetsz 🖤+ @hynmgj1nnn 🖤+ @blackhairandbangs 🖤+ @sharksandminhos 🖤+ @fawnpeaks 🖤+ @myseungsungheart 🖤

I have a feeling you guys are going to ask for a part 3 on this...Like, I can feel it in my bones, but we will see how the draft process goes.. [ BONUS CONTENT + ]

….oh he DEFINITELY has pretty moans- uhm I mean….wow isn’t he just so ANGELIC (Ii would do anything for this man) 🖤

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reesespeanutbutterfuck · 3 months

Text

love marks & battle scars

[rival! enemy! ken sato x baseball teammate! undercover KDF agent! reader]

part 2

part 1 | part 3

pairing: ken sato x reader

cw: rivals to lovers, enemies to lovers, eventual ANGST, cursing, hardcore!intimidating!reader, matsui’s daughter!reader, cursing, minimal details are modified to fit into the storyline, girldad!kenji, reader becomes emi’s mother figure, goofy ahhhh writing as usual

ken sato, your egotistical new teammate has been ticking you off and thinning your patience, being a threat to your place in yomiuri giants.

ultraman, your nemesis who always gets in the way of your job in the kdf, that you only joined in hopes of finding leads and getting clues to track your parents.

and somehow you even ended up being a co-parenting his… kaiju daughter. something you never signed up for.

Ken, as Ultraman, found himself at the scene where Gigantron was, earning a few back pains from being thrown here and there like a ragdoll. Just in the middle of catching his breath, a jet flew in front of his face.

“Ultraman, surrender. Leave this to the KDF and for the nth time, stop intervening.”

He knows that voice. Your voice. Even if you have a voice changer, he recognizes that monotonous voice from the last time he heard it in a similar scenario last night with Neronga.

“Ugh, you again? Can you lay off me?” his attention went to you.

“Not until you lay off our mission.” you replied, looking down at him under your helmet and the jet window.

After rushing to the KDF headquarters, you managed to put your gear inside and catch up with the last jet in the air force. You pulled a pilot away from the cockpit just as he was about to get on and you got on instead. Before the pilot could grumble, you flew the jet up toward the direction of the other jets but stopping by where Ultraman got thrown first.

“Saturnine, right? Can you please, please fly a little further? Almost as if you want to kiss my face.”

“I don’t kiss bad lips. Dream on, Ultrafail.”

He remembers you from Neronga’s attack last night. How could he not? You kept rambling violent verbal threats to him and you even almost “unintentionally” blasted him with a missile. Moreover, you wore a different uniform. He doesn’t know what you look like, because your face would always be covered, and your voice changer alters your voice along with radio distortion.

While bantering, you were distracted when Gigantron let out a loud roar before it flew away with the package. Your eyes went back to Ultraman.

“Stay out of KDF's business.”

You followed with your jet, and so did Ultraman. You were now in front of the jets’ formation, and Ultraman’s following not that far behind. He really doesn't listen.

“If Ultraman interferes, you are authorized to use deadly force.” You heard Dr. Onda say on the radio. You ignored it and focused on catching up to Gigantron. Ultraman’s the least of your worries.

Ultraman accelerates and tries to converse with Gigantron to no avail. You can’t hear what he was saying, but you think he’s trying to convince the Kaiju to hand him the package. Ultraman’s putting himself between the KDF and Gigantron.

That little…

Now it’s time for your backup plan. Just as Dr. Onda commanded to fire the missiles, you also accelerated the speed to reach Gigantron. Ultraman thought you were about to try and wave him off again, but you had other plans.

“What the f–” Until the pilot caught a glimpse of you through the window when you flew ahead. “Sir, Agent Saturnine appeared on the site!”

“What?!” Dr. Onda grits his teeth, pushing one of the Computer Agents to see through the monitor cameras. “Hold fire!”

“Missiles have already fired, sir! She’s trying to turn the jet around to get in Gigantron’s way and fire from its front!”

When the KDF’s missiles almost reached Gigantron, Ultraman blocked them with his force shield. Now’s your chance.

You failed to consider a spot, Ultraman.

Ultraman looks back and immediately recognizes you. What the hell are you–

No.

Ken’s eyes widened from behind the mask when he realized what you were about to do but it was too late. You fired multiple missiles at the other side directly at Gigantron where Ultraman’s force shield doesn’t cover. Then came a big explosion as you hear Gigantron's loud, desperate roar and the sound of its fall from the height like an asteroid. The impact of the explosion from the other’s jets’ missiles and yours repelled your jets away miles from the explosion. Gigantron hitting the ocean surface also made a big wave upon landing.

Then the environment suddenly turned quiet. When the smoke dissipated, you tried to look down and search for the Gigantron’s whereabouts but you could not see clearly from the height. You have to retrieve that package. Even Ultraman was nowhere to be found anymore. Is he dead? In your defense, you didn’t plan to hit him with the missiles too, he was in the way, it’s his fault for meddling.

You need to find Gigantron now and complete the mission. KDF’s drones and Dr. Onda himself searched with you. Later on, after a while, you finally found Gigantron’s unresponsive body but no package to be found. Until you looked beside Gigantron and what you saw gave what it was away.

Fragments of shells.

You looked back at Gigantron’s unmoving body. You weren’t sure if it’s dead or just unconscious. But one thing’s for sure. Aoshima’s going to kill you.

And you failed your mission.

Ultrafuckingman.

—

With a sour mood, you woke up once again the following day. At your house, you sat at the tabletop chair and mindlessly poured coffee to an old, chipped rim cup.

“No work in the morning?”

When you heard the male voice behind you, you accidentally poured your coffee into your hand and when you flinched it spilled all over everywhere from the kettle. You silently muttered a sharp ouch as you tried to soothe the scalded spot.

The man behind you is none other than your father, the one and only baseball champion, Hideki Matsui. Skyrocketing expectations, only expecting the best from his only daughter who took the same line of work as him. As a retired athlete, he wanders around, occasionally attending interviews and reunions from his old Giants teammates.

You sighed before you replied without turning behind to meet his eyes.

“I got suspended.”

—

After the stunt you pulled to eliminate Gigantron, and when Dr. Onda announced that the Kaiju egg hatched, Aoshima had a word with you and suspended you for three days.

“Aoshima, if you'd just let me talk to Dr. Onda alone–”

Aoshima faced you. “Dr. Onda does not chat with his personnel. Whatever you have to say, say it in front of me, and I'll relay, Agent Saturnine.”

“I can’t. It’s a private matter. Besides, it wasn’t my fault why the mission failed. I did what I could.”

“You were there even if you’re off-duty.” Aoshima’s brows furrowed, pointing outside.

“You didn’t say I shouldn’t meddle when I’m off-duty. Clearly it was your fault for giving unclear instructions.”

Aoshima sucked air through his nose. “I’m still a rank above you. So as your Captain, do as I say. Go home and rest.” and then he walked away from you and went in the door to Dr. Onda’s office.

—

Your dad, Matsui scoffs at your revelation. “Suspended? Just what trouble did you cause in your discreet workplace? Well, you'll live with it, it’ll help you focus more on baseball. You have a whole season ahead of you.”

You winced in annoyance. “Dad–”

“You didn’t start the game last night. Why is that? You’re always first in sequence as the right fielder.”

You gripped your coffee cup. You don’t know how to answer. He would surely have a negative reaction, but you wanted to tell him the truth about Sato.

Speaking of Sato, you researched about him last night. Kenji Sato, number 7, LA Dodgers. His stats were decent. He might be one of the best players in the Dodgers, but he's nowhere like that here. At the end of the day, stats don't matter. You want to see him in his full potential to believe in his skills. He's built quite a fanbase here in Tokyo, too. Not surprising, he was born here in Japan, anyway.

You turned your head to him. “Shimura decided it’d be great if Sato was first in the court. He’s the best player of the Dodgers back in LA.”

“I know that. He’s a threat. Don't let him be better than you. I saw him, he bats ineptly, you already have an advantage. But even if he’s not a threat to your title, he’d be a threat to the points of the team. And when there is a threat. We eliminate it.”

You want to tell him to give Sato the benefit of the doubt because it’s his first time in the team, but you chose to keep your mouth shut.

“Right.” you turned your head back to your coffee and started fidgeting with the coaster underneath.

“Make sure you maintain your place in that team. Don’t take a place less than being Captain. And do something about that Sato.” you heard him say before he went outside through the main door, not saying a word more. he didn’t even tell you where he’s going, or what time he’ll be home.

You exhaled all the tension out and bowed your head. “Maintain your place in that team.”, yet no “You’ve worked hard enough for your place in that team.”

This is your life, you have to suck it up.

You looked at the picture frame at the side of the tabletop near the fruit basket. You picked it up and looked at your family picture. You caressed your mom’s cheek with your finger. If only… If only she were still here, maybe your dad wouldn’t be this hard on you and things would be a lot better because you don’t have to risk your life working in the KDF.

You’d do anything to be with her again.

Arriving at the Tokyo Dome, you immediately went back to the locker rooms, avoiding your teammates and the interviewers trailing you everywhere. Where are the security guards? When you got in the locker room, they were still following you so you struggled to close the door. The pushy ones were trying to get your attention and pushing the door open. When you locked it you got pushed back upon the impact and lost your balance, resulting in you falling on your behind. You shook your head and caressed your back.

—

“Persistent, aren’t they?” you were shocked when someone offered their hand to help you up. You didn’t even notice some of your teammates were there with you inside.

Ken smiled down at you, with his hand still hanging in the air offering to help you get up. But you didn’t even gesture to reject him, you just scowled at his hand, got up by yourself, and left him hanging.

“Not into accepting help from others. Got it.” Ken withdrew his hand, and muttered to himself. He heard the other teammates’ snickers at the corner. He guesses this is what he gets for being Mr. Helpful.

One of the teammates put an arm over Ken’s shoulder and followed you with his eyes. “Hard shell to crack, isn’t she? That’s how she was always like.”

“Yeah. God knows how long we’ve been teammates, yet she always keeps herself at a distance. No one knows why.” another teammate whispers to him, careful not to be heard by you.

Ken panned in your direction, you were organizing your locker, completely uncaring about your environment. He pursed his lips before removing his teammates’ arms from his shoulder and walking back toward his own locker.

The game started not long after warm-ups. You were first in sequence. He finally saw you play and he must say, you really proved yourself worthy of your title. You were aggressive yet still seemingly holding yourself in restraint. When it was his turn to be in the court, you followed him with your eyes as he walked in. You thought he was about to redeem himself for the disappointment he was last night, but he was even more disappointing tonight. Last night it was just banter, tonight, he picked a fist-fight with the catcher from the other team.

What the hell is he doing this time?

The fight was bad. You can’t even look at their direction or the jumbotron while the referee was holding them from each other. Shimura was humiliated. He yelled to call him off the game and told him to get a time-out.

“The second time you do this, Sato, you’ll be kicked out by the management!” Shimura yelled at his face.

You caught a glimpse of Sato’s fuming mad face when he passed in front of you with a lowered head when he went to the exit to the back of the arena, possibly to the locker room.

You paid him no mind and instead focused on the last game. When the game finished, you didn’t bother to know anymore if your team was fined for Sato’s behavior. You were about to go back to the locker room to get your things after the game but a teammate called your last name to get your attention and told you to wait up.

When you faced him, he was holding his own ice pack to cool his neck. “You’re going to the lockers, right? Can you give Sato an ice pack to help with his face?”

“Who are you to tell me what to do? He did that to himself.” you looked at his ice pack. “Why don’t you do it yourself?”

“Coach Shimura told us personally to tell you to deliver one to him because you’re the only one Sato doesn’t sneer at.”

You side-eye Shimura to confirm, who has his eyes on you too to see if you’d comply. You take your own unused gel ice pack from the bench, put it in your pocket and turn your back to make your way to the locker room.

When you opened the door, you saw Ken’s topless figure sitting still on the bench in front of his open locker. You two were the only ones inside the dim locker room. He didn’t turn to the door to see who came in when the door made a sound. He can feel someone’s presence behind him, but he doesn’t know it's you.

He felt you walking behind him, he thought it was just another teammate getting his things so he didn’t pay you any mind and just minded his own business.

You went to your own locker first at the opposite side of his. You opened your locker first to get your things before you towered behind him with your hands inside your pockets. His naked back was in full display, he was holding one side of his head in pain, and his eyes were shut. You fished the ice pack from your pocket and dropped it on the bench just beside where he was seated before you turned away.

The soft thud of the ice pack landing on the bench beside Ken shook his eyes open. His eyes first landed on your back that he immediately recognized, before it landed on the ice pack that had your name on it.

Your steps toward the door halted when you heard his voice.

“Thanks.” Ken spoke from behind you.

He waited for you to say something, but you didn’t say anything. Except, you continued to proceed to the door.

When you opened the door, you stopped midway. Your head turned slightly to the right, to his direction.

"Stop being a burden to us. If you have any respect for this team at least, because you clearly don't have any respect towards any of your teammates, you'll either get your shit together or resign."

And then you went forward until you were fully outside the door and left him hanging for the second time, again.

***

taglist (do comment if u wanna be added): @moonjellyfishie @aise-30 @lovingyeet @ririkacchi @mitski9328373 @cheomain @ultrawa

#ken sato fluff #ken sato smut #ken sato imagine #ken sato x reader #ken sato #ultraman rising #ultraman netflix #ultraman x reader #ultraman #kenji sato brainrot #kenji sato fluff #kenji sato

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musclejedi-tameem · 2 months

Text

It was Danny’s birthday and he got a surprise package at his door. It didn’t say who it was from but the note said “may all your dreams come true today.” It seemed like a nice thought so he brought it in and opened the box. Inside there was a silver necklace with a charm that kind of looked like the Superman symbol. Danny shrugged and tried it on, it felt like he was being called by it. As so as it touched his skin he felt a jolt and the metal began to heat up. He tried to take it off in a panic but it was stuck! As Danny tried to pull it off harder he saw his arm and it seemed to be growing! “What the fuck?!” He said out loud, his voice sounding deeper. He groaned as his neck thickened and his voice dropped even more, getting deep and resonate. His whole body was growing and changing. His once skinny 20 year old form swelling and growing with thick muscle. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and saw that he looked older too! He gave another deep moan as his clothes tore from his massive expanding chest. His legs were so thick that the muscles brushed each other now and pushed his package out. Speaking of which that had grown too. Balls swelling and dropping to huge heavy oranges and a dick 10 inches long and 3 thick! All that testosterone flooded him and he watched his beard fill in but his hair fell out. As quick as it stared the transformation ended. 20 year old Danny had transformed into 45 Dan, a bodybuilder muscle daddy. He took a pic in the mirror to post on his social media. “birthday boy looking good. Hit me up it you want to lift.” It was going to be a great day.

Hey all, this was my first try at doing a transformation story. Let me know if you liked it and if I should do more. 💪💪❤️❤️

#bodybuilder #muscles #muscle #muscle tf #male transformation

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st4rymoon · 6 months

Note

can i request a smut!!!

so basically steven is a porn star and he’s roommates with the fem!reader and she didn’t know what his job was because he always was cooped up in his room but he always pays rent on time and when the reader was feeling needy she finds one his videos and he catches her and the once so shy steven disappeared

if not feel free to ignore 😭

This has me giggling and kicking my feet up…

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐲 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐃𝐨𝐨𝐫 • 𝘙𝘰𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘎𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘹 𝘍𝘦𝘮 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

- 18+, prn star Steven!, sex toys, masterbation, unprotected sex, mean Steven, choking, degrading, p in v, slight fingering, arguing, horny Steven & reader, teasing, language, porn, reader gets caught watching Steven’s porn! Vids, bratty reader, pet names, pussy job!, belly bulge, big dick! Steven

You were delighted knowing you had such a pleasant roommate. After dozens of roommate horror stories told to you by your friends, you were more than happy to find that your roommate was always locked up in his room.

Steven, a British, brown haired gentleman was one of the first people to call for the open room. He was timid to say the least, quiet, and polite.

Even though your interactions were limited, they were always enjoyable. Both of you willingly making dinner for each other every now and then. He loved to talk about Egyptian history, he seemed to be your own personal google when it came to it.

You never questioned the fair amount of packages this man managed to get. Never questioning it due to the fact that he was a nerd, probably some books or figures of Egyptian gods

“Steven another one of your packages arrived” you yelled out as you shut the door behind you, the packages seemed to be never-ending for him.

“Ah- thank you!” He blurted out as he came running out and pulled it out of your hands “so many packages huh!” You joked. He chuckled softly with a smile and went back into his room.

You always wondered what he got up to in his room. Always buried in his room, random music playing at night and muffled noises coming from his bedroom.

Anyone in their right mind would guess he had someone over by the way he’d always keep his door closed but you’d never seen anyone come in or out other than Steven.

“Want anything love? I’m heading out for some food” Steven asked as he walked past the couch. He gave you a flirty wink as he tucked his wallet into his pocket.

“I- I I’m fine thank you” you muttered taken by surprise by the added love in his sentence. “No worries, I’ll be back in a few” he nodded as he shut the door behind him.

You sat in your thoughts for a few moments. Love?

You could tell you haven’t gotten laid in a while by the way that little show of affection had you heated. You’d always thought Steven was attractive but it was always platonic.

You had no clue that Steven would fuck himself in front of his camera as he thought about his hand being yours. You wouldn’t suspect the amount of flesh lights and silicon pussy’s he had locked up in his room.

You rushed into your room, he usually took a few hours whenever he’d go out for some food so you didn’t hesitate to pull out your laptop and look for something to entertain you with.

Looking for porn was difficult to say the least, everything was so boring now and days. You’d go on Twitter in hopes of finding something more your taste.

You clicked and swiped through dozens of pages, none of them catching your attention. You were about to give up until you noticed a familiar bedding, your eyes went wide as you watched.

There was no way.

You noticed your roommates bedding. It’s a coincidence. The person on screen moaned, cock in hand as he jerked himself off. You gasped as the camera shook a bit, allowing you to catch a glimpse of Steven’s distinguishable posters. His pretty face being cut half way off screen with only his mouth in view. You knew it was Steven, how couldn’t it be?

Sure you couldn’t see him completely but it was him. No doubt. The caption reading can’t help but close my eyes and fuck myself to the thought of you as he began to shake. His thick white ropes of cum painting his hand and stomach as he whined and panted out in a shaky tone.

Then you scrolled deeper and were met with the visual of his cock sliding in and out of a fake silicon pussy with a thick white ring of his pre cum forming at the base of his cock.

Just like that yea- oh fuck he cried out. You were completely dumbfounded. You could feel the slick pooling into your panties as you watched hypnotized.

He was fucking huge. The silicon stretched as it adjusted with each of his thrusts, the lewd sounds of the lube and skin slapping together was sinful.

You were laying on your tummy with your laptop in front of you as Steven came in with a handful of cake for you, your favorite midnight snack.

You didn’t notice the sound of the door as you watched in a trance, Steven freezing as he saw himself on your screen. He smiled to himself, finally you’ve found it.

He placed the plate on your drawer as he stood with his arms crossed “having fun?” He cooed. You slammed your laptop closed as you shuffled up onto your bed “I-someone sent me that I was ju-“

“Uh huh uh huh” he nodded “you aren’t a good liar love” he laughed. “So those were all the packages” you awkwardly joked as he smiled down at you “do you do that a lot?” He asked.

“Do what?”

“Do you watch porn a lot” he asked nonchalantly “I- I mean just when I feel like it” you muttered with your face down.

“And what’s got you feeling like it”

You watched Steven closely and noticed he seemed much more confident compared to his usual self. He was leaning on your drawer with his arms wrapped on his chest with a cocky smile on his face.

“You gonna answer?”

“Gosh Steven I watch it when I’m horny! Is that what you wanted to hear! Yes girls watch porn” you semi screamed. “Such an attitude when im just asking a question” he cooed.

“It’s not an attitude. I get horny just the way you do, the only difference being I don’t find it satisfying to fuck a toy.“ you hissed.

“Ouch” he pouted “are you jealous of a toy now?” He smiled “I’m not one to go around and slut myself out, it’s alright if you do”

You looked at him in shock, no fucking way he just called you a slut?

“I’m a slut? I don’t go sleeping around either you piece of shit! And if I did it wouldn’t be any of your business. I don’t like dildos big fucking deal. Now I understand why you have to fuck a damn toy” you scoffed.

Steven had a cheeky smile on his face, it looked almost as if he was enjoying getting on your nerves. “Are you mad I’m not fucking you instead?” He grinned.

“I noticed the way your pretty little eyes lit up as you watched the video, not to mention the way you walk around the flat with flimsy panties on and a tee. I notice it just like you notice me in my sweats”

You squeezed your legs together as the look in his eyes made your stomach turn. You really hope he makes a move.

He walked over to the side of your bed and plotted down besides you “I can see it in your eyes, the way you want me to make a move” he hummed.

“Tell me you don’t me too. Tell me to get out” he cooed “I want it, don’t go please” you moaned. “I know you do” he smiled, a gasp escaped your lips as he pressed his lips onto your neck.

He sloppily kissed up your neck, hand moving behind your head for a better grip “Steven” you purred. He chuckled as you pushed him onto your pillows. You straddled his hips as he pulled his shirt off with no trouble.

“Ah ah let me do it for you” he cooed as he swatted your hands away from your shirt. Steven pulled your top off in a slow, sensual manner. His hands roaming your body as he took in all your beauty.

His hands snaked onto your hips, allowing him to flip you over so he could cage you in. He couldn’t resist running his hands down your tummy knowing he’d be able to see himself bulging through you.

He’d always pretend he was holding you like this while filming, he’d buck his hips into his fist pretending it was your tight cunt hugging around him.

You giggled as he spread your legs wide. He was getting you in the position he always wanted to take you, just the way he fucked his pathetic flesh light. “Such pretty panties love, such a shame they’ll be all messy by the time I’m done” he chuckled.

There was something hypnotizing about the sight in front of you. Steven pulling his sweats off as his stomach curled with his movements had you squirming under him.

“You’re just so desperate to be used aren’t you? Look at you” Steven purred as he moved your panties to the side. He held a tight fist around the thin cloth as he scooted towards you “look at the that”

Steven’s eyes were blown out at the sight of your tight cunt gushing slick. He couldn’t help but push two fingers deep inside you and pull them out for a taste.

“Steven please” you whined. “I know sweetheart, you just want me to make you feel good” he coyly replied. “I’ll make you my new personal toy yeah? Give my fans something real to look at” he hummed as he rubbed himself between your folds.

You mewled at the sensation of Steven fucking himself between your folds with a harsh grip on one thigh as his other held your panties to the side. “I don’t even need to lube you up doll, you’re all wet and ready”

Both of you let out a heavy sigh as Steven sunk into you. The stretch of you cunt making his vision go blurry as he noticed himself bulge through your tummy with half his length in you.

The man you once knew was no where to be found as you dumbly stared into Steven’s eyes. He had your legs spread wide, cock pounding you onto the sheets as he ruined your panties.

He payed no mind to your yelp as you heard the rip of the flimsy panties. He sighed as he finally got them out of the way “are you sure you don’t go sleeping around? You seem to be good at this” he cooed. “F- fuck you!” You whined as his hands wrapped around your waist with his thumbs right above your belly button.

He held onto you like you were too precious to lose and fucked you like he hated you, there was no going back for neither of you. “Sss- stevennn oh my fucking godddd” you cried as his hands snaked up around your neck.

He had you at an angled position, hips slightly off the bed as he used the extra grip as leverage. His hips rammed onto the back of your thighs as his moans grew louder with every thrust.

“You’ll be perfect as a porn star, the sounds you make will make everyone wish they were the ones getting them out of you” he hummed. Your orgasm tingled up your body as you cried out Steven’s name, cunt fluttering around him as you gasped.

“That’s it” he seethed, hips fucking into you harder as he grew closer to the edge “a- fuck lov- better than anything I could wish fo- ah!” Steven hissed as his hips came to a halt.

He was buried so deep you were clawing at his back, your hands pulling him in as you hugged onto him. Steven panted into the crook of your neck and held onto you for dear life. Steven’s sweet moans filled your ears as he spilled his loads in you.

Last night was definitely the last time he’d be posting himself fucking his stupid toys, he’s got something better than silicon now.

#smut #marvel smut #moonknight smut #moonknight x reader #moon knight smut #steven grant smut #steven grant x you #steven grant x reader #steven smut #steven grant

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xxblairexxss · 1 year

Text

Who are you? p.2

Pairing : Charles Leclerc x reader

Theme : Fluff, I think

Word count : 2.9k

Warning! Poorly translated French

Part 1 Part 3

It was your second time meeting the country’s gem boy but it surely wasn’t a smooth one.

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"I’m gonna put you here. Oh my God! I’m so excited!” You squealed and dipped your hand into the large box of new clothes that had just been delivered. Linda was all ready for your little haul, like she always was while putting her face mask on. "I bought this dress!"

"It’s so cute! Try it on!”

"What? Right now?" You were in jeans and a crop top, waiting for your VIP driver to pick you up as promised or as you were forced to agree two days ago. You didn’t know if he was the right on time person or someone who never bothered to check the time, so you got yourself ready for the day early because you surely couldn’t survive another round of humiliating yourself in front of the country’s precious gem again.

"There’s like 20 minutes left. He’s not going to knock on the door any second. Quick, try it on! I want to see how it is on you!” Linda assured.

"Fine. Give me a second.” You took out the dress from the packaging, stripped yourself until you were left in your underwear, and slipped the dress on.

It was pretty, as you pictured it would be but it was tight. Too tight.

You definitely picked the wrong size that you couldn’t even walk properly in it.

"Damn! You look good!” Your best friend’s eyes widened as you walked into the frame, completely ignoring your suffocating expression. "Why is the upper part a little loose?"

"I picked the wrong size! I can’t even zip up the back.” You whined and tried to reach the zip part. "Oh, I got it.” You pulled it up, roughly three quarters from the full length, and gave up when it put you out of breath. "Nah, it’s too tight."

"It looks so freaking beautiful! You would be getting all eyes if you ever wore that in public!"

"Only after I change it to the right size because now—oh no." You frowned, tugging on the zipper a little harder. It won’t budge.

"What? Y/N, what?"

"It’s stuck!" You cried and tugged on the zipper again. "What am I supposed to do?"

"How can you get stuck in the dress?” Linda, being the most amazing friend you could ever ask for, burst out laughing.

"It’s not funny! I need—" You whirled your head towards the door as the bell rang. "Fuck! He’s here. What should I say?"

"Ask for his help!” Linda suggested as she wiped the tears from her eyes.

"He can’t see me looking like this! Are you kidding me? Talk to you later.” You ended the call before she went into another round of laughter as the bell rang once again.

"Hey?" Charles tilted his head, brows arched as you opened the door with the chain on, which only allowed him to see you from the small gap. "Your appointment is in 5 minutes."

"I’m going with someone else. Sorry for troubling you.” You moved your face away as if the door would hit you when he pushed the door back.

"I thought you had made an agreement with Charles Monaco?”

"I don’t have time for a joke!” You shut him up and groaned. "I can’t go out like this."

"Like what? What is the problem this time?"

"Like this!" You whined.

"In case you didn’t realise, I can only see your head. What do you actually want to show me?” He heard the chain went loose as you closed the door.

"This.."

Charles stepped back when you opened the door all the way, much wider this time, revealing your little dress that grasped every curve of your body. "Dang, you tryna hit the club with that sprained wrist?"

"No, I’m going to punch that pretty face of yours." You stepped aside as he walked in. Just like everyone else’s first time being in a new area, he started looking around, waiting for you to elaborate further on your problems. You, on the other hand, were unable to look at him or bring up the topic, though it felt like you were going to faint anytime soon for the lack of oxygen.

"So? Your problem is?” He took another glimpse of you before checking his watch. "There’s no sense of urgency in that gorgeous body of yours, I see."

You locked your gaze on your feet and mumbled. "I’m stuck.."

"You what?" His brows were drawn closer, frowning at you.

"I’m stuck in this dress!” You squeezed your eyes shut, preparing yourself for the humiliation that was about to come.

"How the heck did you get stuck in the dress?" Charles wanted to laugh, and he knew you knew he was going to make fun of you too, but seeing you in the dress with your wrist secured in a bandage wrap made him feel bad. "Turn around. Let me see."

"Go ahead." You looked up and glared at him.

"Go ahead, what, silly? I’m trying to help you." He stood there like a statue, waiting for you to turn around because there was no way he would move to your back. He was nearly charged with an attempted murder two days ago, and he definitely didn’t want to take another leap in the dark. And he just met you. No woman would be comfortable enough to show the back of her body to a random guy.

"Go ahead and laugh at me."

"I don’t have time for a laugh, Y/N. We are late! They kept spamming my phone with calls. Just turn around.” He sighed.

You pursed your lips, gathering your hair in one hand as you turned your back on him, waiting for him to fix the zipper.

Charles was astounded. His hands went a little clammy as he saw your half-bare back. The way the body line became more obvious as you moved your arms even by a little bit, stunned him.

"Quit staring!"

"Oh, sorry." He muttered and took a step forward. The zipper was indeed stuck at the spot, as he had to tug on it a little hard to move it down. "Is this okay?"

You just wanted to dig a hole to hide yourself. Nothing could mortify you more than this. Not only did you not recognise the country’s athlete, he was here in your house with your exposed back for him to see. You felt his touch on your back as he pulled the zipper down and had to pray that you weren’t sweating from it. "Yeah, that should be fine. Let me just take this.” You turned around and quickly picked up your jeans and top that you had worn before and scurried to your room to change.

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"We should be able to take your bandage off in two weeks! Until then, please take the medicine if there is any discomfort. If it lasts more than 2 days, give us a call or just come here for a further check-up."

"Oh! Can you.." You took out your phone and went to the notes. "..change the phone number to this one? It’s mine, so it should be easier.” You grinned and handed the phone to the staff.

"No." Charles took the phone away before it reached the staff’s hand.

"What is wrong with you? I’m so sorry. I don’t know this guy and why’s he acting like this.” You sent a glare to the driver and smiled again towards the staff. "Can you just use this phone number, please?” You took the phone back and handed it back, only for it to be in Charles’ hand again.

Your mouths were wide open as he proceeded to speak in French to the staff, completely ignoring you as if this didn’t have anything to do with you at all. The staff nodded and took the phone in his hand as he handed it back to you right away.

"What did you say to her?” You finally asked as you got into the car, after being stopped ten times by his fans for autographs and pictures.

"Oh, I told her she could remove my phone number and proceed with everything in the future with yours.” He arched a brow and smirked, which made you pull your face. "What are you doing?"

"It seems like everyone wants to take a picture with you. I should take my chance too!” You brought up the phone, angled it to where you and Charles were in the frame, and clicked on the snap button. "Gotcha!"

"You need to pay for that.” He turned the engine on and pulled on his seatbelt.

"Yeah, right. Don’t try to scam me. You didn’t ask for money from the fans earlier”. You stared at the picture you just took and cackled at his expression.

"That’s because they asked for my permission. You didn’t. They could sue you."

"Funny!" You pulled the seatbelt as the car started to move and waited for him to pull a face, but he didn't, so your lips went into a straight line. "Wait, are you serious?"

"Yeah. Do I look like I’m playing around?” He turned the blinker on before turning right.

"Do I still get sued if I just keep the pictures on my phone?”

"No, I don’t think so. I can ask my manager about that.” He tilted his head to the right and bit his lips to keep himself from laughing as he saw you gripping your phone with the picture on the screen.

"I’ll just keep it in my photo album. Wait, where are we going? You missed the turn! My apartment is there!”

"Relax! I know!" He kept his gaze forward and proceeded in a straight line.

"Then why aren’t you turning around? I’m calling the police.”

"And tell them what? Charles Monaco is kidnapping you? They won’t do anything.” He turned the blinker again and headed left; your apartment was no longer in sight as he went further away. "You owe me something. Remember when I told you I was in a rush after accidentally hitting you? I had a haircut appointment."

"So we are going to a hair salon? I haven’t been to one since I moved here.” You touched the part of your hair with your free hand while keeping your gaze on the window.

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Charles pulled the door open, allowing you to walk in first as he followed behind. The place was spacious, neat, and decorous. It reminded you a lot of your local hair salon. There were a few people inside getting their hair done, with a few workers walking by.

"Boujour! Est ce que je peux vous aider?" (Hello! Can I help you?)

"Um.." You turned around, waiting for him to take over.

Charles walked all the way to the hairdresser as she hugged him and kissed him on both cheeks. The middle-aged woman then looked over to you and gave off a smile as she said something, as if asking the guy to take a seat while she walked back to get something.

You quickly made your way to Charles and tiptoed to whisper in his ear. "Is she your fan too?"

He looked at you and chuckled. "No, she’s my mom.”

"Are you being real? Stop joking around!”

He twirled the chair around and shrugged. "I’m being serious! She gave birth to me, Y/N."

"Oh.." You breathed out. The woman came back, and you stepped aside as she started working on the haircut while you took a seat on the couch at the back where you were facing them and still within the radius where you could hear them talk, though you didn’t understand anything except for the constant repetition of this one word.

"Elle pensait que je m'appelleais Charles Monaco." (She thought my name was Charles Monaco)

"Vraiment? D’où vient Charles Monaco?" (Really? Where did Charles Monaco come from?)

"Je ne sais pas, mais c’est mignon." (I don’t know but it’s cute)

For the next 20 minutes, you had been playing a game where you had to match the colours of the items together and hit the goal in order to go up to the next level. It was very distracting that you lost track of time and managed to go up to 50 levels ahead until he called your name.

"Making yourself at home? Should I pick you up tomorrow?” He laughed as you quickly stood up and walked over to him. "I’m just kidding."

"Charles!" His name was called out and you tilted your head,nodding at the older woman as she approached both of you with something in her hand. "Ceci est pour vous." (This is for you)

She handed you a small bag full of cute hair clips and kept on patting your arm as she said something to her son. "Ramenez-la à la maison en toute sécurité." (Bring her home safely)

"Thank you so much for these!”You grinned and turned to see that he was looking at you with a smile plastered on his face.

"Take care! Come if you need any haircuts, love!” She hugged you before making her way to treat her other customers as you left the store and headed back to the car with him.

"Oh my God, it’s so cute!" The soft pink hair claw caught your attention the most, so you picked it out and wrapped your hair around it, making your hair into a bun while looking at yourself through the sun visor. "It’s so cute, isn’t it?"

"You look cute with your hair up. Anyway, sorry for dragging you all the way here." He muttered.

"Give me a second. Where is it?" You frowned and dug your fingers inside the bag to find the matching pairs for the strawberry hair clips. "Oh, it’s okay! I got cute hair clips.” You shrugged it off and pin the matching clips to your face framing bang.

"I’m sending you off after this because I have a plan with my friends for dinner. Is it okay for you?” Charles found himself beaming at the sight of you trying every clip on, despite having your hand wrapped up in a bandage.

"What do you mean, is it okay for me? You are supposed to drop me off after your haircut.” The hair clips on your hair were taken off as you dropped them into the bag and left with just the hair claws to keep your hair up.

"Do you not have any plans with your friends?" He asked, picking a random topic to carry a conversation.

"Oh, I don’t have any friends in here.” You replied and played it off with a chuckle. Moving to a new country all on your own was such a new adventure for you that you barely had any time to find some new friends. Your mom kept on saying you weren’t able to find one because you kept on living in your own bubble, but how exactly did you start a friendship with someone who was never in the same school, class, or even neighbourhood with you? D9 you just go to their table and introduce yourself because surely no one would just barge their way into your life just to be friends? "You can just drop me there. I can walk my way up on my own because my hand is the one fully wrapped like a mummy. My legs are all safe and working very well."

He chuckled as you gave a thumbs up before gathering your stuff in one hand and opening the door as he stopped by the side of the road.

"Are you sure you don’t need my help?"

"Yeup! All good. I don’t want to trouble you anymore.” You pushed the door closed and turned back to head to your apartment.

"Hey, Y/N?"

"Yeah?" Turning around, you bent down a little just to catch his gaze from inside the car.

"We are friends, right? I can be your first friend here in Monaco."

"I’m not sure if you want to be friends with me. I’m not an athlete. I can’t even run 100 metres without dying.” You cracked a joke, but he wasn’t laughing along with you.

"I’m not just friends with athletes, silly. No one’s trying to challenge you to a 100-metre race."

"I’m not rich too.." You mumbled.

"Okay, I really want to know how your brain works because there is not a single hint of logic in everything you are saying right now. Do people in your country print out their bank statements first before accepting a friendship? No one’s flashing their wealth in here!"

You laughed at how frustrated he was. "Okay, sure! We are friends!"

"Which means I can text you, right?”

"Good luck in finding my phone number, Charles Monaco! Bye!" You waved and made your way back without looking back, thinking that would be the last time you would hang out with him again.

Without knowing he had your phone number saved on his phone with the help of the hospital’s staff earlier.

✧.* general tag list! @i83andrew @cltrlne @karmabyfernando @ohthemisssery @ru-kru @tastebaldwin @f1obessed @love4lando @shinrjj @ietss @leclerc13 @darleneslane @buckybarnessweetheart @xcinnamongirl @boiohboii @formula1mount @judespoision @alwaysclassyeagle @scenesofobx @mrsmaybank13 @vildetry06 @harriesgolden

✧.* tag list for p.2 @styles-sunflower @needtokeepfeelingsincheck @lexiecamposv

If your usernames were crossed, meaning I can’t tag you! Let me know if you would like to be removed or to be added to the tag list! Or if I missed anyone!

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #f1 imagines #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagines #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc fluff

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pierregazly · 1 year

Text

tolerate it ꨄ lewis hamilton

lewis hamilton x fem!reader

warnings: age gap (no specific age, just mentioned), angst, no hea

this is just me projecting my sadness with this song onto one of the drivers, lewis being the best option. there's a chance i may do a part 2 to this eventually, but im pretty content with how it ended for now. i hope you enjoy!

It wasn’t always like this.

There was a time when you didn’t wake up, clenching your eyes closed in the hopes that it would magically change the outcome once they opened.

There was a time when you would wake up, Lewis nuzzling his chin into the space where your neck and shoulders collided, peppering the skin with little kisses in the hopes it would wake you from your slumber.

There was a time when you didn’t have to hold your breath, when your eyes didn’t have to adjust to the lack of light in the room, just to get a small glimpse of the man you loved curled up next to you.

It was hard to pinpoint the exact moment when it had all changed. Maybe it was at the beginning of the season, maybe it was before that. You couldn’t really be too sure.

Now, you were lucky to catch a glimpse of him in the morning, lucky to even get the chance to move your eyes across his ink-coloured skin beside you. You were lucky to even get a kiss goodbye in the morning before he left, the sun barely up when he was leaving to go to training, or the factory, or God knows where.

The words between the both of you were minimal nowadays, it was more like living with a roommate you saw occasionally instead of a lover that you were supposed to be sharing a life with.

There was a time when Lewis would giggle as he read the words of his books to you in whatever animated voice he could come up with. There was a time when the art he created was a joint effort between the two of you; now, it felt like all he did was tolerate you.

It was evident neither you, nor Lewis, wanted to touch on the topic. Both of you tiptoed around each other, not wanting to open the door that would push the storm in.

There isn’t much time spent at the paddock anymore, your career becoming the main focus of your priorities. You still welcomed Lewis home after every Grand Prix, his favourite dinner’s packaged in the fridge, the linens cleaned, and his clothes prepped.

A battle hero’s welcome, one could call it.

He always politely thanked you, a gentle kiss to your forehead before he made his way to the office for the remainder of the night. There was a time when he would debrief with you after every race, watching highlight videos on the television while he explained what he did wrong, what he did right, where he could improve and where he got a little too cocky. Now he just did it alone, the door of his office tightly closed, no sound emitting from the room.

Sugarcoating it to your friends and family was difficult. They understood Lewis’ career took center stage, but they couldn’t understand why he was never around when they came to your shared apartment, why it felt like his presence wasn’t even prominent in the home at all.

There was no way to explain it, without sounding naïve, without sounding like you were just letting a relationship that was drowning, pull you down with it.

Everyone suggested different reasons. The season wasn’t going in the way Lewis had hoped. Maybe his age is finally getting to him. Maybe he’s considering retirement and it’s bothering him. Maybe the age difference between the two of you is too much now.

Maybe he’s fallen out of love.

You knew the last one was a significant possibility. Lewis was a private person, but he showed his heart on his shoulder, especially at the beginning. Large declarations of love, obnoxious presents, at first, he wanted you to know that he was in love with you, constantly.

There isn’t a time in the last four months that you can remember where Lewis demonstrated his love for you, quick ‘love you’s’ before the door slammed behind him, a random heart in the middle of the night when he’s halfway across the world; even those had slowly stopped.

Nowadays he would hum silently when you told him you loved him, he would send a heart back if you sent one to him. He didn’t initiate anything, it just simply felt like he was tolerating it when you expressed your love for him.

It wasn’t hard to remember the times when Lewis would tell you how much he loved you, how he would show it.

He would curl up behind you in bed, the unmade sheets wrapped lazily around the two of you as he groaned into your neck, his hands resting around your middle as he eagerly cuddled up to you.

You could always feel him mumbling words into your neck, but he would never tell you what he was saying. Lewis would just smile and press a tiny kiss to your lips, the kiss heating up as time went on, your bodies moving in sync as he demonstrated his love for you in every way he knew how.

You weren’t a self-conscious person, you knew you had plenty to offer when it came to your relationship, and when it came to life in itself. You knew your love should be celebrated, celebrated in the way that Lewis used to celebrate it, the way he used to giggle as he wrapped his arms around you from behind, gently swaying to the music coming from his phone as you cooked together.

You tried to push the negative thoughts away, the thoughts of leaving, of packing up your bags and leaving in the middle of the weekend while he was away. You considered it, time and time again. The suitcases staring at you from the closet, telling you to open them, pack them, and leave.

Every weekend the temptation grew stronger and stronger. The urge to walk away, to preserve your dignity, sat heavy on your shoulders.

Every time when you thought you had decided, thought you had made the decision to pull the dagger out and walk away; an invisible force pulled you back. Told you that the season was slowly coming to its end, that the old Lewis would come back to you when the season was up, he was just stressed out and things were hard.

He never talked about his problems with you. He would debrief with you, sure. He would tell you about the problems in the race, but he would never tell you about his internal problems.

It’s how you constantly justified his behaviour, and his actions... or lack thereof.

Your mind always went back to those thoughts when you considered leaving. It always made you think about the fact that he was probably struggling, that he just wasn’t able to talk to you about it and that you leaving would probably make things worse.

It was the invisible but obvious force, that, you knew.

Lewis didn’t know about these thoughts. At least he never showed that he knew. The bags were always tucked away in the back of the closet when he returned home, like they were never sitting in front of the open door. Everything was back in their rightful place, as if the thought of leaving had never crossed your mind.

One of your favourite moments with him happened just before the beginning of the season. You were cuddled up on the couch, the remnants of a ‘Game of Thrones’ episode playing on the television, Lewis’ hand gently creating shapes on the visible skin of your back.

“Do you ever feel like you’re too old, or like... too wise for me? Like someone closer to your age would be better?”

You felt him huff against your neck, a small laugh falling from his lips before he pressed a kiss to the spot his lips were before shaking his head.

“Are you calling me old, my love?”

Immediately shaking your head with a tiny laugh, you slapped his chest with a gleam in your eyes. “You know what I meant, Lew...”

Rolling you over, he leaned over you as he pushed a lock of his own unruly hair behind his ear. “I rarely think about the fact you’re younger than me. It doesn’t affect the way in which I love you, half the time I forget that you’re younger than me. I definitely don’t think I’m wiser, that’s for sure. It’s pretty obvious who has all the wisdom between the two of us.”

The night ended with you below him, the sheets rustling, as if all the love he had for you could be encaptured in the way his eyes connected with yours. You had never felt that kind of raw love before, had never felt like everything you had done had led to that exact moment.

Trying to convince yourself that everything happening now was all in your mind was easy. The comments that your friends made, that maybe he didn’t love you anymore; was easy enough to ignore when you considered the fact that he did still reply to your messages, that he still came home every Sunday, that he still sometimes pressed a kiss to your forehead before leaving in the morning.

But then sometimes you let your mind reel, and reel, and reel. Lewis was there, but was he really there?

The conversation almost happened, after Spa. Lewis was exhausted coming into your shared apartment, his bags dropping down at the front door. You were wrapped up in one of his Mercedes sweaters, his racing number engraved on the sleeves; even if he was there physically and not mentally, you had still made him your everything, you had made him your mural, had dedicated the sky to him.

The pictures on the walls still showed a love between the two of you that wasn’t obvious anymore. The picture of you wrapped around him after the end of the 2020 season. The pictures of the both of you cuddled around each other at his family Christmas, the collage of his nephews wrapped in your arms. There were hundreds of photos that showed how life used to be.

Your mind came back to the present when Lewis crossed the path in front of you.

Like always, he went to press a gentle kiss to the crown of your head, the exhaustion prevalent on his face. As he was walking towards his office, you felt the words bubble out of your mouth before you could control them.

“Did you want to watch this with me? I feel like we haven’t really spent much time together lately.”

The words stopped him in his tracks, you could practically see the wheels turning in his head as his body turned in your direction. It felt like his face was mocking you with its fake sympathy as he gently shook his head, his curls moving with the direction.

“I’m just too tired. I have to go watch highlights in my office. Maybe later.”

It was always ‘maybe later’, or ‘maybe tomorrow’, or ‘I’m sorry we can’t celebrate our anniversary this year, I just don’t have time this weekend, maybe next weekend’.

It felt like you were begging him for a spot in his life, like you were an inconvenience that he didn’t want to put the effort into anymore. By now, you weren’t even begging for a line in the story, but a line in the footnotes of his life. A minuscule part, something that he couldn’t even try to give you.

Lewis made it clear he felt bad after he bailed on your anniversary. He spent hundreds of dollars on you, basically begging you for forgiveness and emphasizing things would be different soon, he promised.

He was right, things were different. Not in a good way. Maybe that was the point when things really started going downhill. It was still hard to pinpoint it.

Making yourself scarce when Lewis was home was easy. Your friends were always looking for you to go for lunch, or dinner, or out for drinks. Spending your time at work was always an easy escape, allowing the never-ending flow of work to occupy your thoughts as you went above and beyond.

If Lewis noticed that you were avoiding him, avoiding your home; he didn’t say anything. He never said anything.

Spending the weekends at home was therapeutic, your arms wrapped in another one of Lewis’ oversized sweaters. The smell of his cologne wafting up your noise as you pressed the sleeve to your face, the unshed tears refusing to leave your eyes. You wouldn’t cry, not again.

You knew you would cry, again. You always let the tears fall when you scrolled back up in your conversation with Lewis to when things first started, when he was animated, when he overshared, when he sent you photos of George, of Mick, when he forwarded you along videos of Roscoe when Roscoe was away with him.

Back when your love was celebrated, when it didn’t feel like Lewis was just tolerating it, tolerating you, tolerating your love.

Jealousy reared its ugly head every weekend as well. Whenever you saw an Instagram story, or a twitter post, whenever you saw that Lewis was out with his friends, or his team, or his crew. You knew it wasn’t fair to be jealous, that it wasn’t fair to compare yourself to the people that Lewis spent 5/7 days a week with, that it was hard for him to say ‘no’ to them.

It didn’t change how much it hurt, how much it made your heart ache to know that you truly were something that could be put on the backburner. He was always out building other worlds, but where were you?

Where were you every time he was out with his friends after a race? Where were you every time he was celebrating a win, or celebrating a pole in qualifying? Where were you every time he went live on Instagram?

Where was his love for you when you sat looking at the suitcases in the closet, again?

Gone.

It was time to accept the truth, that his love for you was gone. That he didn’t celebrate his love for you like he once did, that he didn’t celebrate you, like he once did.

He tolerated it, and he tolerated you. Tolerating something and celebrating it were too obviously different things. It had never been more evident.

The bags didn’t stare at you anymore as they laid open on the bedroom floor, your clothes finding themselves folded and inside each of them, your portion of the closet emptying out as the bags grew heavier and heavier. The bags under your eyes growing darker alongside them.

You couldn’t leave without saying anything to him, couldn’t allow him to come home to an empty home. It was obvious he didn’t deserve an explanation, and you didn’t plan on giving him one. But he deserved a goodbye.

It was clear the presence of the suitcases registered in Lewis’ mind the moment his eyes found them as the front door closed. He immediately looked at you, the most emotion you’d seen in months shining in his eyes.

“What’s going on?”

The shake in his hands was visible as he asked the question, his own bags falling gently beside your own as he stared at you.

“I can’t do this anymore. I can’t beg for a place in your life anymore, Lew. I’m sorry.”

The resignation was evident in his eyes, but there was no fight in them as he sat on the couch opposite you. It almost hurt to know that he wasn’t going to argue, wasn’t going to ask you to stay, to not break free and leave the both of you in ruins. It almost hurt, but you knew it would be the case.

“I’m sorry.”

He didn’t try to stop you as you went towards your bags, he didn’t look up from his ink-stained hands as the click of the lock sounded. He didn’t try to say anything more as the suitcases rolled out the door.

You didn’t see the tears gather in his eyes and then fall down his cheeks as the door closed behind you, the longing on his face as he debated with himself internally if he should run after you. Beg you to stay. It was so plain to see now, you were younger, and wiser, and he didn’t deserve you anymore.

Lewis knew the truth. You deserved someone who would celebrate you, celebrate your love. Not someone who could only tolerate it when their own life was falling apart. He didn’t deserve you, not anymore.

i really hope you guys liked this!! im really not too sure if i'll make a part 2, but if there's a lot of demand for one i will. thank you for all the love. also i read this like 4 times so if there's any mistakes im sorry lol

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